#also it would feel more embarrassing to ask my friends to draw them for me like no i can't do that

[ravenwolfie97]

how do i get a cool artist to work with me so they can draw my characters better than i can aaaaaaaaa

[nezuscribe]

you’re glad to have a friend like arranged!gojo, it feels good to have somebody to talk to and listen to. you feel nice being able to laugh with somebody and not apologize for the awful jokes or strange things you say. but sometimes you have to stop yourself from getting attached, reminding yourself that he won’t care for you like that.

and though that’s the farthest from the truth, it’s what you’ve convinced yourself. so when your birthday comes around, you decide to celebrate the way you always have, alone.

he’s your friend, not a husband, so you don’t see any need in dragging him into this ordeal.

you bake a little cake for yourself a couple day in advance, just like you used to at your old home. you stash it away for when night rolls around and it’s just yourself, you can enjoy it the way you have for years.

when you were little you would gawk and stare at the lavish parties your father and his wife threw for your sisters, the balls and the presents growing bigger and bigger the more they grew up. you’d mimic their behaviors on your own, dressing up in the best dress you had (a hand me downs from your older sister that never fit quite right) and pretended you too were surrounded by a room of people as they watched you eat cake.

and sure, when you were younger you’d feel embarrassed eating by yourself surrounded by drawings of people you’d prop up on chairs, but it’s become tradition now (not the drawings, you realize now how depressing that must’ve looked).

so the night of your birthday you take the cake you had hidden in the back of the ice den out, bringing it to the corner of the kitchens where the cooks kept the little table for themselves and began cutting into it, cursing yourself for freezing it too long.

you serve yourself a piece, hunching over your plate as you dug in with your fork, eating in silence.

you write a little note for the cooks to enjoy the rest of it as you place it back in the den once you were done, going back to your room for the night.

the following day when you were walking around the library looking for something new you spot gojo talking to one of his advisors, his eyes focused and his tilted slightly as he gave him all of his attention.

you pause, holding back until you were sure they were done with their conversation to reveal yourself from behind one of the looming bookshelves, watching as the advisor bowed his head to you before he left.

the crease between his eyebrows relaxes, his eyes softening when you waved at him, your smile gleaming.

“i didn’t see you for breakfast,” he tells you as he walks over to where you were standing, pushing some of his hair back as you grin apologetically.

“i slept in,” you admit sheepishly, tired from last night as you play with your fingers, “i also might’ve been a little snippy with alina when she tried to wake me up.”

gojo snorts, absentmindedly pulling some books out and putting them back in as he rests his side on the wall of binded pages.

“baking?” he asks simply, knowing you well enough to know that the only reason you’d miss breakfast would be because you spent the majority of the night in the kitchens.

“how’d you know?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest as he tsks, his fingers picking some stray leaves from your head from earlier when you were walking through the gardens.

“i help whisk the butter and sugar when you don’t feel like it. i don’t know why you keep me out of the kitchens,” he murmurs petulantly and you chuckle a little bit, rolling your eyes at his antics.

“it’s for your own sake,” you tell him, a glimmer in your eyes that he’d chase around the world the see, “and besides, i wasn’t baking. i was enjoying the fruits of my previous labor.”

gojo squints a little bit, confused. usually you eat what you make the night of, sometimes bringing a plate by his room if it’s not too late.

“when else did you bake this week without me?” he asks, trying to mask his hurt with a playful grin, trying to recall the times he heard back from one of his guards that you were down in the kitchens.

“only a few days ago, when i trying to assemble the cake.” you say with a shrug. his mouth opens in shock, a pout on his lips as he averts your gaze.

“you had cake? without me?” he almost whines it out and you shove his boot with the point of your shoe, trying to calm him down.

who would’ve thought the most fearsome warrior of the north, hell, the entire kingdom, would have such a sweet-tooth?

“it was small,” you try to reason, “and you wouldn’t have liked the flavors. it’s a recipe from the west.”

gojo groans, stepping closer to you as he gently flick your nose, watching the way you’d scrunch it up in annoyance.

“but you know i love cake,” he murmurs, “and you said you’d only bake it for birthdays…you lied to me,” his pink lips pull into a pout, one that you want to kiss off his gorgeous face, and control yourself from letting the heat get too much in your cheeks.

“well,” you quirk a brow, “if it helps, it was for a birthday.”

gojo looks up from the ground, brows furrowed once again in confusion.

“mine?” he says a little hopefully, as if it was anywhere near his birthday.

you snort, shaking your head as your finger pokes itself in your chest.

“mine…you idiot,” you mutter under your breath, wondering how somebody how his caliber could be so daft.

but he doesn’t seem to find it funny, in fact, his brows seem to meet in the middle, the pout gone form his lips as he frowns.

“what do you mean yours? your birthday isn’t for…? isn’t it in…?” he tries to think, think back to when your birthday was, only to realize he didn’t know, to realize he’d never asked you about it, always assuming it’d be something told to him.

“it’s nothing big,” you try to say quickly to cover up the awkwardness, “i usually just make myself a cake and get it over with.” you say with a chuckle but he’s not finding anything about this humorous.

great, you think bitterly to yourself, said something else and fucked it up. you wince, wishing you’d just stayed quite.

“your birthday was yesterday?” gojo asks, his voice hushed and heavy. he looks like he cares, he looks sad. you find it unnerving.

“i,” you laugh uncomfortably, fidgeting with your ring as you swallow thickly, “i think so...? i eyeball the day every year.”

truth be told you done really know what day you were born. your father never remembered the exact date seeing how the nature of his relationship with your mother was so secretive, and nobody ever found the true date out. so usually you find a date each year that you think matches with what time season you were born with and go with that.

gojo feels like his heart has slowed, watching the way you shrink into yourself the way he notices you’d i when you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

“eyeball?” he bites out and you wince at his tone, and he wishes he could take it back and start over again without the bite of a general in his words.

“look gojo it’s nothing, really,” you insist, waving him off as you try to escape, shifting around so you were closer to the doorway, “it’s just a day, it’s nothing important,” you tell him reassuringly.

but he doesn’t believe you, running a hand down his face as he pinches at the bridge of your nose.

“why do you write these things off as if they’re not important?” his voice is deep, echoing around the walls of the vast library as your hold your breath, “why don’t you-”

“because it’s not important,” you say again, your voice a little bit harsher, “it’s just a day.”

his eyes drown in blue, dark and wavering like the shoreline.

“then why bake a cake?” he snaps, not in anger but in genuine questioning, and your face falls a little.

maybe because years ago you thought it was something important. maybe because you want that little girl to feel like she matters.

he gapes, knowing he said something wrong, but can’t speak.

“i…” you open your mouth then close it again, looking away from him as you shrug, “i have to go, i - um, shoko asked for me.” you lie lamely, not caring as you bow your head down slightly to him before you briskly leave.

and maybe if you turned back you could see the way his face fell too.

but with all the maybes you’ve told yourself no to, you’ve grown accustomed to the belief that every maybe wouldn’t have a chance of becoming something.

because maybe if you had actually told him the truth when you wanted to a couple days ago, that you’d like to celebrate with him, he wouldn’t shut you down the way you’d imagined he would and maybe he would’ve said yes.

but for now you convince yourself that this man is a friend who pretends like he cares. because never once have you heard of a man caring so deeply for somebody that he’d shed a tear over the fact that you’d celebrate your birthday alone. but then again, you’ve never met a man like gojo before.

[pinecipitation]

Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS

FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…

second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️

word count: around 1.2k

authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔🤞 also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man

CHARLIE: (s1e6)

charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.

The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.

You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.

“Listen… I-“

“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”

The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.

“What?”

“…I said you could lead the way?-“

“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”

You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.

“I trust you?”

What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.

He finally realized he liked you.

But of course, he’d never say that out loud.

What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.

“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.

“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.

Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.

PIM: (s1e4)

pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.

“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”

Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.

You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.

You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.

“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”

You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?

To Pim, it meant everything.

He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.

“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.

Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.

ALAN: (s2e3)

alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.

You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.

It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.

“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.

He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.

[ang3lofdivinity]

❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧❞

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Relationship(s): Yan!Andy (Andrew) Graves x Fem!reader

Format: Headcanons + stories.

Genre: IMPLIED Smut + fluff + some angst(?)

Warnings: Consent mf, intimidation, SA from one of the wardens to the reader, masturbation (reader and Andy), Leyley isn't super overprotective, Reader is very naïve and too kind (they consider all friends), kidnapping, stalking, Andy is kinda turned on by the readers constant praise and nicknames for him, smoking, swearing, smut has been removed because.. the more I realize it I want this account to be decently fluff.

Andy is a very reserved person.

He's an introvert as per what his sister calls him.

And she's right.

He doesn't like being around others, he's pretty logical, he's also very calm.

But, what he doesn't know is how charming he is to others.

Hell, bunches of girls try and get with him, while Leyley obnoxiously tries to get rid of them all.

So, he's never really had a long term relationship with anyone aside his sister.

And over the years, he's managed to craft, a meticulously created one, a façade.

A mask he's worked on for years.

One that he knows will never crack.

But perhaps he got too confident.

Because when you came along, he was restraining himself practically from getting excited after the first time he saw you.

He saw you, being the new kid in class back when he was still in school at a young age before being trapped in that hellscape he called his home.

You were an extrovert it seemed, turning out to be the opposite. But, you still cared a lot about everything and everyone, you introduced yourself sweetly with something along the lines of..

"Good morning, I'm (____) (_____). If you need anything, I'll always be right here."

You were so calm, so pretty.. how could someone be so pretty?

You joined a bunch of after school activities, student council and such.

Although, you seemed a bit worried over something always every time he saw you.

He felt something within his stomach churn whenever he saw you though, not managing to gather enough courage to talk to you.

So, you had to initiate the contact.

You saw him, being all lonely..

That made you feel incredibly horrible, you were in that position yourself once too.

So, you approached him.

And his heart fluttered.

"Good evening.. you're Andrew Graves, right?" You inquired as you sat beside him at his lunch table as your friends immediately started whispering to each other.

"Oh- I- I'm Andrew Graves, yes.." he cringed at his own stuttering, but you didn't seem to mind.

"Why don't you come and sit at my table with my friends?" You invited him with a warm smile.

He felt butterflies in his stomach, a feeling he never had in a while..

"Are- you sure? They won't make fun of me?.." he asked, obviously worried.

"Of course not! If they do, we can have lunch together alone if you want!"

"..alright."

That was the day he became so clingy to you.

Usually, he's very cynical. But, for some reason with you.. he could feel that your actions were very genuine.

And that's what got him attached.

Along with your humor.

"I swear to fucking goddess if Miss Alta keeps telling me to not draw, I will—"

"Good morning, Miss Alta!" You exclaimed happily the moment your communications teacher stepped foot into the room.

He almost wheezed, letting out a giggle at his failed attempt to restrain himself. His expression turned into one filled with guilt and embarrassment, but before Miss Alta or any of the students spoke, you blurted out.

"Ah, Miss Alta, there's something wrong with the air conditioning. It keeps moving a bit and making that scraping noise." You semi-lied as you turned to Andrew and gave a more sincere smile before paying attention once more.

..you would just, lie for him like that..

Your smile could make him go crazy, it couldn't be compared to anything!! The way you cried, your tears streaming down your cheeks as you ran to him when you got hurt on the playground earlier- blue diamonds couldn't even compare to the richness of them, and the way you were very touchy..

You always held onto his hand, holding onto his shirt as you walked behind him anxiously, anytime when you got older and watched any horror movie and clang onto him.

That's when it all went to shit.

You had to leave the state.

THE STATE.

After you had just got settled after the last time where you moved here as a child!

He almost broke down, wanting to pour out all of his feelings as if it would change anything.

But it was official, and Leyley had him all to herself. It was like that for years.

He was all alone.

He felt empty.

He felt empty without you.

Like a part of his soul was torn from him.

And that stuck with him forever.

Some sort of dark, black tar over his heart made it feel disgusting and filthy.

But for the lonely part..

It wasn't like that for long.

When they grew older, he started dating someone after so long.

His (ex) girlfriend, Julia.

But eventually, that all ended when he got put into that quarantined building with Leyley.

She broke it off with him on one of those nights.

He sobbed about it, and Leyley didn't help.

But, that's when he got a strange phone call when Leyley was asleep and he was still up.

He was hesitant, but his gut told him to pick it up.

And that he did.

And that was one of the best decisions of his life.

"..Hello?" He spoke, his voice raspy. He was unsure of what telemarketer would be calling at this hour, and it couldn't possibly be someone he knew.

"Andrew?.. is this really you?!.."

That voice.. that voice instead changed his mind of this being some sort of telemarketer.. how? Because that’s your voice. After so many years, you had called him!

"..(____)?!" He yelped out, almost loud enough to wake LeyLey.

"Oh dear— I'm so glad I can hear your sweet voice again!!" You exclaimed, sounding like you were on the brink of tears.

All of those previous feelings he had for you back when you were still around, they all came back in a flurry, overwhelming him.

"(____), I'm.. how did you get this number?.." he wanted to ask you so much more, but that's all that came out at the moment.

"I heard about the quarantine you got into with your sister.. I'm so sorry. One of the wardens was kind enough to give me your number! I didn't have much time previously due to my work.. but, now I have and I'm so thankful!"

"..Good god it's so nice hearing your voice again, (____)" he mumbled, smiling as tears prickled at his eyes. There were so many words that wanted to spill out of his mouth, but nothing came out due to his own self restraint.

"I'm going to get you out of there! I promise! You and your sister!" You yelped out, happiness laced into your voice. You were zeal about this, you were going to get him and his sister out of here. Or at least try.

"Wait- aren't you worried about the wardens??? They've been keeping us here!" He responded back, biting on his thumb.

"Eh?? Nah! I'm sure! The warden seemed to like me, I'm sure I can persuade him somehow." For some reason, this didn't sit right with him..

"..." He went radio silent, this feeling akin to foreboding surging through him with the sense of anger as well. But, he swallowed down his frustration and took some deep breaths.

"Andy- Andrew?.. you there?" You tried to fix your mistake. You heard his sister call him by that nickname once- so you know it's at least somewhat gotta be sentimental for him.

"..you can call me Andy" he slowly spoke up.

"Are you sure?.."

"I'm.. sure. Call me Andy." It almost sounded like a demand..

"..Alright, Andy."

He doesn't even let his own sister call him that anymore, but he lets you do it with free reign.. strange.

"Now, would you like to talk for a bit?.. or should I get straight to work with the pla-"

"Talk!.. please. I just.. I missed you. I missed listening to your voice, I missed just being with you.." he blurted out, cutting you off. He put a hand over his mouth in response, his eyes wide and filled with shame.

"..."

"..."

"...."

"I'm sorry- that probably sounded weird.." he spoke up after a long moment of silence.

"Nono! Don't apologize, I missed hearing your voice too, hun." You spoke sweetly to him, a smile he couldn't see plastered on your face.

"..Hun?" Saying the word made him feel this warm, bubbling sensation within his chest. It made him want to indulge in it more..

"I'm not gonna use Andy all the time, darling!" You giggled happily, and that just made something within his stomach churn and twist.. something that has been dormant for years finally stir.

It made his knees go weak, his mouth go slightly agape as he failed to make any words come out of his mouth for a while until you spoke.

"..Andy? Honey?"

"Oh- sorry just.. deep in thought.”

"Ah, I get that.. well anyways, what would you like to talk about?"

You two talked until the sun finally rose and you got sleepy.

"Night Andy, Hun!" He could hear you yawn.

"Night, (____).."

He then placed the phone back down, hanging up shortly after you did as he found himself already yearning and missing your voice.

But, he knows.. better.

He just can’t help it though.

..No matter, he’ll hopefully be able to see you soon as you said.

That would be wrong though.

Because guess what? That warden that was so kind to you was only there for your looks. He wanted you to have some.. “personal time” with you if you get my gist.

“No fucking way you creep!!” You yelped out, this man was about twice your age and asking you to have some personal time with you.

“C’mon, sweetheart!.. I promise I’ll make it worth your while” The warden spoke, a sickening smile on his face.

“No means no, pervert!! Now, let me see my friends, let me get them out of here!” The warden groaned at your response.

“Alright, look here sweet-cheeks. You aren’t gonna be able to save your friends and I shouldn’t even be helping you. So, you either let me have you and you can take your friends, or I kill you right here and now” the man gave you an ultimatum, causing your eyes to widen.

“I..” You almost bursted out into tears when the man moved his hands to your shoulders, lowering your shirt.

“Lemme take care of ya.” he hummed, pushing you against the table within the break room, tears pooling down your cheeks.

You then tried focusing on something else, noticing the fact he had a ring of keys on his belt..

The warden had a hand glide up your thigh, massaging the bundle of nerves there. You tensed, straining back any noises that would come out of your mouth.

“No need to hold back, sweetheart..” he pressed himself closer to you, this was your time to strike!

You punched the man in the face, causing him to stumble back. You fixed your clothes, jumping off the table, you stared at the man who was waddling around like an idiot. A huff escaped past your lips as grabbed the nearest blunt object and flung it at the man. It was a simple lamp, but it hit him real good in the head. Honestly, you felt powerful in that moment, finding the courage to continuously punching the man, letting out every last string of anger that you felt. It was basically free therapy! And, when you were done, he was no longer moving. You grabbed the keys before you marched off, now off to find Andy and his sister, Ashley!

It took you a bit, but after knocking on a few doors, you heard nothing but some shuffling.

“Andy!! Its me! (____)!!” You yelped out, taking out the ring of keys as you fumbled with them in your hands.

“..(____)!? You actually came!?!” He spoke up after hearing your voice, immediately rushed over to the door as he heard you unlock it, opening it for you, taking you by surprise.

“Of course, hun! I never break a promise.” You spoke more dulcetly, a smile upon your face as you looked up at him.

He’s.. grown taller than you.

He spent no time dawdling as he hugged you, pressing you close to him as he twirled you around.

“I’m proud of you for waiting this long. So proud.” You praised, causing Andrew to become flustered as he desperately tried hiding it.

You paused for a moment before you started giggling a bit.

“What.. whats so funny??” He asked

“Nothing. Just reminiscing of the old times.”

“..you’re talking like a grandma.”

You bursted out laughing, patting his back.

“Oh— really now? ‘Just be a good boy and be quiet!’ Is that better??” You were giggling, since you knew your words made any sense for some Grandma to say, but he wasn’t taking this as a joke. The way you called him a good boy..

It.. turned something on for him, craving for more practically.

“Okay I think thats enough mushy reunion stuff, mm?” You smiled sweetly at the boy as he pulled away from the hug, his face still slightly flushed.

“Yeah..” he internally cursed himself for almost stuttering.

“Where’s Ashley?..” you quietly asked.

From that moment, everything happened like some sort of descending spiral of madness. The thing with the demon and Ashley… killing the second warden, all of that fancy stuff. (being horribly mortified in the end.)

You had the both of them stay in the motel for a while until you could bring them into your home as you got them necessities; paying for them to continue staying, getting them new clothes, food, entertainment and others (not even knowing about their little hobby together.)

You’d visit once a week, much to Andrews begging for you to come more often, constant thanks as well from him.

“..I don’t think we can repay you ever for this.”

You always said it was fine, and his sister did too. She seemed more laid backed about the entire situation.

And, when you rushed in the middle of the night to their motel in your car to tell them the news that you finished up your work for their rooms and such, only throwing on a long overcoat, keeping on your nightclothes and throwing one some slippers.

..but they weren’t in there.

“PSSSTTT” the sound almost made you scream, but you turned to the cause of the noise.

“Ashley!” You smiled, not speaking above a whisper.

“Get over here!!!” You immediately rushed over to her without another question, taking her into an embrace.

“Woah- calm down, goody-two-shoes!” She grumbled, trying to get you to let go or at least loosen your arms that were tightly wrapped around her.

“You and Andrew can finally come over!!” You practically cried out, a bright smile on your face.

“..Where is Andrew..?” You questioned after surveying around, letting go of the embrace you tightly held Ashley in.

“Went to go and check on something.. don’t worry about it.”

“..Alright. I’ll wait here if you don’t mind.” You quietly spoke, standing beside Ashley as your hand subconsciously grabbed hers, intertwining them.

And Ashley didn’t say anything about it. Just to see how her brother would react, of course.

That didn’t go well, let me tell you.

He came back, noticing you, he was so excited like a puppy seeing their owner once more, but noticing that you were holding Ashleys hand..

..For some reason it made him pissed off.

“..(____), why don’t you hold my hand instead?”

You were already starting in his direction to tackle him into a hug, but Ashley pulled you back.

“Nah.. I think she’ll stay right here, holding my hand.”

“Ashley.”

“Yes, dear Andyyyy?”

“Let her go. Right now.”

“Mm, nah.” She chuckled seeing him get so riled up.

He flat up walked on over to you two, grabbed you by the waist, swiftly pulling you away from Ashley.

“Oh you jackass!!!”

But he didn’t care.

And then, you all heard another car..

Thats when everything else unfolded.

They killed that man..

And you witnessed it.

Then again though, he was a murderer as well..

..but why??

You were shaking like a leaf, catching Andy’s attention.

“Shh shh.. its okay. Theres no need to cry or worry, alright? It was in self-defense. I promise this won’t happen again.” He consoled you, hugging you closely as you nodded.

Ashley looked baffled though, one of her eyes slightly twitching.

..guess they’ll just have to not kill in front of you from now on.

Well, moving on from this..

You had made some fake ID’s for them (made by another friend of yours, of course) along with some birth certificates, you just wanted to help them get on their feet again.

That would.. slightly backfire.

No matter what, he became so obsessed with you, he started stalking you, watching you do anything around the house. When you’d turn to see if anyone was watching, no-one was there..

You brushed it off multiple times, but even when you were in the shower, or changing, you felt the same feeling. It was all.. unnerving. You hated it. You wanted it to stop.

But, it continued and continued, and it got to the point where you started asking Andrew if you could sleep with him for the night, to which he immediately accepted; surprising you.

You got into his bed, him pulling the covers over you despite the fact you already had a blanket with you.. but that was fine. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your lower back, pressing you closer to him.

And strangely, it seemed like all of the eyes that were previously watching you were gone. You could finally drift off to sleep, where Ashley would make fun of you both each time, but stopped suddenly after a bit..

But you shrugged it off as she was just bored of the joke now that you have cuddled with Andrew so many times now just for you to feel safer within your own home!

Little did you know that the person you were cuddling with was the one watching you all along..

His fingers threaded through your hair, humming ever so softly. He kissed the crown of your head, your forehead, your cheeks, and then eventually, your lips. You tasted sweet to him, sweet like nothing he’d ever tasted before in contrast to his usual taste of mint and cigarettes within his mouth.

He wanted more of it..

He then continued kissing your lips, now making out with your unconscious body, taking breaks in between to undress you from your nightclothes, underwear, and so forth.

In your sleep, you felt something.. swishing within your mouth. It was warm, tasting everything within your mouth almost, like it was trying to claim it!

You slowly awoke very sadly since you couldn’t get your beauty rest, trying to find the cause, just to see it was Andy. The person you were so close with. You instinctively pushed him away, or tried.

As much as you wanted to- you couldn’t hurt him. What would be everything you went for then? What would Ashley do?? You’d have to live with the guilt of possibly hurting one of your friends.

..is he even your friend anymore?

He took notice of that, opening his eyes instantaneously as he felt your touch. He pulled away for a moment, examining your expression.

The room was silent, the atmosphere was palpable as he turned to an emotionless face. He moved you closer to him.

“Andy!?” You yelped out as your body became tense.

“..Shit— shit, no, fuck, i’m so sorry. This is wrong-“ Andrew pushed himself away, getting up and threading his hands through his hair. His eyes were wide as he realized what he’d done.

“..Andrew, why??..”

“I’m sorry- that was disgusting- I’m sorry!..”

Your facial expression was bewildered, but you eventually just frowned and grabbed his arm (which was shaking.)

“Andrew, you should’ve asked me first so I could’ve consented. Especially if you have some sort of som—“

“Wait!.. how are you so calm?!” You really aren’t.

“..I’m not. But I would’ve just want some more information- some sort of talk about this entire situation before we could do anything.” Caressing his hand, you smiled softly, and he simply just stared at you for at least 5 seconds straight.

Consent talk?

Consent talk!!

He gave a long ass apology for his actions, immediately about to just get up and leave.

But you stopped him to talk further talked about the situation. You talked about what you really wanted.

And if you both were ready.

Even though all of this didn’t happen throughout one entire night, you planned everything out. What you two were going to do.

If you wanted a relationship.

Or just a situationship.

You both decided to test the waters first before deciding that.

You need to get out. Leave.

What are you doing?

Please, go.

He’ll kill you too.

You couldn’t fall asleep after everything that happened, so he ran a bath for you and him, washing you both.

After that though, he dressed you in some more comfortable clothes for the afternoon it seemed despite being early morning now.

He had you sit in his lap, smoking (trying to get you to smoke as well), tending to your wounds.

And that’s when Ashley came to you both later within the morning, groaning.

“Why was there so much noise in the night?.. could barely sleep..”

Safe to say, you gave a.. believable excuse

Wow- theres a lot here! But, I hope you all enjoyed!!

[perfectlyoongi]

FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... you had to write a poem for a class and, when your creativity betrayed you, you decided to ask your boyfriend for help.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... yoongi x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... childhood friends & lovers (established relationship), fluff, just the complicity between u and yoongi. ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 2k. ㅤ⚘.fandom ... ik as much abt writing poetry as ik abt quantum physics so u get no poem shoo shoo !! ps. dont mind the cringe :3 hope u enjoy ♡

“Come on, Yoonie!” you let out a small laugh when Yoongi grimaced as he shook his arm out of your hands. “Help me.”

“So annoying,” Yoongi prolonged the last word in a dramatic cry that made you laugh one last time. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You quickly sat down on the black sofa in Yoongi's studio, on your lap a small notebook eager to be filled, in your hand a pencil half corroded by your thoughts. Yoongi sat next to you, in his hand a bottle of partially drunk water, in his eyes a sparkle that only appeared when he was with you.

“What do you need to do?”

“The professor asked for a poem and we had to draw the theme out of a hat.”

“And you got…”

“Love.”

Your response was accompanied by a frown on your part.

Since you remembered that you were submerged in a vast ocean of verses and stanzas, all the themes that could exist building little huts in your heart, creating fragments in your soul that would be forever united by your love for writing. And you wanted to know more about this art. You wanted to be able to create like so many others before you. You wanted to give your creativity a purpose and, with Yoongi's encouragement, you joined creative writing classes at your university.

But, as with everything, the dream became more fantastic than reality.

It was part of the challenge and it made you excited, more eager to create. But it was also tiring, spending days and nights pondering words and themes that could very well carry with them empty meanings and silent beauties. You wrote in constant fear of not being interpreted, of not being worthy of interpretation, of creating something too vague to have any value.

Everything was challenging for you, all the poems you had written to date being the result of too many thoughts and too little passion. So, when you got a theme as common and used as love, you only saw a solution to truly create a piece of art – after all, love only existed for you with Yoongi by your side.

“I kinda feel offended by your reaction,” Yoongi forced a frown and you smiled.

“Don’t start, please,” you opened the notebook and took a deep breath. “How am I supposed to start?”

“You can start by…” Yoongi was thoughtful for a moment, involuntarily playing with the bottle in his hands. “Trying to describe what love is to you?”

Your silence was capable of speaking louder than any words you could have said – and that only made Yoongi let out a small laugh.

Adjusting himself on the couch to get closer to you, Yoongi looked at you curiously. You had a serene expression, but your eyes showed that all the threads inside you were trying to interconnect to form a simple description. Leaning his arm against the back of the sofa and holding his head, Yoongi looked at you amused.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked cordially, a smile lacing his words, his voice gently echoing through the studio.

“You know I’m terrible with feelings.”

“I’m no better.”

“But you write songs.”

“Because you inspire me!”

You already knew that. Yoongi had already told you countless times that great inspiration for his songs came from you, from the feeling he had for you; but that didn't stop you from reacting, completely embarrassed by your boyfriend's confession.

“Then give me tips!”

“I don't know!” Yoongi opened his arms in a dramatic way, fanning them to emphasize his speech. “I just feel it and the words come and the song gets written.”

You snorted to hide a smile and calmed down again, your back leaning against the sofa, your eyes jumping from the pencil to the blank page.

“And what do you feel?”

Your question hung in the air for a brief moment as Yoongi contemplated your words.

In Yoongi's mind, dozens of words began to appear quickly, constantly running over each other, wanting to be the first to be pronounced. In Yoongi's heart, dozens of emotions began to gently blossom, taking root in Yoongi, assuring his feelings for you.

The pause wasn't long, but for you it was an eternity.

The eagerness for an answer made your heart race. You were looking forward to Yoongi's words, not only to inspire you for your poem, but also to hear once again what you meant to him – it was always good to be reassured.

“At this moment…”

Yoongi's voice was hoarse, deep, gently sung by his delicate lips. The words were steeped in care and serenity. You could feel Yoongi's thoughts in his pronunciation, the way he was precisely selecting each word he spoke bringing a smile to your face.

“At this moment, I feel like a kid again.”

“A kid?” you gently tilted your head – of all the strings of words Yoongi could have said, that wasn't one that had crossed your mind.

“Yes,” Yoongi let out a laugh, nostalgia clinging to every syllable, memories of easier times clouding his studio. “Doesn’t this situation remind you of anything?”

Yoongi continued to look at you in love – there was no other word to describe it. The sparkle in Yoongi's eyes was completed by the genuine smile that slightly curved his sweet lips. Yoongi's words were filled with a gentleness that only existed when he spoke to you, about you.

You pondered Yoongi's words. Your boyfriend's voice echoed in your mind with some care, stretching out the syllables, trying to search your memories for the words you should say. And then you remembered.

“The first grade!”

You spoke happily, memories of your childhood painting nostalgic pictures in your head, vibrant colors of happy moments radiating warmth to your heart.

“The first grade,” Yoongi repeated between small laughs as he adjusted himself on the couch. “We spent our afternoons trying to learn math together.”

“And we were never successful.”

Your laughter settled into two broad, longing, passionate smiles.

“I never told you this…” Yoongi was the first to break the silence that rested in the studio, going back to shuffle on the sofa, playing with the bottle a little more. “But, I think I started to like you at that time.”

Your eyes opened in awe, your boyfriend's confession bringing a little warmth to your heart.

“Come on, Yoonie. We were kids. It’s impossible to like someone that way.”

Accompanied by laughter, your words shaped the atmosphere of the studio into a place of comfort, of safety, of confession.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi placed one of his hands on your leg, stroking it gently. “Already at that age I knew that I wanted to stay with you for the rest of my life.”

Like a dove's feather hovering gently on a hot summer day, Yoongi's confession remained in his study as it got to know every nook and cranny, spreading its warmth across the room and nuzzling your heart.

Stay with you for the rest of his life.

In a way, those words danced in your mind, a complex waltz of possible futures moving through the halls of memories. In a way, those words gave you a shy smile, a gentle curve of embarrassment beautifying your face. In a way, those words settled in your heart, a homely comfort soothing your soul.

For the rest of his life.

“And how did you know?”

Your tone of voice was provocative, causing Yoongi to smile smugly.

“Because it was when I was with you that I could see the world in colors.” Yoongi let the bottle fall into his lap, one of his hands shyly searching for yours. “I believe that my life only began the day I met you. I woke up every day looking forward to go to school just to see you. And it was when we started dating that I started thinking about a future for me, for us.”

There was a passionate smile on your lips, a shiny curve that infected Yoongi and encouraged him to gently caress the soft skin of your hand.

“What was love like as a kid?”

“Weird,” a wistful laugh left Yoongi’s lips, his eyes locked on a long-lived past. “I just thought about annoying you just to have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Is that why you always stole my pencils?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders with a false air of innocence and you laughed. “But when our friendship started to become more natural, I only thought about you. How it was only with you that I could be myself. How it was only with you that I could really have fun. How you were the only one who gave me a purpose to wake up every day.”

“Do you have any songs about me that you haven’t shown me yet?”

Yoongi laughed, a strong, pink tone taking over his cheeks as he let go of your hand and returned to holding the bottle.

“Let's take it easy. We were talking about your poem.”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you smiled and gently pinched his stomach. “Tell me your secrets!”

Your boyfriend sighed as he let a smile be etched on his face. “I have two. One of them I wrote when I was at school.”

He got up carefully, walking to his desk and picking up a black notebook that was already quite corroded by time: the pages were damaged by humidity and water, the cover was a little torn and folded – that notebook seemed to have been loved.

“I carry this notebook everywhere,” Yoongi sat down next to you again and placed the notebook on his lap, encouraging you to come closer to him. “It’s where I have my first thoughts and songs as a dreamer. Among them the first song I wrote.”

“Rest of my life”, you read Yoongi’s handwriting like an incantation, your lips pronouncing each syllable with the flavor of importance and passion seasoning the title of that song. “Why didn’t you ever show me?”

“I was ashamed. It’s not my best work, y’know?”

“But you still keep it.”

“Because it is my most genuine and heartfelt song.”

Yoongi looked at you and you returned the look. In the shine of your boyfriend's eyes you saw your future together, a home and a family, an eternity of passion and complicity; in the curve of your boyfriend's lips you saw your shared past, infinite stories and memories, an extensive melancholy of a passionate history.

Before you kissed Yoongi, you smiled.

Your lips touched lightly for just a moment but it was enough to send warm waves through your body. It was incredible that after so many years of friendship and dating, Yoongi still had that pleasurable effect on you.

“Can I read it?”

“No,” Yoongi laughed again and closed the notebook.

“Come on! Please, Yoonie.”

Yoongi looked at you thoughtfully, seeing in your pleading eyes and your innocent smile the whole reason for that song. “It was because of you that I started dreaming of a future.”

Somehow, you noticed in Yoongi's shy and reserved tone that those words weren't random, that behind each letter and timbre there was a memory dear to him, a memory of something that was reserved forever in his heart.

“The seeds you planted bloom in my heart. Gardens of tulip petals adorn my desire for a future. I always daydream immersed in swan lakes about a tomorrow with you. I only ask that you stay with me for the rest of my life.”

Even before Yoongi finished his quote, you kissed him again, passion and magic joining your lips in a new promise of love.

“You’re right,” you placed your forehead against Yoongi’s and let out a small laugh. “It’s not your best work.”

“I’m gonna hit you.”

Between laughs, Yoongi kissed you again, pulling away quickly when the memory of the reason for your visit appeared in his mind.

“We’ve already talked about me, let’s go back to the poem.”

“I think I understand what I have to do,” your pencil twirled in your hand as words began to unite a web of thoughts inside your heart. “I just have to remember all the ways you love me and make me feel loved.”

Yoongi kissed your forehead before leaving you immersed in feelings and phrases, a little encouragement from Yoongi before he returned to his work.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

Home (is wherever I’m with you) -fic

Link to Art (chosen by Perz), (credits go to @buffkagome (anby ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚) on Twitter!): Sethos/Scaramouche

Summary (by Perz): Just them being lovey dovey, ticklish boyfriends :)

Perz: Another submission by @vaporized-dimsum! This time a fic! I want to express my gratitude and deep thanks to her for this gift and allowing me to post it here for all of you to enjoy! Couldn’t stop kicking and crying at how cute this was, so aah!

Word Count: 2609

Also on AO3!

—

The Temple of Silence, as one might expect, is a quiet place. Wanderer is quick to grow fond of it compared to the racket of The Akademiya. And of course, seeing Sethos in his home and amongst his friends and family was a pleasant sight too. Not that he would ever tell him that though.

The elders adored him and were always fussing over whether he was eating enough, and the kids never seemed to leave him alone. Since Wanderer was to remain in Sethos’ presence for the duration of his stay, that meant he was fussed over and never left alone either. It was… nice.

Playing with children was like a muscle he hadn’t stretched in a long time. Still, even after centuries it felt as though it was second nature.

Sethos’ heart swelled watching Wanderer interact with the little ones. Letting them play with his hat (no, he wasn’t jealous at all), bringing him things to levitate with his Anemo Vision, chasing him as he hovered away at a slow pace. The cherry on top was the sweet sweet smile on Wanderer’s face that he managed to hide pretty well until the very end. Sethos likened it to catching a shooting star for witnessing it himself.

“What’s that look for?” He muttered when the elders called the children to them.

Ah. He’d been caught staring again. Sethos chuckled. “You’re good with kids. It’s real cute.”

“Hmph. They’re simple creatures, easily entertained. It’s not difficult to manage them.”

Sethos opened his mouth to quip but a little one had called his name. He turned and got down on one knee as they approached him. Wanderer let himself stare now that his back was turned. The intricately styled braids in his curly hair. The gold accessories and freckles. Down past his broad shoulders to his spine where his clothes parted into a tasty back wind—

Oh?

Sethos patted the child on their head as he graciously accepted the golden Sumeru roses they had gifted him. One for him, and one for their guest. He was pretty sure this little one had developed quite a puppy crush on Wanderer too. Sethos grinned watching them go. He totally knew that feeling.

“Wow, Hat Guy. You’re popular wherever you g- IIEHEHE—!”

The squeal bounced off the four walls and left a deathly silence in its wake. Both green and indigo eyes were wide with surprise, but Wanderer’s were quick to narrow deviously.

“What was that all about?” He asked with the innocence of a kitten despite his curled fingers.

Sethos cleared his throat and stood up clumsily, “A-Ah, well one of the little ones entrusted me with gifting this to you. Pretty, isn’t it?”

He shows Wanderer the gold rose and to his relief, it actually does distract him. Temporarily anyway. Enough that Sethos, against his better judgement, comes closer to tuck it behind his ear.

“It looks good on you with your dark hair.”

Wanderer feels his face grow warm, “If you say so.”

Like magnets, they draw closer to each other until their lips nearly brush.

“Was that you I heard laughing, Sethos?” Said one of the adults in passing.

The two of them broke away swiftly, cheeks burning. “U-Uh, yeah! Just me!”

The woman in the doorway chuckled, “It’s been awhile, hearing you get all giggly like that. Your grandfather loved to tickle you and cuddle you when you were small. It was so cute!”

“Really?” Wanderer echoed.

Oh no.

“Tell me more. Sounds pretty interesting.”

Sethos waved his hands wildly, “H-Haha! Okay well that’s nice! You can go now, Aunty!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop embarrassing our great and glorious leader.” She bowed to them and as she walked away, she looked over her shoulder, “And to our kind guest, do be gentle with him. He really never outgrew how ticklish he is.”

Sethos gawked at the absolute betrayal by one of his own people. Desert aunties didn’t mess around. Sure she probably changed his diapers and bathed him but—

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on it with Wanderer’s eyes pinned to him. “Never outgrew it, huh?”

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Can’t we talk about something else? Or… finish what we started?”

Wanderer’s hands instinctively tug his shirt to pull Sethos closer for the kiss he didn’t get but he stops him halfway, “Not here. We can go to my room.”

“How scandalous.”

“Well if you don’t want me to kiss you, you’re welcome to not come with me.”

Wanderer rolls his eyes and follows after him. The living quarters are like a labyrinth of hallways but Sethos navigates them with no troubles. His room is full of leathery books, a few TCG decks, colorful handmade quilts, and a blooming mini succulent garden- courtesy of his friends, no doubt. It’s a bit messy, but full of life and an irresistible coziness. Wanderer feels right at home here despite this being his first time stepping foot in it.

Sethos now tugs on his wrists and sits him on his bed before diving in to kiss him silly. Wanderer can’t get a word out about how desperate and hot and bothered he’s acting but he doesn’t mind one bit. Being caged between his arms and eaten alive has never felt so wonderful.

Wanderer laces their bodies as close together as possible, and eventually, his fingers trail down his back to that sweet patch of exposed skin and—

Sethos all but squeals in his mouth. When he breaks away with wide crescent eyes, there’s a thin string of spit connecting them.

“Oh, I’m gonna devour you.” Wanderer growls playfully, licking his lips.

He doesn’t know how but Sethos quickly finds himself hoisted onto the bed and pinned under him. He hardly gets any protest in before that awful fluttery sensation runs all over his exposed lower back. And with Wanderer seated on his legs, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon no matter how badly it tickles.

And it’s bad.

“GYAHAAHAHAH- wait- wait! Not there! Not- baahahahah!”

He muffles his laughter in his pillows and blankets. Wanderer doesn’t know if he likes that or loves it. Sethos flails his limbs uselessly when he switches from fluttering to pinching and spreading the skin along the knobs of his spine. And when he scoots down to press into what’s practically his tail bone— that gets him howling.

“AHCK- oh SHIHIHIIHIHHIT! Hat- Hat GAHAHAAHAHAAHUY! I can’t!”

“Can’t what?”

“CAHAHAHAHAAHN’T TAHAHAKE IHIHIT! PLEHEHEEHHEHEASE, IT’S BAHAHAD!! IT’S SO BAAHAD!!!”

“Is it?”

“YEHEHEHES!”

“That’s a shame. I quite like this spot. You’ll just have to deal with it, little bee.”

“Nohohoho! Ihit’s really —KYAA!! WHAT IS THAHAAHAHAHAT?!”

“A dusk bird feather that I found in this book.”

“Jeheherk! I was using thahat as a bookm- MM! Mhmhmhmhm, stohohohop ihihihit! Lehemme tahahahalk! Honeehehey!!”

The soft plume licked and curled against his back, and his giggling was sickeningly sweet when it came to feathery tickles… Wanderer scoffed, “I’m barely even touching you.”

“Bahahaharely touchihihing is still touchihing!”

“Hah. That aunty of yours was right. What would your followers think if they heard their dignified leader giggling his pretty little head off, hmm?”

Sethos whined as he pressed his face further into his pillow and hugged it tightly, shaking his head in protest. The curves of his ears were burning up.

“No point in hiding it, little bee. I’m about to make you buzz nice and loud.”

He’d hardly processed what Wanderer said, let alone how it made him feel. Actually, that happened a lot faster. Because suddenly, his fingers were scribbling viciously into his armpits and Sethos screeched.

“NAHAAHAHAHAHAHHA! OH, MERCY!! HONEY!!! MERCEEHEEHEEY!!!!”

“I’m afraid I’m not much of a merciful guy.”

“ARCHOHONS! PLEHEHEASE!! I’LL BEG- IHI’LL BEHEHEG!!!”

“Oh? I do like the sound of that. Go on then. Beg me.”

He thrashed from side to side, pinning his arms down and trapping Wanderer’s hands in that tortuous spot. No matter where he went, the sensation followed. Unbearable and so so good, although he was pretty sure whatever words he did manage to get out weren’t in any intelligible language.

For all his bucking and twisting though, Wanderer decided to sit up just enough so Sethos flopped bonelessly onto his back before he locked him in place beneath him once more. He squeaked in protest as Wanderer stole the breath right out of his lungs. His tongue against his, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip, he felt like he truly was being devoured.

And he never wanted it to stop.

If he wasn’t human, would he be able to kiss Wanderer forever too? Without needing to breathe?

Sethos weakly clutched Wanderer’s wrists as his hands cupped his face, pulling with no strength whatsoever, “Hah- Hon’- please… air. Ngh— air. Can’t bre…hah…”

Wanderer pulled away and was convinced he could get off on just the sight of him. The dizzied and delirious look on his face. Warm brown skin and teary green eyes glittering like emeralds. That stupid stupid smile, shiny and red with spit and bites. His chest heaving.

What a sight to behold.

Sethos hiccuped, “Now w-who’s the one sta-aring?”

Wanderer caressed his face gently, thumbing over his cheekbone and puffy bottom lip until Sethos swiped his tongue against his skin playfully. Then hiccuped again. Cheeky brat.

“Looks like you’ve still got some fight in you.”

Even the buzz of his words against his lips tickles. Sethos licks the seam of Wanderer’s mouth, hiccups, and grins.

“I could do this all day, honey.”

“Figured you’d say that. Now let’s do something about those hiccups.”

Wanderer’s hands slide down his face and along the rise and fall of his chest. The hills and valleys of each rib under his coasting thumbs makes Sethos chortle desperately. And when Wanderer presses into the dimples of his hips, he all but melts.

“You like this spot, little bee?” Wanderer asks playfully with his spidery scribbly touch.

“Noho-HIC —I lohove ihih—HIC- it!”

Oh it’s awful. Sethos’ hips jitter and jump the more his hands draw inward towards his crotch. There’s a pulse point on an artery there. Humans, Wanderer knew, were chock full of weak spots.

And Sethos is endearingly human.

“Aww, thahahanks, honey. Tha—HIC—t’s real sweeheet.”

Wanderer blinked, he must’ve said that last part out loud. He stills his fingers and finally lets Sethos catch his breath.

Soon enough, Sethos crawls into his lap and plops his head on his thighs like a spoiled kitty cat. He sighs so contently, like Wanderer was the comfiest spot in the whole wide world. He nearly purrs when Wanderer runs his fingers through his hair.

“Mmm… that feels so good. Keep going please.”

“Pfft. This is how you treat your guests? Shouldn’t you be spoiling me?”

“Was obliterating me not enough? You’re the spoiled one.”

Wanderer rolls his eyes, continuing to massage his scalp and caress his face. He scoots back so they’re both more comfortable and now also blanketed. The boy in his lap might as well be a sentient pile of slime condensate.

“Honey’s skin’s so smooth…” Sethos coos, “And cool to the touch, too.”

He nuzzles Wanderer’s inner thigh with his cheek before humming a pleased sigh. In an instant, the sensation makes Wanderer clip his face between his legs, making them both yelp.

“I was so comfy…” He whines, “What’s wrong?”

Before Wanderer can even answer, to his dismay, Sethos puts the pieces together all too quickly. “Wait a minute-“

“No.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not.”

He’d responded too quickly both times, telling Sethos everything he already knew.

“You are, aren’t you! You lied! I knew you were lying!!”

Wanderer backs away to the foot end of the bed but it doesn’t put much distance between them before Sethos squishes him beneath his torso. Those green eyes are sparkling with a newfound discovery and revitalized mischief.

“You lied.” He states confidently.

“Like I’ve never done that before.” Mutters Wanderer, “Get. Off. Don’t you DAHARE—“

The weight he put in his elbows topples Wanderer the moment Sethos’ hands slide under his shorts and squeeze. The tingling ripples out from his thighs like his laughter in the room.

“FUHUCK! Sehethos!! Get ohoff! No- HYAH!”

He bonks his head against the footboard and then Sethos’ head too when he wedges his way into the crook of his neck. So close to the Electro mitsudono on his nape. The raspberry Sethos planted sparked his nerves into haywire.

“You keep your secrets close to your chest, huh?” Sethos grins. “Lucky for you, I’m great at keeping secrets!”

“Pihihiss ohohoff! Get your lips ohoff of mehehehe!!”

One raspberry twines into another all along his neck. And as it turns out, that weak spot on Sethos’ hips is just another thing they both share, his fingers climbing higher and higher into his shorts to scribble at it.

“Who’s got the most kittenish little meow meow laugh? Honey does! Honey does!” Sings Sethos, blowing gentle puffs against Wanderer’s ears.

“Shuhut uhup! Stuhupid little BEEHEEHEE!! NAHAAHAHAHAHA!”

“Huh, never realized your shorts have cutouts here.”

His hands felt so nice gripping his little waist, and yet all Wanderer could do was throw his head back laughing helplessly, “SETHOS! Dohohon’t! STOHOHOP IHIHIHIT!!”

“Don’t stop it? You know I’d never deny my honey anything.”

In addition to the warm glow of his cheeks, Sethos noticed certain patterns on Wanderer’s skin began to glow as well. Up his arms and legs, converging at his chest and even twining around his neck too.

“So pretty…!” He murmured enchantedly.

His fingertip traces along the patterns of light on his skin, following them everywhere they led. They seem to shine even brighter as he did so. And Wanderer’s giggles so adorably, Sethos almost stops.

Almost.

“Cuhuhut it ohout! Whehere do youhu thihink youhu’re touchihing?”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter!” Cooed Sethos, “Do you light up when you’re feeling something intensely?”

“Ihintehense annohoyahahance, maybeheehee!”

“Aww but you seem like you really love being touched like this. You get all giggly and kittenish.”

If Sethos didn’t know any better, he might’ve briefly thought Wanderer was glowing pink. It seemed that this was Wanderer’s fear because he was quick to wriggle just enough out of Sethos’ arms to flop onto his stomach. In his worming away though, Sethos spotted the source of all his enchantment. The mitsudono on his nape.

“Ohh, is this where all the light comes and goes from?” Ponders Sethos, “Can I touch you here?”

“Haven’t you touched me enough?” Wanderer grumbles.

He spots Sethos move his hands away from him and even begin to give him some space. So his shit eating grin makes him want to forcibly remove Sethos from his own bed when Wanderer drags his hand back to his shoulder.

His hair covers some of the mitsudono, and Wanderer shivers when Sethos gently brushes it to the side. He’d always been aware of how the mark branded him. Sometimes it even felt like hot iron pressing into his skin. So when Sethos gently pecks it, Wanderer can’t help but jolt.

“Did that hurt?” Asks Sethos worriedly.

Wanderer buries his head in Sethos’ blankets. The scent of him nearly drowns out his boyfriend’s voice. He shakes his head.

“No, it didn’t. It… felt nice.”

Sethos sighed with relief, “Oh good. I’m glad. In that case…”

Wanderer’s shoulders jump as Sethos spoons him and smushes his lips against his nape. “Mwah mwah mwah!”

He clearly has no intentions of letting him go with how tangled together their limbs are. “Quihihit it!” Wanderer scoffs, “Araharen’t youhu tired of thihis yet?”

Sethos hums happily against his skin, “Of you? Never.”

[mrsharrington83]

Idiots in Love

REQUESTED – My asks are open if you have a request ^_^

Summary; (For the sake of this fic, Steve and Nancy never happened) Steve and reader being dumb and having moments of being iconic together. Since everyone knows that Steve isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, maybe he just needs another person to be as dumb as him or maybe he just needs someone else to match him mentally.

Words; 3.4k

warnings; swearing, usual stranger things, things, slight mention of drug use, blood and injury. not proof read.

A/N; thank you for all the requests! I apologise for taking so long getting through them all. i cant write a 0.5k-1.0k fic for the life of me at the minute! Its 2am for me now, but i really wanted to get this out!

Dustin said Steve was an idiot because he had too much hair on top of his head which left too much room for air. For you, Dustin said it was because you’d been around Steve for far too long.

Hawkins, Indiana, 1983.

School was a bore, you tried your hardest and whilst you did ace some classes, you also completely failed in others. Picking up extra tuition and getting help from anyone who would give it to you was a struggle. You didn’t like asking for help, it made you feel dumb, but more than that, it made you feel useless. Why did you struggle so much in certain classes and not in others?

You honestly thought it was from a fall you had as a child when you were learning how to ride a bike. Your father had stupidly taken off your stabiliser wheels and let you go on the hill of your childhood garden, right into a tree. Whilst you were fine overall, you did end up with a nasty bump on your head.

Not only were you not that smart academically, but you were also very accident-prone, which is how you met Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. You weren’t the most popular person in school, you had a small group of friends and that was enough for you. You didn’t want to be known by everyone. As you walked down the busy hall to your locker, hardly taking in your surroundings and paying attention, you slammed into someone’s back. Your extra tuition books and folders fell to the floor,

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The person you slammed into turned around, Steve Harrington, one of the most popular, sought for guys in school looking down at you, “I- I” you stuttered and he smiled, placing his sunglasses on the top of his head, he always found your first meeting adorable, it was something the party had heard several times and not got bored of hearing it. The nervousness in your eyes, the way you pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. The way you bent down to get your books, just as he was doing the same. Your heads collided and bounced off each other, his glasses joining your books on the floor, thankfully not broken,

“Shit! Sorry!” It was Steve’s turn to apologise as he slipped his discarded glasses into his pocket and pulled all of your books and folders into his arms, standing quickly so as not to embarrass himself further, “are you okay?” you just laughed and nodded, taking the books from his arms as you thanked him. That was the start of yours twos budding romance.

Hawkins, Indiana, October, 1984

It was a constant source of amusement for the party, they couldn’t believe some of the stuff you and Steve came out with half the time and how you were both so in sync,

***

“Maybe if we set this on fire,” Mike stated as he looked toward all the drawings on the floor,

“Oh, yeah. That’s a no.” Steve bites back, shaking his head, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder as he leaned on one foot, hand on his hip,

“A double no at that,” you called back to scrambling kids who were already gathering supplies and pointing at drawings on the floor,

“The mind flayer would call away his army,”

“They’d all come to stop us,”

“We circle back to the exit,”

“Guys.” Steve interrupted the party as they carried on talking between themselves, rushing around, completely ignoring the two older people in the house,

“By the time they realise we’re gone-“

“El would be at the gate,”

“HEY, HEY, HEY, this is not happening!” You and Steve bellowed over the party as they stopped to look at the both of you, your arms falling around as Steve grabbed the tea towel from his shoulder, whipping the air,

“Do you two share the same brain cell?” Dustin looked towards you both,

“No!” you both shouted in unison again, looking towards each other before laughing, the kids joining you.

***

They were all ecstatic when they found out you were both dating, though they did have to push you both in the right direction, this whole thing was an unlikely friendship between people. The only reason you were involved with Dustin and his friends was because you babysat him whilst his mum was at work, this caused you to get involved with the disappearance of Will last year and in turn, with you being close to Steve. He was brought into the mix also.

It was so obvious to others, how you both felt about each other, but it wasn’t for you and Steve. After some coxing and words of wisdom from the younger party, as you called it. You and Steve were finally an item, though they didn’t find out until months later when Steve let it slip,

“Dustin, stop picking on my girlfriend, would you?” Steve looked up from his plate of food as he moved bacon around with his fork, leaning back against the dining room chair as he stretched,

“But she just- wait? What... girlfriend?” Dustin looked back and forth between you both, the pair of you looking confused, “you’re meant to tell us!” Steve carried on moving food around his plate as you took a bite of toast leaning against the counter,

“Tell you what?” you asked wiping the crumbs off your hands onto a discarded tea towel,

“Have you been listening to any of this conversation?!” Dustin questioned, “That you’re together! I can’t believe this! How long have you two been a thing?! Wait until the others find out about this!” You picked up your plate with half a slice of toast left and took a seat opposite Steve as Dustin still stood shocked, playing with his walkie,

Steve finished up his food and stood up to put his plate in the sink, he looked at the calendar furrowing his brows slightly at the small writing, “Like seven months? Right?” he looked back at you as you nodded, your mouth full of toast.

Dustin once again stood dumbfounded, his mouth visibly agape as he pressed a button on his walkie, “you are not going to believe this, guys.”

Hawkins, Indiana, June 1985

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” You smoothed out part of your Scoops uniform that was now creased and bloody from your split lip and Steve’s as he was continuously hunching over you in a Russian loading car trying to gather his senses and not be knocked from pillar to post by Dustin’s driving up front, laughter bubbling in your throat, the situation was anything, but funny. All three of you (Steve, Y/N, and Robin) had been interrogated to the max, but once they found out there was a tie between you and Steve, they took advantage of that.

***

“Who do you work for?” the guard got down into your face once more, holding the arms of the chair you were tied to, his eyes glaring into your own,

“How many times do I have to tell you I work for Scoops Ahoy? I scoop ice cream for a living!” you cried out as you earned another slap across your already throbbing jaw. Steve was tied up behind you already passed out, they’d done a number on him and all you wanted to do was get out of this place and tend to his injuries, he didn’t deserve any of this. Robin was tied to the corner of the room having to witness her two new best friends being treated like this.

The Russian guard got in your face once more, “it looks like your friend here needs a doctor. Just as well we have the very best.” A smirk across his face made you see red, and without thinking you spat at him. A slight tinge of blood from your split lip was dripping down your chin, staining the collar of your uniform, “you’re going to regret that little one.” With that he muttered something else in Russian before leaving the room with the other guards, leaving you three on your own once more, but not without Robin calling them all bastards and yelling to let you all out of there.

“Steve?” you called gently as Robin tried to manoeuvre her arms from her binds to no avail. Unlike you two, she was tied to a bench so she couldn’t do much whilst she was bound up. Steve started to stir, pain evident in the way he groaned, “oh thank god... are you okay?” you asked quietly not wanting to be too loud,

“Ears are ringing, I can barely breathe and, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but apart from that I’m doing pretty good.” His voice was laced with pain and sarcasm.

***

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you came to an abrupt end, all three of you hitting already pained parts of your body as Dustin crashed into something,

“You guys alright back there?” Dustin asked as he looked to Erica with a slight shrug, “They’re fine, come on. Let’s go.” Dustin hurried out and opened the back of the loading car, hurrying you all out. Time was of the essence after all. This definitely made him think about how he acted sometimes, it was a handful and the fact you and Steve cared for him and all of his friends ample times made him furrow his brow slightly, not that he would change after they got out of this mess, he had an excuse, he was still younger than you.

 “Guys! Come on!” Dustin bellowed as he huffed in annoyance, slapping his wrist, and ushering everyone into the elevator.

“Oh my god! A skateboard!” you screamed out in joy, jumping on a red platform truck as Dustin got to work pressing buttons and hoping for the best, once the elevator started to move, you started to struggle. Steve grabbed hold of the platform truck to stop it from moving too much,

“It looks like you're surfing!” Robin pointed at you as Dustin and Erica glanced at each other quite clearly done with your shit.

“They look drunk,” Erica stated, all of you now splayed on the floor talking about food, “why are they drunk, or drugged?” she questioned as Dustin felt Steve’s forehead,

“He’s burning up,” Dustin spoke to Erica alarmed,

“You’re burning up” Steve bit back, trying to push Dustin away with his hand whilst you and Robin laughed at the ceiling,

 “Eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated, Steve,” Dustin pat his cheek lightly, “are you drugged?”

“How many times, Dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve poked Dustin’s cheek and started laughing again as you and Robin shot up,

“you have marijuana?!” you crawled over to Steve and laid next to him, “gimme!” more laughs erupted from the three of you as Dustin and Erica watched on, wondering what the hell they were going to do to get you all out of this mess in one piece.

Getting you all back to the mall safely was a lot harder than Dustin could have imagined, Robin was picking at her uniform whilst tripping up over thin air whilst you and Steve were trailing behind humming and drumming the air to Simple Minds- Don’t You (Forget About Me) a song that had been on the radio continuously for the past month- a song Dustin thought you were both getting annoyed with as it came on the radio hours before you were in this mess and you were both scrambling with the radio to turn it off with rushed words of, fuck sake, turn it off, not this again, if I hear this song one more time I swear,

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t.”

“Don’t you, forget about me.”

Keeping you all hidden from the Russians was a lot harder than it could have been, with you three wanting food, and then trying to separate to find food, Dustin thought of a quick solution and got you all into the movie theatre but not before Steve reached into the bin to pull out a bag of discarded popcorn,

“You three sit.” Dustin pointed at the three vacant chairs as you all complained about being too close, and how the seats sucked. “Well then don’t watch the movie!”

“But we want to watch the movie!” Robin exclaimed as other people around you started to get agitated,

“Then watch it!” Dustin apologised to other people trying to shush you all, changing his tone to a hushed annoyed whisper, “Whatever you do. Don’t... go... anywhere.”

“Fine, Dad.” Steve perked up shaking his shoulders slightly as you and Robin snickered, taking handfuls of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

“That settles it,” Dustin huffed, “I'm never having kids." The pair sat down a few seats away, keeping their eyes off you trying to fetch up a plan.

Once they both realised you three had left the movie theatre, Dustin let out an audible sigh from his chest, this day, was not it.

“So, like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but... I’m pretty sure...that mum was trying to bang her son.” Robin leaned against the wall as you and Steve took turns drinking water from the fountain,

“But they’re the same age.” you stopped drinking and looked towards Robin,

“No, but he went back in time.” Robin looked up to the ceiling, balancing on one foot and then the other,

“Then why is it called back to the future?” Steve asked confused as he stopped drinking, letting Robin get to the fountain.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you stated “Back means past so how could he be travelling back to something that hasn’t even happened yet?” you questioned Robin, Steve looking at you doe-eyed, completely agreeing with you,

“He has to go back to the future because he’s in the past, so, the future is actually the present, which is his time” Robin added as you looked confused,

“wh...What?” you and Steve looked at each other astonished before you both got distracted by the ceiling lights, dizziness, and churning in your stomach had you all rushing to the toilet, bringing up everything that happened in the day.

“Well that was no fun,” your voice was harsh, your throat sore as you leaned back against the cold wall of the cubical, no longer dizzy, everything still, the walls no longer moving around you, “Back to the Future though, I can’t get over that.”

***

Hawkins, Indiana, March 1986

Walking into the creel house was way more disturbing than it looked outside, creaking floorboards, furnishings covered in dust and cobwebs, completely derelict, wherever you stood, something creaked.

Lucas went to check on a small lamp for some light, probably to take the edge off an already eerie situation, “looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” He stated as Dustin turned on his flashlight, you and Steve stood behind him glancing back and forth to each other,

“Where’d everyone get those?” Steve asked noticing that everyone had one except you and him.

Dustin looked back at the both of you as if to say unbelievable, “Do you two need to be told everything? You’re not children.”

“Thank you.” You said under your breath a little, huffing as Dustin took his backpack off,

“Back pocket.” He was used to you both forgetting things like that, you were both usually good with weapons and things you might need, and everything you didn’t, but never flashlights. You really did need to be told.

Max pointed out a big grandfather clock, hoping that everyone else could see it taking you away from looking at the scattered furniture,

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” you asked looking at the hands that were still,

“Maybe he’s, like, a clockmaker or something?” Steve said next to you, as you pursed your lips actually thinking about it,

"I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin chimed in, shaking his head in disapproval as you watched on, nudging Dustin slightly. Nancy told everyone to go in groups of two leaving you, Steve and a smiling Dustin. Steve let out a sigh and walked off signalling you to follow, “Was that a sigh?”

“No, I did not sigh.”

“Why’d you sigh?”

“I didn’t sigh. Just come on, dude.”

“I heard you.”

“We were just always partnered up with you, okay?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“It’d just be nice to, I don’t know, mix it up a bit.”

You continued to walk the stairs, creaking with every other step, as Dustin hurried up behind you, the pair of them starting to bicker a bit, a usual occurrence, “I’m boring to you? Is that it?”

“No it’s the opposite,” Steve added as he moved his (Dustin’s) flashlight around careful not to knock anything off the walls,

“Maybe me and Y/N should partner up and you go around this creepy house alone, is that what you want?” Dustin asked as Steve shot his head around almost tumbling back down the stairs,

“No! I don’t want that, sorry man.” Steve moved his hair that had fallen a little flat huffing once more. “We do make a good team, The Three Musketeers and all that.” You smiled at Steve’s remark, it was a book you both had to read when you were at school, though boring at the time, the lessons you learned from the book stayed with you. Chivalry, honour, heroics, and willingness. It was true. You, Steve, and Dustin probably had spent the most time together because even though you could both be a bit daft from time to time, you were both reliable and trustworthy with any problem Dustin had, even if that meant issues outside of the upside down. You both never found anything that Dustin had to say daft.

“Hey, uh, Henderson?” Steve asked, looking at the cobwebs that littered the place, “could you maybe, uh, clarify what sort of clues we’re supposed to be looking for here?”

“I second that,” you cut in,

“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” Dustin looked back at the both of you smiling, “Sherlock Holmes.” Seeing you both confused he huffed sincerely.

“That’s great. Thanks. That’s great. Really helpful” You huffed and shook your head, feeling dumb as Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb slowly, a knowing glance only the both of you understood.

“You're not stupid, not to me anyway.” Steve smiled as a small laugh escaped your lips a small vent in the floor catching your eyeline as you walked over to it, “Y/N, let me.” Steve crouched down in front of you lifting the metal from the floor, jars of preserved insects had you grimacing before Steve shot up alarmed, shaking his arm and flailing his hand to get a spider off, both of you clumsily falling through cobwebs and the door, into Nancy,

“Hey, hey, both of you, stay still. Stop moving.” She took time to rid you both of cobwebs as she lightly dusted dust off your arm, you and Steve then looking over each other,

“It was a black widow.” Steve lets out a breath of air, calmer than he was before, “Don’t go in there.” He shut the door adverting his attention back to you, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, kissing your nose lightly. “So uh, Nance. Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world, and stuff. Maybe we can all go out. You know? Me, Y/N, you, Jonathan, when he’s back.”

“I’d love to.” Nancy looked at you both endearingly, she was glad you both had each other. Everyone needed someone. She knew you both back in school, but never really spoke to either of you. She was too wrapped up in perfecting her grades, reading the next book on the shelf, but she was so thankful to be in your lives now.

Steve was finally with someone he could be himself around without feeling bad or awkward, even in this messed up world the both of you bounced off each other as though it were effortless. Although you were sometimes the biggest idiots, you were the biggest idiots in love.

[cythiraeth]

cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

 al-haitham

seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing,  it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.

the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud

i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second

you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite 

that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…

but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted 

of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.

"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.

but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:

"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction

so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped

you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…

because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship

(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)

"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression

"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?" 

you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does 

but oh, how wrong you were…

when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be

you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.

in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….

cyno

talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked

he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you

for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend

because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you 

also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never 

"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up

"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right

"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."

tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.

close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…

"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide 

"well, definitely not a "distant friend"" 

that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead 

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud

cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.

he. in love. with you? 

maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…

"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud

"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?

"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)

"because by now even collei knew"

xiao

 when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.

in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)

he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you

it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him

however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you

and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it

however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself

so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable 

alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.

he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)

and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…

he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings 

(he spent another few months on that though)

at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)

but still, his karmic debt… 

he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)

but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life

(take good care of him because he deserves it)

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[comingyourlugubriousness]

"Oh geez I'm so clumsy; how embarrassing! Huh, oh! You'll help me up? T-thank you!"

A BELLE OF DA BALL Yume for @starry-night-rose's Glimmering Soirée! I saw a lot of people doing this event and have been wanting to draw for it for awhile. Unfortunately, I've been sick the past week.

I went for a more femme design since my last two designs for Yume were more masculine; plus I just think dresses are more fun to draw. Heavily inspired by Cinderella's dress with my own takes.

During the event Yume isn't trying to be the belle of the ball themselves (that would be mortifying), they are actually heavily advocating for their brother Yuuta! (@bunnwich)

They are assisting the Prince's with their duties (mostly Deuce while avoiding Azul) while keeping and eye on Grim to make sure he's acting right! They're also taking pictures of everyone in their fancy clothes; partially bc Crowley told them too and partially for their own scrapbook.

VOICE LINES UNDER THE CUT:

Summon: You my friend, will be da belle of da ball!

Groovy: Everyone here tonight… don’t they kind of look like stars in the night sky…Hey! Don’t laugh! Haha! Was that too cheesy? 

Set Home: We’re all bedazzled up!

Home Idle: Azul tried to get me to sign some contract in order to” secure my brother's win”. Pff! Nice try, four eyes; do you think I’ve learned nothing?

Idle 2: When I walked up to Deuce and he gave me a big fancy greeting! He was so proud of himself; I didn’t have the heart to tell him he curtseyed at me…He’s not really cut out for princely stuff…

Idle 3: *whining* Kalim! Please don’t keep making me dance in these shoes! My feet are killing me *fake sob* who makes glass shoes anyway…

Idle Groovy:  Malleus came up to ask what was wrong with his Tamagotchi and everyone in the room gave us a wide berth. Is it that serious? He’s just some guy?

Home Login: Oh man…I don’t wanna think about how long it’s gonna take to clean all this glitter up. 

Tap: The Royal Sword Academy students keep coming up to greet me oh so politely. Something about it kinda gets on my nerves…

Tap 2: Hey, didja see Grim’s vest? I made it myself. It took me hours to bedazzle the whole thing!

Tap 3: Ugh…I feel like everyone's looking at me…maybe this outfit was a bad idea…

Tap 4: Hey, if you see Vil; don’t tell him I’m not voting for him. It’s nothing personal…! 

Tap 5: *sigh* I need a break. Hey, do you wanna go sit on the balcony with me? I’d prefer the company of the stars right now.

Tap Groovy: Oh! Wait right there! Let me get a picture of you in your outfit! You look amazing! Ready? Cheese!

Here is some sketchy draft for the dress too:

[aphroditesmoon]

Idk if youre taking requests, if not ignore me, however what about jace with alicents daughter!reader where they get together behind their mothers backs, and theire sneaking around ,failing at it, and alicent anfd rhaenyra catch them

sweetest thing on this side of heaven

jacaerys velaryon x targ!reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry for the slow req<3 also I had a feeling you wanted something angsty but my heart overtook my brain so this is all fluff.

°°°

You hadn't plan to fall for him at first. But it wasn't that hard to notice his own longing stares and embarrassing efforts to win you over.

You had assumed he would despise you for what your brothers have started, but you are not your brothers, and he knew that. You've always been kind to him since young, but never too close, not even with your own siblings.

Peace was found in solitude, and that was how most of your time was spent. Some may call you heartless, but your found more feelings and purity in stories than in reality.

For the world was crueller than the books made it seem like, and soon the library was your safe place.

You were quite annoyed when he started showing up there too frequently, always asking about what you're reading.

But when you saw his sincerity in actually wanting to know of your interests was real, having someone to talk to became less of a chore.

It even started to feel fun.

And so he became your first friend, first kiss and first lover. He intends to be your only.

Everytime he leaves to Dragonstone, letters will be sent every moon, and he will receive his own from Kingslanding. He was always careful to keep them to himself, gods know since Aemond lost his eye, the strain between his grandmother and his mother became stronger.

And he would always put his mother first as her heir, but you are his fresh cherry from a rotten tree, the ultimate test to his loyalty.

When news spread of the princess Rhaenyra's return to Kingslanding for her son's petition for the inheritance of Driftmark, You had to hold yourself back from showing just now excited you are to meet Jace again.

You also had to fight back the urge to bodyslam your brother to the ground everytime he opens his mouth to mock his nephews.

Aemond had remained bitter of the incident, and you couldn't blame him. You brother had lost a whole eye, he had the right to remain upset. But you still couldn't help the selfishness in you that draws you back to Jacaerys' side.

You hear the commotion servants made when they arrived, waiting for it to pass before approaching him, not wanting to seem too eager.

You lean againts the open door of his chambers, watching him put down his set if clothes by the table side.

"Hello there." You greeted with a knowing smile on your lips.

He freezes in his movements before turning towards you. You had no time to think when he immediately pulled you inside and slammed his doors shut.

Any words you've planned to say to him died on your throat when he has you againts the door, his lips immediately finding yours.

The kiss was hot and passionate, all of his yearning and longing pushed into it. Your hands roam his build, feeling up his tunic, searching for his skin, his warmth againts yours. His own hands stop yours, holding it by your side as he pulls away first for air.

He leans his forehead againts yours, and you can't help smiling as you meet his eyes.

"Missed me much?" He snorts, grinning himself.

"Don't act like you don't." He retorted. You only kept smiling, shaking your head. "Never said that did I? Hm." You fingers move up to trance his temples, caressing his face as if trying to remember all the details of his features you've feared to have forgotten.

He seems to understand the notion, with his own palms cupping your cheeks. "I'm here. I promise." He vows before engulfing your mouth with his again.

°°°

The only thing that went well that day was your reunion with Jace and his brother. Sir Vaemond was executed quite publicly by your uncle Daemon, unsurprisingly, and dinner was almost decent, until your brother decided he just had to open his mouth.

You were hurried to your chambers by your mother, and there was where you went and was met with your lover lounging in your room already, anxiously waiting for you to arrive.

"He knows what he was doing." Jace gritted out, pacing around.

"Of course he does, it's Aemond." He was obviously still infuriated with the events that occured, but your mind was drifting to what bits you heard from your mother and stepsister's conversation as you left.

Jacaerys and Lucerys was to leave to Dragonstone tonight.

Your abruptly stood up and cut off the rambling prince. "I should leave."

He halts and turn to you, wide eyed.

"Oh-Just a few more minutes? I'll stop talking to myself I promise." He pleaded, waving off his rambles.

You shook you head and pulled his hands to intertwine with yours. "No tis' not that, your mother will be here any minute, she wishes for you and Luc to be at Dragonstone by tonight, I heard her myself." You explain, gaze low as you fiddle with his rings.

You hear him inhale a sharp breath before swearing.

"I've just had you back." He sighs out, refusing to meet your eyes. It felt like the first time in ages you two met again, face to face, gazes never met.

"I know, I know. There always seem to be something between us, heh?" You try to lighten the mood, his face only souring more.

He winced at your words, tightening his grip on your hands before opening his eyes again. "You know, if she can't find me, she can't make me go." He says suggestively.

You gave him an amused look, frowning with a tight-lipped smile accompanied.

"What are you gonna do? Hide in the kitchen?" You tease, invoking a fond memory from childhood. He snorts as he checks outside his door for anyone before turning back to you. "Not hide, raid the kitchen."

"Ah sure." You grinned

He takes you by your hand and silently pulls you through the corridors before reaching the closed kitchen. The lock making the both of you scoff.

You had managed to pull it open by the age of 12.

"A little help?" He motioned. You took off a pin from your hair, making it come undone while the other pins fall apart on the floor.

"Fuck." You cursed, while Jacaerys works the lock with your pin. "We'll pick it up later." He simply affirms.

When a click was loudly made, he shoves the kitchen door open and sends you a smirk, earning an eye roll.

Entering the kitchen was entering an odd dazed memory. You can't remember exactly how long it has been since you've been with Jace, but it still feels like yesterday you two were sneaking out strawberry fudge cake and lemon tarts from the kitchen in the middle of the night, laughing quietly at the explosions of anger from the head kitchen lady that next morning.

His hand never leaves yours as you both head in. You sigh loudly as you pull open the cupboards to find leftover blueberry tarts. "My favourite." Savoring the tart, you finish it quickly, not caring for falling crumbs.

Jacaerys nudges your shoulder and takes no time to shove a piece of cheese toast in your mouth when you look his way.

You swatted his arm after almost choking on it. "Bastard." You scolded in a muffled voice.

As soon as the words leaves your mouth you regret them, seeing a flash of offense on his face. "Oh Jace-" An apology almost slipped until you saw the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

Immediately your face turns irritated again as you smack him harder. "Bastard."

You two spent a few minutes forgetting your responsibilities and your parents as you indulge in chocolate cakes and reminiscing the past.

It wasn't hard to find the two of you in such position like old days. You two had a connection that made it seem as if you've never parted in the first place.

"You know." He says before chucking a tart in his mouth. "When I'm king? I'm gonna make a law that forces you to stay with me." His muffled words makes you choke on a giggle.

Jacaerys often has to present himself extra harder than her brothers, for all the rumours of his illegitimacy. But at times like this, you can truly see the sweet boy in him, who'd rather live off tarts and flying by day than busy himself with ruling and paperworks.

"I'm also going to make a law to ban anything other than these tarts to be served because holy shit." You agreed. "Mhm, the cook definitely did something with these."

Before either of you could counter eachother's words, a foreign voice interrupts.

"How about you make a law to ban tart robbers from nightly kitchen raids." Rhaenyra's voice booms through the room.

Both you and Jace freeze in your actions, mouth full of food, eyes wide, horrified at the circumstances you were found.

To make matters worse, she wasn't the only one there. You silently curse when you see your mother's figure leaning againts the door opposite of Rhaenyra. Both of them holding an unreadable expression.

A long silence lingered until you decided to speak up and ask first; "Are you going to kill us."

You might be hallucinating but you swore you saw your mother fight off a grin before she and Rhaenyra sighs tiredly.

"Just give me one of those damned cakes." She relented.

[gojosatoruhumper]

Kinktober 2024 day 8

Denji x reader | swallowing

Prompt: You lose a bet with your best friend Denji, having to give him a blow job.

Warnings: come swallowing, thigh riding, blow job, making out, NSFW

(He's already 18 in this!!!)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You and your best friend Denji were hanging around in your shared room, Aki and Power out of the house for whatever reason. You and him were always close, even since his days where life wasn’t the best. He was on his bed looking out the window, sun already setting.

“I’m bored” he sighs, looking over at you. “Okay?” you say, not really caring attention, your attention set to the book you were reading. You really did love him, but you knew how dumb he was with his ideas. Especially those ‘I’m bored’ ones.

“Hmmmmm let’s do something Y/n” he said, crawling in your bed, laying on his back while you laid on your stomach, elbows prepped up with the book in hand. The book wasn’t that interesting, drawing your attention to Denji again, his stupid ideas were kind of fun sometimes you couldn’t lie.

“What you got in mind?” you ask smiling, not knowing what you were getting into. “Hm. Let’s make a bet” he said looking up at the ceiling and then continuing “And who ever loses has to do whatever the winner says”

“What kind of bet?” you ask, with a raised eyebrow. “hm” he thinks, getting an idea. “Let’s make out and who ever pulls away first loses.” he says, smiling with his teeth showing.

“No?” you scoff at him, shutting down his idea. “Awh is my Y/n scared of losing?” he mocked, he really was bored. “No way I’d lose to you” you say, sitting up. “Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, head resting on his palm while he laid sideways.

“Yeah.” you said surely “Come here” you demanded. He sat on the edge, legs dangling off the bed. “Wait I need to get comfortable for this” you say, getting on top of him, strangling his thighs. “Ready?” he asks “Mhm” you reply as he slowly was connecting your lips together, seeing he was shy you grabbed his shoulders, lips connecting, tongues pushing each other.

He gasped at the sudden move, closing his eyes. His hands awkwardly sat beside him so he slowly put them on your waist, further deepening the kiss. You both were running out of air, gripping each other a little more tightly, both determined to win.

He had a plan up his sleeve.

He started tickling you in order for you to be the first one to pull away. And you did. “Hey!!!!” “that’s so not fair Denji” you say getting annoyed. “This was a scam” you roll your eyes at him, getting ready to get off him until you felt his hands once again on you, forcing you to stay still.

“Hey we had a deal” he says, looking at you. “Pfft, a fair deal where you wouldn’t cheat” you say, crossing your arms. “Pleaseeee” he pleaded with those puppy eyes that you could never say no to.

“Okay, what do you want?” you ask, getting a little scared by what the answer could be. “I want a blow job” he proudly says. “A blow job?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah where you suck me off-“ he starts explaining, “Denji i know what a bj is” you say, feeling a hard boner beneath you.

You weren’t gonna lie to yourself, Denji always looked good. Like extremely hot. You had so many fantasies about him, but never really tried anything with him.

He was a big perv and probably would say yes to anything you were to propose but you also felt shy about him like that. You always saw him as a best friend and was scared to ruin that title.

The moon was glowing on his face, lighting up his blonde hair. The sight made you aroused. You slowly got off his lap, on your knees on the ground, looking up at him.

He didn’t really think this through, thinking that no way you would ever say yes to something like that. He was looking down at you, hands resting behind his back.

You slid off his shorts, boner in his boxers even more visible than before. Denji was as red as a tomato, embarrassed. “You okay Ji?” you ask, using the nickname he loved but you rarely ever used it to tease him. “Y-yeah” he said, covering his face with the back of his hand.

You took off his boxers, revealing his dick. He spread his legs further, making things easier for you. You jerked him off at first, spreading the pre-cum, that was already spilling, up his cock.

You locked in eyes with him as your warm mouth finally reached his tip, swirling it with your tongue before shoving the whole thing down. He wasn’t thick, but more lengthy, hitting the back of your throat deeper every bop.

His slender fingers reached your hair, intervening with the strands. Head falling back. “Y/n this feels even better than all the times i imagined this” he blurbs out. Hearing those words made your pussy clench around nothing. Was he really thinking of you like that?You always thought he had a crush on Power.

“Nooo, don’t stop” he whined, voice raspy. You continued bopping your head, jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His moans were getting louder at this point, breathing harder.

Good thing that you were both home alone. His dick started to twitch in your mouth, getting closer to his orgasm. “I-i want you to swallow everything” he said trying not to mix his words up.

Denji was making you wet at this point, moaning at the thought of him. The vibrations sent him over the edge, strings of cum going down your throat.

“Come here” he says, kind of whispering. You get on top of him, strangling his thighs with yours. He got close to your ear, getting a boost of confidence. “Ride my thigh” he whispered in your ear, hugging your waist. He knew his cock couldn’t take another round.

You waisted no time, pushing your hips back and forth on his thigh, trying to get as much friction as you could. Denji cut off your moans with a kiss, his sharp teeth slightly bitting your lips.

You had your hands on his neck, humping his thigh. You were also wearing one of his shirts that was a little big on you, and nothing but a black lace thong underneath.

His hands went from your waist to feel your tits, they felt even better then he ever thought your tits would feel.

One hand went to your waist again while the other went down into your thong, rubbing circles on your clit while you were still humping him.

“J-ji” you say not containing your moans in, head falling on his shoulder. His cold fingers felt so good your legs started shaking, toes curling.

You reached your climax, your bodily fluids getting on his thigh and on your bed. You look up at his face that was light up by the moon, giggling at him. “You’re so cute Ji” you peck him on the lips once again, hugging him.

“Sleep with me today” you say to him, resting your head on his chest. “What ever you say Y/n” he smiled at you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Power came in to y’all’s room wanting to ask what you guys wanted for breakfast, but she was met with the sight of Denji spooning you, both sleeping peacefully.

She tipped toed to Aki “I told you!!!” she said happily to him.

[lyssasdrafts]

★ 𓈒 ݁ STAR—CROSSED (rhysand x reader) ⊹

chapter eight: (written) ✧

𓈒 ݁ ✫ masterlist previous next

sometimes you really questioned the lengths that you go through in order to maintain your reputation and status as one of your university’s best students. you supposed it could also be due to the amount of fear that your professor bryaxis instilled within you. as if doing the photoshoot with rhysand wasn’t already enough, your professor had soon assigned you to begin tutoring other students within your major. mostly freshmen who needed help, but also the occasional classmate from your lectures who would likely fail if you didn’t offer your assistance.

that’s how you ended up spending your friday afternoon at the library that your friend nesta worked at. while you didn’t mind staying there since fridays were one of the least busy days at the library, it also happened to be the day that your friend took off work. you were patiently seated at one of the desks at the back, tapping your foot as you wait for your “student” to arrive.

needless to say, you’re definitely taken aback when a larger man walks into the library, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder as he wanders the place. he seems like he’s unfamiliar with the place and it clicks in your mind that he’s looking for you. you give him a bit of a stare, blinking at the sight of him before his eye finally catches you too.

“are you my tutor? you’re y/n, right?” cassian gives you a smile. although there’s only a few other people in the library, you suddenly feel them all staring at the man who just sat next to you.

“it’s cassian, right? i’m supposed to tutor you?” you try to hold back the distaste in your tone. if this was rhysand, you would be gloating and smiling to yourself the entire time that he needed your help for once. if this was azriel, their other friend, you would perhaps actually tolerate it. but cassian? there was no doubt he needed the help, but you weren’t hopeful as to whether or not he would actually listen to you.

“professor bryaxis sent me here,” cassian looks down, and for once you see a different side of him. he’s not the cheering, loud, overbearing jock, but instead, he hangs his head in embarrassment. it’s almost as if he’s afraid, like whatever lecture your professor gave him really stuck with him.

“are we even in the same major?” you can’t help but ask, twisting your face at him.

“no, i really only go to prythian university on a sports scholarship… but i needed your help for a compulsory course i have to take here,” cassian says. a part of you suddenly feels more inclined towards him after knowing there’s something you both have in common. you knew rhysand and morrigan came from a rich background but hadn’t known anything about cassian or azriel.

“compulsory is a big word for you,” the comment slips out of your mouth.

“i didn’t know that you thought i was dumb just because i’m strong,” he crosses his arms, “rhysand always says the same, you know.”

“we are nothing alike,” you stop cassian from going any further.

“it doesn’t matter,” he pulls out his notebook that’s in less-than-ideal condition, likely from being tossed into his backpack along with all his training equipment. “this is probably easy for you, so i’m asking for your help.”

you can’t help the chuckle on your face when you see the basic course he has to take, “this is just simple science—”

“can you help me or not?”

you sigh, before remembering the commitment you made and the look on your professor’s face, “i will.”

cassian smirks at you, “perfect, because i would not want to go back to professor bryaxis.”

you can’t help but laugh a little bit as his comment. “she’s the one who told me to start tutoring, and i was too scared to say no.”

“i can’t blame you, she really scares me…” cassian murmurs, almost as if he doesn’t think you can hear him.

the tutoring is quite simple. you explain each concept to cassian, drawing graphs and images if you believe they help with understanding. you make it your goal not to have any eye contact with cassian, instead just looking at the papers and his notebook in front of you the whole time.

it’s not until you drop your pen onto the ground and move your chair back to pick it up that cassian beats you to it, picking it up for you and handing your pen back.

“thank you,” you mutter, for the first time looking into his brown eyes. cassian pushes his long hair back before he nods, accepting your thanks.

“i still can’t believe i have prythian’s smartest student tutoring me,” cassian gives you a look that you’ve only seen him flash to certain girls in the hallways.

“you really think so? over rhysand?” you roll your eyes.

“don’t tell him i said that,” cassian winks at you. “i’m jealous sometimes that he spends so much time with you. you push him to be better, to study better. for me, i’m the only one pushing myself.”

“you don’t have teammates or your coach?” you ask.

“rhys and azriel used to play on my team in our first two years, but both of them dropped it to focus on studying. they made having coach beron way better. now i’m left with people like devlon,” cassian groans.

“i never liked him either,” you shake your head. devlon was one of the players on cassian’s team, his vice captain, much to cassian’s dismay. the two have even had a few public fights that rhysand had to break up, which resulted in both of them being threatened to be kicked off the team by coach beron.

“he’s not just annoying, he’s a terrible person. you know he has a reputation for not respecting other students right?” cassian shakes his head. “that’s why i got into a brawl with him last year. i was defending a girl in my class who he wasn’t listening to.”

“you were…?” you tilt your head, perhaps realizing that there was more to cassian than you’d expected.

“if he ever gives you any trouble, let me know. and i mean it,” cassian looks at you in the eyes again, and you realize that he’s being completely serious. cassian had just met you and already offered to look out for you.

“thank you…” you say again, realizing your time tutoring him should be over. “i’ll see you soon.”

“don’t you need help carrying all these books?” cassian says, “they seem heavy.”

“i can handle it myself,” you insist.

“i’ll take them,” cassian says.

as he begins collecting the textbooks and novels at the library desk, you take a look at cassian’s figure and his features that you’d never appreciated until now. his arms, his muscles, and you take a deep breath to collect your thoughts before grabbing your smaller bag and heading towards the library door.

cassian follows behind you, carrying you books until the end of the walk outside the library. it suddenly occurs to you that having a tall and built protector might not be the worst thing. perhaps rhysand’s friends weren’t that bad.

“thank you, i can handle it from here,” you try to take your books back from cassian, and he awkwardly fumbles before letting you grab them. you’re about to walk away without looking back to him before his voice stops you.

“well then, i’ll see you around, y/n.” cassian gives you a wink before walking off.

— NOTES

finally we have our introduction to cassian, my fav himbo 🫶

i randomly decided to make b*ron their coach (debating adding eris to this au as a background character)

sorry for the EXTREMELY long hiatus, life has been crazy lately and i’ve always hit a writers block, i can promise more chapters coming soon!!

— TAGLIST

@thelov3lybookworm @starsand @lilah-asteria @therealmoonstone @just-a-social-casualty-1 @ashjade19 @girlontheblock @cherry-cin @daughterofthemoons-stuff @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @sweet-chai-amore @kierramofficial @noelli-smv @c-dizzle99 @littlest-w01f @marina468 @dragneel-brothers

[piastriesque]

leave the scent fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

⤷warnings: cheating, manipulation, suggestive

⤷summary: fernando may be a cheater but at least he smells so good

⤷word count: 1.1k

note: 'cologne' by beabadoobee inspired me to write this. i wanted to add link, but it didn't look the way i wanted it to, i didn't know how to make it smaller. anyways, it's really fun song. i apologize for any mistakes

“Mmm,” you murmured, hugging him. “You really smell so good. I absolutely love your cologne.” “I noticed,” Fernando chuckled. “The bottle of it is nearly empty. But I guess I should buy another one since you like it so much.” “Yes, please.” You rested your head on the nape of his neck to smell it better. “Speaking of scents… you smell different today.” he whispered in your ear, “Do I sense musk?” “Yes, white musk. I bought it yesterday.” “Hmm, what else do we have here?” he inhaled deeply, “Vanilla, cedarwood, bergamot, and…” “You are so good at it. I believe there’s also pear, rose, jasmine…” you were thinking “Wait. I'll just show you the packaging.” After a brief moment, the man held the perfume box in his hands. He read the product description with interest to find out what fragrance notes he did not detect. He then opened the box and slowly took the bottle out of it. Inside was a small glass rose. He had to admit that it looked quite realistic. “The bottle was the first thing that caught my eye. Look at these thorns!” you were quite excited, “This rose is tiny, but attention to detail has been maintained.” “It’s gorgeous,” he agreed. “Okay, enough about the bottle.” You put the perfume back on the shelf and walked closer to the man. “What do you think of the fragrance?” “It’s quite… intense.” “Intense? Is this a bad thing?” you laughed, but actually felt a little insecure, you really cared about his good opinion. “No. Of course not. You smell great. It was definitely a good choice,” he reassured you. “But very different from what you used before.” “I know. I guess I want to be more… seductive.” You could feel your cheeks turning red. “Seductive?” he smirked and came closer to you. You nodded, embarrassed. “If so,” he grabbed you by the chin and lifted it so that you looked into his eyes, “How about showing me how seductive you are?”

You were lying on his chest, drawing zigzags on it with your finger. You wanted this moment to last forever. “Nena,” he kissed your head, “I have to leave in a minute.” “No, please stay longer,” you pouted. “I can’t. I have to go home. Javi is sick,” he explained while stroking your hair. You weren't going to argue anymore. You knew how important his children were to him, and you understood that. Nevertheless, the position you held in his life did not satisfy you. On the other hand, what could you expect going into a relationship with a married man with children? This is the question your voice of reason should prompt you to ask. Unfortunately, your voice of reason and moral compass have drowned in the Spaniard's brown eyes. Sometimes when remorse would catch you, you would recall his words about his wife. About how badly she treats him. How the feeling between them had faded years ago, and they are only together because of the children. About the fact that the children are growing up, and it will soon be the right time to divorce. “What's going on in that beautiful mind?” his voice snapped you out of your reverie. “Do you love me?” “Of course,” he kissed you softly, “I love you. Where did this silly question come from?” “I wonder if you are taking me seriously. We only meet at my place. We can't go to the park together or to any restaurant. Nowhere. I can't call you when you're at home. I don't know your friends. You don't want to introduce me to your parents. You're even hiding your address from me,” you were upset and tired. “Mi amor.” Fernando started caressing your cheek, “I will soon introduce you to my children, parents, and friends. I will brag about you in front of everyone. We will go on romantic dates regularly. And as for my address, one day you will know it by heart… You will live in this house.” “Are you serious? Are we going to live there?” “Of course, cariño. You, me and my… sorry, our children. I mean, only if that’s what you want” You smiled widely and kissed his lips, “I want it.” “I’m glad,” he smiled and unlocked his phone to check the time. “I think I really should go.” “Why don't you stay a little longer? I don't think this will hurt anyone. I’m not done yet.” You put your hand on his chest, slowly running it down his body. “Let’s go for another round,” you whispered in his ear. “You know what,” he kissed your neck, “You really are seductive.” You knew you wouldn't be able to drag out the moment of his leaving, but you hoped he would at least leave the scent of his cologne.

Fernando was right; your new perfume really was intense. After leaving your flat, he could smell them on himself all the time. His cologne was also strong, but a sensitive nose could sense that it was mixed with some other scent. He was afraid his wife would do it.

“Mi amor,” he greeted his wife, entering the room. “Hi. Your meeting lasted a little longer than it was supposed to.” She said while cutting vegetables. “Unfortunately. But you know how it is” he sighed “As a little compensation, on my return, I went shopping. Kids still in school?” “Yes, they will need to be picked up soon.” “I will do it,” he declared, “But first… I have something for you.” “Really? What’s that?” The man pulled a box from his shopping bag. He then handed it to the woman. “Perfume?” She smiled, holding a bottle with a glass rose inside. “As soon as they fell into my hands, I immediately thought of you.” “The design is really beautiful.” “Design? Wait until you smell the fragrance,” he laughed and took the bottle from her hands. Fernando sprayed the perfume in the air and walked into it, with a proud face. “Stop it” she couldn’t stop giggling, “You are about to use up all the perfume.” She walked up to the man and hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head. “I must say, it smells really nice,” she acknowledged. “You see, I have a taste. And it's not just this perfume, I've also chosen the most gorgeous woman to be my wife.” The woman looked deep into his eyes, “Thank you. For the perfume and for everything. Thank you for being in my life. I love you.” “I love you too.”

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Wilbur Soot’s Guide to Side Hustles | camboy!Simpbur x camgirl!reader | Part One

My first ever series on this blog yayayayay! Also first time writing Simpbur. No fucking clue when the next chapter will be up though. Could be next week. Could be a month. Life contains many mysteries.

Summary: Wilbur has had a long line of obsessions in his time. In a desperate attempt to get the attention he craves, he starts making content online. When he encounters you at a party full of other creators...well, he's never been good at staying away from things that draw him in, and you may very well be his undoing.

Warnings/Tags: sub!Simpbur, dom!reader. Unrealistic sex/depictions of sex work (although I did try), smut, pegging, general simpbur creepiness, discussions of virignity/consent, low self-esteem and insecurity problems, unhealthy attitudes toward sex. Reader is AFAB and a woman

Word Count: 11.3k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

“Hey, creep.” 

Wilbur blinked and looked up from his math textbook. Standing right in front of him was a girl from his English course, a girl he’d had a crush on for years. They had never actually spoken. Instead, he’d done what he did best—watched from afar and stayed out of it. For a moment, despite her harshness, he just stared, basking in her attention. 

She laughed, and her friends laughed from a few desks away as they looked on. “Do you know how to speak?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could feel his cheeks burning. “What’s, um…what’s up?”

“‘What’s up’?” The girl laughed again. “I’ve seen you hovering near my locker, you fucking pervert.”

Wilbur froze. “I-I wasn’t—“

“Oh, you weren’t?” She leaned against a nearby desk. “Who’s been leaving me notes, then?”

Wilbur wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole. He had been leaving notes. And admittedly, yes, some of them were creepier than others. The notes ranged from Good luck on midterms :) to You looked so hot in class today. And despite Wilbur’s general lack of self-awareness, he recognized how this looked. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stop.”

“If you don’t, I’m reporting you,” she replied. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Got it.” Wilbur had never felt more embarrassed. The other students began to whisper. He could feel a million eyes on him—well, what felt like a million, at least. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at his desk as his eyes stung.

“Good.” The girl stood there for another few moments. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You could almost be cute, if you weren’t such a freak.”

Present Day

You could almost be cute if you weren’t such a freak.

Wilbur remembered that, because of course he did. It was the closest he ever got to someone returning his affections. Yes, he knew it was pathetic, but that shred of affirmation went a long way.

He started bettering himself. It started with better hygiene, not wearing clothes multiple days in a row, properly washing his hair. His parents had been bothering him to do that for ages, anyway. He dressed better, tried to socialize. That last point didn’t go too well. He got bullied to the point that he ended up switching schools and had to deal with the fact that at least a bit of it was warranted.

He never saw that crush of his ever again. He developed new ones, new fixations. He didn’t leave notes, though, or stalk anyone or do anything to arouse suspicion. He promised himself that he could be normal, that he would be normal.

Well, perhaps he’d intentionally switched classes a few times to “keep an eye on” some of the people he became fixated on. But was that such a big deal?

And then university came. Loans, what felt like a million dollars in debt. One night, the result of a drunken decision, he filmed himself getting off. On an even more questionable drunken decision, he posted it online to some internet forum he had only heard of in passing. The second he remembered it the next day (after recovering physically a bit from his previous drinking binge), he was absolutely mortified.  And yet, to his immense surprise, people liked it. It wasn’t any sort of viral sensation, of course, but he had a decent number of comments when he woke up in the morning. At first, he was put off by the vulgarity of it, but then, he realized that this was how he could get the high that he’d always craved—attention. 

He started working on it. Filming videos, uploading photos. Pretty soon, he had an OnlyFans account going. His content was mostly solo stuff, webcam livestreams and private chats with his more dedicated followers. To his surprise, he started making decent money. It was nice to have something to help relieve some of the university debt. Plus, the validation was nice, even if it was only in praise of his body.

Besides, he had long given up the idea of anybody loving him for anything other than that.

Online, his persona was more submissive. It was easier for him, not having to fake confidence that he didn’t have. Instead, he could let himself moan as loud as he wanted, let the microphone pick up every small gasp and whine as he got himself off either with his hands or one of the million toys that he’d purchased since starting the job. The needier he looked, the better.

Then, he found the confidence to do his first collaboration. The benefits of moving to a larger area for university were plenty, but one of the biggest benefits turned out to be the fact that he was far from the only sex worker in the city. He lost his virginity to a girl on a livestream, although she didn’t know it was his first time. At least, she pretended not to know. Wilbur got the feeling that she could tell. Either way, it had made good content. In fact, it had been so profitable that she had invited him to a small gathering of some other creators—sex workers of all types.

And that was how he ended up holding a can of cheap beer in the corner of a party. It was at someone’s apartment, someone he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. The music was far too loud, the conversation too overwhelming. For a moment, Wilbur was sixteen again, sitting at his desk and wanting to disappear.

At least, until you walked in. You, dressed to the nines for a simple house party. For a moment, he locked eyes with you, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He looked away first, too intimidated, too afraid. However, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you walked into the kitchen to greet the host of the party and grab a drink. 

When you reentered the living room, Wilbur’s eyes immediately went back to you. Suddenly, it was as if nobody else was there. He could feel it creeping up on him again, the beginning of an obsession.

Be normal, he reminded himself. Don’t be a creep.

He watched as you greeted almost everyone at the party, flawlessly interacting with the guests. Clearly, you knew your way around. Eventually, you made your way over to Wilbur. He took a sip of his beer to try and appear casual, only to choke slightly.

“Shit, didn’t mean to startle you,” you said, chuckling. “You alright?” You leaned against the wall right beside him, so close that he could smell your shampoo. Or maybe it was perfume. He couldn’t tell, and honestly didn’t care to discern the difference. 

“Fine,” Wilbur replied. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You caught me mid-sip.”

“My bad, stranger.” You offered your hand. “I’m Y/N. And you’re Wilbur, right? Allison told me about you.”

Wilbur hesitantly shook your hand before pulling his own hand away suspiciously quick. “Right, yeah,” Wilbur replied. “We did a livestream earlier.”

“I heard. Apparently it was a hit.” You briefly glanced at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “And you’re new on the scene…?”

“Yeah, pretty new.” Wilbur shrugged, trying to play it cool and relax his nerves. “That was my first non-solo livestream.” And my first time having sex ever his mind reminded him. Because people only want you if they can profit. 

He shook the thought away as you spoke again. “Damn. Pretty good for your first time, then.” You grinned at him. “Most people don’t get this kind of attention so quickly.”

“It’s…definitely been a surprise to me,” Wilbur agreed. A tense silence passed between you and Wilbur. “So…you also do the whole…camgirl thing?” He thought that he’d heard of you in passing, but before, he’d had no reason to look you up.

“Yeah! Two years and going. Still doing mostly solo stuff, but trying to branch out a little,” you replied. “It can be difficult to know who to trust in this industry, who genuinely has your best interests at heart and who is taking advantage.”

“I bet.” Wilbur set his beer aside. It wasn’t that good, anyway. “Do you like it?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Other times no. Depends on how creepy people are that day.” 

Wilbur laughed, nodding in agreement. He watched you as you took a sip of your own drink, some sort of cocktail. “But you make good money?” he asked. His frenzied mind attempted to come up with some flirtatious lines, but nothing else left his mouth. Considering how cringy all the lines were, it was for the better.

“Decent money,” you replied. “And you?”

“Decent money.”

“Cool.” Wilbur felt slightly uneasy as you eyed him up and down. “Hand me your phone,” you said after a moment.

Wilbur blinked. “Why?” he asked. Despite his questioning, he unlocked his phone and handed it over without complaint.

“So I can give you my number,” you replied. You began entering your contact information. “Not to be too forward, but the main reason I came to this party was just to network. Like I said, I’m branching out, and it seems that you’re doing the same.” You handed his phone back. “Maybe we could collab.”

Wilbur felt his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt like it was spinning, and considering he’d only had half a beer, he definitely couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “Oh. Um…you sure?”

You smirked. “You seem harmless enough, Wil. Besides, we can talk a bit beforehand, get to know each other a little. I’d rather not fuck someone without knowing a bit about them.”

“Fair.” Wilbur very shakily tucked his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He noticed you starting to leave. “We’ll be in touch, then?” he asked.

You winked. “You can count on it.” Only a moment later, you disappeared into the crowd.

Wilbur left the party immediately after. He saw no point in staying if he couldn’t talk with you more. Even after that sliver of conversation, everyone else at the party seemed even more dull than before. He got into the back of a taxi, trying (and failing) to make his brain go quiet.

All he could think about was your skin under the multicolored lights at the party, the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile. He checked his phone, and all he could think about was the fact that your hands had touched it less than fifteen minutes prior. And maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right he would get to touch you for real.

He imagined your hands on him, fingers curled around his cock. Nobody had ever given him a handjob before, but he (for better or worse) had always had a vivid imagination. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window of the cab as he imagined it, your fingers on him. He tried to imagine every detail, the texture of your fingertips, the tone of voice you would use as you praised him.

By the time the taxi dropped him off outside his apartment building, he was achingly hard. He made it to his studio apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and immediately sat on his bed. He opened his laptop and searched for your name.

Sure enough, he found your OnlyFans, as well as the few free teaser clips that you’d uploaded elsewhere. There you were, a vibrator on your clit in one clip, your fingers teasing your own nipples as you moaned for the camera.

He slammed the laptop shut. No, he told himself. No more obsessions. If you manage to make this work, all she’ll be to you is a colleague, a coworker. 

Don’t be a creep.

He got out of bed and made it to the bathroom, where he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and turned on the shower. A cold shower would do the trick, he figured. Admittedly, he’d never actually tried the method, but it was the best he could think of. He could scrub away all thoughts of you, get rid of his hard-on, and call it a night.

He shivered as the cold water hit him. It felt fucking awful, cold water on his skin when all he wanted was warmth, but he toughed it out, waiting for his “problem” to resolve itself.

But it was no use. All he could think about was the sound of you moaning in that video, gorgeous lips parted, legs spread. He couldn’t help but wish he could hear you moan for real, not the fake sort of moans that are exaggerated for the camera. 

He gave up after a while and got out, wrapping his lower body in a towel as he did a walk of shame back to his bed. He sat on the towel and reopened his laptop.

He found your OnlyFans page, and without thinking, he subscribed. He wasn’t sure if you could see his username if he used his official account, so he made another guest account. You were worth the inconvenience. He started to scroll. He saw a clip of you and Allison, you grinding against her thigh. Another clip showed you edging yourself into oblivion, cheeks flushed, eyes watering. That was the clip he finally settled on. 

He edged himself along with the video, stopping whenever you stopped. If your hand stopped moving, so would his. In his mind, it felt almost like mutual masturbation, like you were really there doing this with him. He imagined you watching him, murmuring praise to him. 

It wasn’t often that he got off without toys, not because he couldn’t, but because he was almost always filming his orgasms, and thus toys were usually involved. Despite not having any added vibration or stimulation, he came harder simply from touching himself while watching your videos than he had in months. 

He laid there afterward, his own cum on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. You’re absolutely hopeless, he told himself.

And yet, he couldn’t stop now. Not when you were so close. 

It took Wilbur three days to work up the courage to text you, and from then on, conversation flowed naturally. At first, it was small talk about the industry—which people did you know, how many parties had you been to, what sort of content were you interested in making, and on and on and on. Wilbur was honest, admitting his lack of experience in the world of sex work, although he didn’t admit his lack of sexual experience in general. If he did, he might scare you off or make you hesitant, and he didn’t want that.

Conversation then turned to more personal matters. Still surface level, yes, but less detached than talks of industry and networking. He learned that you were a camgirl on the side, using the funds to add to the money you made from waitressing as you saved up. He also learned your favorite restaurant in the city (which he offered to take you to sometime, delighted when you accepted the offer) as well as your favorite bands, books, movies…all the surface-level questions he could hope to get answers for. 

To his dismay, two weeks of texts went by without you mentioning possibly meeting up to film together. Just when he thought that was off the table and this would only amount to friendship, his phone buzzed as he was working on an essay. He picked it up, assuming it would be either one of his parents or a spam call, and grinned when he saw your name. You were requesting a FaceTime call, so he quickly smoothed his hair before answering.

“Hey!” you said cheerfully. Wilbur was so relieved to see your face, not just on your OnlyFans, but you, you choosing for him to see you. You looked like you were fresh out of the shower, and he realized quickly that you weren’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see anything below your shoulders, but the realization still had him speechless for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Hi!” he said back with equal cheerfulness. “How’re you?” He flicked on another light in his apartment so that you could see him better.

“Good,” you replied. A moment of silence passed. “Listen, are you free Saturday?”

“Yeah, why?” The truth was, Wilbur wasn’t free Saturday. He was in a study group for an upcoming exam, but at that moment, he decided that he didn’t give a shit. He would happily flunk an exam if it meant getting to spend more time with you. He had only seen you in person once, and only for a tiny moment in time, and all he had thought about since then was getting more. 

“I have a business idea,” you said. Wilbur watched as you sat down on a couch at what must be your apartment. He caught a glimpse of the top of a towel wrapped around your torso, and although this thought made him slightly disgusted with himself, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Still, his disappointment only lasted a second once your words sunk in.

“A business idea?” He immediately perked up. “What is it?” His mind went wild with possibilities. A livestream? Some short clips? A whole homemade porn film? 

“So…your online persona is more on the submissive side, right?” you asked.

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. “How did you know?” Although the two of you had talked about the industry, bonded over creeps on the internet and the like, the details of your content had gone mostly undiscussed. 

He noticed the rather sheepish expression on your face. “I may have done some research,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight to keep himself calm. You had done research on him? That meant you had definitely seen some of his content, and not only that, but seeing his content made you more interested. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared. If it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have cared, but you? You, the subject of his obsession (he’d finally admitted to himself that’s what it was), the person he thought of every night before going to bed, thought he was desirable? Maybe not desirable, but at least worthy of seeing, worthy of working with. That was enough.

“It’s not weird!” he reassured you. “I…I may have done the same.” He did not tell you that he had a whole folder on his laptop that was only clips of you, that he’d labeled each video, that he’d gotten himself off to every single one. He definitely didn’t tell you that while filming himself the day prior, he’d been thinking of you the entire time. No, that was too much. That was creepy, that was obsession…but based on your admission, he figured a bit of the truth couldn’t hurt.

Thankfully, you reacted positively. “Thank god,” you said, laughing softly. “I thought you’d think I was a pervert.”

“No! No, of course not,” he said quickly. “I would never.” He settled his back against the headboard of his bed. “So, anyway, what was the idea?”

“Well, as I was saying,” you continued, “your persona is more on the submissive side. I portray myself as more dominant. Very convenient for us, no?” Wilbur nodded along as you spoke. “I was wondering…” You trailed off. “I can be forward with you, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.”

“Great! How do you feel about getting pegged?” A moment of silence passed as Wilbur’s brain completely short-circuited. He didn’t realize how long he’d been quiet until you spoke again. “Okay, uh…maybe I was too blunt.” He heard your awkward laugh through the phone.

“No! No, not too blunt at all. I’m fine with it,” he replied. “Yeah, no, that sounds great.” He tried to hide the nervous undertone to his voice. Using toys on himself is one thing; being on the receiving end of someone else’s movements is another. “I’d be down for that.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You were quiet for a moment, there.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m completely sure,” Wilbur replied. “You want to, um, livestream that? Or are we just filming…?”

“Just filming,” you replied. “Having sex live is way more complicated. This way, we can try a couple different angles to see what looks best on camera.”

“Right.” Wilbur took a deep breath. “That sounds good. You said Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah,” you responded. “And I was thinking we do it at my place. No offense, I’m sure your setup is nice, but I’ve been in the game a bit longer. I’ve probably got nicer gear.”

“That’s great. Sounds good.” Wilbur’s nerves kicked up a few more notches. He was going to embarrass himself, he just knew it. He was going to walk in, immediately get hard just looking at your setup (which was already somewhat familiar to him) and look like a loser. He tried to shove that thought away.

Thankfully, it seemed that you sensed his discomfort. “Listen, uh…I know that you’ve only done something like this once,” you said. “If you ever change your mind, you can leave. I won’t judge you for that, even if we’re in the middle of filming. Consent rules don’t magically go away when there are cameras rolling.” 

Wilbur’s heart thumped in his chest. You were smiling warmly at him over FaceTime, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with you. His thoughts weren’t sexual, at least not in the moment. 

His mind wandered. When was the last time he’d been held by somebody? He’d never once been held by somebody who liked him romantically. He wasn’t sure that anyone outside his family had ever so much as hugged him. The thought made him dizzy. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“Don’t thank me. It’s basic decency.” You continued smiling at him. “Oh, we don’t have a time set. Does one work?”

“One is fine,” Wilbur replied. “I’m totally cool with one.”

“Sounds good. Saturday at one, then,” you said. “Be ready to film.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wilbur promised. He just hoped that it was a promise he could keep.

He spent the rest of the week panicking. He shoved himself into schoolwork, studying, finishing up the essay that you had distracted him from. On Saturday morning, he woke up, shaved, took a shower, blow-dried his hair and got dressed. He knew that the clothes would be coming off, but he tried to dress somewhat nice anyway. He figured that even his nicest jeans and a button-up would be fine. He kept reminding himself that a business encounter was all this interaction would be.

Around noon, he got a text from you: 

Hey ;) ready to film?

He quickly replied. 

Born ready. Send your address?

The next message contained your address. He took a deep breath, brushed his teeth (for the third time that day) and set off. He left his apartment, got into his car, and started driving.

He put on a playlist on the way there, one he had made containing music from your favorite bands. He kept constantly checking himself in the mirror to the point where he realized he would hit something if he didn’t stop. He was an absolute wreck of nerves.

He pulled into the apartment parking lot and got out of his car. He walked into the building, took the elevator…

And there was your door. He stepped toward it and hesitantly knocked three times. The wait was agonizing. He stood outside the door for a minute before you opened it.

“Sorry!” you said. “I was in the middle of getting the lighting set up. Come in!”

“No worries.” He followed you inside. Your apartment was immaculately clean, with enough decorations to add character without being overwhelming. He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it took a lot to keep himself calm the second he stepped through the door. The whole place smelled like you, and it was enough to make him lightheaded. He looked at the setup, and it was honestly impressive. You had a professional-level camera setup, multiple lights, and cameras at various angles. “This is…wow,” he said. “You know your shit.”

“I’m a professional.” You winked at him as you adjusted the angle on one of the cameras. “Okay, so…a bit unconventional, but we’re going to do a test of sorts to make sure that the angles on the cameras are correct. Is that alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “As you said, you’re the professional. I’ll let you call the shots.” He had no idea what a “test” would entail, but he wasn’t about to question it. He stood off to the side, watching you as you worked. Your white tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

“Great.” You adjusted one of the lights, lowering it slightly. “What do you think? Too bright in here?”

Come to think of it, it was a little blinding. “Maybe a bit softer,” Wilbur suggested.

“Good idea.” You nodded in agreement and dimmed the lights. “Better?”

“Better.” Wilbur took a few deep breaths. “We good to go?” 

“Good to go.” You sat on the bed, examining the angles from your sitting point, clearly trying to decide if they were any good. “Yeah, definitely good to go.”

“Okay, then.” Wilbur stood there awkwardly. “What, um, what do I do?”

“Like I said, I want to test the angles before we start actually filming.” Wilbur watched as you pressed record on all the cameras. “I figure we just experiment with a few positions, see how the camera captures it. You can stay dressed if you want—-like I said, this is just a test.”

“Alright,” Wilbur murmured. He sat on the bed and nearly froze when you cupped his cheek. His face was so close to yours that he could barely breathe.

“You still okay with this?” you asked, searching him for any sign of hesitation. He nodded. This was terrifying, but the thought of walking away was even scarier. “Good.” Mere seconds later, you pressed your lips to his.

It took him a second to kiss back, but once he started, he never wanted to stop. Your lips were soft against his, just testing the waters at first. He had no idea where to put his hands, but he didn’t have to think about it for long, as you quickly pushed him onto his back. He made a small noise as you got on top of him and continued kissing him.

Wilbur didn’t consider himself a good kisser. It wasn’t like he had much experience. The kisses became rushed and sloppy, and just as he started to settle into the rhythm, you were getting off of him and checking the camera footage. He sat there, dazed, as you made your way around the edge of the bed, checking what the cameras picked up. You were explaining something about the process, something about lighting and shadow and…whatever else, Wilbur wasn’t listening. He could still taste you, still feel your lips against his.

He only snapped back to reality when you approached the side of the bed again. “You still okay with the pegging thing?” you asked.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He could feel how hard he was, the slight friction against his jeans, but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Who cared if this was just for work, just for content? He was about to have you, and having you in any capacity was better than not having you at all. 

“Alright, then.” He watched as you opened a nearby dresser. “I have a couple things that you can choose from…” You pulled out a box and set it on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer as you opened it, his throat catching at the array of items. “These are all the toys I have that are compatible with the harness,” you explained. “I’d rather us not start filming until the main event, so to speak. We can get you all prepped before that.”

He nodded, breath catching in his throat. “Sounds good,” he choked out. He glanced over the collection of toys. Some of them were definitely too big for him, so he avoided them. His eyes finally landed on a pink dildo, just slightly bigger than the one he’d used in a recent clip. “That one, maybe?” He pointed.

“Good choice,” you said. “Just got this one.” You picked it out of the box and laid it on the bed. Wilbur’s eyes stayed on you as he watched you gather more stuff—-the strap-on harness, some lube, a buttplug. You went about it with the precision of a doctor gathering medical supplies. It was both hot and slightly unnerving.

“Do we have everything?” Wilbur asked. He shifted slightly, both to get comfortable and because it was difficult to sit still when he was so close to you. 

“Yep! We’re set.” You sat back down on the bed close to him. He shuddered as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Wilbur confirmed. He closed his eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back, less sloppy this time, less desperate. He wanted to be able to contain himself, at least a little. He didn’t know what you’d think of him if he appeared too needy.

Your gentle hands pushed him backward, and he laid down on your soft mattress, eyes unfocused as he looked up at you. He pulled you in for another kiss, and whined as your tongue found his. The sound was pathetic in his mind, but it seemed to spur you on further. He gasped as you grinded against him. Even though it was only the tiniest bit of friction, it was one of the best things he’d ever felt. His hands wandered to your waist, sliding under your tank top. It was the boldest thing Wilbur had done so far, and he was more than pleased when you leaned further into his touch. 

A moment later, your lips left his. He frowned for only a split second before realizing why. When he opened his eyes, your hands were brushing against his as you took off your tank top, leaving absolutely nothing underneath.

He stared. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly to touch all of it—-your stomach, your bare waist, your chest. It was almost too much. His cheeks went red as he heard you laugh softly. “Enjoying the view?” you teased.

“Oh! Um…sorry,” he said sheepishly. He forced his eyes upward, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. To his surprise, there was no sign of disgust or embarrassment on your face, only amusement. “You’re just gorgeous. Couldn’t help it.” 

“Of course I am. How else would I have gotten this job?” You smirked down at him, and he managed to laugh despite his nerves. “In all seriousness,” you said, “thank you. You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

It was one of the more tame comments he’d gotten in recent times, but it was by far the best. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice coming out as a squeak. Before he could apologize for that, you were kissing him again. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, and he helped you take it off without hesitation. His mind went blank as your hands wandered his skin, tracing the lines of his abdomen and chest. He returned the favor, letting his hands wander a little. He held back, not squeezing or grasping, just lightly touching. 

You slid out of your shorts, and Wilbur fumbled with the button of his jeans. Once he undid that, you got his zipper for him. You lifted yourself up for a moment so that Wilbur could remove his jeans. He shivered as his bare skin met the cool air of your room, then frowned as you got off of him. “We should get you ready,” you said. He nodded, finally removing his boxers.

He let them fall to the side of the bed, leaving him completely exposed. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, but you didn’t seem to be judging him for it. In fact, you were focused instead on putting lube on your fingers, occasionally glancing at Wilbur. He shivered, parted his legs without you asking. He laid there for a moment, staring at your ceiling, trying to calm himself. He only had a moment before you were back, settled down beside him. “You ready?” he heard you ask. He could only nod in response. 

He felt a finger press inside of him, and he sighed. His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he let himself revel in the feeling. For once, he had someone else’s fingers, someone else’s touch. Of course, only one finger wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a perfect start. He moaned quietly as you moved your finger in and out, slowly, almost teasingly. He spread his legs further for you, and you scooted closer. At one point, your finger curled just enough that it brushed against his prostate, and the moan that he let out was downright desperate. He clasped his hand over his mouth, only for you to move it away. “Where’s the fun in that?” you murmured. He couldn’t even process your words before you brushed his prostate again, and he nearly moaned even louder.

“More?” he questioned. “Please?” 

“Since you asked so nicely…” You slid in another finger and he whined. It was then that a thought occurred to him.

When he used his own fingers or his own toys, he never properly prepped himself. Not ever. It always hurt a little bit, since for him, he was always doing it just for the camera. It made him realize how much he neglected himself when it came to his job, never truly considering his own boundaries or what felt good to him. And yet, here you were, and it didn’t hurt with you at all. Even though this was just for work, just for content, you were being more considerate and gentle with him than he was with himself. He made a mental note to thank you later.

In the meantime, your fingers curled against his prostate, and he let himself moan and whine, gripping at the sheets and breathing heavily. He let his mind go empty, let himself fully relax, let himself be yours even if only for a moment in time. He felt it as you switched between brushing against his prostate and prepping his hole, gently stretching your fingers to spread him a little wider each time. “This feel okay?” you asked. 

Wilbur nodded, unable to speak properly. You continued your movements, and Wilbur continued his moans. Your fingers were gone all too soon. Wilbur gasped a few times and forced his hazy vision to focus. “All good?” he asked, a little concerned. He watched as you wiped your hand off with a wet wipe before tossing the wipe in a bedside trash can.

“All good,” you replied. “You feeling ready? I grabbed a plug just in case you wanted to use that for more prep, but if you’re feeling good, I say we go for it.”

“I’m good to just go for it,” Wilbur said. To his surprise, his voice was a lot more steady than it had been. Something about your presence was calming, even in a situation like this that Wilbur had no experience with. He watched as you got the harness ready and strapped it on. Okay, maybe the dildo was a little bigger than he’d originally thought, but he would be fine. He hoped. “Thank you for, um, helping me get ready.”

“Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said. You finished putting on the harness before coating the strap in more lube than was probably necessary, just for good measure. “The nice thing about not working for some big porn company is that we get to do things in our own time. We’re not rushing to fit some director’s schedule.” 

Wilbur nodded. “Right.” He’d heard varying things about being in professional pornos from various people in the industry. Experiences ranged from incredibly negative to incredibly positive, depending on the company, the director and any number of other factors. Wilbur was grateful to be making enough money on his own to make this venture worth his while. It was nice not having to risk mistreatment. “Still. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as you pressed “record” on each of the cameras. You turned back to him, your expression focused, methodical. “Ready?”

Wilbur nodded. “Ready. Um…safeword?” He definitely didn’t plan on using it, but it was always better to be safe.

“Is the stoplight system good with you?” Wilbur nodded. He’d never used it, but he knew what it was. “Perfect,” you replied. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” You smirked, and Wilbur grinned back. All the nerves were gone, replaced with excitement and focus. The cameras were rolling. Time to put on a show.

Wilbur wiggled his hips slightly, getting comfortable as well as a bit closer to you. He glanced at one of the cameras and shifted a little so that it would catch his facial expressions better. His eyes quickly went back to you. He felt your hands on his thighs. “You gonna be good for me?” you asked, your voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He figured it was just for the cameras.

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said, slightly exaggerating the tremble in his voice. From the look in your eyes, you approved. “I-I’ll be good for you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” 

“Yeah?” Your hands ran up and down his thighs, causing him to tremble and shiver. “Then be a good boy, and tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” he said. He realized then that he was being too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but thankfully, you saved the scene.

“A little louder, sweetheart. I couldn’t hear you.” 

“Fuck me,” Wilbur said, a little louder. “Please.” Despite the fact that it was just an act, he knew that the way you called him sweetheart would be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come, if not months. His obsession was certainly deep enough for that.

“Good boy.” He felt the tip of the strap press into him, and he gasped. “Aw, already too much?” You asked teasingly.

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not—-not enough. Need more. Please…” He tried to scoot closer to you, to get more, but you shook your head.

“You only get what I give you. Understood?” He nodded. “Good boy.” You continued pressing the strap into him, painfully slow, giving him a chance to adjust to the size of it.

He whined, trying not to arch his back or move too much. Instead, his hands gripped at the sheets. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, right in the view of the camera to show off his face contorted with pleasure. His viewers always liked that; he figured that yours might as well. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “You’re so…so big…”

“Too much for you? Or are you gonna be good and take it?” You pushed the rest of the way in, and despite feeling fuller than he’d ever felt, not an ounce of pain came with it. Wilbur was grateful for that.

“I can be good,” Wilbur promised. “I can take it. I swear I can be good and take it.” He whined as you shifted your hips a little, and his hands went to grasp at your back. “Please. Please start moving. I need—-I need you.” Not even Wilbur could tell at this point where the genuinity ended and the act began. 

You grinned. “You’ve been good so far. I feel like you’ve earned a reward.” You started shifting your hips, slow but deep thrusts that had him reeling. You weren’t quite getting his prostate, and he suspected that it was on purpose, you wanting to draw this out longer for the cameras. 

Wilbur tilted his head back slightly. His eyes fell half-closed, and he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He let his lips remain parted. He suppressed his moans, opting instead for gasps and grunts. It would make better content, he figured, if he could start small and build up to it. It was taking a lot of effort to hold back.

“More?” he asked meekly, trying to make his voice loud enough for the cameras, yet quiet enough to keep up the submissive appearance. Although, he supposed it was more than an appearance. With some time, practice and confidence, maybe he’d be able to play a different role. For now, this is what it was. His body trembled slightly with the nerves and the sensations. 

“Hm? What was that?” Your movements slowed down a little, much to Wilbur’s dismay. “Did you just ask something of me without saying please?” You leaned down, your face hovering inches from his. “You remember when I told you that you only get what I give you, right?”

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” He sighed as you ruffled his hair, his brown eyes wide and gazing up at you full of desperation. “I promise.”

“Then say please,” you replied. “You can say please, can’t you, baby?” 

Wilbur nods, a sharp, jerky movement. “C-can I please have more?” he asks. 

“More what?” you asked innocently. Your hips continued rocking back and forth, so languidly that it was frustrating. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

“I-I want it harder,” Wilbur replied. “F-faster. Please? Please, I need it.” With every passing moment, Wilbur became less and less aware of the cameras picking up his every move. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that this wasn’t all an act. It was a dangerous game, pretending that way, but as time passed, he cared less and less. 

“I guess I can give you what you want,” you said nonchalantly. “If you promise to be good.” Your movements picked up speed, hips thrusting slightly faster but just as shallowly. You weren’t thrusting all the way to the hilt, but Wilbur did his best to be patient despite wanting it desperately. 

“I promise,” he panted out. “Please. I’ll be good.” 

“Good boy,” you cooed. Wilbur felt a shiver go down his spine, and his shivers immediately turned to gasps as your thrusts got harder, faster, more forceful. He tried to tilt his hips a little, make you brush against his prostate, but you refused to comply, still avoiding the spot entirely. He let out a whine, high-pitched and needy. It was almost embarrassing, but based on the way you only smirked wider and picked up the pace, it was clear that you weren’t about to judge him for it.

Wilbur let himself get a little louder. He was tempted to cup your face, to run his fingers gently along your sides. He almost did before remembering that this wasn’t real. You didn’t love him. This was just sex. His second time ever, with someone he’d been crushing on obsessively, and none of it was even real. Despite how good he felt physically, he started to feel like shit mentally. The thoughts combined with your movements caused him to tear up a little bit, much to his embarrassment. He felt his eyes burn a little, and he glanced away from your face, trying to hide it.

It was no use. You saw. “Color?” you asked softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up properly. Your eyes held a somewhat concerned expression. Immediately, Wilbur felt bad for upsetting you. 

“Green,” he replied easily. “I’m okay. Promise.” He even managed a small smile. 

You nodded, the worry slowly melting from your face. He moaned as your movements picked up speed again, and then whined as you finally, finally, hit his prostate. His moans got increasingly loud as you continued hitting that spot with every thrust of your hips, burying yourself inside of him to the hilt of your strap. He looked down between his legs as best he could, watching you move in and out of him. He could only look for a moment before having to tilt his head back and whine once again.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “So desperate for my cock, huh?” 

“Y-yes.” Wilbur gripped the sheets with one hand and your shoulder with the other. “Please, please, please don’t stop.” His voice came out sounding whiny and pathetic, wobbling with every word. 

“You’re doing so good,” you replied. “Taking me so well.” Wilbur moaned once more as you gripped his hips, using the hold as leverage to help you thrust harder. 

He could feel himself getting close. He noticed how much pre-cum he was leaking, small drops of it dripping down his cock. “S-so close,” he whined. His hand subconsciously went to his length, but you quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not without my permission,” you chided him. He gasped as you continued your movements.

“Please,” he said desperately. “Please, I need…fuck, I need you to touch me. Please.” 

You grinned and wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly pumping him up and down. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan. After just a few movements of your hand, his hips were twitching. He let out a series of swears and pleas, his words nearly incoherent as he finished, cum coating your hand and his stomach. You murmured soft words of praise, but he could barely register them. 

His vision was hazy as you stopped moving. He gasped for air, panting. He felt numb and overstimulated all at once. His hand that was gripping the sheets slowly loosened its grip, and he let his hand fall from your side. “Thank you,” he murmured. His throat felt scratchy and dry. 

“You were such a good boy,” you said, running a hand down his hip to his thigh. You pulled out, and he gasped at the feeling. You leaned in close to him, your faces inches apart. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?” He nodded eagerly before you pulled away. 

He watched as you turned off the cameras, and he finally let himself relax, laying down fully on the bed. His gaze went from you to the ceiling before he closed his eyes. He needed a break, a few moments to collect himself, to come back to reality. His eyes still burned, and he let a few tears escape down his cheeks. How could something so pleasurable also be so painful? 

He laid there for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears away. He couldn’t get over the thought that this wasn’t enough, that he needed more of you, and he needed it to be real. It was as if all his years of loneliness were catching up to him at once. Every night that he wished someone would hold him, every day that he’d spent pining after people who would never love him back…not to mention the constant self-loathing that came from the small amount of self awareness that he had, the awareness that he was a creep who nobody could ever love. 

Wilbur heard you as you took off the harness before walking over to his side. “You alright?” you asked. Your voice was soft, concerned. “Was I too rough with you? Do you want some water, or maybe something to eat?” 

Wilbur opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “Um…water would be good. And no, you weren’t too rough with me.” He wiped his tears off his cheeks and managed a smile. “You were a lot less rough with me than I am with myself, honestly.”

You grinned back at him. “Okay, I’ll get you some water. If you want to clean yourself up, the bathroom is to the right of the entrance to my room. There are washcloths in the drawer under the sink.”

“Thanks,” he said. Some warm water to help wipe the sweat off him sounded almost magical. “I’ll go do that.” He slowly got off the bed, feeling a little shaky. Your kindness and the sweet sound of your voice had taken away some of his pain, but the loneliness lingered in his mind like an ever-present itch that he couldn’t reach the source of.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you called after him. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. 

He used the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and was about to head back to your room when something caught his eye. You had a laundry hamper in the bathroom, and on top of the pile of laundry, nearly blended in with the surrounding fabric, was a pair of black underwear.

He immediately beat himself up for even thinking about taking it…but god, it was tempting. He would have something of you always, something you’d touched. More than just touched. He could keep it in his room, with his things, a little souvenir. 

The only other souvenir he’d ever kept was from the girl he was obsessed with in high school. She had once torn out a page of notes and dropped them in the trash can, and he had fished it out and kept it. Of course, he’d thrown it out after she’d called him out for being a creep. 

Never had he had something like this. But he quickly realized that, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t take it. He was naked, so it wasn’t like there was a pocket to hide it in. 

He pushed away the disappointment and left the bathroom. It was better this way, better that he not have the opportunity to do what he wanted. Despite knowing that it was for the best, he couldn’t help but feel upset by it. 

He re-entered your room, where you were sitting on the bed. You’d changed out the duvet, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand for him. You were dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he felt more exposed than ever. You turned when you heard him enter, and immediately, he was given a smile. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded and smiled back. “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around and saw his clothing on the floor. “I’m just gonna…”

Your eyes flitted to the pile of his clothes. “Right. Good idea.” You then glanced at the dresser in the corner of your room. “Hold on, I have something you can wear instead of that uncomfortable button-up you were wearing.”

Wilbur was about to protest and say that the button-up was fine (despite the fact that it was cheap and a little itchy in reality), but he quickly shut his mouth and worked on getting his jeans and boxers on. If you had something for him to wear, something that was yours, that would be a dream come true. He watched you as you shuffled through a drawer. 

“Here it is,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. He saw as you picked up a t-shirt, one that was definitely too big for you. “I have this extra shirt. I accidentally ordered a few sizes too big, so you can have it if you want.” You tossed it over to Wilbur, and he caught it.

It was a band t-shirt. Wilbur recognized the band as one of your favorites. “Are you sure?” he asked. The material was soft in his hands, and Wilbur swore that it smelled like you. 

“Yeah, I’m never going to wear it. It’s yours.” 

Wilbur held it like it was precious. He examined it before sliding it on. It fit him well, not too loose but not too tight. He looked over at you and immediately noticed that you were looking right back at him. “It fits really well,” Wilbur said. “Thank you. This is much better than my other shirt.”

“No kidding,” you replied. “That thing felt like it was awful to wear.” You paused. “Plus, you look good in it.” 

Wilbur could hardly believe it. You had complimented his appearance twice. In one day. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I, um, appreciate it.” He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and sat down in order to steady himself. He took a sip, immediately feeling refreshed. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.

“Anytime.” You sat beside him on the bed. “Can I…ask you something serious?”

Wilbur put down the glass and turned his full attention to you. He saw the slight concern in your expression, and his small smile quickly faded. “Sure. What’s up?”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him. “Are you okay? I know that you said you were alright, but you seem a little shaken up still. I’m just a bit worried.”

He sighed, trying to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he could be honest. At least, a little bit honest. You didn’t need to know the full truth. On the other hand, he could insist that he was fine. He worked through the options in his mind, and settled on a half-truth.

“I, uh, have never been pegged before,” he said. “This was my first time. I think I just got a little overwhelmed is all.” He paused, and when he saw your expression grow more concerned, quickly added, “But I’m fine! Really, you were great. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it was a good first time. A great first time.” He could feel his cheeks get slightly hot, but he did his best to stay relaxed.

You looked surprised, your eyes slightly wide. “You…you got pegged for the first time, just now, on camera?” You shook your head, a barely noticeable movement. “That’s…brave. I’ve never done something for the first time on camera.”

“Yeah…yeah, I probably should’ve prepared beforehand,” Wilbur said. “But I just figured…it’s not like I’ve never done anything anal on my own. I figured it would be fine, and it was.”

“But you looked upset,” you said.

“Just overwhelmed,” Wilbur replied. “I promise it’s okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was deter you by making you feel bad. Besides, it really wasn’t your fault. 

“Wilbur…” You looked away, pausing as if considering what to say. “Allison showed me a short clip the other day of that video you two filmed, and…and I don’t know if it was just an act, but I got the feeling that you were very new to what you were doing.” You looked back at him, and he felt the intense desire to disappear, to change the subject, because how could he admit how little experience he had without being intensely embarrassed? “Was that…did you ever have sex before that?”

Once again, Wilbur had the choice between honesty or a lie. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he wanted to try for more with you—more than just friendship, and definitely more than business partners. The terrifying thing was this: if he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he would have to be honest with you at some point.

“...No,” Wilbur said, barely audible. He avoided eye contact. “I was, um, too nervous to tell her that it was my first time. I wanted to do a collab, so I just didn’t say anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself. “I…maybe I was wrong to do that. I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just didn’t want to wait around for things to happen for real, because I need the money now, not later, and…and it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen anytime soon, so…” He shrugged, hoping that the explanation was enough.

“And…and was it good?” you asked. “Like, was it a good first time for you? Did you enjoy it?”

Wilbur thought back to it. Allison was nice, sure. She was amenable, very understanding when it came to the fact that Wilbur was new in the industry. And yeah, Wilbur had finished that first time with her, but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t enjoyable, being with somebody he had no connection with. It wasn’t enjoyable knowing that this incredibly vulnerable moment of his life was being livestreamed in real time, and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable that his first time was done for profit rather than for the experience, for the fun.

“I mean, does anyone enjoy their first times?” Wilbur managed to dodge the question, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours.

“Yeah! Well…I don’t know. They’re generally not good in the sense of being physically pleasurable, but they don’t have to be awful,” you said. “I just…I can’t imagine doing that in front of a camera, streamed live like that. And it sounds to me like you did it because you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Wilbur finally looked up at you, scared of a reprimand, scared of your judgment. But all he saw in your expression was worry and kindness. “I…I’ve just never really had the opportunity,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I kissed a girl, like, once in high school, but that was it. And then not again until Allison. I just wanted to get it over with, to feel…I don’t know. Normal, I guess. Desirable. Like…like someone wanted me.”

The second the words came out, Wilbur was mortified. He’d never told anyone any of this, and the fact that he’d told you of all people, the second time he’d ever spoken to you in person, made him wish he could turn back time and erase this entire conversation. 

He felt you gently take his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said, “that things didn’t turn out the way you would have liked.”

Wilbur looked down at his hand, gently wrapped in yours, and he gave it a small squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t awful.”

“Still,” you said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck.” He watched as you let go of his hand, hiding his disappointment. “Anyway, um…I’m sorry to unload all that on you,” he said, his self awareness returning to him.

“It’s fine, Wil. We’re friends, and I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn’t prepared for a response,” you said. “Really, it’s okay.” 

He could hear the softness in your voice, the hint of concern. It nearly made him cry again, just knowing that somebody cared about him at all. “Thank you,” he said. “I…I really appreciate it.” The words felt so tame in comparison to what he wanted to say, but all the words he could think of seemed too much. He couldn’t believe that you’d referred to him as a friend, that you wanted to continue associating with him. It seemed too good to be true.

One thing was certain: it would take a lot of willpower to make this obsession go away, and Wilbur wasn’t sure he had it in him to let you go. 

To Wilbur’s absolute delight, his time with you didn’t end there. After filming, he stayed for dinner. He ate pizza with you on your couch, watching a cheesy 80s movie and making fun of the special effects. Admittedly, he watched you far more than he watched the film, and he felt shivers every time you looked his way.

Over the course of the next week, he messaged you every day. Sometimes, it was because he messaged first, and other times, you were the one to reach out. He forced himself to exercise some restraint, to not be too eager. You made it difficult. Many of the texts were about the video, you giving Wilbur updates on the editing progress. At the end of the week, it went live. Wilbur was notified by your message:

Done! Let’s see how this goes

Wilbur grinned, swallowing back all the anxiety that he felt. What if it was bad? What if people didn’t like it? What if his inexperience showed on camera? 

He shoved it all down and sent a reply.

Sweet

After a moment, he was struck both by how boring his last message was and how great of an opportunity this presented him with. 

Want to celebrate tonight? Drinks on me?

He waited anxiously for a reply. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no response, until finally, your name appeared on his screen. 

How about that bar a block from my place? You know the one?

Wilbur did, in fact, know the one. He’d passed it on the drive to your apartment. 

I know it. Send the address and I’ll be there

Eight?

He smiled.

Eight sounds perfect :)

Once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He left early to make sure that he was there in time and that you wouldn’t be stuck waiting for him. The cab ride to the bar felt like it took a million years, and when he got there, you were sitting at the bar waiting for him.

The bar was packed. There was music blasting over the speakers, some pop song that Wilbur couldn’t place, though he’d heard it over the radio a million times. He sat beside you at the bar. “Hey!” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. 

You greeted him with equal enthusiasm. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” he said, grinning. He could already feel his cheeks get warm, although whether it was from the crowded bar or his proximity to you, he couldn’t tell. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only about five minutes,” you replied. “But I got here early. Still waiting for the bartender.”

“Perfect.” Wilbur glanced at his surroundings. The scene reminded him of when he’d first met you. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a month. “Is the video doing well?” It was too early to draw many conclusions, of course, but he was curious.

“Holy shit, you have no idea,” you said, grinning. “People love the video. Already, I’m getting messages asking for more of it.” You seemed proud of yourself, and Wilbur couldn’t blame you. You’d done most of the work, after all. 

He could feel his heart pounding. People loved it, which meant that you would probably want to do it again. More time spent with you, more excuses to see you…it all sounded perfect. “So when is part two?” Wilbur asks. “If people love it, I mean…we should probably get to filming more material, right?”

Your smile faltered, and his heart immediately sank. Of course. Of course it was all too good to be true, too perfect to be real. He should have known better. When you finally spoke, Wilbur was already bracing himself for rejection. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said. Before Wilbur could say anything, you continued. “Not because I don’t like you, okay? I…I won’t lie, it was fun. I’m just…”

“You can be honest,” Wilbur said, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the sounds of chatter and music. “If you don’t like me and don’t want to do it again, that’s okay. I get it.” He knew that he sounded pathetic and self-deprecating, but he had no clue what else to say. 

“Wil, I just said that it wasn’t because I don’t like you,” you said. “Please take my word for it.” Wilbur nodded, slightly embarrassed. “The reason I don’t want to film more is because I’m a little worried about you.”

Oh. In a way, that was a relief to hear. It meant that you didn’t dislike him. On the other hand, he was terrified. Did you see him as pathetic? He wouldn’t blame you, but it was still a blow to his ego. “...Why?” he finally asked.

“I just…” You sighed. “You were literally crying, Wil. It was concerning. And I’m not saying that you did anything wrong, because you didn’t, I just think that…” You laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding insensitive.”

Wilbur froze. You were going to call him a creep, pathetic, a loser. He just knew it. “Just say it,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have some things to sort out,” you said finally. “This type of job can ruin you if you don’t have the self-esteem to handle it. I’ve seen it before. People go into it feeling like shit about themselves, and then all the validation they get is purely sexual, and it fucks with them when they don’t get that validation anymore. It can be hard to separate your sense of self from your sex appeal, you know? But you have to.”

Wilbur took a deep breath. That was somehow worse than anything he’d anticipated you saying. He wasn’t a creep in your eyes, maybe, but he was broken. He had low self-esteem. You saw him as something to be pitied, and that was a hard pill to swallow. He kept opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He finally gave up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

You went quiet. It was only until the bartender showed up that you spoke again, ordering some drink that Wilbur couldn’t make out the name of due to being lost in his own thoughts. When you asked him what he wanted, he replied with water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore. 

After the bartender left, Wilbur felt your eyes on him. “Yeah?” he questioned. “What?”

“Did you actually listen to what I said?”

“What? Yeah, of course I did.” 

“Wilbur…”

“I get it,” Wilbur said quickly. “I know that I’m…that I’ve based my whole life around this, and I know that it’s concerning, and I get it. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Take a break,” you suggested.

“I need the money.”

“Okay, well, go back to solo content for a bit. Because I think you need a moment to think things through.”

It didn’t sound so bad, actually, going back to doing things alone for a while. As long as he still had you in some capacity, maybe it would turn out okay. “Alright,” he said. “I could do that.”

“Good.” You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink before turning back to Wilbur. “I think it would be good for you.” 

“Probably,” he admitted. He sipped his water, trying to enjoy your presence despite the war of emotions he had going on. It took him a moment for him to ask the question that he wanted to ask. “...Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I just think you need some time off.”

He accepted the answer, but there was one more thing he needed to ask. “I’m sorry if this is…weird,” he said carefully. “But I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime. Like, a proper date, not…”

“An amateur porn filming session?” 

“Right. That.” Wilbur felt his hands trembling. “Um…we could go out to dinner sometime. Wherever you want.” He felt dizzy, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding way too fast. “If you want to.”

You took an agonizingly slow sip of your drink. “I’d like that,” you said finally. You smiled at him, and it was like everything falling into place. Wilbur could breathe. You hadn’t rejected him. 

And soon enough, he would have you, one way or another.

[hughiecampbelle]

Nausea (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,349

A/N: This is a re-upload bc the first time I posted it I got self-conscious and deleted it lol. It's just not my best writing, but I feel like I have to get it out. Just me writing about my issues again! I still have no idea what's going on, but all the same diagnoses come back from the first time (uc/crohn's/celiac/gastroparesis) and it's so infuriating. My doctors don't know what's wrong and my family, who I love, just think it's nerves. I don't think my very graphic symptoms are nerves 😅 I have so many remedies by my bed, it looks crazy. I haven't slept well in a few days bc of the pain, but I'm also so afraid of not being believed again, it's a vicious loop. Okay I swear I'm done complaining! Thank you for putting up with me!!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

He knows when it’s happening. There is no great show or performance. There is no crying or whimpering. No one else would even notice, but he knows the signs. Albeit too late, but he does. You’re quieter, withdrawn, hand over mouth, hoping this will stop the nausea. Deep, even breaths: breathing through it. When that is not enough, when that stops working, you slip quietly out of the room and into the bathroom. He tries not to notice how long you’re gone. Mere minutes. It feels so much longer. Someone snatches his attention from you and suddenly, you’re back. You reappear as if you were never gone. You offer a smile, a joke or two, a sense of normalcy, but beneath you’re stomach is churning, clenching, radiating pain through your middle. You only let him tell a few people, who you’re sure told everyone else. Still, none react besides him. He doesn’t say anything, to do so would draw attention. That’s the last thing you want. Instead, he moves towards you, casually, standing beside you. Close. You can feel his jacket on your arm. Worn and scratchy. Familiar. He looks at you and you offer him a small, insignificant nod. That’s as far as he’ll get to asking if you’re okay. That’s as far as you’ll let him when you’re working. 

Its been happening on and off for years. Off, for a long time. You thought it was over. Gone. Dead. It’s come back, though, an uninvited guest. This sudden pain, this distress, this mystery no one is curious enough to solve. When they looked, they found nothing. Said you were fine. You were embarrassed, hurt, questioning if it was all in your head. Eventually, you moved on. Things got better. You believed them. And now it’s back. A fullness, nausea, pain, weight loss. You can’t be in the apartment while he’s cooking. The smell repulses you. The taste, too. You can’t eat, afraid you’ll be sick. Again. He urges you, please, something more than your morning coffee, but you cannot handle it. Everything you try you end up spitting out: everything is gluey, everything is profoundly unappetizing. Hiding in the bathroom away from the scent or leaving altogether, it’s put a rift between you. Meals that were safe turned poisonous. Entire food groups cut off unwillingly. It’s been days. Your stomach growls, but that is a trick. You try to ignore it, hide it, knowing what he will insist. He watches you. You can feel it. You don’t say anything. It’s easier this way, not to fight, not to argue. This is a hill you will not die on. He does what he can, pouring your coffee, grateful you at least have that. So far, it doesn’t cause problems and it keeps you full. That’s all you can ask for. 

He wants you to get looked at, checked out. You refuse. You were so sick, so scared, and they told you nothing was wrong. You were constantly doubting if this was even real, then and now. If they didn’t find anything, if they didn’t have the answers, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You can’t be doubted again. You can’t be looked at and deemed dramatic. You knew the pain was real. Why did you have to prove it? Why did you have to show them when they refused to believe you? So, you keep it to yourself, far from friends and family. They congratulated the weight you lost. Said you looked good. Remind them you were petrified to eat. You were smaller and that’s what mattered. It’s worse at night. Lying beside him, you push from him, untangling his arms from around you. A trash bin by your head, waiting for it to pass. If things are bad, really bad, you’ll lock yourself in, on the floor, praying for it to go away. He wakes up to an empty bed night after night. The pain wakes you up. You have nausea patches, and losanges, and a heating pad he is constantly rewarming. If you lay very still, perhaps you can trick it. Play dead. Hours you’ll spend curled in a ball, wondering what it was that you ate that set it off, that made it so angry. Was it the time? The combination? You were down to drinks with minerals and vitamins, hydrating agents to keep you going. Baby food. Liquid diet. You missed food. You missed having an appetite. You missed cooking. But it wasn’t worth it afterwards. Immediately or hours, the nausea, the pain, the discomfort invites itself back into your life. 

Butcher isn't a natural worrier. There isn't a lot that scares him. But this? This leaves him petrified. There is something wrong and no one will listen. You try to shrug it off. It was so much worse all those years ago. It was excruciating. This, if anything, is a walk in the park in comparison. Uncomfortable sure, but that's all. It's not Vought or Homelander, that he can protect you from. That he can stop. Your body working against itself? That he can do nothing about. It isn't fair. It isn't right. And yet, there is nothing to be done. The tests they did were inconclusive. Why risk it again? Why waste your time? You assure him soon it will be gone, a few days, maybe a few weeks. Last time it was six months. You swallow that time like a prison sentence. Six months. You could do it again, if you had to. You could manage. Maybe by then they’d take you seriously. He wanted to yell and scream, at them. Order them around, insist they help, but would that even help? More tests, more waiting. By the time it would be your turn, it would have gone into remission. Loved ones would hypothesize, becoming doctors themselves. Their favorite diagnosis? Nerves. You weren’t anxious, or nervous, or worried. You were wasting away. You were spending your nights trying not to throw up and your days doing anything to prevent discomfort. Even certain clothes, too close, too constricting, were off the table. You couldn’t stand the way they looked at you, everyone but Butcher, wondering if it was physical or mental. He heard you, he saw you, he knew this was all too real. Why couldn’t others? 

You're more tired, exhausted as soon as the sun starts setting. You lose a lot of hours at night, in the early mornings, praying to anyone who will listen that you’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be gone. That you will be fine again. That it really was all in your head. Falling asleep in the car. He tries to avoid bumps in the roads, potholes, not wanting to wake you. Your attention straining: it's always there, in the back of your mind, at the back of your throat. It sits deep in the pit of your stomach and it mocks you. When you finally do complain, just a little, when it's too much, he knows it's really getting bad. He's helpless all over again. The people he's loved, the people he's lost, he can't risk it. Not again. Not with you. There’s little can do, though. There’s little anyone can do. This is not someone he can kill, this is not an organization he can take down. This is chronic, spontaneous, vengeful. It has no rhyme or reason. You let the mask slip every so often. You’re scared. Scared of what they’ll find, scared of what they won’t. He reassures you, whatever it is, you’ll figure it out together. You trust him, you love him, but you can’t do that to him. You can’t be a burden. You body is your own to take care of. So, you throw up in the bathroom, and wear your patches, and make your jokes. You tell him it’s a three, always a three, on a scale from one to ten. You can’t let him worry, he’s got enough on his plate. Yours will remain empty until, hopefully soon, it goes away just as it has appeared.

[icrypop]

"Fatherly Advice"

TMNT 2012 Donatello

2012! Donnie x Fem! Reader

Fluuufffffyyyy

Hiya my lil bookworms, hope everyone is weellllll! I know its taken me a hot minute but my jobs kicking ass right now :') I'm so sorry and I'll try to update more but also give people chances to request!!! ANyway, thought this was cute cuz Splinter from 2012 is like... an awesome father figure and I love Donnie soooo- Here is some fluff!! Also, definitely make sure to check out writer Grem's stuff, they're working hard right now<3

ANYWAY, Requests are 100% open so pleaaaaseee ask away<33

-Writer Icy<3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the serene and dimly lit dojo beneath the bustling streets of New York City, Master Splinter sat in quiet meditation. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting gentle shadows that danced around the room. His keen ears caught the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching.

"Enter," he called, his voice calm and inviting.

A young girl with h/c hair stepped into the dojo, her eyes filled with uncertainty. Y/n had been a friend of the Turtles for some time, often joining them on their adventures. Recently, however, her heart had become overwhelmed with emotions she struggled to understand.

"Master Splinter," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need your advice."

Splinter opened his eyes and looked at her with a kind and knowing gaze. "Sit, my child. Tell me what troubles you."

Y/n took a deep breath and sat cross-legged before the wise old rat. "I... I think I've caught feelings for Donatello," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "But I don't know what to do. I don't want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward between us, especially if he has a crush on April."

Splinter nodded slowly, considering her words. "Love is a powerful and beautiful emotion, Y/n. It is natural to feel uncertain when your heart is involved. Tell me, what is it about Donatello that draws you to him?"

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes lighting up as she thought of Donnie. "He's so intelligent and kind. He's always thinking of others and working so hard to help everyone. He's brave, but he also has this gentle side that... that makes me feel safe and cared for."

Splinter's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Donatello is indeed a remarkable young turtle. Your feelings for him are understandable and sincere."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "But what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or what if it makes things complicated with the team?"

Splinter reached out and gently placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "In matters of the heart, there is always a risk. But love is not something to be feared. It is a gift to be cherished. If you speak honestly and openly with Donatello, you will find your path."

Y/n looked up at Splinter, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Master Splinter. Your words mean a lot to me."

"Remember, Y/n," Splinter continued, "Love requires patience, understanding, and courage. If your feelings are true, they will find their way. And no matter the outcome, your bond with Donatello and the rest of the Turtles will endure."

Y/n nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "I will talk to him. Thank you for the advice sensei."

Splinter smiled warmly. "Go with confidence, my child. Trust in your heart and in Donatello's."

With newfound resolve, Y/n stood and bowed respectfully before leaving the dojo. As she made her way to the lab where Donatello was undoubtedly working on his latest invention, she felt a renewed sense of hope. Whatever the future held, she knew that Master Splinter's wisdom would guide her through the challenges ahead.

And in the quiet of the dojo, Splinter returned to his meditation, his heart full of pride for his son and the young girl who had bravely sought his counsel.

Donnie's POV~

Donatello adjusted his goggles, his focus completely absorbed by the precision needed to tend to the chemicals in front of him. The hum of machinery and the faint scent of chemicals filled the air, creating a familiar and comforting backdrop to his work. He was in his element, surrounded by the tools and gadgets that defined his world.

"Hey, Donnie," a voice called out, pulling him from his concentration.

He looked up, a smile spreading across his face as he saw Y/n standing at the entrance of his lab. Her presence was always a welcome distraction, though he could tell something was different this time. There was a nervousness in her eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Y/n! What's up? Need help with something?" he asked, setting his tools aside.

Y/n stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something important."

Donatello's curiosity piqued, and he gave her his full attention. "Sure, what's on your mind?" He asked, raising his goggles.

Y/n took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly. "Donnie, we've been through a lot together, and I really value our friendship. But lately, I've been feeling something more. I think… I know...Okay...I have feelings for you Donnie."

Donatello's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing to process her words. "Y/n, I… I don't know what to say."

Before he could find the right words, a loud hissing sound filled the lab. Donnie's eyes darted to a beaker on his workbench, which was boiling over and fizzing violently.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, rushing to grab a towel.

Before he could reach it, the top of the beaker exploded with a small, harmless pop, sending a shower of foam and liquid across the lab. Donatello and Y/n were both splattered with the pink fizzing mixture.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, Y/n burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Donatello couldn't help but join in, his own laughter filling the lab.

"Well, that was unexpected," Y/n said, wiping foam from her face.

Donnie grinned, shaking his head. "I guess I got a little distracted. Thankfully, the mixture wasn't harmful."

They both laughed again, the tension of the moment melting away. Donatello reached out and wiped a bit of foam from Y/n's cheek, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary.

"You know, Y/n," he said softly, "even with exploding beakers, this has been one of the best moments of my life."

Y/n's heart swelled with warmth, and she leaned into his soft touch. "Mine too, Donnie."

Donatello took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers with a newfound determination. "Y/n, I need you to know something. I've had feelings for you too, for a long time. I was always afraid to say anything because I didn't want to risk our friendship. But now, I don't want to hide it anymore. I care about you so much and I do reciprocate those feelings."

Leah's eyes widened in surprise and joy. "Really? What about April?"

Donatello nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, Y/n. I got over April. Look, You're amazing, and I want to be with you...I-If you'll be my girlfriend, that is..."

They stood there for a moment, Donnie reaching slowly to hold her hand gently. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their shared happiness.

In that moment she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close foe a hug. he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, stiffly before relaxing slowly. It was quiet a promise of many more moments to come, filled with love, laughter, and the bond that had brought them together.

As they cleaned up the lab side by side, their hearts were light, knowing that they had taken the first step on a new and exciting journey together. Donatello couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that Leah felt the same way. And with her by his side, he knew that their adventures would be even more special.

Little did the duo know, Splinter was just outside, listening to the whole exchange with a proud smile on his face, "That's my son." he nodded and made his way back to the dojo to continue his meditation.