#and i’m still not sure if anyone would even want to see it

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 02, 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

rosie’s note: hi :), sooo don’t yell at me y’all know i’m sensitive, but yes apologies this was supposed to come out wayyy sooner but i’ve had a lot going on with my personal life i barely had time to write but luckily i finished this up! ik almost people were confused on the cliffhanger so i hope i explained it well in this chapter :) happy reading lovelies 💌

pairing: Paige x Azzi

themes: hurt/comfort, guilt, angst

enjoy!!!

march 21, 2014

The cursor blinked at me, expectant. Judging.

Her name sat on the tip of my tongue. Not the one she introduced herself with, not the nickname she had tossed at me under the swing set like it was armor. Her real name. The one she’d trusted me with just days before everything shattered.

I hovered over the keyboard. How many times had I visited this account in the past two months? More than I could count. The anonymity she clung to should have been enough to keep me from connecting the dots. But the username—UnicornPuppy35—was a clue I couldn’t ignore, not after that rainy night, not after the slippers and the shirt that practically screamed it.

Azzi.

The realization should have made me stop, made me put down my phone and walk away. She didn’t know it was me. She didn’t know I was the one lurking, soaking up every word she wrote, piecing together her sadness, her anger, her loneliness. And she couldn’t find out—not like this.

If she did… God, if she ever found out, I wasn’t sure what would happen. She’d hate me more than she already did, and I couldn’t stand to see that look on her face again.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. The memory of her tears still burned, sharp as glass.

flashback ⤑ february 13, 2013

The rain came down hard that night, the kind of downpour that soaked through your skin and left you raw.

I didn’t know why I left the house. Maybe it was the yelling, or maybe it was the silence that followed. Either way, I ended up at the park. The swings creaked under the weight of the wind, and the only other person there was huddled on one, head bowed as rain dripped from her curls and onto her bright pink unicorn shirt.

I almost walked away. She looked like she wanted to be alone, and honestly, so did I. But something stopped me—a tilt of her head, maybe, or the way her shoulders shuddered even as she sat still.

“Hey,” I said, stepping closer. The ground squelched under my shoes.

She looked up, startled. Her eyes, wide and brown, met my baby blues for half a second before darting away. “What do you want?”

I hesitated, shrugging. “Nothing. Just… didn’t think anyone else would be out here.”

Her laugh was bitter, like she didn’t believe me. She didn’t say anything else, just looked back down at her feet, the tips of her sneakers brushing the muddy ground.

I should’ve walked away. Instead, I sat on the swing next to her.

Over the next two weeks, those nights at the park became a ritual. When the lights in our houses went out, we met under the cover of darkness, sharing pieces of ourselves with kind of fully unraveling almost everything.

She told me about the girl at school—the one who dunked her head in the toilet and called her the f-slur. Her voice cracked when she said it, and my chest ached with something I didn’t quite understand.

“She’s just a bitch,” I said, reaching out without thinking. My hand landed on her shoulder, the fabric of her hoodie rough and wet under my palm. “You didn’t deserve that.”

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t look at me either. “It’s not just her,” she muttered. “It’s… everyone.”

The night Azzi told me about the girl at school, something in her broke. Her voice cracked, a sharp edge slicing through the usual monotone she used when talking about her day.

“I didn’t even do anything,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest. Her breath came out in shivers, her curls dripping rainwater down her back. “She just—she said I was looking at her skirt, and the next thing I know, I’m—”

Her voice wavered, and she stopped. She didn’t have to finish. I could picture it: the cold porcelain, the laughter, the humiliation.

“She has to be insecure or something,” I said quickly, fumbling for the right words. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Azzi. She’s just taking her misery out on you.”

Azzi didn’t look convinced. Her lip trembled, and she pressed her face into her knees, hiding the tears I knew were falling.

I sat there, helpless. I wasn’t good at this—comforting people, saying the right thing. But I didn’t want her to feel alone.

“You wanna egg her house?” I joked, my voice soft. “Or, I don’t know, slash her parents tires?”

She huffed a wet laugh, the sound muffled by her hoodie. “She’d probably call the cops.”

“She’s a snitch, too?” I gasped dramatically, hoping to coax another laugh out of her. “That’s it. We’re definitely egging her house.”

Azzi peeked up at me, her eyes red and puffy but lighter somehow. “You’re stupid,” she said, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face.

——-

A few nights later, that’s when things fell apart.

I was at the park first, waiting for Azzi, when a group of girls from my neighborhood showed up. I didn’t know them well, but they were loud and funny in that kind of way that made you want to laugh along just to fit in.

We were sitting on the picnic table, their chatter filling the silence, when one of them asked, “Hey, Paige, why do you always hang out with that girl?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Who?”

“You know, that Azzi girl,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Nobody hangs out with her.”

My stomach twisted. “Why not?”

The girl snorted. “Her mom’s, like, weird. Always with a new boyfriend or whatever. It’s embarrassing. She’s just a weirdo and looks weird.”

My jaw tightened. Before I could respond, another girl chimed in, laughing. “And her hair! It’s like, doesn’t she know what a brush is?”

The table erupted in laughter, but I couldn’t bring myself to join in. I glanced at the path leading to the swings, my heart sinking.

“Paige,” a voice said behind me.

I froze.

Azzi stood there, her face pale and her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she shook her head, stepping back as if I’d physically struck her.

“Azzi, wait—” I started, scrambling off the table, but she was already turning away.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Just… don’t.”

I ran after her, catching her arm as she reached the edge of the park. “Azzi, I wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what?” she snapped, whirling around. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her voice rising in anger. “Wasn’t laughing at me? Wasn’t sitting there while they trashed me?”

“I didn’t say anything!” I protested, my chest tight.

“That’s the problem!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “You just sat there, Paige. You didn’t even try to stop them, you let them say those things.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat.

“Forget it,” she muttered, yanking her arm free. She wiped at her face angrily, her curls sticking to her cheeks. “I should’ve known better.”

“Azzi, come on,” I pleaded, my voice softer now. “It’s not like that—”

“What’s it like, then?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear. I just don’t understand after all those nights I cried to you P.. how could you?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. By the time I found the words, she was already gone.

present day 2014

It’s been weeks since Azzi and I started talking online, just the two of us, anonymously. We’ve gotten comfortable—well, as comfortable as we can with the fake names and hidden identities. I try not to think about the lies I’m keeping from her, but I know deep down it’s the only way I can stay connected to her. She has to trust me, or she’ll leave. And I can’t handle that. Not again.

It’s the last day of school, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement as I head to the bus. I can’t wait to get home, and send Azzi a message—anything really. I don’t care if it’s about her puppy or the weather or something ridiculous. I just want to talk to her.

I find a seat on the bus and pull out my phone. As the bus rumbles on, I open up Blogspot. I scroll through the messages Azzi and I exchanged earlier, just before school started. I can’t help but laugh at the part where she told me her dog, Stewie, peed in her shoe. That image—her tiny, brown wiener dog peeing in her brand new sneakers—was so perfectly her. Her humor, her frustration, her charm.

I giggle, but then it hits me. The guilt. It crashes over me, sudden and sharp, like a wave I didn’t see coming. My thumb freezes over the screen, hovering over the keyboard. I look at the conversation, at the funny banter we shared this morning, and my chest tightens. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.

If she knew who I really was, if she knew the truth about why I was pretending to be someone else… she would never look at me the same way again. She’d leave me. She would never trust me again.

I feel the tightness in my chest grow, and I look out the window, trying to distract myself. But it’s no use. The guilt is like a weight on my shoulders, pressing down harder the longer I sit with it. Every word I’ve typed to Azzi, every moment I’ve shared with her—it’s all a lie. And I hate myself for it.

But I can’t stop. I can’t let her go again. It pained me the first time…it won’t happen again.

I stare at the phone in my hand, biting my lip. What if she finds out? What if she figures it out before I can come clean?

What if? What if? What if?

The thought is too much. I set the phone down on my lap, staring out the window, hoping the weight in my chest will ease.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrates in my lap. A new message.

unicornpuppy35: p, i just got home and stewie’s tryna eat my shoelace again. i swear this dog’s scheming.

I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. My thumb hovers over the screen again. I want to reply, want to send something funny, something comforting, but all I can think about is how this isn’t real. None of it is real.

boogers_p: obviously. stewie’s prolly like, “shoelaces are phase one. world domination’s next.”

unicornpuppy35: no fr, this little dude really thinks he runs the place.

boogers_p: i mean… does he not? u literally pay rent in shoelaces and snacks.

unicornpuppy35: and socks. don’t forget the socks. he got one of mine this morning smh.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh too loud as I typed back.

boogers_p: rip to the sock. gone but not forgotten.

The typing bubble popped up and disappeared a few times before finally settling on:

unicornpuppy35: ur so ridiculous, p. u know that?

boogers_p: i’ve heard rumors.

I paused, smirking at the screen. Then, a thought hit me, and her fingers flew over the keyboard.

boogers_p: ok, real question. what’s stewie short for? or did u just look at him and go, “yup, that’s a stewie”?

There was a pause before Azzi’s response came through.

unicornpuppy35: named him after breanna stewart.

I blinked at the screen, my smile softening. Of course she did.

boogers_p: oh damn, respect. stewie’s a legend fr but no surprise you chose her.

unicornpuppy35: p, language. and duhh, hence the name.

boogers_p: my bad my bad, but u really said, “lemme name my dog after greatness.” iconic move, puppy.

I knew the nickname would get to her. It always did. The reply came fast.

unicornpuppy35: stop calling me that!!!

boogers_p: nah. it fits too good. also, it’s cute. like u.

Shit. There was a long pause before I saw the typing bubble flicker again.

unicornpuppy35: u really know how to get on my nerves, huh?

boogers_p: talent, tbh.

Azzi’s response came slower this time:

unicornpuppy35: sometimes i wonder why i even talk to u.

Paige snorted, her thumbs moving fast.

boogers_p: cuz i’m funny. and charming. and u lowkey love me. just admit it.

The reply took a moment.

unicornpuppy35: …maybe stewie loves u. that’s as close as ur getting.

I barked out a laugh, the sound drawing a curious glance from the kid across the aisle.

boogers_p: i’ll take it. tell stewie i’m his #1 fan.

unicornpuppy35: he’ll probably steal another shoelace to celebrate.

boogers_p: a king. truly.

I stared at the screen for a second longer, my chest feeling warm and tight in a way I couldn’t even describe.

unicornpuppy35: u good, peanut? u seem kinda off lately.

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard, my mouth forming into a small smile at my nickname. Azzi always asked. I didn’t know how she managed to carry so much and still notice the little things about me. God.

boogers_p: yeah, i’m straight. just tired, you know?

unicornpuppy35: don’t let it get to u p. me and stewie got ur back.

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, her reply coming slower this time.

boogers_p: thanks, puppy. u and stewie the real mvps fr.

Pup- I mean Azzi’s reply was just a string of eye-roll emojis, but I could picture the grin on her face. I wish I could just see it for myself.

boogers_p: love u too.

So much.

I send the message, knowing I can’t keep lying forever. But for now, I’ll hold on.

——-

Paige walked into her room, shutting the door with a quiet click, as if any louder might let her thoughts escape into the world. Tossing her bag into the corner, she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her clothes, leaving a trail toward the bathroom. The hot water scalded her pale skin, but she barely noticed, the familiar ache in her chest louder than the pounding spray.

When she came out, dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her damp hair sticking to her neck, she flopped onto her bed. She should sleep. She needed sleep. But instead, her hand reached for the scrapbook tucked under her nightstand.

Opening it, her heart clenched as she stared at the first photo—Azzi on the swing set, caught mid-laugh, her curls bouncing wildly as she leaned over, her dimple deepening with every giggle. Paige could still hear the sound of it, bright and free, almost as if Azzi were right there in the room with her.

The second photo wasn’t much better. Her and Azzi at the diner for her 15th birthday, Azzi’s arm slung around hers like it belonged there. Paige could almost feel the ghost of Azzi’s touch, the warmth of her hand on her arm, the way Azzi’s voice would soften when she scolded her for cussing too much.

She flipped the page closed before she started crying again. It didn’t help.

Her fingers brush over the closed scrapbook, tracing its edges. She knows it’s pathetic to feel this way, to let herself get so tangled up in someone who probably doesn’t even think about her anymore. It’s dumb, she knows that. But it doesn’t change the way her heart clenches at the thought of Azzi laughing somewhere else, with someone else, as if Paige never mattered.

Because the truth is, she’s never felt this way about anyone before. Not like this. Not about their friendship, or whatever it used to be. Friendship doesn’t even seem like the right word anymore. It feels too small, too simple for something that made her feel whole in a way nothing else ever has.

Will you miss me, Azzi? Paige swallows hard, her jaw tightening as tears blur her vision again. Will you miss what we had? Because I do. I miss you so much it hurts. It fucking hurts.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes closing as the words spilled from her heart. God I think I’d miss you even if we never met.

Paige dragged a hand over her face, trying to will the tears back, but they came anyway, hot and relentless. She clutched the scrapbook tighter to her chest. I miss you. Every day. Every second of every day. I miss you so much it’s pathetic.

She let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sob halfway through. “It’s so dumb,” she muttered, shaking her head. But no matter how many times she said it, it didn’t make it any less true. It’s the realest thing she’s ever felt.

Because no one had ever made her feel like Azzi did. Not before, not since. She wasn’t sure anyone ever would.

She wipes at her face, but the tears won’t stop. Because no matter how much she misses Azzi, Paige knows it’s her fault she’s gone. She clings to the scrapbook, the pictures inside the only pieces of Azzi she has left. And as much as it hurts, she knows she deserves this. Every ache, every tear, every lonely second.

Because she let her go. And that’s something she can never take back.

——-

Azzi sat quietly in the backseat, her hands clammy as she rubbed them over her shorts, trying to calm the nerves that had been with her all morning. Her brothers had hyped her up about making the team, calling her the coach’s “princess,” but it didn’t help. She was still terrified. What if she didn’t make it? What if she wasn’t good enough?

She whispered to Stewie, who was in her lap, his small body a source of comfort. “What if I don’t make the team, huh? I know it’s stupid, but it keeps running through my mind… what if I mess up?”

Her mom glanced back at her from the front seat, a soft smile on her face. “You’ll do fine, Azzi. You always do.”

But Azzi couldn’t shake the unease, the thoughts spinning in her head as the car pulled into the gym parking lot. Her stomach twisted into knots, and her heart raced in anticipation. They arrived early, her mom wanting to meet the coaches first, so Azzi was the first one there.

She stepped out of the car, still trying to calm her breathing. As her mom led her inside, Azzi forced herself to smile and greet the coaches, though her mind was a hundred miles away. She excused herself once the introductions were made, eager to find the locker room and settle in before tryouts started.

The gym was empty when she walked in, the silence amplifying her every step. She meandered down the hall, her fingers grazing the walls as she took in the pictures of past players, their smiles frozen in time. She felt her nerves rise again, the pressure of what was to come weighing on her.

But as she rounded a corner, her body collided with something—or rather, someone.

“Sorry!” Azzi blurted, quickly stepping back. But when she looked up, her breath caught. There, standing in front of her, was Paige. She froze, heart pounding in her chest. Her mind screamed for her to move, to say something, anything, but her body just wouldn’t cooperate.

Paige stood there too, her mouth slightly open in disbelief, her eyes wide. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Then, almost as if the world had shifted, Paige finally spoke her name.

“Azzi?” she whispered.

Azzi’s stomach churned, but she couldn’t stop staring at her. How? How could she be here? How had she found her, of all places? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not here, not now. Not ever.

But Paige was looking at her like she hadn’t missed a beat, like the time apart hadn’t meant anything. Azzi could see the recognition in her eyes, the same as she felt in her chest.

It was instant. Her face was older now, sharper, but it was still her. Those blue eyes. The way she stood. Even the slight tilt of her head when she was unsure of herself. Azzi hadn’t expected it to hit her this hard.

A year ago, she swore she’d move on. Swore that she’d forget what Paige meant to her. But now, standing here, all she felt was the sharp twist of memory and the burn of anger.

How could she not recognize her? Paige had been the first person to make her feel seen, to make her feel like she mattered. But she had also been the first person to hurt her more than anyone else had. Azzi couldn’t forget that. Not the way she laughed with her, not the way she’d come after her with apologies she could never quite believe.

Azzi had convinced herself she was past it. Past Paige. But now, here she was, staring at her as if nothing had changed. It was too much, too fast. Does she really think I’ve forgotten?

Paige stepped forward, her movements tentative, unsure. Azzi almost wanted to take a step back, to run, but she couldn’t move. She stood there, feeling the weight of everything that had happened between them pressing in on her.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice almost hesitant.

Azzi blinked, her heart racing. She forced herself to act like she didn’t know her, even though everything inside her screamed that she did. “Sorry,” Azzi said, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “Do I know you?”

——-

rosie’s note: well..yeah!

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @imaginespazzi @pazzilover101 @makethemhoesmad @pboogerswbb @kmoneymartini @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @ashortyluvsports

[marauder-misprint]

would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers. 

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point. 

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly. 

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward. 

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.” 

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?” 

“More incentive,” Peter retorts. 

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.” 

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name. 

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now. 

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table. 

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you. 

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks. 

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table. 

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is. 

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would. 

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes. 

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face. 

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits. 

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging. 

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable. 

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive. 

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug. 

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together. 

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?” 

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold. 

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside. 

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together. 

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment. 

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus. 

“Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder. 

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile. 

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson. 

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group. 

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends. 

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place. 

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh. 

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke. 

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone. 

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it. 

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet? 

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain. 

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms. 

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning. 

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.” 

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.  

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you. 

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

[planetpedri]

i need need NEED pau cubarsi x reader based on efecto by bad bunny especially the “en tus ojos veo el mar” lyric like GIRL i need this BAD 🙇🏻‍♀️

i love your writing sm ty if you do this 🥰

Efecto — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pau had never felt so strongly about someone before. He was fortunately, in deep for you.

Word count: 490+

Disclaimer/s: Allllll fluff ^_^

A/N: i probably didn’t fully follow this through im so sorry for that i just didn’t know what to write so so sorry anon its lowk badookie…

Every second Pau was around you made him feel like he was on drugs. You were an endless high, an endless euphoria injected into him just by your smile. So simple, but it made the boys knees buckle every time.

There he stood, only a few feet away—watching you interact with his friends, your bright smile lighting up your face. Pau could feel every other noise fall deaf on his ears when your laughter flooded his brain.

Pure adoration was evident on the boys face as he watched. It wasn’t simply adoration, it was love. He was in love with you so much so, it consumed him.

He still remembers the first night he met you. You’d been at a mutual friend’s birthday party and he hadn’t been able to look at anyone but you the whole night. When you finally looked in his direction, offering him the sweetest smile, he would never forget the way his stomach churned and he felt sweat trickle down his forehead. Just by a smile you already had his nerves running rampant.

Even a year later, when you were finally his, the feeling was just as strong, possibly stronger.

His gaze followed you as you excused yourself and turned in his direction. Your lips pulled into a smile the closer you got. “Why are you so emo?” You teased, which drove Pau crazy just seeing the slight smirk on your lips.

“I’m not emo, i’m observing.” He rolls his eyes, amusement clear in his tone.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, Pau does just the same, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips. “Are you enjoying the party?” He asks when his lips part from yours.

You nod slightly, tilting your head up to him. Whatever you were saying, Pau wasn’t picking up on. He found himself lost in your eyes, the colors that swirled and tangled together, disappearing into your dilated pupils.

His favorite feature of yours was certainly your eyes. He could get lost in them for hours. They were like a riptide, and he was not about to fight it—sinking deeper and deeper into the water until he was suffocating within you. And every moment of it, God, he loved it.

“Pau?” You drawl out and he could hear the grin in your voice.

“Mhm?” He hums, not bothering to speak—his eye’s still trained in the depths of yours.

Your arms unlatch from his waist and Pau’s mouth forms a deep frown. “You didn’t hear a thing I said! Do you want to go get food or not?”

Blinking, Pau pulls himself from the daze you’d put him in. “Yeah, sure.” He swallows hard, his hands sliding away from your hips so you could tug him in the direction of the food table.

It was clear to Pau that you were oblivious to the affect you had on him and the only made him love you all the more.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @hrts4havertz @joaoflms @unx100to @n0vazsq @spidybaby

[loverafey]

PIERCE MY HEART ! a rafe x f!reader series.

          ⤿ chapter one : a new girl, a sweet stranger and a horrible roommate — your goal of spending the first day of your college without socialising much anything but successful.

          ꕀ warnings - reader focused and a bit short (we'll get longer chapters trust), reader has paranoia and anxiety, rafe's an asshole to both the reader and sarah. wc - 2.4k. masterlist.

Texting your mother always filled you with an odd sense of guilt. Dread. As if any wrong move will make her go mad with despair, you too. You were barely keeping yourself stable as of now, but taking care of your mother had always been your biggest priority, not taking care of yourself. You felt as if you owed her a lot, a burden you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

People assume running away is a sign of cowardice, an excuse to flee away from the problem. No one ever took their time to think about the sheer strength it took alone to even come up with the decision to run away. Every second felt like a mistake, being hyper alert and looking around constantly. Anything to not catch a glimpse of that man.

For you, running away was harder than anything. Escaping felt like a sin.

You distinctly remember the first day of high school — the heightened nerves, excitement muddled with fear — you’d have assumed that it would be similar. Perhaps you were just more agitated due to the fact that it was an entirely new place, streets and places you weren’t familiar with, people you had never seen before.

A new life — that was your aim when you had applied to this college with your vision all bleary from tears, hands trembling, pain coursing through your body.

No. There was no point in thinking about all that. You had promised yourself and especially your mom after endless working shifts to afford a suitable flat, for your mother could live in, that this would be a new start for both of you. A chance to be happy. You’d never let anyone steal that from you.

Exhaling softly, you stepped into the campus, looking around and seeing people roaming around, mostly talking in groups of people. Fucking great. You felt out of place, clutching your bag tight as you tried your best to mask your confusion and not appear lost, cautiously walking inside.

Orientation, greetings, yada and yada — they passed by quickly and frankly, you wanted them too. Exhaustion from the last couple of days was still clinging to your bones, making you a tad bit cranky and unaware of your surroundings, too absorbed in the next task, not realising that someone was right in front of you until you accidentally bumped into them, hands quick to grab you before you could slip.

“Hey, are you okay?” She spoke, her long blonde hair falling down her shoulders, voice laced with genuine concern. That startled you for some reason, you hadn’t known what you were expecting.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” You replied sheepishly, averting your eyes mostly because you could feel her staring at you, trying to unmask you really. While there was obviously no malicious intent, you couldn’t help but worry.

“It’s totally fine. I’m Sarah!” A smile was quick to bloom on her lips, reminding you of the gentle noises of the water washing up against the shore one would hear on a pleasant day. Now that you think about it, you could comically smell the sea breeze too. You introduced yourself, returning the smile. Something about her was inviting, making it easy for anyone to talk to her. She was natural at this for sure.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Is it that obvious…?”

“Well, everyone’s new here but you look extra lost.” She chuckled lightheartedly. Great, you were totally being a little bit too obvious much to your dismay.

Both of you conversed for a while longer, Sarah insisting on exchanging contacts and you couldn't help but give in. Not only was it nice to have someone to talk to, your contact album was embarrassingly empty after you got rid of everyone’s numbers, which were like four people. Of course you didn't tell her that, you were never planning on telling what you’ve been up to before joining this college to anyone.

Somewhere during this, you had spaced out, thankfully unnoticed by Sarah. You hadn’t intended to, but you couldn’t help but feel an uneasy ache blooming within your heart. You wanted to text your mother again to check if everything was alright, but you knew she would disapprove of you checking on her every five minutes.

“Do you know what your dorm number is?” Sarah asked after a while, both of you walking on the campus, looking around. You nodded, showing her a poorly ripped paper where you had hastily scribbled it. You took note of the way her eyes widened, a gasp leaving her lips. It was nice to see someone so comfortable with expressing themselves, curiously gnawing at you as you tilted your head in confusion.

“What?”

“I know who your roommate is.” Sarah quipped, a big and almost playful grin soon overtaking her earlier calm smile. You couldn’t decipher if she was paying her condolences or genuinely excited for you — maybe both. “It’s my brother.”

Sarah was kind enough to drop you at your dorm despite your multiple attempts at reassuring her that you were perfectly capable of finding your dorm yourself, which you weren’t since you had no idea about the directions in this place, but still. You didn’t want to be some burden on her shoulders that she’d get annoyed of soon enough and drop it.

“See you soon, sweetie! Gonna hang out with you, ‘kay?” An unfamiliar warmth flooded in your heart as you shyly waved at her while she walked away, her figure soon disappearing. Sighing to yourself, you unlocked the door, finding your luggage messily dropped there. Excellent service. You supposed it was nice enough of them for not making you walk around with that heavy luggage of yours for the entire day.

Sighing tiredly, you plopped down onto the bed that seemingly was yours, eyes trailing over to the other side of the room. It was, well, something. Clean and someone had already unpacked everything. You could only pray that this roommate of yours was intent on being this clean for the entirety of the year. It was relaxing at least, the quietness within this room, the cold pillows and sheets. Perhaps you were a little too tired, eyes growing heavier and heavier until you eventually fell asleep, forgetting about all the problems for a while.

You were jolted awake from whatever commotion was taking place outside your dorm, your brows furrowing in confusion, vision still trying to adjust to the surroundings. The sky blue had soon dissolved into bleeding orange hues outside the window, some clouds lingering. You really did sleep a lot it seemed, stretching your arms up, a relieved groan leaving you. Now about the noises.

Reluctantly, you got up and opened the door just a bit too look outside, growing uncomfortable at the sight of some friends laughing around lightly and chugging down whatever it was that they were drinking. A part of you wanted to step up and tell them to stop disrupting your peace, but that thought alone made your stomach ache anxiously. Sighing, you closed the door back again.

A few minutes passed by until the sudden sound of the door opening made you flinch, eyes snapping over to the person who just walked in.

“Stop fucking around, Topper. Y’know my sister’s a bitch.” His voice was a bit slurred, just a little. You most probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for you seeing him drinking around earlier. His eyes were blue, hair short and a neat shade of light brown, combed back beneath his hat. Under the cozy dim lights of the room and the light coming from outside through the parted door where he stood, you could make out the warm flush coating his cheeks, lips slicken, some reddish marks peppered on his neck which were less like bruises and more like hickeys. Who were you even kidding? They are hickeys. His clothes were preppy, and normally you’d have gagged because he just grossly screamed rich, but he seemed attractive enough.

Though none of that really mattered. It soon dawned onto you that he was Sarah’s sister, so comfortably calling her a bitch. Quite the bully of a big brother he seemed to be in your eyes. You silently sat there, looking at him in confusion until he soon turned around to close the door, eyes widening at the sight of you. Was that a flinch?

“What the fuck?”

“Um… I am your new roommate.” You ignored his words, feeling embarrassed enough by even introducing yourself to him. His brows rose a bit, soon remembering that he indeed had a new roommate assigned. His roommates were always changing and frankly, he couldn’t care less. Not his fault that they were incapable of handling him.

“I see….” He trailed off, taking off his cap and tossing it on his bed, slumping down on the mattress as he groaned. “I’m Rafe.”

You hummed, an uneasy silence falling in between you which definitely didn’t affect him, already engrossed on his phone, mumbling silently and incoherently to himself.

“Well, you won’t see much of me. I mostly spend the nights at the frat house.” Ah. So he was one of those guys. You wondered why you hadn’t deduced that earlier, he was like a walking example of what a frat boy was like. Again, you hummed as a response, not really knowing what to say. It was clear that even in this factory, he was different from Sarah. Where conversations flowed easily with her despite it being only your first day, something about him was just so, well, unwelcoming. You giggled softly at the thought without realising it, causing him to glance over at you curiously, eyes squinting.

Strange, you were strange. Even if you were new, you just looked so out of place. Rafe knew a good couple of people to reach that conclusion, not caring if he was getting ahead of himself.

“So… ya new here?”

“Yes.”

“You likin’ this place so far?”

“It’s… decent.”

Short answers and pointless questions, Rafe internally groaned at himself for even trying. He was just so fucking bored, in need of something interesting in his life and new people generally were quite interesting. Perhaps you were the exception.

“Not much fun are you, huh?” He couldn’t help but scoff, slightly annoyed. He tossed his phone aside and sat up on the bed, scrutinising you with his stare alone, as if trying to unravel past the bars you’d build around you. “Y’know we’re roomies now, We should get along.” He added, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips.

“Maybe if you hadn’t called her a bitch.” You blurted out, eyes widening at the slip of your tongue, quickly looking at him. It was easy to decipher who the ‘her’ was, his jaw clenching and brows drawing together. The way his body fidgeted at that made you wonder if he’d say something aloud, if he’d get angry. you weren’t great in reading body languages, but for some reason, you were inquisitive when it came to him.

“Oh, so this is what it’s about. You are my sister’s friend, huh? Well that explains it.” He scoffed bitterly, disappointed as he rubbed the side of his neck, right where those hickeys were, though you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’ at all. Just don’t bother me, ‘kay? I’ve got stuff to do.”

The passive aggressiveness was starting to piss you off, soon wondering if this really was the worst possible roommate one could have. While he seemed to keep the surroundings clean to your liking — for now — his attitude was meant to intimidate you. Setting his control, a line between you both — his class.

Tension hung in the air, your fingers tightly clenching into the hem of your shirt, aching to grab your phone and break out of your frozen state but you couldn’t, eyes fixated on him which stared right back at you. Not particularly a staring contest. It was something else, something that made you want to throw a pillow at him out of frustration. You’d have assumed your first day would pass by calmly, that everything will turn out to be alright. But this fucking-

Rafe clicked his tongue and rolled over, laying down on his bed once again, his back facing you. You let out a breath you hadn’t even realised you were holding in, laying down to grab your phone.

Oh yes, Sarah. You remembered that you’d saved her number. After a few minutes of hesitation and not wanting to disturb her, you gave in.

Something deep within gnawed at you for not telling her about what Rafe was talking about behind her back, but maybe that was a norm for them. You didn’t want to intrude, didn’t want to step foot into unknown territory that’d cause havoc to the peace you’re desperately trying to build up.

No, it was much better to just observe from afar. Plus the thought of hanging out with new people seemed to somewhat excite you. If they are Sarah’s friends, they must be nice too.

Though her words kept playing in your head. He’s trouble. Maybe you really were naive, walking into a trap without even realising it. But you’d always been like, hadn’t you? Even when you were young, even when you were in front of him.

“It’ll be alright…” You whisper to yourself. As long as that man stays away from your mother and you, everything will be alright. After all, that’s what it was for. To be safe.

As you drifted into sleep after a good half an hour of just thinking about everything, Rafe rolled over once again to stare at your back, eyes boring into your sleep form unbeknownst. Blank gaze, really, but something about you just seemed to tick him off, not in a threatening way. He couldn’t pinpoint it, which just heightened his frustrations. It wasn’t necessarily a stare with wrong intent, no. Simple observation, a need to know more about you.

Not that he was interested.

Maybe you were just another sweet bug he could hold in his palm and then squeeze a bit too tight.

[vigilskeep]

Can we hear about the soap opera style second de riva?

oh sure

she’s the human mage daughter of the previous talon de riva and she’s also illario’s arranged married wife

viago killed her dad in order to replace him. she’s not angry abt this, actively. (she doubts anyone who had met her father could be angry about it.) but there IS underlying tension, how could there not be? viago could have killed her too, and instead has in some ways become like a brother to her. but in another world where he hadn’t gotten there first, house de riva might have been hers

illario did not want to marry her, she was picked out for him by caterina, to strengthen their house ties. to illario, it reads like an insult: she’s not a match meant for a future first talon, she was passed over and disinherited in her own house. she’s also a mage, which despite all caterina’s claims of it being a new era under the new divine and house dellamorte moving with the times, he suspects would be used against their branch of the family inheriting anything. he didn’t even want to get married in the first place, because he’s a chronic flirt here for a good time. and nobody is dragging lucanis back from tevinter to make him get married like he’s a pawn you can afford to sacrifice

his dissatisfaction means he continues to be a chronic flirt, with other people, after they’re married. she’s professionally humiliated, which is as good as personally humiliated for a crow; charm and beauty were skillsets of hers, she can’t even win over her own husband when it’s required to maintain the alliance in treviso, and everyone knows it? viago’s furious because it’s an insult to house de riva’s honour, too. (he’s being a protective big brother. which would be nice, if he could express it or indeed if he had acted on some of those instincts before agreeing to her being married off. read the contents of these brackets in teia’s voice.) all this is why she is still referred to as a de riva, because she kind of went back home to soothe tensions but without actually getting a divorce

she was obviously normal and rational about all of this, as she always is, a good, composed, collected crow, who has never lost her cool in training or on contracts or with her own father’s murdered body before her very eyes. she would like to clarify that the above events had no effect on her eventually lashing out at a certain antaam patrol and setting several things both metaphorically and very literally on fire. unrelated.

lucanis, on his return, immediately knows exactly what illario was like about it and is intensely mortified on behalf of his family, because he is a man with Romantic Standards. she thinks this is endearing and restrains herself from playing on his heartstrings about it too often. the deeply obvious thing to do here is have them fall in love for drama, that would be the maximum soap opera move, and to be clear i DO think it’s funny for illario to suddenly decide he does actually want his wife as soon as lucanis wants her, but honestly i just want lucanis to have one decent family relationship and this is how i can make that happen by force of will. and now not only is illario’s own wife siding with lucanis in the power struggle, but lucanis is replacing illario with her! we actually don’t need romance to make this deranged

thus i’m still debating the most amusing option on the veilguard team to sweep illario’s wife off her feet. i would love to see where almost any of them are going with this. emmrich, for example. and davrin with lucanis’ sister-in-law is obviously amazing (though i actually don’t think he’d go for a wealthy married human woman, i think he’s got more sense and/or self respect 😭). ultimately neve absolutely has a noir detective’s prerogative to win over a femme fatale with a rich husband who doesn’t treat her right so she would get dibs

[torturedlexdepartment]

Special Request

JJ Maybank x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, oral (fem receiving), fingering, loss of virginity

Summary: a curious question has JJ offering to give you your first oral experience

“Hey J, can I ask you something?” You were sitting on the edge of his bed sharing a joint.

“Yeah Y/N, what is it?” The second you had his full attention, you almost chickened out.

“Have you ever gone down on a girl?” You met his gaze and he chuckled. You knew it was a stupid question and you already knew the answer but you had to start the conversation somehow.

“Um yeah. Why do you ask?” Your eyes immediately dodged his and darted towards the floor.

“Um no reason.” You started twiddling your thumbs and he could sense your nervousness.

“Oh come on Y/N, I know there’s more to it than that.” He pressed you, just like you counted on him to do.

“I um…just was curious of how that would feel.” When your eyes met his again, you could tell he was surprised. You could feel your cheeks start to flush as you avoided eye contact again.

“No one’s ever eaten you out before? Seriously?” His voice sounded irritated, almost like he was mad.

“You know I’m a virgin JJ.” You said, still avoiding his gaze.

“Well yeah but I figured you had some experience Y/N.” He could tell you were feeling embarrassed and he grabbed your hand, making you turn your attention to him. “It’s not a bad thing Y/N, I just didn’t know.”

“I mean guys have fingered me before but that’s about it and it wasn’t really that great honestly.” There’s that look again.

“Let me.” You weren’t really surprised at him volunteering. You were kind of counting on it at this point. You knew he liked you. He flirted with you shamelessly even though you guys had been just friends for years. You reciprocated every now and again cause you were attracted to him too. He was the hottest guy on the island hands down but you were still nervous.

“Yeah?” You smirked up at him.

“Yeah.” He cupped the side of your face, tilting it upwards so he could lean down and kiss you. You could tell how eager he was by the way he slipped his tongue past your lips and pushed you down flat on the bed, quickly hovering over the top of you. His hands disappeared under the fabric of your tank top and you giggled when he toyed with your belly ring. He smiled at your adorable laugh as he descended down your body. He slid your top up and started leaving gentle kisses all the way down to the hem of your jean shorts. He stopped to look up at you for a second, making sure everything was still okay. You gave him a reassuring nod and you lifted up to help him as he slid the denim down your legs.

You heard him mumble a quick “fuck” to himself at the sight of your red see-through panties. If only he knew you wore them on purpose. He rested in between your thighs and started teasing you by placing sloppy wet kisses on the insides of your sensitive skin. You could feel the excitement and arousal flow through your whole body as your breathing intensified. He had already managed to turn you on more than any other man had with a few subtle touches. He was nearly drooling at the sight of how wet you already were for him through your panties. You wanted him so badly to get on with it already but JJ Maybank was a tease. He was gonna make you squirm before giving you what you really wanted.

He leaned down to kiss your clit through the lacy material and smirked at the way your body reacted to him and how heavy you were breathing. He did that again and then flicked his tongue a couple of times over the sensitive bud and you felt like you were going to explode.

“JJ.” You begged.

“What’s wrong princess? Want something?” You never imagined you’d be at his mercy like this but you needed him so bad that you swallowed your pride.

“Please.” You pleaded with him. If it had been anyone else, he’d happily continue his games. But it was you, and he simply couldn’t resist your neediness. He hooked his fingers in the hemline of your panties and slid them down slowly and threw them carelessly behind him.

“Jesus christ Y/N, so pretty baby.” He ogled at your bare pussy fully on display for him. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled you down closer to him. He dipped his head down to lick a painfully slow stripe down the center of your pussy and your hands fisted the sheets attempting to hold yourself still. He did that a couple more times before wrapping his lips fully around your clit, sucking softly. The sensation had you a whimpering mess on his bed.

It didn't take JJ long to realize that this was his new favorite place in the world, but he couldn't let himself get used to the idea. Cause this was a one-time thing, wasn't it? He started flicking his tongue, tracing his name into your clit like he wanted to own you. The noises falling from your lips were driving him mad, he was so painfully hard he had to stop himself from grinding against the bed for just a little bit of friction. He wanted so badly to slide his fingers deep inside of you, make you fall completely apart but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. So his tongue was gonna have to be good enough for now. And boy, was it. He had you arching your back, nearly seeing stars as that coil inside your abdomen started to wind up. He reached a hand up under your top to grope your tits as he continued lapping hungrily at your pussy. You placed one hand over his and the other slid down to glide through his hair. He moaned against you when you tugged at it gently.

“I’m so close.” You spat out as you continuously bit your lip. You don’t know how he managed to move his tongue against you faster, but he did. Before long, your legs were shaking and you were squeezing his head between your thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit as he sucked on your clit, riding you through your high. Your head flew back completely on the pillow as he licked you clean. You were trying to catch your breath as he left sweet kisses on the insides of your thighs. You leaned up, grabbing for him to pull him in for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when your hand grazed his throbbing cock through his shorts. He didn’t realize it was an intentional touch until you did it again, and again. He pulled away from your lips and you let out a whine.

“Y/N, it’s okay. You don’t have to-”

“Please fuck me JJ.” He had never been cut off by a more perfect series of words. The number of times he had imagined being buried deep inside of you with his cock was shameful and he did everything he could to push those thoughts out of his mind daily. But here you were in front of him, begging for it.

“You want me to be your first?” You nodded eagerly as you pulled at his shirt. He didn’t give it another thought before pulling it over his head then helping you lean up to rid you of your last remaining articles of clothing. More curses fell from his lips at the sight of you completely naked under him. He had never been this hard in his life. He wrestled with his belt and signed in relief when his cock sprang free from his boxers. He could see how visibly nervous you had gotten when you saw his size.

“I’ll be gentle baby, I promise.” Your face softened at his words and he attached his lips back to yours. He kissed you so sweetly, so passionately almost like he was in love. But you didn’t let your thoughts wander. That was a conversation for another time. His hand trailed down in between your legs and your breathing hitched when he started rubbing your clit. “I’m just gonna get you ready for me okay?”

After toying with your clit for a moment he slid his digits down and you could feel them probing your entrance. He worked his mouth over to your neck and left tender kisses as he slowly slid one finger in. The feeling wasn’t new, you masturbated often but you could never really manage to get yourself off with anything other than a vibrator. He slowly slid in another before pumping them gently in and out. His fingers stretched you out and went deeper than yours ever could. The room was filled with your helpless whines and whimpers all over again as he curled his fingers upwards, finding that sweet spot inside of you that you could never manage to find yourself. As bad as he wanted you to cum around his fingers, he just couldn’t wait any longer to be inside of you. He pulled his fingers away from you and spread your legs wide for him, getting ready to align himself before looking back up at you.

“I’m ready J.” The tip of his cock spread you apart more than anything ever had before and you hissed at the pain as he slowly pushed his way in. He stopped immediately, refusing to move before you gave him the okay to keep going. You could tell he was having a hard time suppressing his moans at how tight you were around him. He leaned down to kiss you again when he finally bottomed out and started rubbing your clit again to help ease your pain. When you were finally adjusted to the feeling, you broke your silence. “Okay.” Your hands clung to his back with your nails when he pulled out and slowly pushed back in. He watched your face as you winced the first couple of thrusts but his mind was put at ease when your cries of pain became cries of pleasure.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re fucking perfect. You feel so good around me.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he increased his pace slightly. He relished in the fact that he was the first guy to taste you, to make you cum, to be inside of you. He pushed away his thoughts of praying he could be the only one, the last one. That was a conversation for another time. Your moans progressively got louder and louder as his cock hit that spot inside of you perfectly each time. You were squeezing him so hard, he had to fight off the urge to cum too soon. He had to get you there first. He increased his thrusts even further and started rubbing your clit once again. He swallowed your moans with more loving kisses as he felt you clench around him. He started twitching inside of you after that and you could see a state of panic wash over his face.

“JJ.” You started to speak but he pulled out of you quickly and his cum shot all over your stomach as he groaned.

“Shit, Y/N I’m sorry.” He looked embarrassed and you giggled.

“J, you didn’t need to pull out. I started birth control a couple of months ago just in case. I’m sorry, I tried to tell you.”

“Damn.” Was all he could say as you both still fought to steady your breath. He hopped off the bed to grab a towel and cleaned you up. Once he was done with that, he went to grab his clothes and you promptly grabbed his hand stopping him in his tracks.

“Wanna do it again? I want the FULL experience this time.” He knew exactly what you meant and he felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck.” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear before he crashed his lips back into yours.

[dokkamj]

OBSESSED

MJ here, i’m sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my native language.

this is a 18+ and MDNI!! story.

thank you and enjoy.

Simon was always staring at you, his beautiful girlfriend so pure and innocent, so beautiful.

You was busy to talk with Captain Price, you needed some reports for your department and other bureaucracy things since for this time, secret service and TF 141 worked together for a rescue mission of high level.

Simon didn’t move his gaze, that pretty suit of yours and those heels that makes you taller and your legs even more beautiful, hair tied up in a professional bun red lipstick that makes him want to press his lips on yours.

Even Soap had pointed out that he was maybe too obsessed with this girl, have been together for a couple of months and it seems serious, Gaz warned him that if he will be like this y/n was gonna probably dump him, so with a bit of fear he contained himself and finally glanced at his damn paperwork even if the thoughts was still fixed ab her underneath him.

“thank you John i appreciate that” he heard her says “no problem agent y/n i’il send you everything before 8’ clock” his captain said and their conversation finally ended.

He could hear the heels sounds coming towards him, he was smiling in anticipation “hey bunny” he calls you with a smile “Simon keep it professional please” you remarked but couldn’t help giggle at the same time.

“i was thinking, if me and ya and a couple of drinks tonight is acceptable.” Simon said looking up at you as you stand in front of his desk, rolling your eyes and sighed.

“gonna be free after 12am, s’that still ok? or do you wanna come at my place instead?” you asked, you would be probably too tired to dress up and go around the city, he smirks and looks up “ofc it’s ok sweet thing” he said and stand up looking around to see if anyone was near, and when he makes sure that you two was alone, he rolled up his mask slightly to expose his lips, pulling you by the hips and gave you a kiss.

“miss ya’ underneath me” he muttered on her ear, oh gods she was so beautiful and he knew that he needed to keep it cool, he couldn’t help but press his hips against yours making you feel how hard he was and how painful it was going around like this with the uniform on.

he took you off guard with that, leaving you with your mouth slightly open “lieutenant!” she muttered remarking the ,keep it professional’ thing.

“can’t help, ma girl on high heels? and talk to ma captain with that authority tone?? makes me go crazy love.” he muttered and smiled when you giggled.

“can you wait till tonight? please keep it cool Simon” she said and sighed, she was crossing a line just by let him hold and kiss her like this. He nods and took a step back and fixed his crotch, you couldn’t help but stare at that movement, his smirk grew wider.

“no comments about it Simon, or i’il chop your neck off, heard me?” you said with authority and sighed, this man was giving a hard time to keep it cool too. He giggled and looked at you “ah ya know me too good” he admitted that he was going to saying something if you didn’t stop him.

Your phone started to ring and you can feel that it wasn’t gonna be a good call as you see the name of one of your higher ups on display. With a sigh “see you at 12am” she said and waived at him leaving him with his mouth dry but he recognize that she had work to do so he.

—12am—

it was really a fucking bad mood, you needed to present everything at the rookies and had so many work calls and so many files and so many project international mission to display and to choose which agent was more appropriate than the other and…

your mind was just blowing.

Simon noticed it immediately, even if he was in a mood for something else he kept it for himself. “Com’here lemme spoil ya” he muttered as he picks you up from the couch and walked with you in his arms to the bedroom.

As you too lay down, you sighed in frustration and start to share in some limits of course the bad day you just had, and he also shared his. It ended up eating some pizza and go to sleep, and the next day was exactly the same.

but for Simon was even fucking worst, he didn’t have his release and he knew that wasn’t your fault, so that’s why he didn’t talk about it, or make you feel guilty because you two didn’t have been intimate the last night, but he couldn’t help but every time he thinks about you he got hard, and it doesn’t matter where he was, he was hard just by the thought of his girlfriend.

He was exhausted and fucking stressed. When you texted him to pass by your apartment he was gonna take whatever occasion you would give him, but he needed to be inside of you, no metter fucking what, his hands where itching to touch your soft skin.

You two end up to see each other in front your apartment build, you had noticed that he was acting a bit odd, but you wanted at least to wait to be at home.

The elevator was kinda slow and when you two finally reach the the floor and opened the door, he slams it close behind the two of you, and grabs your wrist and pulling you close.

“fuck i know ya’ had a hard time at work—“ he seems out of breath, he doesn’t even know how to tell you so he just grabs your hand and press it on his crotch feeling the hard bulge pulsating under your palm, your expression changed, and you realize that it have been a good amount of time since you two was intimate, work wasn’t helping and your mood too.

“i can’t see ya’ walk next to me that my dick is hard, i can’t think ab ya’ or hear ya’ voice that ma friend here gets exited.” he mutters frustrated and exhausted, he was a big man but this situation made him feel like a 15 year old boy exploring the “sex” topic again with the consequences of being horny every two seconds.

You giggled and sighed dropping your purse down on the floor and start to kiss him, it was funny to see a grown ass lieutenant act that way. He moaned against your lips as his hands go to rest on your hips and pulls you even closer than before.

“can’t wait, need ya now, promise i’il recover the role-play later.” he muttered, as he lifts down your pants and starts to caress your pussy trough your panties, feeling how warm how soft you was made him go insane.

you gasped at the sudden attack, but you let out a sigh mixed to a moan of relief, to be honest you needed this too.

you kick off your pants quickly, he push you against the cold kitchen counter, his hands caress your clit trough the soft fabric of your underwear, torturing that sweet spot that makes your eyes roll backwards and your legs tremble. He moves them aside and slipped two fingers in and you moaned and gasped for breath against the skin of his neck.

“wet are we? mh?” he muttered, sucking on your earlobe, you could hear his heavy breath and his determination to get what he wanted, you.

“sucking my finger back in mh?” he keeps the tease as you couldn’t help but spread your legs a bit more, giving him all the access he needs to take his way with you.

He lives a hickey on your collarbone, he will be scolded soon for this, but right now he doesn’t care, he wanted to mark the only thing he had.

“curios’ to know if this tight pussy will suck ma cock back in too…” he whispered with that thick british accent of his “shall we find out yeah??” he said, and you nodded, desperate to feel him in your belly, to feel filled by your man.

“i think we should…” you muttered, giving him the ok, your hands quickly goes to his belt undoing it with the button and the zip of his uniform, oh gods if he was hard goddamn he want to split you apart.

as soon as his throbbing cock was exposed he gripped the base of it and make sure to tease your folds with his thick tip, slapping it on your clit, making a wet sound that made you almost ashamed for how easily he can make you dripping.

he was reaching his pockets to find his wallet and the condom but you stopped him “don’t waste time” you muttered feeling yourself inpatient to take him.

“yes ma’am” he muttered spreading your legs a bit more, standing on your tiptoes because he was too tall, he position himself and teased you with a last slap on your clit, he thrusted deep inside of you.

his body shook and his expression changed in one of relief that quickly became a smirk, feeling your walls squeezing him tight in a dead grip.

your head falls back as you let out a moan, his hands go to rip that shirt of yours exposing your full breast and that red bra. He starts slow “look how good ya take me, and surely suck me back in…” he muttered as he start to slam himself deep inside of you and then pull out slowly, making you scream with pleasure.

“please please” you begged him to go faster, feeling your orgasm bubbling up in your belly. He pulls out slowly once again and start to roughly rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit, he wanted you to orgasm without him filling you up.

this was a damn torture, because you wanted him inside “Simon please” you let out a small cry as your legs shake “cum on this cock then we can talk ab it, ya’ heard me sweet thing?” he murmured on your lips as you gasped for air.

and with the desire to please him, in a pair of minutes you came miliking the tip of cock, he was satisfy enough to make a smirk “good girl ya’ are, let me take care of ya’ okay?” he murmured, making you turn around and lay down on your chest as he pushed himself back in, a shiver run down his spine, this was where he wanted to die, if you ask him.

he grabs your hair in one of his fits and pull your head up as he fucks you like a slut against the kitchen counter, gods you where so beautiful and he was a sucker for you.

“mine all mine…” he muttered in a hint of possessiveness in his voice as he kiss the back of your neck as he keeps up his rough rhythm. His mouth on your soft skin as one of his hands where on your hip, the other let go your hair to hold your hand.

he pumps into you and every time your wall squeeze him, he grunt and moaned against your shoulder “bloody hell” his voice gruff “ya’are perfect.” he murmured giving you a forceful slap on the ass, making you moan and feeling your legs tremble in anticipation, the second orgasm already bubbling up in your belly.

“Simon, i’m close—“ you moaned, your cheek against the cold withe marble of the counter, he speed up his movements making sure you won’t walk straight for a good amount of time.

his hands where everywhere on you, from your hips to your tights, squeezing you and leaving marks that will take time to pass, he was so good at fucking you, at praising you.

you came once again screaming his name and this was the thing that made him almost reach his peak, he was so close too, but he needed that perfect mouth of yours.

as he get you on your knees he cupped your cheeks in his hands, thumbs caressing your mouth as your hair was all messy he smudged your lipstick “need that little mouth of yours, can ya?” he asks, his breath heavy his heart was loud in his chest. You looked up at him and nodded.

“how good ya are for me?” he questioned, those damn doll eyes, fuck he love the sight of you like this, he loves you and he was starting to realize it.

“really much” you whispered against his thumbs “yeah? s’that so? Mh?” his eyes where full of last and his shaft was painfully throbbing ready to release, he taps his cock on your lips teasingly.

“than eat this cock like a good girl ya’ are for ya’ lieutenant mh?” he gives you a light slap on your cheek, not so forceful but teasingly enough to make you lick your lips in anticipation.

he pushed his cock deep in your mouth till he hits the back of your throat, and he grinned as you didn’t flinch “so fucking good for me ya’ are” he muttered caressing your throat as he pumps his shaft deep in your mouth.

you knew how much he likes it when you look at him, so you made sure to keep a good eye contact as you suck him off. He moaned and you could see his abs contract, one hand go to rest on the back of your head and push you down onto his cock feeling himself close.

his moans where deep and sweet, as he looks at you and when he about to came, he pulls out from your mouth and brushed the tip of his cock against your lips as he released, he watch you lick your lips stained from his cum.

“fuck i’m obsess with ya’” he admitted as he caress your reddish cheeks “com’here, gonna take care of ma’ woman” he muttered helping you to stand up.

you two showered and you need to admit it, this was one of the best sex session you had in your whole life.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Idk if it’s just me but this is how I see Yandere Mark with batsib.

Batsib who had a neglectful parent and needs to be obsessively loved

Mark Grayson who’s obsessively in love with them.

I also feel like batsib is also adopted but could be blood related to Damian. Oh I also feel like batsib and Mark were close friends before they started dating. I just like the premise of Mark and batsib being friends before dating because that’ll mean they batsib trusts him.

Also I feel like mark isn’t that bad of a boyfriend it’s just his obsessive tendencies and possessiveness. I feel like Mark would def take batsib out on dates and make sure there well taken care of. Idk I’m desperate

This is so late but I def agree. My last post was purely a joke post.

Don't get me wrong, I absolutely am a fiend for evil boy Mark. Evil Mark has my heart idc idc idc.

Mark is such a good boy he loves every single girl he's been with so much. Like he's such a family boy. ;-; his mama raised him right. He love Batsis more than anything and would do whatever makes her happy.

I think Mark would love being able to be an obsessive partner with batsis. Like you said it wouldn't even be in a bad way, he gets to be extremely over protective and keep you safe without ever worrying about being too much. If he ever did push a boundary he is so apologetic, he's so cuteee.

Even when he has to be away for a while doing hero stuff, he comes back and is treating you like you're the only girl in the world. How nice it'd be when he takes you on late night flights to where you wanna go. All the kisses and attention. He's great on sending you updates, you literally are all that matters.

Dates are great. Perfect teenage/young adults dream. You're always going on adventures together. I think his mom would love you and wouldn't care if you was constantly over. Like you can have that spare room.

There's tons of lazy days where Mark is holding you in his bed for hours while you guys eat junk and be bliss. He just never wants to be away from you.

Even when his dad is talking nonsense, he could never in a million years think about killing you. He doesn't care if he'll outlive you and still be young when you're old. To him, you're the only one that could ever fill that void within him. It's not years wasted to him, if it's spent with you. He'd love you as much as you need for the rest of your life..

but ughhh after Norman started being weird, can you just imagine how protective Mark would get. He's never leaving your side. He doesn't trust anyone or thing. You're his baby, he's willing to take any beating from his dad if that means you will be safe. He'll bounce back but you are so fragile...he cannot risk it. He's never abandoning you, not after you parents.

it would be funny though for him to have beef with some of the batsiblings tho, even if it's friendly. I think it'd just make sense, especially if the batsis are yanderes with too. Like come on Bruce would at least def hate him and Norman. Mark didn't even do anything wrong but he's still a threat.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 21. Show Me

Summary: After rushing from the training hall, Dahlia is left alone to her thoughts. Or so she thinks.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

I had no idea how I ended up here. Just letting my feet carry me to wherever they lead me. Which apparently was the top of one of the towers of the Quadrant. It clearly wasn’t used much, but it must have been a place someone came to as there were some footsteps in the dust in the stairwell.

I’m sure the view was beautiful, but all I could do was stare down at my hands, the memory replaying in my head over and over again. The scream echoing loudly in my head over, and over again. I’d barely had my signet a day and it was already a shit show just like the rest of my life. Just when life was starting to be good for once. I was making friends, didn’t have to deal with the constant disappointed looks of my father and brother. I was actually living my life. Now I doubted anyone would want anything to do with me after that.

They must have developed a signet like I had recently. Emetterio knew of my signet after last night, knew it wasn’t entirely safe for me to touch anyone except Bodhi really. His signet was the only one I could trust in my hands. But clearly the other cadet had manifested one without realising. And I’d thrown it back at them without even realising and caused everyone in the Quadrant to look on in horror as they screamed and screamed. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to block the memory from my mind, but it does nothing. The scream still echoing loudly in my ears.

I startle as the door next to me opens. I half expect to see Xaden who I knew had tried to follow me out. And at first I think it is him with how tall the person is, but as they fully step through the door, it’s the last person I expect to see. They shut the door behind them before walking over and lowering themselves to the ground as they lean up against the ledge with me, legs sprawled out in front of them. I look up at them to see them staring down at my hands. I’d only ever seen him glare or tease me, so the worried way he looks at my hands is new to me. A softer look to their features I’ve not seen before, as if they were relaxed despite the worry. And I hated to say how much I liked it.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, an almost pained tone to their voice.

I look at him confused, unsure why he’s apologising to me. “Sorry? Why are you sorry Garrick?”

His shifts his gaze to look at me, and I can see the pain in his hazel eyes. I can see how sorry he is, as if he feels like this is his fault. But there’s something more there. I know the look in his eyes isn’t just to do with what happened to me.

“I’m sorry, because the signet you replicated was mine.” He confesses, averting his gaze as he leans his head back against the stone ledge, looking up at the roof.

I stare at him in disbelief. One because I’d been so adamant I’d replicated the cadet I’d been up against. And two…. Because this was a side of him I had never seen. Not once in my months here had I seen him be anything but the arrogant lumbering oaf I’d assumed him to be. Didn’t think he cared about anyone but himself and the few he kept close. But I can see how worried he is. How bad he feels. There’s no way this is an act. Especially when I lower my gaze and note a slight shake to his hands. I almost want to reach out and grasp them in mine, but after what’s happened I doubt he’d let me. And I internally kick myself for wanting to do so. Just because he feels sorry for me and what’s happened, doesn’t mean he won’t go back to treating me any different once tomorrow comes. Just like my brother and father.

“The same thing happened to me.” He starts, his gaze still set on the roof. “We were doing training while challenges were on hold. Only a few squads were with us. And I had no idea my signet had manifested.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before looking down at his own hands. “We were doing hand to hand combat and at first it was fine. Both of us landing hits on each other without any issue. But as it went on and got more and more intense, I felt something shift in me. Something had changed. And as I pinned them beneath me, their screams echoed around the room as they writhed in pain beneath me.”

Garrick squeezes his fists shut, the tremble now more emphasised due to it. As I look at him I realise what had happened today was almost a copy and paste of what had happened to him last year. No doubt reliving the memory as the screams had echoed around the training room, watching as I pinned them to the ground in a similar manner. Not only was I shaken, but Garrick was to.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

He turns his head and lightly laughs. “The last thing you need to be is sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

I shake my head. “But I did. I didn’t think. I should have thought about what could happen when I touched your arm. But I didn’t. I didn’t think and now I’ve probably traumatised some poor cadet, and you.” I ramble, finally breaking free of the slump I was in. “Everyone probably thinks I’m a freak.”

He chuckles lightly, my eyes narrowing at him as I glare at him slightly. “Aww you care about me. How sweet.”

I huff and push off the ground, “And there it is. Sorry for trying to be nice.” I snap as I go to storm off.

I barely take a step before his hand grasps my arm halting me in my tracks. I try to pull my arm free, not wanting to accidentally hurt him but he just grips my arm tighter.

“I’m not trying to be an ass. Just thought a joke might make you feel better.” He states bluntly as he stares down at me.

The last time I’d been this close was in the hallway the day after threshing, and I’d forgotten just how tall Garrick truly was as I crane my neck to look up at him. And just like last time, being this close to him affects me more than it should.

“It doesn’t matter, as soon as we walk out of here you’ll go back to hating me and treating me like you normally do.” I say as I try to loosen my arm from his grip.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t hate you Dahlia.”

I freeze at his words. In all the months I’d been here, not once had he used my name. Always calling me little Aetos, or some other colourful word. Never by my actual name. And I hated how it caught me off guard. Hated how much I liked it coming from him.

He releases my arm, clearly satisfied I won’t storm off anymore. “At the start, yeah I did. But I’ve realised I never hated you. I hated your name. Your last name. Who I thought you were. Who your father is. And dare I say, I was wrong about you.”

“Is this you trying to apologise?” I ask, staring at him like he’s gone crazy.

Cause clearly he had. Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been knocked out on that mat and this was just a dream. There was no way these words were coming from Garrick. Garrick who despised me from the moment I stepped off the parapet and he knew my…. My name. I’d barely looked at him but there was no hate in his eyes the first time I’d looked at him. He looked curious and amused as I’d tried to avoid giving my name to him and Xaden. But the moment Dain had uttered my last name, it had changed. Every time he’d looked at me since then there had been hate in his eyes. Until now. And I hated to admit that now as I looked up at him, there was none of that there. For once Garrick Tavis was looking at me like he didn’t hate me.

“I can retract it if you want? But yes, this is me saying that maybe I was wrong about jumping to conclusions about you based off a name.” He admits with a shrug, clearly trying to play it casual.

“You aren’t doing this because you feel bad about the whole signet thing?” I ask, still not sure what he’s saying is true.

“I won’t deny I feel extremely bad about what happened. But it’s not why I’m doing this. And I get if you don’t believe a single word I’m saying to you right now. Just felt like right now was the only time you would listen to me.”

He wasn’t wrong though. As he’d joined me up here I’d let him. I hadn’t scoffed and moved on time I usually would, hadn’t made a smart ass comment to him. I’d watched and let him sit next to me and talk to me properly. Too caught up in what had happened to care. And honestly, I’d wanted to company despite running off.

I walk over to the ledge, looking out over the Quadrant as I think over his words. Despite everything something deep down told me to accept his apology and put all this behind us. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I want to suddenly forgive him and move on? Maybe Bodhi’s insistence I give him a chance had finally worn me down.

“Ok. “ I utter, turning to look at him. “I’m not fully forgiving you. But I’m giving you a chance Tavis. As they say, actions speak louder than words.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[holymarymotherofsmut]

Summer Heat

Summary: You’re stuck heading into the office on a Sunday on the hottest day of the year, so you forego your usual business attire and show up in something more comfortable. The only problem? Your hot boss, Higuruma Hiromi is also working overtime. Can you handle the heat, the pressure, and Higuruma’s weird behavior?

wc: 8.3k

A/N: I wrote this on a miserable Sunday over the summer where I was too hot and had to do some work (luckily from home). I’ve been fussing over it but the temps are getting lower where I live and I was dreaming about warmer days with later sunsets.

Anyway, this is the first fic I’ve posted in like fifteen years! I feel like it’s too long and could use more editing, but I feel more strongly that the Higuruma girlies don’t get fed nearly enough so I’m doing my part 🫡

The only thing worse than having to go to work on a Sunday was having to go to work on a Sunday that’s also slated to be the hottest day of the year. The thought of putting on your usual pencil skirt and blouse made you want to peel your own skin off.

Then something occurred to you.

No one ever came in on Sunday. Not the power hungry new associates, hoping to stand out. Not the assistants, always drowning in more work than they could reasonably finish, but still did nonetheless. Not even your workaholic boss, Higuruma Hiromi, came in on Sundays.

You felt a guilty thrill, riding the train to the office in just some bike shorts and a tank top. There was no chance of anyone else being there, especially not as early in the morning as you were going, but the idea of getting caught still sent an anxious tingle up your spine.

The air conditioning in the building was almost enough to make up for the mountain of paperwork you needed to review before you could have what precious little remained of the weekend to yourself. You had your own office, whose closed door had trapped the AC since you left on Friday, an icy cold reprieve from the scorching temperatures outside.

As expected, there’s no sign of anyone else in the building today. You leave your door open anyway, hoping to hear anyone who might happen to come in before they find you.

Feeling a little more confident, you put on some music, keeping the level low even with the empty halls. You sang along quietly, occasionally gripping your pen as a microphone to belt out particularly good bits. You were lost in your performance enough that you didn’t notice someone else had arrived at the office.

It’s a muffled chuckle that makes you realize you’re not alone. Your eyes open, shooting to the door where your boss, the law firm's youngest partner, Higuruma Hiromi, is watching you. He has one fist raised to cover his mouth, trying desperately to suppress a laugh.

“Fuck!” You shout in surprise, scrambling to turn off the music.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt,” he says with a good natured smile, still chuckling a little. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here today and then I heard you.”

At the same time, you were trying to explain. “Please, I’m so sorry. I know I’m dressed wildly inappropriately for the office. I really didn’t think anyone would be here.”

He visibly stiffened, finally looking at your outfit. Your breasts spilled out of your top, shining with a thin sheen of sweat just from the brief walk from the station to the office. He could just see a sliver of thigh over the desk where your shorts ended before your legs disappeared under the desk. His smile disappeared and was replaced with an almost pained expression, one you read as thinly veiled disgust.

“I’ll run home and change. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out, standing up behind your desk and fumbling for your bag.

“What?” His big eyes met your panicked ones for a second. “No, don’t be silly. No one else is here, and I’ll be in my office all day.”

You paused, bag still in hand, brain screaming for you to leave and never come back to the office again. “Are you sure?”

“You won’t even know I’m here,” he said with a tight-lipped smile.

He stood there staring at you, not moving until you set your bag down. Once he was satisfied, he gave you a quick nod and turned on his heel out of your office. You knew it was probably your imagination, but you could have sworn he was half-running back to his office.

Higuruma vexed you. That was the only way you could put it. He was generally so kind, so ready to explain something, or to help you work out an argument. He never questioned when you needed time off, he never asked you to stay and work overtime. And being that handsome certainly didn’t hurt. All of this only made you more desperate to impress this man.

The only time he was ever anything other than a perfect gentleman was when you wore revealing clothing. You didn’t have evidence of anything, and it sounded insane even to you, so you hadn’t shared your suspicions, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that was the problem.

The first time it happened, a client had accidentally spilled coffee down the front of your dress, and you didn’t have time to run home and change before you needed to be in court. You had grabbed the spare set of clothes you kept in the bottom drawer of your desk and hoped for the best.

The clothes had been shuffled from one temporary legal job to the next while you were finding your footing after law school, and you’d never had occasion to use them before, so you weren’t terribly surprised to find them a little tight.

You had started eating more, now that you weren’t a literally starving law student. Your figure had filled out, and it showed when you tried to squeeze into the years-old pencil skirt and button down blouse, but you had no other choice. As you tried to secure one more button on the top, trying to retain some level of modesty, your breasts rebelled and you heard the button ping against the mirror.

You were assisting Higuruma in court that day, and immediately things started to go poorly. You had arrived at his office, your blouse undone a button below where it should have been, trying desperately to hide in your coworker’s blazer she’d let you borrow to try to cover yourself a little more effectively.

“You weren’t wearing that earlier,” he had blurted out, taking in the much tighter outfit you had appeared in.

“Sorry. Someone covered me in coffee and this was all I had,” you said with an apologetic wince.

“It’s fine,” he said, waving his hand and looking back down at the papers on his desk intently. “I’m just finishing something up. Can I meet you down by my car? The keys are in the pocket of my jacket just there.”

He didn’t even look up at you as he gestured to the coat rack where his suit jacket hung. You felt a little like you were being dismissed. You took the keys with a frown and made your way down to his car.

He appeared not even a minute later, making you wonder if he just didn’t want to be seen walking with you. He ignored you the whole ride to the court house. Okay, not really - he chatted with you, a little more stiffly than usual, but with a friendly tone. But he didn’t look at you once during the drive. You appreciated him keeping his eyes on the road, but this felt deliberate.

His cold behavior continued for the rest of the day. All throughout the hearing, when he was driving you to the station, all day, he only looked at you if he absolutely had to. The only thing you could think was that he was embarrassed to be seen with you looking like that.

You had returned to the office the next day in long, loose pants and a shapeless sweater, shame still lingering. You replaced your emergency clothes with ones that fit properly. Higuruma went back to being his normal self.

The second time you had noticed it was at the office Holiday party. Everyone had shown up in fun cocktail attire, and you had gotten so many compliments on your dress. Burgundy velvet, long sleeves, and an open neckline that showed off your shoulders without revealing too much cleavage. A happy medium of sexy and office appropriate, or so you’d thought.

After greeting Higuruma on the way in, you didn’t see him for the rest of the night. You had been hoping to chat with him - you were still relatively new and you wanted him to know you were up for any challenging cases he had to throw at you. But every time you’d spot him, in the time it took you to extricate yourself from the conversion you were in and make your way to where you’d spotted him, he was gone.

He had left the party early, and you had left feeling rejected. You couldn’t figure out what you’d done wrong. You could only hope that you could work your way back into his good graces before he decided to fire you.

Only, there was no need to work your way back into his good graces, as it turned out. He was at your desk first thing the next morning, explaining the new defense strategy he had cooked up, sounding hopeful about the case for the first time since he’d taken it on.

If twice is a coincidence and thrice is a pattern, today solidified your belief that it was clothing related. You frown, thinking about how kind you always thought Higuruma was. If he was going to act this way over some clothing, maybe he wasn’t worth putting in the effort to impress.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the smell of coffee drifting from down the hall. You had long finished the cup you brought from home and were craving another. Hesitantly, you made your way to the kitchen, unpleasantly surprised to find Higuruma had beaten you there.

You hesitated in the doorway, debating going in, but his dark eyes found you before you could make a decision.

“Oh, hello again,” he said mildly, immediately turning back to the cupboard. It was too fast to have not been intentional, but he tried to cover it up by opening the cabinet with the mugs, the ends of his slicked-back hair swaying slightly as he surveyed the sea of identical mugs. “I assume you’re here for coffee?”

Before you can answer he pours you a cup, gesturing to it, still not looking at you.

“Thank you.” You say it looking directly at him, hoping to leave him no choice but to finally look you in the eye. And he does, for a fleeting moment. You think you see heated red cheeks as he mumbles something about having work to do and breezes past you out of the kitchenette.

You frown down at the steaming mug in front of you. He didn’t have to like what you wore but he didn’t need to be so dismissive. You decide to have a little fun with him today. If you have to be in the office, and you have to deal with his attitude, at least you can make him squirm.

Around noon you headed down to his office. You’d hiked up your shorts a little, just enough that it was debatable if you’d done it on purpose or if they had just ridden up from walking. Your top was already cut fairly low, but you tugged it down anyway, allowing another inch of cleavage to peak through.

The door to his office was slightly ajar, but you knocked on the wood anyway, polite even when your ultimate goal was to torture him a little. A distracted, “Come in,” came from inside, so you pushed the door the rest of the way open.

“I was just going to order some lunch,” you began, leaning against the door frame casually, knowing the angle would make your legs appear longer. “Did you want anything?”

Your plan was working. When he finally glanced up from the document he’d been poring over, his face went a shade paler. His eyes were locked onto your legs, traveling up the length of them before he remembered himself and snapped them up to meet your gaze.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied in a clipped tone, immediately looking back down at his work.

“Are you sure? You really shouldn’t skip lunch.” You frowned, standing up straight and crossing your arms. You might have been toying with him, but you also spent a good part of your regular work day worrying about the man also. He was here early, always the last to leave, and you knew for a fact that he frequently skipped meals in favor of working on a case.

The genuine concern in your tone made him look back up at you curiously, in turn making you realize that you’d strayed from your original goal. You uncrossed your arms, breasts jiggling with the motion, drying up whatever retort Higuruma had lined up on his tongue.

“I brought lunch today, but I appreciate the offer. Feel free to charge it to the company account though, since you’re working on a Sunday.” His tone was polite, the offer kind, but it was clearly a dismissal. Again, his eyes immediately went back to studying the words on the page in front of him.

With a shrug you turned on your heel, not catching the way his eyes followed your ass as you walked away, or the way he shook his head in annoyance at himself after you had disappeared.

Around two, he saw a blur of movement as you left the office, the tell-tale ding of the elevator confirming his suspicions. He let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how much longer he could be in the office with you looking like that.

Higuruma thought of himself as a good, ethical man. He was someone who always wanted what was just and fair to be done. He paid his parking tickets on time, he tipped 30% or more even when it wasn’t expected, he didn’t even jaywalk.

And he definitely didn’t hit on his subordinates. No matter how beautiful, or intelligent, or witty they were. No matter how kind they were, no matter how they fussed over him, no matter how much his cock twitched when he saw even an inch of skin he wasn’t expecting.

No, Higuruma would never make the first move, no matter how sure he was that you felt the same magnetic pull between you.

He was still thinking about you when the elevator dinged again, indicating someone’s arrival. He frowned - who would be coming in at this hour on a Sunday?

You.

You hadn’t left, apparently. You had just popped out to the corner store for a snack. In one hand you had a small plastic bag, heavy with a drink and what looked like a couple of onigiri. Your other hand was holding a popsicle up to your mouth.

He prayed that you’d just keep walking past his office, but god was not on his side today, it seemed.

“Here,” you said before putting the popsicle in your mouth, holding it there while you used your now free hand to rummage around in the bag. You produced an onigiri and tossed it at him. He barely managed to catch it, fumbling it a little in his hands. The label said it was spicy tuna, his favorite.

“What’s this for?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. He tried to keep his eyes on your face, which was hard when you were sucking on the popsicle that way. How many times had he imagined you looking at him with your mouth full of…

“For playing baseball,” you responded drily. “What do you think it’s for?”

“I told you, I was fine,” he protested, holding the food out to you uselessly.

“I know you didn’t actually bring lunch,” you said with a scowl. “Eat.”

While the popsicle was out of your mouth, it melted enough to send a drop of red syrup dripping onto your right breast. You swiped at it with a finger and popped the digit into your mouth, then you licked up the side of the popsicle where the errant drip had come from.

He’s not sure he’s ever been harder in his life.

“Thank you.” He said stiffly, suddenly very interested in the wrapper of the onigiri in his hand. “I have some work I need to finish up. Is there anything else?”

You scoffed quietly, and he almost broke and looked up at you, but he instead turned to pretend to rummage in his desk for something.

“No, that’s all Mr. Higuruma,” you replied, matching the formality and stiffness of his tone. He heard your angry footsteps retreat down the hall, only allowing himself to let out a sigh once he heard your door shut just a little too loudly. He put his head in his hands, aware that he had upset you somehow. He had been too focused on not showing his attraction to you, not letting you in on his shameful secret, that he completely missed whatever he might have done to deserve such a reaction.

He’d have to talk to you later, but right now he needed to get his emotions and his dick under control.

You’d had a shockingly productive day, all things considered.

Really, you had thrown yourself into your work to try and forget about Higuruma making you feel… well, you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was you were feeling. At first you thought it was just anger at his dismissive behavior, but under the anger was deep embarrassment. It was the sting of romantic rejection, something you hadn’t considered when you started this little game.

You were attracted to him. You had always been able to admit that. But he was a good man, you thought, far too good to ever do something as scandalous as date an employee. Part of you had maybe hoped that it wasn’t anger but attraction on his part too that made him act so odd around you sometimes.

But you’d proven to yourself once and for all that it was, at the end of the day, disgust and annoyance with you as a person. You could continue to be professional - you were an adult, you had learned how to compartmentalize. But maybe you needed to keep your distance for a while.

This is how you ended up sitting in your office at 7 p.m., sun sinking slowly, casting your office in a wash of orange. You’d wrapped up everything you wanted to do plus a little extra in the hopes of avoiding Higuruma on your way out. You hadn’t heard him leave yet, but surely he had to be gone by now.

As it turned out, you had no such luck.

Two soft knocks sounded from the door. You lifted your head from where you’d had it resting on your arms as you tried to gather the strength to get up and brave the outside world. Higuruma was peering at you through the window to the side of your door, brow creased with concern.

“Come in,” you croaked out, throat sore from holding back tears. You refused to cry at the office.

“Are you alright?” He was talking before he had even taken a step into the office, walking toward you.

“I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache,” you lied, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

“You should go home,” he pressed, hovering a few feet away from your desk, hands lifted like he wanted to help, but they dangled there uselessly as he realized he didn’t know how.

“I will. Did you need something?” You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but he was the last person on earth you wanted to talk to right now.

“No, I just…” He started a sentence, then paused, studying your face. He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his dark irises were fixed on yours in determination. “I feel like I upset you earlier, and I wanted to come and apologize.”

“No apology necessary, Mr. Higuruma. You haven’t done anything to upset me.” Another lie, bitter as it rolled off your tongue.

He said nothing, but continued staring at you, as if waiting for you to reveal the truth. You couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, your eyes shooting down to the documents in front of you. You started to rearrange the papers on your desk, just to have something to do with your hands, praying he didn’t notice your fingers shaking as you did.

He stepped forward, hands now moving with purpose to take the papers from you and set them down, forcing you to look up at him again.

“Please tell me what I’ve done wrong,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. I’m willing to learn, I promise.”

“You want the truth?” You asked defiantly, suddenly ready to teach him the meaning of the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for.’

“Please,” he repeated. His melancholy gaze stayed on your face, giving him the appearance of a hound dog trying to understand why its master was angry.

“You need to get over whatever your hangup is with revealing outfits,” you said, crossing your arms, now meeting his stare with intensity he hadn’t expected. “It sucks that you treat me one way when I’m dressed modestly and another way when I dare to have a little more skin showing.”

“Is that… is that what you think it is?” He asked, suddenly a little amused. He had come in here ready to be scolded for ogling you, for making you uncomfortable with his obvious and unwanted attraction.

What a fascinating turn.

“Well… what else could it be?” You asked, scrunching your brows together in confusion.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Higuruma began softly, a half-smile playing around his lips. “Have you seen what Lisa the receptionist considers work appropriate?”

You cringed internally at the thought. Lisa, the receptionist who apparently didn’t need to sleep at all. She regaled you all with her tales of weeknight clubbing, and her taste in clothes showed it. Her skirts were short, her heels were high, and if she wasn’t showing cleavage, you could safely assume that it was because of hickies she didn’t want anyone to see (though she would absolutely show you without prompting if you had the misfortune of being in the bathroom with her at the same time).

“I mean, she looks fantastic,” you argued weakly, understanding where this was going.

“She does,” he agreed. “Have you ever seen me treat her differently because of what she was wearing?”

“Well… No,” you admitted, feeling your case fall apart in your hands.

“So why would you think that I’d treat you any differently?” He asked, still trying to get to the root of your anger.

“Because you do! Because whenever I wear something even slightly more scandalous than a pantsuit, you ignore me! It’s like I’m not even there!” Traitorous tears gathered along your lashline, threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Is it because you just don’t like me personally? Is it something I’ve done?” You voice wavered, breaking on the last word.

“Oh dear,” Higuruma said, mostly to himself, it seemed. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

“What are you talking about?” You sniffled, resisting the urge to grab a tissue. Somehow that felt like one pathetic step too far.

He said your name with a quiet fondness you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s not anything you’ve done, and it’s not your clothes. It’s my fault. I’ve been worse at hiding my feelings than I thought, it seems.”

“What do you mean?” You insisted. “If it’s not the clothes, what is it?”

He made his way around your desk, kneeling down penitently in front of you on the floor. He looked up at you with a sad smile. “Forgive me. In trying to conceal my attraction to you, it seems I’ve been terribly rude.”

Your ears fill with the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, so loud that you almost miss what he says next.

“I completely understand if you don’t want to work with me any longer. I can rearrange the cases and make sure you don’t have to work on mine. I’ll keep my distance.” His gaze falls to the floor, shoulders following downward as he finishes.

“Higuruma,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’ll look up at you again. When he doesn’t, you lean forward in your chair, hands cupping his cheeks and making him look. There’s fear and longing and sadness all mixed together in his expression. His under eye circles even seem to have darkened in the time it took him to make his confession.

But there’s also kindness in those eyes. A desire to do what’s best for you and everyone else, no matter the personal cost to him. His proud nose casts a shadow on his face, half of it warmed by the golden light creeping through the window. He looked like a painting, a portrait of a man burning with desire just under a placid surface.

“What if I don’t want you to keep your distance?”

It’s a simple question. He has a law degree. But still he can’t quite parse what you’re saying. His brain short circuited the minute you put your hands on his face.

“What does that mean?” He whispered.

“It means…” You pause, carefully considering your words. “It means that maybe what got me so upset earlier was the idea that you would never want me the way I want you, Hiromi.”

Just as he thought he was getting his feet back under him, you’ve knocked them out again. It’s not just the idea that you want him too - he’d never heard you say his first name before. He’d never even allowed himself to imagine it. The way your tongue wrapped around it, tasting the syllables for the first time had him ready to combust.

“Say that again. Please.” He was breathless already, face warming under your palms.

“I want you,” you repeated, your gaze moving between his eyes and his lips, like you couldn’t decide where to look.

“Say it properly,” he begged, hands reaching up to take your face in his hands.

It took you a moment to understand the request, distracted by the way his thumbs rubbed against the apples of your cheeks. You were leaning down in your chair, and he was sitting tall on his knees, your lips mere inches apart.

But you got there eventually. “I want you, Hiromi,” you said again, both of you already moving to close that final distance.

The kiss was better than you ever could have fantasized about. His lips were warm and soft, immediately parting against yours desperately. His hold on you was firm, clutching you close. Your right hand migrated to the back of his head, digging into the dark hair there and pulling him closer.

His tongue darted out, swiping your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You sighed into the kiss, allowing him to push his tongue further, moving against your tongue like it was the last time he’d ever kiss someone.

You broke apart breathlessly, cheeks aflame. Your lips shone with a mix of your saliva and his, making him kiss you again and again, unable to stop himself now that he knew you wanted this too.

Your hands tugged desperately at his shoulders, pulling him to you. You made to kneel down on the ground with him, eager for more, but he stopped you. You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him he’d tortured you this long, he could kiss you for another few minutes, but one look from him silenced you.

“Sit on the desk,” he commanded. You followed his directions, pushing aside your carefully-sorted piles haphazardly. He stood up and took his place between your parted thighs, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you to the very edge of the desk. You could feel his cock behind his trousers, hard as iron, pressing between your legs. You both gasped at the contact. The bike shorts might as well not have been there, for all they did to shield you from the blinding pleasure as he rutted against you desperately.

He leaned over you, caging you in, making you recline on your elbows as he continued to kiss you stupid. Breaths were taken in gasps, or while pressing your lips against each other’s necks, hot breath tickling sensitive hairs and sending you both into a frenzy all over again.

Hiromi broke the cycle, kissing down your neck, pulling the tanktop down to expose one perfect breast to him. He had never been a greedy man, never taking more than he needed at one time. His tongue flattened against your nipple, dragging slowly upward until the tip just caught on your hardening bud. He flicked his tongue with practiced ease, both of your nipples immediately standing at full attention, a fact he confirmed with his nimble fingers, tweaking the flesh beneath the thin top.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward in a satisfied smile. He knew he should stop. He’d gotten what he wanted. What if someone came in? What if there were cameras watching this whole thing? You had all the time in the world for this, why not wait until he could get you in private?

It wasn’t enough, he realized. He didn’t just need you here and now. He needed you to know you were his and he was yours. He needed to make up for lost time and avoidable heartache at his hand.

He had never been a greedy man, but you made him want to be. And now he needed to atone for his deadly sins.

He abandoned your breasts, both now popping out of the top of your shirt, slick with his spit, bruises blooming in the shape of his mouth against your soft skin. He began his descent again, sinking to his knees once more. He kissed along your ribs, pushing your shirt out of the way so he could mouth at the soft plush of your stomach, kissing and licking in a straight line from your naval down, down down.

He was tantalizingly close to his goal. Just as his lips were about to make contact with the outline of your pussy against the shorts, you stopped him with two hands in his hair.

“Wait,” you said breathlessly, gasping for air. Your head was spinning with desire, but not so much that you’d lost all sense.

“What is it? Do you not want this?” He panicked, standing up and taking a step back, hands up as a show of no ill intentions.

“No, I do,” you reassured him. “Very much so. But um, these shorts aren’t super breathable.”

He knew there was a reason you were bringing this up, but his mind was blank, focused solely on how he’d almost gotten to taste you after endless months of fisting his cock to mere fantasies. His face contorted with confusion, head cocking to the side as he tried to puzzle out your protest. You’d need to spell it out for him.

“I mean,” you started, cheeks flaring with color. “That I’m probably kind of sweaty down there. We can do that another time, I still want to do other-”

He cut you off mid-sentence with a relieved chuckle moving toward you once more. “That’s what you’re worried about? I thought you’d changed your mind.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he silenced you with a dizzying kiss, making you forget what you were going to say entirely.

“I’ve been thinking about you for too long,” he whispered, lips moving down your cheek and toward your ear to finish his thought. “Do you really think I’m going to let a little perspiration stop me?”

With that he slid one hand to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his palm flat against your belly. Just the very tips of his fingers dipped beneath the elastic. His eyes searched your face for any hesitation. Instead he found flushed cheeks, wide-eyed adoration, and a small nod.

He wasted no more time, pushing his hand under your shorts and panties, long middle finger immediately finding your clit and massaging it experimentally. You moaned loudly, head thrown back as he finally touched you where you’d been dreaming about. He sunk his hand down lower, fingertips just curling upward to brush at your entrance. You squirmed, hands gripping at his lapels as he leaned over you, teasing you, leaving sloppy kisses wherever his mouth could reach.

“Hiromi,” you panted, embarrassed at how tightly wound you were with so little foreplay.

Understanding the need lacing your tone, he removed his hand from your shorts, earning him a little whine of protest.

“Shhh,” he hushed you softly, lips pressing featherlight kisses to your neck as he peeled your shorts down, panties coming along for the ride. “Let me take care of you.”

He knelt before you again, taking a moment to palm his aching cock through his trousers, readjusting to give himself some kind of relief. Your knees had fallen shyly closed, afraid he might be able to see how a second heartbeat was now throbbing between your legs.

When he looked back up at you and noticed your embarrassment, he tsked quietly under his breath, bringing his palms up to the outside of your knees, caressing the skin there tenderly before moving them to your inner thighs. You provided no resistance as he pried your legs apart, enraptured by his face. He looked like he was opening a present.

His gaze fell to the sticky sheen between your thighs, pink tongue darting out involuntarily to wet his lips. He blew gently on your exposed cunt, savoring the way you twitched sensitively at the slightest stimulation. In a great show of willpower, he wrenched his eyes away from the heaven that awaited him between your thighs, focusing on your face. His breathing was shallow, hair mussed, pupils blown wide, the tips of his ears burning red.

With shaking hands, he grabbed the end of his tie, stuffing it between the fourth and fifth buttons on his shirt. You’d seen him do it countless times at lunch but you’d never thought of it in such a filthy context.

“I have never meant this more sincerely,” he began earnestly. You half expected some new confession, head dizzy with the possibilities. But his wet lips broke into a wicked grin as he finished his thought: “Itadakimasu.”

Humbly I receive.

You hadn’t finished processing the absolute filth that just came out of his mouth when his tongue met your clit. Like when he started on your nipples, his tongue was flat as it dragged slowly up your slit. You swear you’re so sensitive you can feel every ridge of every taste bud as he continues his slow lick.

And then the tip of his tongue is flicking upward, pushing your clit around in its hood. There’s no one else in the office, but you’re worried the moan you let out will reverberate off the walls for days, letting everyone know what you were doing in here with your boss.

He continues his assault with vigor. His tongue is everywhere, never staying in one place long enough to get used to it. He prods at your entrance, slipping just the tip of his tongue into your squeezing hole. Then he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, shaking his head back and forth, up and down as you come apart on the desk above him.

It’s all you can do to clutch onto his hair. He goes down to lick up the wetness creeping down, threatening to drip onto the desk, in the process catching the hooked tip of his nose on your sensitive button. One hand gripped the edge of the desk, the other holding him in place as you try not to cum immediately.

Hiromi could feel you holding back. “Don’t be stubborn,” he said, pulling away for a moment to kiss your thighs, smearing wetness all over them.

“You hurt my feelings,” you panted back. “Made me feel like I did something wrong. You’re going to have to work harder than that.”

In truth, you weren’t sure you could handle more before you imploded from pleasure. But the smirk he gave you from between your legs, the determination that hardened his eyes, they made you want to try to hold out just a little longer.

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a shrug.

His hands, which had been wrapped tenderly around your thighs as he devoured you, suddenly changed positions. He pushed one thigh open abruptly, spreading you for him even further. His other hand had come up to his mouth. He slowly put his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, withdrawing them and holding them up so you could admire the orange light reflecting off of his spit-slick fingers.

He kept his eyes fixed on yours as he lowered his fingers to your waiting pussy, burying them to the knuckle in your warmth. Your teeth sank into your lower lip, trying hard not to be the first to break eye contact. He moved his fingers in and out slowly a few times.

Suddenly he curved his fingers upward, pressing on a spongy spot that had you seeing stars. Your head shot back, eyes closed, arching into his touch. He chuckled before lowering his head again, sucking your clit into his mouth, fingers still assaulting you from the inside.

It was all too much. You tried to say his name, but all that came out was a broken cry as heat pooled in your belly. You felt like a star collapsing in on itself under its own weight, the overwhelming pleasure condensing into a single spot. And then, like all dying stars, you were reborn. The warmth spread back out to your limbs as you trembled against him, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he worked you through each wave of your orgasm.

When you were done, he removed his fingers, standing up to kiss you once again. His clean hand found the back of your head, urging you to taste yourself on his lips.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you panted raggedly, resting your forehead against his.

He nuzzled his nose gently against the side of yours. “Always happy to be of service.”

Having caught your breath, your hand reached down between his legs, eyebrows shooting up at the generous bulge. Experimentally, you rubbed his erection. He bucked his hips into your touch, groaning and clutching at your hips.

“It’s your turn,” you whisper seductively, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“I need to be inside you,” he said bluntly, desperation barely contained. “Please.”

“Then why are you still wearing those?”

He needed no further instruction, kicking his shoes off, along with his black pants and the underwear beneath.

“Oh my god,” you gasped involuntarily.

“What?” Hiromi asked with a frown, looking down at his exposed member. He examined it, wondering what was wrong.

“It’s… Hiromi, you’re beautiful,” you responded, eyes sparkling. Your tone was sincere, full of wonder. You felt lucky that you got to see him like that,l.

“Stop that,” he said. The sunset had now shifted to soft pink hues, making it impossible to tell if he was blushing.

“I mean it,” you insisted. You reached a hand out, taking hold of him and gently pulling him closer to you. He followed without complaint. There was a faint, wet squelch as his fat head slid against the wetness that had only grown between your legs, and you moaned in unison.

“Don’t tease,” he gasped.

You were rocking your hips shallowly, passing the sensitive underside of his tip over your clit over and over again. He bit down on the inside of his cheek hard, hoping the pain would distract him and keep him from spilling all over your mound. He couldn’t stand the embarrassment of cumming before he’d even gotten inside you.

“Need you, Hiromi. Please.” You pleaded with him as if it wasn’t your fingertips keeping him pressed against you just so, like you weren’t the one torturing both of you.

“C-condom?” He asked. Even as his hand batted yours away, lining himself up against you, his final neuron reminded him of the very real possibility of pregnancy and disease.

“I need to feel you,” you gasped. “Please. I have an IUD. I haven’t been with anyone since my last screening and it was clear. Hiromi I need you to fuck me right now, please, just-”

One second you were begging for him, the next you were so full you thought you might burst. He had seated himself inside of you in one fluid motion, his mouth and fingers having prepared the way. Even so, there was a foreign stretch, stinging and delicious, that you’d missed after all these months alone.

“Hiromi,” you whined, grabbing onto his arms. They were planted on the desk, supporting his weight as he tried to process the feeling of finally being inside of you. You looked down at where you met, the thick thatch of hair on his pelvis just pressing against your clit. You knew that if you rocked your hips just a little, you could grind on it and-

“Stop.” The word came out through gritted teeth. “Unless you want this to be over very quickly, just… give me a second.”

You warmed with pride at the reminder of what it was like to feel wanted. Maybe the light of the sinking sun had you seeing la vie en rose, but every part of Hiromi’s body showed how much he ached for you.

You saw it in the clenching muscle of his jaw, working overtime as he struggled to contain himself. You saw it in the indents in your thighs where his fingers dug in, desperate to keep a hold on you and his sanity. You saw it in his soft belly, tensing with the effort of keeping his hips still inside of you. To be so wholly desired by him after convincing yourself he hated you, it was almost better than any pleasure he could offer you.

And then he started moving his hips.

He started slowly at first, pulling out almost all the way and pushing back in. Like waves on the sea, his movements were steady and consistent. Each stroke came with a crash of hips, pleasure spreading over your bodies like fine ocean mist.

You looked up at him, kiss-bitten lips hanging wide in a soundless moan, too overwhelmed to even make a sound. Your eyes were big and wet, silently pleading with him to keep going. You spread your legs wider, bucking your hips up weakly against his, taking him even deeper.

Something in him snapped and he pushed all the way in, deeper than you even thought possible. From this position, he draped your legs over his arms, hands slipping around your back to hold you by your waist. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, holding yourself up for him. He gave your waist one last gentle squeeze before he started fucking you in earnest.

He was pistoning his hips against yours, in and out, in and out. He was only pulling back a few inches, but you were angled in such a way that every time he slammed back into you, he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. He pushed a series of staccato little moans out of you, or maybe it was one long moan broken up as he drove the air from your lungs with every snap of his hips.

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whined breathlessly, one hand coming between the two of you to play with your clit, hoping to get you the rest of the way there before he finished.

“I told you to let me take care of you,” he said in faux annoyance, batting your hand away. He licked his thumb, as though you were lacking in lubrication, and lowered it, drawing tight, fast circles against your clit.

Instantly you tightened around him, sucking him in even deeper as you moaned and writhed.

“Oh god. I’m gonna cum. Please come with me, Hiromi, please. Please.” You continued to babble as you finished, just barely keeping your eyes open long enough to watch Hiromi’s face as he followed you off the cliff. He pumped deep into you several more times, spilling his seed against your cervix, twitching over and over again until he was spent.

When he could think again, he pulled you close for a kiss, barely containing a hiss at the overstimulation at the movement. You kissed him back with teeth and tongue and passion.

“Still think I hate you?” He asked as he broke away, smiling in happiness and exhaustion.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” you replied with a sniff. “I think you still have to prove to me beyond a reasonable doubt that you like me.”

“I need a short recess, but I’m happy to give you another oral argument. Plead my case a little more.” He pulled out of you, ready to kneel again and clean up the mess he made. Anything to prove to you that he was serious.

“I think the defense also needs to rest,” you laughed, wiping sweat from your brow. “Can I ask one favor, though?”

“Absolutely anything,” he replied, planting several kisses on your forehead as you giggled.

“Can you give me a ride home? I know it’s out of your way, but I don’t really want to take public transportation like this.” You gestured down to your thighs, still sticky with your combined efforts, and your shorts, which would surely show such a wet stain. You smiled up at him bashfully, working your lip nervously between your teeth.

“I was offering to lick my cum out of you and you’re worried I’m going to say no to giving you a ride home because it’s a little out of my way?” He asked with a chuckle.

“On second thought, I’ll take my chances,” you responded, blushing furiously.

“Hey, come on. Surely you don’t still have doubts after what we just did?” He leaned in close again, pressing his lips to your forehead as you burned with embarrassment.

“Everything just changed so fast,” you murmured, closing your eyes and basking in his touch. “I don’t know what we are. I don’t want you to think you owe me anything.”

“I think at the very least I owe you a ride home and a warm meal,” he began, pulling away and producing a handkerchief from the inner pocked of his suit jacket. He wiped away the worst of the mess covering your inner thighs. He let himself be selfish, savoring the sight of his cum leaking out of you for a brief moment before continuing to dress you, pulling up your underwear and shorts with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.

He stepped aside to allow you to stand, folding the handkerchief and using the clean side to (begrudgingly) wipe away the remnants of your arousal that still stuck to his fingers and face. With clean hands, he pulled up his own pants, securing the buckle before turning to ask if you were ready to go.

The question died in his throat as he appraised you. Your hair was tousled, shirt still askew, and he could see the wet spot forming between your legs where he was dripping out of you. His cock sprang back to life at a speed he hadn’t known since he was much younger.

“I was serious, you know,” he said throatily, the sultry tone causing you to freeze in place. You looked at his face, then followed his eyes between your legs where the fabric darkened with moisture. “Let me clean you up before we go.”

“Hiromi,” you chastised him unconvincingly, your sore, sensitive cunt already pulsing again between your legs, begging you to give in to this wild man’s demands.

“Fine, fine,” he said sulkily, turning away from you to regain his composure. He knew his erection wouldn’t subside, not as long as you were within ten feet of him, but he could at least get himself a little more under control. He smoothed his hair back, keeping the tremor out of his voice through sheer willpower when he spoke again. “I would like to alter the list of things I owe you, though.”

“You don’t owe me anything, you silly man. I told you that,” you laughed, swatting at his arm as you passed him on the way to the door. “But go on.”

He grabbed your arm, turning you back toward him. In the same motion, he moved forward, pushing you back against the closed door. His chest was flush against yours, his still-hard cock pressing dangerously against your belly.

“I owe you a ride home.” He kissed your forehead. “I owe you a warm meal.” He kissed your cheek, then moved his lips next to your ear. “And I owe you at least one more orgasm.” He sunk his teeth into your earlobe, relishing then whine you couldn’t keep contained.

“Absolutely filthy,” you groaned, pressing the back of your head against the door. “No use arguing with a lawyer like you, I suppose?”

“None at all, I’m afraid,” he said with a genuine smile, pressing his lips to yours one final time before opening the door, taking your hand, and pulling you toward the elevator like a giddy schoolboy.

[denpadokei]

Overtly transfem song for Mizuki!

Before the ena5 hype dies down I would like you all to see one of the most mizuki songs ever. ONE THAT ISN’T DEPRESSING. find me a more mizuki coded song that is all so positive. I dare you.

Boku wa Karen na shoujo ni wa narenai . “I can’t become a pretty girl” HOLD ON it says the narrator became a girl at the end alright. Just look at this, courtesy of the harumaki Gohan wiki. It’s officially called “floret” in the English translation, but like, if you can’t go back to being a bud again you could be a floret. It’s got subs now >:) .

The flower thing is one of the main reasons I made this connection, and a floret is technically the name of a single bloom in a flower that is one of a cluster, (a florescence), like a hydrangea or an an allium. “I can’t be a floret” from the prospective of mizuki in the past is like her saying that she can’t transition and simultaneously remain social, have friends, be in a group. That is what seems to bother mizuki the most, moreso then being trans in the first place imo. A floret is inherently connected to the other florets of the flower head - she clearly needs people, people need her. But she’s not a floret, so she thinks, she’s her own isolated flower of transformation, in bake no hana it’s sung of with fear. Yet it isn’t just mizuki singing, I know the music isn’t cannon to that extent but we all know some stuff can’t really be a coincidence, like how mafuyu was given a line that might reference empurple. Say, the transformation flower was one with all of them as florets, they all undergo some form of transition and they all must have felt disgust, fear and confusion at those changes in their lives. And they all seem to be going through them different times, yet they’re still together as one beautiful flower. And to be honest everyone is part of that, everyone transforms, call it blooming or not. Maybe in ena5 mizuki has come to realise that, it seems to be the main point of the event. Togetherness. She was a floret all along. And she’ll be supported in that flower head of her and niigo and everyone who loves her, a flower head that is, even if far or different part of the same plant of humanity…

Also like, it is literally just “pretty girl” in Japanese. This song is transgender very clearly, I don’t think Harumaki Gohan identifies as a girl (I don’t think anyone knows really), it could be a metaphor, but I’m sure trans people could feel comforted by it. To imagine it as Mizuki is a lot more direct then in this event anyway, so I hope people who wanted that can have this to fuel their imagination. and it really fits the general vibes of this event, with flowers and petals blowing in the wind, white, etc.

No one fits this song more than Gohan himself, but I think the lines about another person’s hair got mizuki too. Whether that’s talking about ena or her sister, doesn’t really matter, but it’s especially nice since it looks like she got a hair cut that specifically references one of them in the new card. And like this event, it isn’t a perfect situation, but it’s going in a bright direction. Even if you can’t believe you are anything at the moment, you have this fully blossomed undying love for someone, which they share for you, so let that make you smile and keep you trying. You can do it mizuki.

There’s also a little reference to Hatsune Miku herself at the end of the second verse I’m pretty sure.

This song was released this year in February, and is sung by Gohan himself. I think it’s pretty underrated for how much I love it. Gohan is also the one who made empurple, it epic but as a hardcore Gohan fan I do not understand it. When the event was happening I know people were waiting for mizu5 too. I really do wish the commissions would have been the other way around, Gohan fits this whole thing like a glove. I have to keep saying Gohan because idk pronouns anymore. Please give this song a listen!

DAY ONE of posting harumaki Gohan things before Christmas!

[dedeinthewild]

paul aron x reader, bestfriends to lovers (one bed trope)

~ “Don’t turn this into one of those crappy films I hate.”

“I’m full to the brim,” Dino said, sitting on the couch of the house he had rented in Italy after eating the carbonara that Paul had decided to prepare with the girl sitting next to him.

“You’re always so dramatic, it was just a plate of pasta!” she scolded him, sitting on a stool and sipping from her glass.

“He lives off chicken and zucchini, so I’m not surprised,” Elvira laughed, clearing the table and tidying up from dinner with the Estonian, who was whistling a popular tune while loading the dishwasher.

That evening, the two Swedes had invited them over for dinner before they left the next day to visit their families, while Paul planned to go see his sister in Rome.

Paul and the other girl loved visiting Dino, even though she wasn’t a big fan of sleeping away from home and hated being an inconvenience. Somehow, every time they stayed over, they’d find themselves awake at two in the morning, revealing parts of themselves that never seemed to surface during the day when their brains were alert and logic prevailed.

“Just admit you love her cooking,” teased the blond as he washed his hands, wearing the slippers Dino had lent him.

“You can’t talk while wearing those,” retorted the DAMS driver, running his hands through his hair.

Paul scoffed, walking over to the two girls and noticing how late it had gotten. Since they had to wake up relatively early the next morning, he suggested they get ready for bed, stretching his arms to loosen his shoulders.

“You’re no fun,” his friend said, pouting playfully as he grabbed his backpack and asked her if she needed hers.

“The bathroom upstairs is yours,” Elvira said, addressing the two of them as she sprawled out on the couch next to Dino, who was idly fiddling with the TV remote.

So the Estonian and the girl climbed the spiral staircase leading to the loft where they’d be spending the night, walking past the hallway to reach the bathroom.

“You won’t freak out if I change in front of you, right?” he asked.

“I’ve seen your chest more often than my books,” she joked, setting her makeup bag on a small cabinet and standing in front of the large mirror.

The driver laughed, pulling off the black shirt he was wearing, leaving himself in just his sweatpants. He managed to get stuck in the neck of his t-shirt, flailing his arms as he freed himself, messing up his curls in the process. She shook her head slightly, amused, while she brushed her hair and tied it into a soft braid to protect it overnight.

“I love them,” she said, referring to Dino and Elvira.

“They’re a bit too ‘oh, she’s the love of my life’ if you ask me,” the blond said, imitating his former teammate’s voice from their Prema days.

“But they’re still cute.”

“Am I wrong, or are you softening up?” the Estonian asked, leaning against the wall behind her, crossing one arm over his chest while running some oil through his curls, which looked so soft they seemed to beg for her to run her hands through them.

“You can say it if you want a boyfriend; I can get to work.”

Paul always joked about that, threatening to use his connections and friends all over the world to find her someone who could make her feel loved. But she always maintained she was fine without it, didn’t want anyone, and was perfectly content with her life as it was.

“Stop it. I don’t want some stupid guy chasing after me,” she said, crossing her hands at the hem of her shirt, about to pull it off.

Paul turned around, giving her space, shoving his hands into his pockets as he thought.

“If anyone would, obviously,” she added, taking off her shirt and carefully folding it into her backpack.

“Even my brother would,” the driver joked, using the moment to swap out his sweatpants for a clean pair to sleep in.

“Was the pasta good?”

“Promise you’ll kill me if I ever say no,” the Estonian laughed, turning back only when he was sure she was dressed and comfortable. He looked at her reflection in the mirror, noticing how different she seemed without her glasses, her hair tied back softly, and her tired eyes revealing the end of a long day. She wore a faded, oversized pajama set that seemed to be the most comfortable thing Paul had ever seen, even though she was practically drowning in it.

“You should cook it for Karl sometime.”

“Estonia’s not exactly practical to get to,” she smiled, picking up Paul’s shirt that he’d abandoned on a chair.

“Do they allow dishes on planes?”

“I’ve never tried sneaking my grandma’s lasagna onto a Ryanair flight.”

He smiled at her, grabbing his toothbrush from the glass where he’d left it the night before when he arrived alone, hours before she joined them that afternoon.

In doing so, he leaned against the sink, brushing past her back slightly before sitting on the closed toilet lid to brush his teeth.

“What?” she asked, turning toward him, her voice muffled by toothpaste foam.

“Nothing,” he replied, looking at her through his blond curls. “You look like a gnome.”

“Screw you!”

But then she looked down, noticing the heap of fabric pooling around her ankles, covering part of the slippers she had hastily grabbed from home before catching the train.

“Shut up,” she said, turning back to rinse her mouth while Paul laughed like an idiot.

“Are you ready?” The Estonian dressed and headed for the bathroom door, watching her as she organized her things and hummed the tune he’d been whistling earlier.

“Let’s go,” she smiled, feeling refreshed.

But when they reached the loft bedroom, a surprise awaited them.

“Do you seriously want us to sleep in a double bed?” they both asked in unison, leaning on the railing and looking down at the couple watching a TV show on the couch below.

“I figured you’d be comfortable,” Dino replied, hands clasped behind his head.

“Maybe if you’d asked first,” Paul said, worried that she wouldn’t feel comfortable sharing a bed with him.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged, putting her makeup bag and other belongings into her backpack, which she left in a corner of the room.

Paul turned, pleasantly surprised, offering a sweet smile. His short sleeves covered part of his toned biceps.

“Are you sure? I could sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t turn this into one of those crappy films I hate.”

“We’ve got a higher budget,” the driver joked, staying beside the bed.

“Can I sleep by the window?” she asked, biting the inside of her cheek as she looked into his striking blue eyes.

“Are doors scary for you?” he teased, climbing onto the side of the bed she didn’t want.

“None of your damn business, Barbie,” she shot back.

They settled in, plugging in their phones and arranging the pillows to get comfortable, noticing how much the bed felt like a cozy den.

“Don’t snore,” Paul said, turning onto his side, thinking she might want to sleep back-to-back to maintain a bit of distance.

She yawned, rubbing her eyes. “I could talk, but I don’t usually snore,” she smiled, brushing short strands of hair away from her face as she turned toward the driver and touched his arm to make him roll over.

“Talk?”

“Forget I said anything.”

“I wanted to play cards, but this bed is making me sleepy,” the Estonian whispered, watching her pinch her arm beneath the pillow while propping her head up with the other hand.

“Right?” she agreed, finding the warmth, the fabric softener’s scent, and the idea of waking up to breakfast with her friends lulling her eyelids shut.

“If you’re a good sleep buddy, I might bring you to Abu Dhabi,” Paul said as if he didn’t already have the tickets and passes ready on his computer.

“I can’t,” she chuckled.

“After a night of sleeping next to me, you will,” he replied, sweetly closing his eyes as he reached out to turn off the light. A few cookies dipped in milk, an avocado toast. Her body near his, carrying that unmistakable scent her skin took on from the perfume her mother had gifted her.

“Good night,” she said, adjusting herself one last time.

“Sleep well,” he smiled, his mind already clouded by sleep.

“And you were the one who wanted to play. God, you’re like a baby,” she teased.

“Shut up and sleep,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest so she could feel the soft fabric of his pajamas and tangle her legs with his athletic ones.

A croissant, a nice cup of honey tea.

Paul’s hands on her back, covering entire portions, and his arm holding her shoulder and face as if to protect her.

Dino and Elvira had planned it perfectly.

Because between one caress and the next, that night would not be easily forgotten.

~ not proofread or anything, but it's just out of my need of having a Paul, and I wanted you to read it as well :)

(I'm so so happy for his first win I'm becoming annoying)

[ssruis]

Spoilers (with little context, from what im pretty sure is a machine TL doc, please for the love of god take none of this as solid facts)

Ena constantly blaming herself and wondering what would have happened if she was more prepared, or if kanade or mafuyu had been there instead… Ena acknowledging that it *would* be something she was always aware of, and that she knows that would hurt mizuki but she doesn’t know if her desire to maintain their friendship would hurt mizuki… ouuuhhhhg

Akito nice brother moments

Mizuki is still skipping. I was right about akito putting ena in contact with an, but not about how rui gets involved. I thought an would point mizuki to rui, but he just kinda. Shows up. Hi buddy nice to see you. “Oh hello shinonome-san” this fucker loves just walking up to people doesn’t he.

I love that mizuki is still speaking to an ohhh i love the mizuan bond

As I’d expected, mizuki didn’t tell rui about what happened. I’m glad Rui was able to give ena advice and listen to her though.

Sigh. Kicks rock. Another sigh. You knew this would happen im wxs pilled. let’s just get it out of the way.

1) mizuena rks parallels once again. You love to see it.

2) he’s either talking about wxs as a group or, more likely (imo, just given the fact that tsukasa was the one chasing rui down because he was the one who fucked up, and demanding he rejoin), tsukasa himself. Which is so… kamishiro rui. I don’t like you.

3) im not mad if hes talking about wxs as a group though. He loves his friends. Smiles serenely.

Ok im done now.

“I’m sure mizuki wanted a future with you all in it” kms kms kms

Kanade good friend moments. Also mafuyu good friend moments even if saying “it’d be a problem for me too if mizuki stopped showing up” is the funniest possible way to show it.

Wow niigo kaito participating out of his own will. Shock and awe.

Really love how ena was so careful with not wanting an to mention her name, because she doesn’t want mizuki to stop talking to the one person she’s still speaking with

“I don’t want to live but I don’t have the courage to disappear” Jesus fucking Christ. Ohhhhh mizuki :(((

Niigo collectively searching for mizuki… they love her so much…

“She’ll take supplementary classes to avoid failing the year bc she doesn’t want to inconvenience anyone” ohhhuhhh. 1) thank you touya. You snitch. (Fond) 2) mizukiiiiiii :(((((

ENNAAAAA AUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (agonized wailing)

“You’ve always been you to me” AUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Doc cuts off here. im assuming there’s more given what I’ve seen from card stories. <- edit I lied that’s it. Card stories give more info/continue the story a bit.

[mar-the-magician]

I have a project I want to make, and Tumblr is really the only platform I have but— I haven’t used it in such a long time. And basically no-one keeps up with my blog anymore. So I am going to attempt to post regularly again, or at least a little reblog every day. If anyone’s interest is piqued, do let me know! ;)

[sevenines]

i saw this tweet and found it interesting for two reasons. one is that some people base how good cartoon network would be to toh by how it treated su, and despite the fact that su’s treatment by the network was considered poor at the time, now its thought to be exceptionally good in comparison to modern shows.

two is how exactly su got impacted by a limited budget. a common criticism is how characters like connie, peridot, and lapis are left out of missions. but balancing a lot of characters is not only hard but also costly (extra animation, extra voices—it’s been revealed that the show is limited to a set number of characters per episode otherwise they’re over budget). animation mistakes are not uncommon since retakes cost extra. the entire reason the original show got cut short was due to loss of funding!

[sydchan]

I don’t think you all realize how many times I’ve had to hold myself back from going on a long rant about the age gap N and Hilbert allegedly have according to Bulbapedia (just so you all know, I stand on the freak side of things, I genuinely would still ship them if the Pokemon company swore they were 14 and 20). It’s just narratively this is nonsense and does not fit and Word Of God means nothing when compared to source material so 16 and 18 makes way more sense. But again…not worth rambling about. One thing I will say is while I can kind of buy N as 20 (21 would make more sense as the next age milestone after 18 he might have been coronated at, but I guess 20 is from when you’re an adult in Japan?) it’s honestly Hilbert as 14 that grinds my gears more. Like why does Bulbapedia say he’s 14 and then within the trivia section of that very page, mention that interviews say he and Hilda were designed as 16. Like at least list 14-16 as the age range??? Like bruh, why is it not a range????? 16 is clearly one of the correct interpretation of his age. Constantly perplexed by this.

The damage Bulbapedia has done cause fools won’t play the source material and come to their own conclusions….

Like I guess if one wishes to assume Hilbert is younger than the game implies and N is older than the game implies have at it. You do you. But it’s such a bizarre shift to see in how the ship is viewed.