#and there's literally no heating nor a restroom in there

[zevrans-remade]

i'm having a very strong urge to play the sims 2/the sims 3 rn ngl 😮‍💨

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | six. (final)

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 7.5k

—content/chapter warning: cussing/mature language, a slight hint of jealousy, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), making out, dry humping, breast/nipple play, couple of flashback scenes lol, nothing but good times with the friends and fam!! hopefully a sweet way to wrap this up 🥰

—a/n: we've reached the end! tysm for the love and support on this one <33 i'll be posting an update on upcoming fics soon so stay tuned!! you're gonna wanna see what's coming next 🤪

♡ 1.5 YEARS LATER ;

"Seonghwa—fuck—" Your back slightly arches as your hand grips Seonghwa's luscious black hair tighter, pleasure surging through you as he continues to lap at your clit. "Y-you're gonna be late—"

"What's a couple minutes?" He mutters in between, hands gripping your thighs and keeping you wide open for him. You work your hips against his mouth, edging yourself closer and closer to the edge until you finally feel your orgasm wash over you. Seonghwa keeps himself in between your thighs as you writhe and tremble under his grip, letting out soft moans and curses that you try to muffle by throwing a hand over your mouth. "Quiet, baby. That's it." You hear Seonghwa say from beneath the sheets.

"Oh my god." You whine a bit, chest rising up and down as you try to collect yourself. Seonghwa pokes his head out from under the covers with a shit-eating smirk, planting kisses all over your arms, neck, jaw.

Cheeks.

Lips.

"You're gonna be so fucking late."

"And?" He kisses you again.

"Director Shin is gonna kill you." You giggle into the kiss and he rolls his eyes.

"I'll take the heat for it, was all worth it anyway." He hops out of the bed to quickly wash up and change before grabbing his duffle bag.

"I can't believe you literally did that as you were about to walk out."

"Couldn't leave my baby high and dry." Seonghwa smiles. "Anyway, see you later at the game?" You nod.

"Punk." You tease and he laughs before waving you off.

"I love you too, brat." You giggle as you retreat under the sheets, snuggling in for a bit more sleep. You give yourself another two hours or so before you fully wake up and toss the sheets off, stepping into the bathroom for a piping hot shower. You rummage through some of your clothes in your half of the shared walk-in closet, throwing on a simple outfit for today's game: denim mom shorts, a white tee, black and white sambas. You toss on a simple black belt you were able to find before walking through a cloud of perfume and heading out of the door.

When you head downstairs, Yaya is already out of her room and organizing in the kitchen. She has breakfast made, which you're sure she had packed some away for Seonghwa to take on the go. Moving into your newly built 4-bedroom house, Seonghwa made sure to prioritize Yaya's needs first and foremost. The house was beautiful and modern, sleek accents to add a simple but powerful touch to all corners of the home. He suggested for Yaya to take the first floor bedroom near the kitchen, in which she'd also have her own restroom. Her knees hadn't been kind to her lately, and Seonghwa didn't want her climbing up and down too many stairs— nor did he want a house where he'd stick her in a downstairs in-law. As much as Yaya had taken care of the both of you and been there for you throughout your lives, he wanted to keep her close and he wanted to do the same. He never wanted her to feel isolated or like she was a chore, because she was more than that to the both of you. 

A loving guardian, family.

Seonghwa helped Yaya get settled first, helping her arrange and fix things around so she could get comfortable. The house was pretty much close to being done, besides the fact that you still had to go through a few more of your things and toss out unwanted items, plus buy a bit more decor for the guest bedroom. The smallest room was turned into an office and library space, with Seonghwa's prized possessions sitting in glass display cabinets [aka his completed lego sets and figurines]; showcasing it to whoever walked into the room. You had been picking up reading again, so Seonghwa made sure to give you a little couch in there for you to get comfortable on during the days you needed your alone time or just wanted to read in peace. He also managed to stash some smaller lego sets and other toys off to the side for when Charli comes and sleeps over. Anything to take care of his favorite ladies.

Everything just felt perfect, for lack of a better word. You didn't know how else to explain it. It was just perfect.

The idea of moving in together didn't take long to come after you and Seonghwa had become official— it came more so out of the frustration and annoyance of having to leave each other after certain nights. Packing up more things just to stay at each other's homes again. Repeating the cycle, getting more attached and hating the distance. When you had finally brought it up to Hwa, the decision came easy. It was the easiest thing you both have decided on, though the journey to finding the right house wasn't as easy. Yaya had come along to all the countless tours of homes, leaving the decision up to you two. But, Seonghwa was never satisfied. For awhile, none of them seemed to fit what he was looking for. You could have been settled on a few homes earlier on, but he didn't think they were a fit for you, for Yaya. He wanted something that felt natural, that felt like home, a safe-space, full of light; he was almost losing hope when he realized the houses you were seeing just didn't click with him. The realtor finally took you a ways out of town to an area where newly-built homes were rising and you could see the sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes when he walked through the model homes. He had asked his questions, made a few suggestions, and before you knew it, you were head deep into the home buying process.

It was long. Grueling. Seonghwa would have to tack on another 15 minutes to his drive to work, with you also having quite the journey to the restaurant. But in the end, it was all worth it. It will always be worth it. Now, you have Seonghwa and Yaya in one place. Work isn't too far. Friends aren't too far. Soyeon, Junseo and Charli come over often.

It was perfect.

"Make sure you eat something before you go." Yaya hands you a plate. "Soyeon and Charli are coming, right?" You nod.

"Mhm. Should be on their way soon." You gather some food onto your plate before settling down on the bar stool by the island. "Did Hwa eat?"

"Packed him some food and handed it to him as he was heading out. I told him he has to eat! Long day ahead with it being the first game of the season, right?"

"Mmyeah. He's probably not gonna come home until later tonight."

"Are you guys still going to do the party for your birthday tomorrow?"

"Yes." You laugh. "Sorry Yaya, it's gonna be a full house tomorrow night. Charli, Soyeon and Junseo are staying in the guest room, and I think the boys wanna stay over."

"The more, the merrier." She smiles with a wink. At this point, you hear Soyeon and Charli from the driveway, Charli barreling in as she runs straight to you and Yaya.

"God, I love this house." Soyeon looks around, still getting used to the new home. "Mm, smells good!"

"You guys should eat before going."

"We ate at home, Yaya. Thank you, though!" You finish up your food and wash your plate, drying your hands on the hand towel hanging near the edge of the sink. 

"Let me just grab my stuff upstairs." You run upstairs to grab your mini puff tote and sling the strap over your shoulders, snatching your keys off of the drawer before shutting the door close and heading out to your car. You help Soyeon strap in Charli's car seat before settling her in, slipping into the driver's seat once everything is all good to go. You and Soyeon talk about tomorrow's party, and how Junseo and Yoongi are slowly starting to prepare for all the catering. The restaurant is set to close for the weekend due to 'special events,' also giving Junseo, Jini and Yoongi a break from holding down the fort and all the prep they're doing for the party. Soyeon tells you she has a friend who offered to graciously make a cute backdrop with balloons, along with a few decorations to place around the backyard. She asks you what you bought Seonghwa for his birthday present, and you tell her that you got your hands on the watch he had been eyeing for months, and a few shirts you knew he'd like. As bestfriends, you and Seonghwa weren't big on giving each other presents outside of a tradition you started in high school. If there was something either of you really wanted around your birthdays, you would get those gifts to make each other happy; other than that though, it wasn't a big deal.

But now, as your boyfriend, you always wanted to spoil Seonghwa. In so many ways. Even if it didn't sound like much, you knew he'd be happy cause they were things he liked. All you wanted was for Seonghwa to be happy, especially with the way he constantly takes good care of you and your family.

Pulling into the lot of the school, you easily slip into a parking spot near the stadium's entrance. There are waves of people walking inside, all sporting the universities' merch in one way or another. The three of you breeze through security and flash your tickets, heading towards a section behind Seonghwa and Wooyoung's team— finding seats that aren't too high up, but not too close either. Once you and Charli are settled, Soyeon runs down to grab a few snacks for you guys to munch on during the game; hauling up nachos and a pretzel with a large drink to share. For a minute, you and Soyeon are back to discussing the party when she asks about your outfit for tomorrow's festivities and if Seonghwa has gotten the rest of the stuff together.

"Yeah, he has. He took care of literally everything else. I didn't have to move a damn inch." Soyeon laughs.

"Hwa's the best." She pauses before suddenly asking: "Why don't you two just get married already? Elope or whatever." The question catches you off guard because you're not sure where this is coming from. Although, you had been thinking about marriage and everything around it lately. It's not that you weren't ready— you truthfully do want to be with Seonghwa for the rest of your life, and you don't see it any other way. You just weren't sure if he was ready or if he was even thinking of it that way. You felt like it might be too early for him, which could be true. You were willing to wait for the right time, whenever that was. All you know is that Seonghwa is your person, and there's nothing else that comes close.

"Wow. That's surprising coming from you."

"I mean, is it?" You give her a look. "I'm kidding." She makes an animated face and pokes her tongue out at you. "Not really, though. I just like seeing you two happy together. You guys just complete each other. Ever since you were young."

"It'll happen when it'll happen." You say softly. "I'd definitely want a big, grand wedding. I wanna go through the motions of everything." Soyeon nibbles on her bottom lip to prevent a smile from forming.

"With him?" You softly smile.

"Yeah. If that's where it leads us."

"If." She laughs. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that man has been set on you for a long time or else he wouldn't have moved into a house with you and Yaya." 

"Gonna let it play out how it should, you know? Let it happen naturally and when the time is right." You look out onto the field as the teams start huddling up and getting ready for the first game of the season. You catch Seonghwa talking to Makayla on the sidelines, and although you aren't exactly insecure about the whole thing, it does make you a tiny bit jealous that he's giving her attention the way he is. He's smiling from ear to ear, laughing at the conversation and being super friendly— you wouldn't really put it past him, it's how Seonghwa is. It's how he's always been. But having him in your life as your boyfriend, as your man, as yours, you're experiencing new feelings you haven't exactly worked through before.

"Conversation must be funny as hell." You meant to say this to yourself, but you obviously fail and Soyeon catches on while Charli is bouncing up and down on her legs.

"Aw, you're jealous. How cute." She pinches your cheeks and you gently smack her hand away [respectfully]. "Are you still weirded out by it?"

"Uh, no. I don't think so? I don't care if they're friends, I just—"

"Want all the attention on you." You pout a bit. "Yeah, you two are definitely getting married. I better be the first to know when you're pregnant."

"Can we not!" At this point, the game is finally starting, with Charli calling out to her Uncle Hwa as if he's playing in the game. You watch as he says his goodbyes to Makayla, stepping off to the side with Wooyung as they watch the game from the sidelines and keep an eye out for any injuries that occur on the field. It's not the first time you've seen your man in action, but every time always feels like the first because you find yourself completely in awe with Seonghwa. Now, you can add the bonus of feeling head over heels and completely smitten over your man. You knew how hard Hwa studied and how hard he worked to get to where he was at today. It continues to pay off for him, and you love seeing him happy doing what he does. It's clear him and Wooyoung are incredibly valued on the team, and nothing makes you happier to see that.

They deserved it.

Throughout the game, Seonghwa and Wooyoung are having to rush to the sides of a few players when they get hurt. Of the few, two players had to be escorted to the locker rooms and sat out for the rest of the game. That's when Seonghwa disappears for awhile to tend to the players resting in the locker room. You assume he's making sure they're okay every step of the way, already getting started on rehabilitating to get them back into tip-top shape.

While Seonghwa is gone, you continue to watch the game with Soyeon and Charli. You look around the crowd, your eyes falling onto Makayla just as she does the same and meets your eye contact. She doesn't do much besides give you a tiny, pursed smile, and although Seonghwa says she's friendly— her look makes you feel like she has some lingering feelings for Seonghwa, or feels a bit defeated after everything that's happened.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when the crowd goes wild, with Charli yelling along. You realize that the game is over, and that the university won their first game against one of their biggest rivals— giving them a good boost for the start of the season. You, Soyeon and Charli head down near the rails, high-fiving a few of the team as they make their way back into the locker room. 

"Baby girls!" Wooyoung yells as crouches and holds his arms open for Charli. She runs into them, allowing Woo to swing her around and make her loudly giggle.

"Goodjob out there, Woo." Soyeon pats his head.

"I looked good out there, huh?" Soyeon rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Locker room. I'm sure he'll come out in a bit—" 

"Boo!" Seonghwa says, startling Charli in Wooyoung's arms. She screams, but instantly giggles when she realizes it's her favorite Uncle Hwa. "Talking about me, I see."

"Trust me, we weren't. You're not that big of a deal." Seonghwa rolls his eyes before making his way over to you.

"Hi." He throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close.

"Hey."

"You should head home soon with Soyeon and Chacha."

"I know, we will. What time are you gonna get back?"

"Probably not for another couple of hours or so. Gotta debrief and clean up, put in some recovery time with the team."

"Hm." You hum with a small frown. 

"I'll be home soon enough, baby. Let me know if you or Yaya need me to pick anything up before I go home, okay?"

"I will." You step back and cross your arms before titling your head back up at him. "Saw you talking to Makayla earlier."

"Oh?" He smirks. "Are you jealous?"

"No." You glare at him, causing him to gently cup you by the jaw and bite his bottom lip.

"You're hella cute." 

"Fuck off, Seonghwa. You're not funny." You pout, and he laughs.

"I'm not? What can I do to make it up to you then, hm?" He smirks, making you gently shove him away by the chest.

"Anyway. You two ready to go?" Soyeon nods.

"Gotta make it in time to have dinner with daddy. Huh, Chacha?" She squeezes her tiny hand. "Go say bye to your uncles. Tell them you'll see them tomorrow." And so Charli does just that, hugging her uncles goodbye and telling them she'll see them tomorrow at the party. 

When you finally split ways from Seonghwa and Wooyoung, the three of you rush back into the car and safely hurry on home so Soyeon and Charli can make it back in time for dinner with Junseo. Yaya is already cooking some dinner by the time you settle back into your pajamas, letting her know that Seonghwa probably isn't gonna be home for awhile. You settle on the couch with her once she finishes cooking, eating up a good, heart bowl of curry while watching one of her current drama obsessions. 

It's not until close to 8pm when you hear the garage open. Seonghwa takes a minute to park, get himself together and head into the house. As soon as he does, you instantly run into his arms and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and kissing him on the lips.

"You took so long." You pout.

"Sorry, baby." He brushes your hair away from your face. "I had a lot to do. But, I'm here now, yeah? Got your ice cream that you asked for." He holds up the grocery bag. You squeal and thank him before letting go to indulge in the rocky road ice cream you had been craving, while he greets Yaya and helps her in the kitchen. Seonghwa was done with work about an hour and a half ago, but he needed to stop by the store to get a few last minute things for tonight's and tomorrow's festivities.

He takes a shower and gets comfortable before plopping on the couch next to you and gobbling up the bowl Yaya prepared for him. You cuddle up to him while Yaya sits on the other end of the couch, retreating into her room closer to 10:30pm. You and Seonghwa clean up your remaining bowls before getting ready for the evening and settling in bed.

"Fuck." Seonghwa lets out a hefty sigh, curling up to him again while he flips through the movie selections. "So tired."

"I bet."

"Trying to stay up though, you know why?" He smiles and taps the tip of your nose.  "It's someone's birthday soon."

"Someone, hm?" You giggle and he kisses your forehead

"Someone special, yeah."

"It's your birthday soon, too."

"Mm, but it's yours first, love. Always you first." He says lovingly, holding you close to him as you rest on his chest and wrap your arm around his waist. He puts on an apocalyptic, zombie movie— you can't recall the name because you feel the exhaustion hit you out of nowhere. The movie begins and Seonghwa adjusts his position while you continue to cling onto him. It doesn't take long before you feel your eyes getting heavy even though you tried your hardest to stay up and keep up with your usual tradition with Seonghwa.

But, you were tired.

It feels like you were asleep for awhile, maybe a good couple of hours, when in reality it was only an hour. You feel Seonghwa gently dip out of bed, but you're too tired to think much of it. You continue to sleep until you feel Seonghwa waking you up, softly speaking to you as your eyes flutter open again.

"Baby." He gently shakes you awake as he sits on the edge of the bed. He smiles brightly when you sit up and rub at your eyes, running your hand through your hair as you finally feel more alert. "Happy birthday, beautiful." You look at the plate in hand and realize it's a huge Cinnabon with a Kuromi figurine near the candle. Sitting on the nightstand is a bouquet of those pretty lavender-colored roses you were eyeing at the farmer's market the other weekend. You giggle before turning towards the nightstand on your bed, grabbing the small container with a cupcake in the drawer.

"Happy soon-to-be-birthday, Hwa." You say cutely as you pop open the lid and show him the cupcake with Isabelle's face [from Animal Crossing] in fondant sitting on top. His eyes crinkle in adoration while watching you take the candle on top, and use the already-lit candle on your cinnabon to light the wick. You both laugh together while taking in your cakes for this year's birthdays, your traditions never getting old.

♡ FLASHBACK | HIGH SCHOOL

"Okay. One— two—"

"Three!" You both exclaim as you turn around and show each other your cakes for the year. You laugh when you see a stack of pancakes with a single candle on top, while Seonghwa follows suit seeing your cupcake with a lego wall built around it. 

"No way you actually built a lego fence around the cupcake."

"Bruh. Of course. I had to. Look at your fucking pile of legos lately!" You point to the corner of his room.

"Aw, you actually took the time to build it, though."

"Actually, I went to the lego store, picked these specific legos out, bought it then built it." Seonghwa pinches your cheeks.

"You're the best."

"I try." You laugh. "The pancakes?!"

"Not just any pancakes! I went through hell and back to find a fucking box of mochi pancakes for you. I know you've been dying to have them. I had to drive to the opposite end of town just to find these!" Seonghwa laughs. "I hope you feel special because that drive gave me anxiety." You smile, knowing Seonghwa had just gotten his license last week. 

"Thank you, pichu. I love it." You edge your cupcake towards him. "Do you like yours?"

"Of course I do. It's really thoughtful. Thank you, Y/N."  He smiles softly. "Should we make a wish?"

"Yeah." You both shut your eyes and make your wishes, both not knowing what the other wished for in fear of it not coming true. When you pop your eyes back open, Seonghwa is patiently waiting with a tiny, toothless smile. The both of you blow your candles out at the same time before sitting down on the floor and tasting each other's 'cakes' despite it being a bit past midnight.

♡ END

"No way." Seonghwa continues to laugh.

"You and your Animal Crossing obsession lately." You tap his nose.

"You and your Cinnabon cravings lately." You giggle.

"That shit is good. I missed it. I can't believe I haven't had it in so long." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb. "Thank you, Hwa."

"No, thank you." He stares a bit before licking his lips. "Let's make a wish?" You nod. The both of you shut your eyes, Seonghwa being the first to pop his eyes open again. He looks at you with so much love, so much adoration, so much appreciation; he truly doesn't know what his life would be like without you. When you finally open your eyes, you both blow out your candles, the smoke filling the dark room as you two sit and enjoy each other's presence.

"I love you." You look at him with a certain look in your eye that gives Seonghwa a hard time keeping himself composed. He gently sets the plate and the cupcake down on the other side of the night stand, roses now hanging over the edge before he cups your cheeks and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." He whispers, thumb caressing at the surface of your right cheek. "Happy birthday again, sweet girl. Are you happy?"

"I am. Are you?"

"Couldn't be happier." You smile just as he dips forward to lock you into another kiss, this time more heated, more intense. "So, tell me." He says in between kisses, pulling you onto his lap by the hips when he lays back against the headboard. "Were you jealous earlier?" 

"No." You lie. "Not at all."

"Not at all, hm?" He hums, his large, smooth hands roaming up your [his] shirt, thumbs brushing over your perked buds. You let out a small gasp, head tilting back as you slowly work yourself against the bulge forming in his shorts. "Then what was the attitude about?" He bites onto his bottom lip, one hand now resting on your hip to continue guiding you along his hard dick. 

"Just want you to myself, Hwa." You whine, frustration aimed at the material blocking you from feeling him completely. Raw.

"You have me all to yourself, Y/N." He gently nips at your jaw before drawing his tongue down the column of your throat and kissing you in all the right places. He sucks on the surface, just enough for you to feel it but not leave any marks due to the important festivities happening in a few hours. You feel the pleasure bubbling at the heart of your core; your need, want, for Seonghwa building and constantly intensifying. 

"Need you." You let out against his lips before locking them into a deep kiss. He's quick to help you out of your panties, quick to shove his shorts and his boxers down enough for you to work your ways on him. You instantly line him up at your entrance, wasting no time to slide down his length. The pace is slow at first, until you adjust. Seonghwa tilts his head back in pleasure before lifting your shirt up and taking a nipple into his mouth. He groans against your flesh, hand now gripping harder on your hips to push you to ride him faster. "Oh— Seonghwa—" You softly choke out, feeling him take the other nipple into his mouth; working his tongue in circular motions before pulling back with a pop.

"Fuck—" He hisses and lets out a deep moan. "Just like that, baby." He praises you as you pick up your pace just like he had been hinting. "You always know how to ride this dick so well." He leaves wet kisses along the base of your neck. Right below your earlobe. Your throat. 

You release a moan in between your soft whimpers while you continue to roll your hips against him and tug on his long hair. He praises and praises, your mouth is slacked open against his as you swirl your hips.

My pretty baby.

So perfect.

Made for me.

"Gonna cum." You manage to whisper as you fuck him at a sloppier pace, adding a slight bounce to continue pushing yourself over the edge. Just as your coil is about to snap, you dig your head into the crook of his neck when your orgasm washes over you— legs suddenly feeling weak and like jello as you muffle your moans against Seonghwa. 

"That's it, love— shit. Gonna make me—" He groans at the feeling of your walls squeezing all around him. You feel him hold you up and snap into you before letting himself go and coating your walls white. "God damn." He pants, adding a little whine when he starts to feel sensitive post-nut. You slowly shift in your position to look at him, giving him repeated, tender kisses on the lips while he keeps himself inside of you. "Let's go get cleaned up." He says with a dazed smile, tapping you on your side. The both of you head to the bathroom to clean up before heading back to bed and enjoying your cakes in the middle of the night, just like you used to.

The next day comes, and it's immediately a whirlwind from the moment you wake up. When you turn over to try and cuddle up to Seonghwa, you find that his side of the bed is completely empty and cold. You hear his voice echoing in the kitchen downstairs though, so it puts you at ease— until you hear the rest of the boys rush into the house way earlier than expected. You shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower, throwing on your two piece set consisting of a maxi skirt and a matching spaghetti-strapped crop top. You blow dry your hair and quickly curl it into some loose waves before focusing on adding light makeup.

"Baby." You hear Seonghwa knock on the door before poking his head into the room. "You're decent, right?"

"Uh huh!" You yell before you hear multiple voices enter the room and echo into your master bathroom.

"This fucking bathroom!" Wooyoung steps in and smiles when he sees you fixing your brows. "And it comes with a pretty girl!"

"Hands off the pretty girl, she's mine." Seonghwa calls out. You giggle and hug Wooyoung before setting your makeup down and saying hello to the rest of the boys outside in the room. 

"Sorry, I didn't fix the bed yet." You start fixing the sheets while Hongjoong and San stand at the foot of the bed with Seonghwa. Not much has changed with your friends besides the fact that San has started seeing someone fairly recently. It's a new, blossoming relationship, and you have yet to meet her. He's still shy about it, but you can tell he's genuinely happy and that's all you've ever wanted for him, your friends. Though, Hongjoong and Wooyoung [especially Wooyoung] were still into the casual dating scene. They didn't seem to have any complaints about how things were going, so as long as they were okay [and not being completely dicks], you were okay.

"This is a nice ass house." Hongjoong looks around the room. "Can you buy me one, too?" 

"I'm pretty sure you can definitely afford one for yourself." Seonghwa gives him a look before he shifts his attention to his phone ringing in his pocket. He quickly excuses himself to the side, while you continue to chat with the other boys and fix around the room. "I'm gonna head downstairs, the decorator is here." Seonghwa pops his head in.

"Oh, is Soyeon here? I can come!"

"It's okay, finish getting ready. I'll take care of it. She's on her way still." You nod, retreating to the restroom while the other boys continue to look around your room, the guest room and the office. Seonghwa races downstairs and opens the side door to the backyard for the decorator. Soyeon is here, but alone, and already helping her friend carry some props into the yard.

"Hey! Is Y/N still getting ready?" Soyeon hugs Hwa and he nods.

"Yeah, the boys kinda rushed in and interrupted."

"Well, perfect timing, I guess, hm?" She smirks. "Ready for today?"

"I think?" She laughs and rubs her hand up and down his arm to ease his nerves.

"It'll all go well. Promise. Don't even worry about it."

"Thanks." He looks at the van pulled up to the side. "Let me help." He introduces himself to her friend and their partner as he does a light jog to the van and starts helping unload. Seonghwa and Soyeon had actually planned the decorations out together, with Seonghwa requesting a few extra details to help the day go as planned.

♡ FLASHBACK | A FEW WEEKS AGO

"Seonghwa!" Junseo smiles. "My brother, what's up!" Seonghwa gives him a good dap as he walks into the restaurant and sits at the bar. "I'm assuming you're here for Soyeon since Y/N isn't here." He nods.

"Yeah. Well, I wanted to talk to the both of you. Is she busy?"

"No, let me grab her from the back."

"Thanks." Seonghwa throws a small wave to Yoongi and Jini as they pass, his knee bouncing up and down while waiting for Soyeon to come. She appears from the back within the next 5 minutes, tying her apron from behind.

"Hwa! What's up? How can I help?" She smiles and plops next to him on the free seat.

"I need some advice."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. At all." He sighs. "I just need to know if I'm doing this right, so please be honest." Junseo tilts his head and cocks a brow up. "Is there ever such a thing as too early?"

"Under what circumstances?" Soyeon already knows where this is going, but she needs Seonghwa to confirm before she jumps the gun.

"You know." His big eyes shoot from Junseo to Soyeon.

"Marriage?" He quietly nods. "Oh my god, Seonghwa! Never! Are you thinking about asking Y/N?!" She excitedly asks. "Stop you're gonna make me cry!" Seonghwa nervously chuckles.

"Y-yeah, I want to, but if it's too early then maybe I should—"

"Hey. No such thing!" She calms him down and puts her hands on his shoulders. "Especially for you two? Definitely no such thing."

"I just—" He shrugs. "My life is her. I can't see my life without her. I haven't been able to and I don't want to. She's it for me."

"Seonghwa." Junseo smiles. "When you know, you know." Soyeon nods in agreement.

"So, have you been thinking about it for awhile?"

"Yeah. I wanna ask her. I don't think I'm good at planning these kinds of things, though. I want it to be perfect for her."

"Of course. Trust me, no one ever feels ready even though you know for sure this is what you want. It's a big moment." Soyeon leans her head on his shoulder as she pulls him in for a quick hug. "We'll help. When did you wanna do it?"

"Our birthday and house-warming party." Junseo nods.

"I know a friend who can help with decorations and stuff. We can plan that out with her and get the things you need."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course!" She smiles widely, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Oh my god, I'm gonna cry! This is so cute, she's gonna love it either way!"

"She will. We definitely have a lot to celebrate." Junseo laughs.

"Alright, here." She pulls up her friend's business IG account. "This is what she does. What were you thinking?"

"Well, there's this certain picture I have in my head."

♡ END

When you get downstairs, you find Soyeon already helping her friend and Seonghwa place the decorations down onto the table outside where the food and the cake is meant to go. You're in awe of her creations, seeing the beautiful chrome silver, white, and cream balloons sitting alongside the backdrops. The larger board has a simple "Birthday Behavior!" message written in that cute calligraphy font. She also added a beautiful touch with a floral stand full of cream and neutral colored fake roses, peonies, babies breath and other plants around the balloons and backdrops. 

"It's so pretty!" You take a picture. "Thank you, seriously. I love it." You look at Soyeon and her friend.

"Glad you like it!" You take this time to chat a little bit with her friend and Seonghwa while they finish the last touches and begin to head out.

"Mama!" Charli runs in from the side door, followed by Junseo, Yoongi and Jini with some of the food in hand. Charli says her hellos to her uncles and starts playing around in the grassy area of the backyard, chasing after the bubbles from the bubble machine going on. Wooyoung and San are quick to join her in playing, while Hongjoong sets up the karaoke machine in the living room and gets some music going off to the side of the backyard.

It doesn't take too long for Seonghwa's family to start trailing in, and it certainly doesn't take long for the house to be packed and loud. You're having fun and enjoying every bit of it, though. Seonghwa's having fun, your family, your friends. It's the perfect moment. 

And Seonghwa couldn't agree more.

The weather, the music, the vibe of the party— it makes him feel good about his decision to do it on this day. It's like everything fell right onto his lap, the universe pushing him forward to complete the night as he had planned despite his nerves. He had been nervous for the past couple of days, and today, it felt like it was going overboard. He'd have to take quick moments of deep breaths, knowing what the rest of the night held for him.

He's not sure why he's so nervous. He knows you're in this with him. He guesses he just wants everything to go well, to be perfect.

Like you.

"You ready? We're gonna do the cake." Soyeon gives him a look and he simply nods.

"Yeah." She gives him a reassuring smile, telling the other boys to grab the blindfolds and to get ready for the 'cake.' Seonghwa runs upstairs to get himself together, grabbing the tiny box from the office room. He hid it well behind one of his figurines knowing you wouldn't touch or rearrange any of them without him knowing. He chuckles a bit at the silly thought, but it makes his heart melt knowing how much you go along with his silly antics and love him all the same way.

You are perfect.

You have always been.

He jogs back downstairs and sees you near the food tables, Soyeon already clutching the blindfold in her hand. The night sky is lit with a thousand stars, just like the ones that he sees in your eyes whenever he looks at you. 

"Okay everyone! Time to do the cake!" Soyeon smiles, and you clap happily. Seonghwa's heart soars because everyone here knows the plan except you, yet you're cutely excited for said cake. 

"Wait, why the blindfold?" You point at it as Soyeon positions herself behind you and starts fixing it over your eyes, with Junseo positioning himself behind Seonghwa with another blindfold. They had to make it somewhat believable until Soyeon had the blindfold tied properly around your eyes.

"Girl, cause the cake is a surprise, okay? I want you and Hwa to see it together once it's out and on the table."

"Ou, yay!" You squeal. Junseo, San and Hongjoong quietly turn the large backdrop around once they get the green light— Soyeon's friend manipulating the larger board in a way where it could easily be flipped to flash the message on the back:

Marry me?

There is a cake, but it's still sitting in the fridge until after everything happens. There are now rose petals littered everywhere around you, and everyone is gathered around while holding out their phones and single candles.

"Is the cake okay? There's still a cake, right?" Wooyoung lets a loud laugh hearing you question the cake, making Hongjoong nudge him on the side while silently chuckling.

"It is. Sorry, we just had to fix it on the table and get it out of the box carefully." Soyeon throws a thumbs up and receives final confirmation from Seonghwa before starting to undo your blindfold. "Ready?"

"Mhm!" You try to reach out for Hwa's hand but he's nowhere to be found next to you. "Where's Hwa—" Once the blindfold is off, you can't even finish your statement because standing in front of you is Seonghwa in all his beauty. Your bestfriend for over 17 years, your homie, your lover— everything wrapped into one.

He's standing in front of you with the softest smile on his face, hands behind his back.

"Seonghwa?" You furrow your brows in complete confusion, not having a clue as to what's going on. "What're you doing?" You watch as he grabs your hand and kisses the surface, caressing it softly with his thumb.

"Bear with me, okay? I'm really nervous." You continue to look at him in silence. "T-To be honest, I didn't really prepare much of a speech because I've been thinking about this over and over again, and I wasn't even sure what the right words would be. I could say everything and it probably still wouldn't be enough." He chuckles, making everyone 'aw' in unison. "But, after all these years, you've always stayed by my side throughout thick and thin. Bringing out the best in me despite all of our silly arguments and fights. Learning me. Being patient with me. Having fun with me. Doing life with you has been the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I can't see it being any other way." He shrugs a bit. "You're just my person. You're everything to me, and I wanna keep giving you the world until the very end. As long as you'll let me." You slowly nod. Suddenly, your hands come up to cover your mouth and you feel the tears already pooling in your eyes. Seonghwa drops to a knee and pulls out a small box from behind his back, flashing the huge diamond ring sitting in the slit. "Y/N, will you marry me?" You maintain eye contact even when you start bawling. You can't even find the words at the moment and it takes you a hot minute before you can regain your composure. You wish you could stop time and freeze in this very moment, wondering how you hadn't caught on to anything. You weren't even sure how the little things managed to slip by, but you couldn't ponder about it now.

The one thing you're very sure of is:

"Yes. Absolutely, yes." You nod just as Seonghwa slides the ring onto your finger and swoops you up into his arms— your families and friends now crying and clapping to celebrate.

"I love you so much." Seonghwa says in your ear before pressing his lips to your cheek, temple. Lips. "Can't wait to keep doing life with you, baby."

"Me too." You smile as you continue to cry, still trying to process the everything that just happened.

Years of having Seonghwa by your side, lead you both right to this moment, throughout all the trials and tribulations. Seonghwa was here, Seonghwa was always meant to be here— with you.

Loving each other in slow motion like you both always have.

♡ FLASHBACK | LATE COLLEGE

"Y/N!" You hear Seonghwa rush into the house and burst into your room. The door hits the wall so harshly it startles you even though you were expecting him to come in at any second. "Are you okay?" Concern is written all over his face when he drops down to your bedside and lays a hand on your forehead.

"Get your grubby hand off of me." You try shaking it off and all he can do is click his teeth in response.

"Stop." He sighs. "You're burning up. What was your temp earlier?"

"It was fine—"

"No." He says. "Please sit up. I brought some soup." As much as you were okay with being alone, you do appreciate Seonghwa coming by and you do like having him around especially while sick. He fixes the pillows behind you and sets a thick book onto your lap for the small soup bowl to rest on. He pops off the lid and sets it aside, handing you a spoon. "Eat. I'll get you some water." You slowly take a spoonful to your lips and blow, taking the contents into your mouth when you feel like it isn't gonna burn your entire soul. You watch as Seonghwa grabs some of his clothes from your closet before leaving the room— only coming back after he's fully changed into his sweats and shirt, a cup of water in his hand. 

"Here." He sets the water down on your nightstand.

"Pichu, wait." You look at your phone. "Don't you have a date soon?" He shrugs.

"I told her I couldn't go and that I was really sorry." 

"Y-you canceled on your date because of me?"

"You're sick. No one is home with you right now."

"So? I would've been okay, Hwa." He shakes his head and takes your extra pillow, plopping it onto the floor so he can lay down and relax.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"Why would you do that?"

"It's not a big deal. I promise." He looks at you from the floor. You eat a bit more in silence before you set the soup aside again, sipping on your water. 

"Thank you."

"Of course, Y/N."

"Pichu?"

"Mhm?" He continues to scroll through his phone. 

"I know I'm all gross and sick, but can you come up here?" You pat the free side of your bed. Seonghwa looks at the small pout forming on your lips, and he has to swallow the lump in his throat. Honestly, he really did cancel on his date today because he was worried about you. Yaya, Soyeon and her family had all left to celebrate a close family friend's birthday. You had planned to go, but you definitely didn't plan to wake up feeling nauseous and dizzy from a fever. Yaya had called Seonghwa to let him know that you'd be at home because you were sick and that they'd be home later tonight. She didn't even have to ask for Seonghwa to come because as soon as she had mentioned your sickness, he was already getting in his car to head over to you.

Date down the drain, but he didn't care one bit. He feels bad for canceling on his date somewhat last minute, but he wanted to be with you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

When the question slips from your lips, Seonghwa doesn't argue. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all. But, he tosses the pillow back onto the side of your bed and sits back against the headboard.

"Come here." He says, opening his arms. You lay on his chest and he throws an arm over you, his finger tracing random patterns on your arm. "Get some more sleep."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Just be here." He shuts his eyes as he rests his head back. "Not going anywhere." And that was the first time you thought maybe, he'd be the one you'd marry. Maybe, he was the one you wanted to marry.

That sounded nice. 

The idea of marrying your bestfriend and being safe, feeling comfort. Not having to change a thing.

Maybe, Seonghwa was your end goal.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @laurenwidjaja @taz-97 @asjkdk @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[itmeblog]

THERE WAS LITERALLY NOTHING STOPPING ME FROM WRITING FAN FIC ABOUT MY OWN SHIT!!

FUCKING NOTHING!!!!

(Maybe because I created this world it's canon now? But that is 1001% not my concern nor my problem)

Nova was alive. The pulse that ripped between her temples and settled angrily behind her eyes informed her as much.

She groaned, reaching in vain for memories from the night before. There were flashes: a bar, a party, another bar, a man, possibly a third bar and then…nothing. The rest of the night was ash and dust. She reached out for the glass SAWA should have left on her night stand and knocked something over sending shards of pain dancing in the space between her eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” She ground her face into the pillow. It smelled of something sweet, herbs the people on this planet used to keep pests away.

“Fuck.”

Please be a hotel.

She couldn’t take another morning of awkwardly running into the members of a family of someone she could only vaguely remember.

Nova gathered what pieces of herself she could manage. Her mouth was dry, her head was attempting a revolt from her neck, and spending the morning retching in whatever passed for a toilet here seemed a half-decent idea. It only got worse as she sat up.

The room was sparse, just a bed really. Her clothes were strewn across the floor, mixed with an outfit Nova didn’t recognize, all sequins and scarves. A screen sat nestled into the far wall and flickered silently through a morning report, a perky looking reporter sang the GU’s praises in the subtitles that scrolled across the bottom.

A hotel room.

Thank God.

Nova’s attention landed wearily on the woman sleeping beside her. What had happened to the guy she’d been with? Had she ditched him? Wandered off and found better company? She tried to remember but all she could recall was him pinning her to a wall, the heat of his body pressed against hers and the fleeting thought, hazed by brandy and something bitter she’d been offered to smoke, that he wasn’t enough to silence the thoughts in her head.  

Maybe the woman had succeeded where he’d failed. Nova wasn’t sure. She couldn’t remember this woman at all.

That was supposed to worry her. Lulu would be concerned.

Nova shut the thought away with a viciousness that made her stomach pitch.

As it turned out, there was a proper restroom, though a prerequisite for puking was actually having eaten something in the first place, so it was really more about form than efficacy. Nova sent prayers to a porcelain alter, a thought that teased a near hysterical laugh from her throat.

God, she was tired.

She picked up her clothes, showered, and left her companion to sleep off whatever had happened the night before.

“Hey.” Nova leaned heavily against the front desk she only half-remembered approaching, rubbing her fingers against her temples as she reached for words.

“Yes?” The person behind the counter, some alien with six eyes that blinked asynchronously in a way that made the impossible task of focusing on where to look, harder still.

“I—, uh, shit, I don’t even know the fucking room.” She turned around like that might somehow make it clearer, but she distinctly remembered taking a lift. She was fucking this up. Breathe. New tactic. “I’m Nova. Did a Nova sign in a room yesterday?”

The receptionist typed something, every key stroke hit like an axe between Nova’s brows.

“Last name?” Thunder.

“Don’t have one,” except the art of opening her mouth properly had escaped her and everything had come out in a continuous nearly indecipherable donaveone. Which after receiving several blinks Nova repeated to marginal success.

“Mmm, there was a Nova NoStar.”

She cringed. “NoStar?”

The clerk nodded, well, sort of nodded. Bobbed. They had no neck or equivalent thereof.

“Goddammit,” her hands returned to her temples, her elbows to the counter, the effort of keeping herself upright just a bit too much when she had to deal with this shit. “Yeah, NoStar. I’d like to pay, yesterday and today.”

She’d have to burn this planet off the list. How fucking stupid did she have to be to give her real name? Sure, there were probably millions of Nova NoStars out there but Jeanne would find a way. Fuck.

Nova paid, the blaring of the screen as her transaction went through made her want to dash her head against the wall.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Nova blinked, waiting for the words to settle in her head and mean something. “Need? Oh, uh, yeah, fuck, is there someplace to get breakfast around here?” She glanced at the sun that filtered in through the small window by the receptionist’s desk. “Or lunch?”

The directions she’d received sent Nova to a small food stand that smelled of grease and the promise of revival. She couldn’t read the menu and simply pointed and was handed something that might have been bread and some sort of meat, along with a bottle of water. The man who ran the stand was some flavor of human, though Nova could hardly be bothered to parse his existence. Modified, maybe?

She tried not to look too hard at what he’d given her. It undulated a bit if she stared at it too long, like it wasn’t quite dead despite the steam wafting from it. The first bite reminded her that she hadn’t really eaten the day before and the thing was gone before she knew it. She licked the oil from her fingers and set on the water.

Thank god for small miracles. She felt halfway human.

The traffic of the world sang through the air above her, in large ships belching black into the skies and buffeted her from all sides in lower forms of travel, things with wheels and rails and low flying capabilities. Galactic Union banners waved high overhead. Somewhere a commercial played calling for people to sign up for positions at their embassies.

The Galactic Union: Be part of something bigger.

Nova didn’t recognize this part of the city. It was cramped and crowded, two things Nova actually liked while she was working, but now that she was simply eating and drinking her way through her savings, was simply another obstacle that teased the remainder of her headache from the corners of her mind.

That and with food and water sustaining her, what little of her mind that was able to rouse for non-essential activities busied itself chiding her for her stupidity or cycling through all the things she could have done to save Lulu.

If only she’d been faster.

If only she’d noticed sooner.

If only she wasn’t such a fucking idiot.

If only she hadn’t listened.

Nova, stay put. The words rang clear as a bell between her ears. And then she was there again, frozen. Watching.

Lulu smiled. The skin at the corner of her eyes crinkled in concern, for Nova or herself, Nova didn’t know.

Then Lulu was gone.

The air around Nova was too thin, her pulse was a thready hum. She walked faster as if that might somehow put some distance between herself and the memory. A horn blared and the world rocketed into focus as a vehicle stopped just short of ramming her full speed and settled instead for banging into her leg just enough that her palms slammed into the hood to keep her steady.

Nova stared, wide eyed at the driver, her breaths coming in pants.

Wasn’t this what she’d wanted?

Why hadn’t they been driving faster?

Why did they stop?

The curses that filtered in through her translator were colorful and fantastical. Her bottom lip quivered as tears pricked the back of her eyes.

Lulu wouldn’t want this for me.

Her hands flew away from the hood as if she’d been burned. “Sorry,” was all she offered as she hurried away, her leg protesting at her speed after enduring that abuse. The driver’s curses followed her until she turned a corner and pressed her back against the wall of some towering building. The stone dug into her back, rough and painful, and real.

Her hands shook with leftover adrenaline.

“Fuck.”

She was going to cry. She couldn’t keep doing this.

“Lulu wanted you to live, you fucking idiot,” she whispered. “How could you forget how to do the one goddamn thing she wanted you to do?”

[sincerelyy-youres]

Sword Dance (Yandere Fencer Oc × Reader)

TW: Murder (Implied beheading), blood, possessive behavior and implied stalking. Read at your own risk.

When you first thought about it, you convinced yourself that it was love at first sight.

At that time, you were apart in the crowd that supports Gabriel Roze Ortega as he steps into the fencing arena, covered in a white fencing gear that looks a little too oversized for his physique, (Nevertheless, maybe that's just how fencing works?) his head is covered with a helmet, and he seems to be relishing as the crowd screamed and cheered on his name, hoping that he brings the trophy to your school's trophy display.

It was the championship game, and yet he does not appear to be bothered, nor tensed, unlike his opponent, who seems to slowly shrink into his own being upon hearing how loud the students from your school was. And because of that, Gabriel seems to have the spotlight on him althroughout the match.

It felt like a performance on his side. The way he swings his sword with sharpness, always knowing when to strike, and the way he seems to have already calculated the opponent's move way before they even executed it, and had already formulated a way to defend, is really wonderful. It was a sword dance, if it was not fencing.

When he was announced as the winner, your classmates around you roared and screamed with happiness, and you feel yourself clapping in approval, you yourself was satisfied with the outcome. It wasn't until Gabriel excitedly took off his mask and made direct eye contact with you that you had stopped clapping.

You feel your heart beat against you chest, because God, Gabriel Roze Ortega had a face that probably was sculpted by Aphrodite herself. A literal beauty, and the smile he directed towards you, eyes twinkling as if a kid was given an ice cream, you feel your cheeks heat. You didn't know why he was smiling at you, you didn't know why he was looking at you, despite the fact that the two of you never met before, but you threw all those suspicions away because you fell in love at first sight.

And as foolishly as you had fallen in love at first sight, had you pursued him like how a dog would pursue its master.

It was humiliating, really, looking back, now that you have gone past that phase of yours. That phase of endless pursuit, of endless hopes that atleast he would see you more than a fan that supports him in every game, every tour, and in everywhere he goes. He was your dream, but to your dismay, you were just another person in the crowd that gawks at him, and he was already looking the other way; he was already looking at another girl.

That girl that you wished you were ever since middle school: beautiful, petite, smart and pristine. The definition of beauty and brains. She looks like when the sun finally sets in the horizon. She smells like when roses first blooms, and she acts like the first angel that appeared before Mary. She was the heather of your school, and you were no near than what she is. And, what hurts you the most is that you were one of her close, best friends.

So, fearing that you might hurt you very own best friend because of envy, and jealousy, you turned you back away from everything and everyone, including that darned fencer. You shut yourself off completely, ignoring everyone who talks to you. Some even defended your situation, saying that it happens and it will eventually go away, some left you alone, and some...

"(Y/n)! Please... please open the door..."

That heather, the significant other of your crush bangs at the restroom door where you were currently in, and you held in a sob, not wanting to be heard in a room where wall echoes. Perhaps you were trying not to cry to make yourself look strong, or perhaps you wished that she would just go away, and hate and resent the hell out of you, instead of begging you to talk to her and sort things out. That would have been so easy.

"Fine! If you don't wanna talk then don't. Just.. please, I don't want to lose you too."

'I dont want to lose her too.'  You thought, as guilt started to creep into your stomach. You should be the one banging in the door, begging her to stay. After everything you've done to her. And yet...

"I...I'm going to go now...If you have decided to finally talk Im waiting for you in the rooftop, after school." then, there was a loud sob, it felt like something she was holding in for a while and you felt your pride shatter.

And before you can even open the door, hug her, and apologize, you hear her heels click away in the hallways, signifying that she already left. Guilt had made its way into your heart, tugging in your soul. You cried hard after she left, rethinking you decisions. But one thing is for sure though, you are going to go to the rooftop after school, apologize, and you swear this won't happen again.

It wasn't her fault that she was in a relationship with the guy you love. It wasn't her fault that you feel envious and resentful of her. She didn't do anything wrong.

Cassandra didn't do anything wrong.

And you were going to set things right. Even if that means hurting your own feelings. Even if that means throwing Gabriel Roze Ortega away. You already have induced so much suffering to your best friend, and to other people you ghosted away.

It's time to set things right.

___

You have a very bad gut feeling when the classes ended.

Of course, practically speaking, you were sure that Cassandra will show up in the rooftop after class and forgive you, but even with that assurance, you know your faults and have been greatly regretting everything you did. However, there was this really bad gut feeling that something is about to happen and something is telling you to just.go.home. Forget about everything, and run away again, like you always do.

But you can't back out now, would you? You were already making your way upstairs! But that gut feeling was still there, gnawing at your soul just like how guilt slowly crept up to you when your best friend banged against the restroom doors a lot of hours ago. You could text her to just meet up at a different place right? But that would be too demanding on your part, would it?

Plus, the two of you still need to talk things over, face to face, as it was never serious in digital conversations. You need to face the consequences of your actions. But then... is this the right time for that? The right place? Or if this is it, can you really face your own problems?

Something really tells you off that this isn't it. Something is terribly wrong right now, and you can't pinpoint as to why. You mean, you are just going to say sorry right? You were just going to reconciliate with you best friend, and then go home... what is wrong with that? why does it feels like something bad is about to happen?

And upon opening the door to the rooftop, did you realize what it was all about.

Instead of clean, white tiles that Cassandra and you used to sit at during lunch time, eating the time away with strawberry latte and bento boxes that she always prepare for the two of you, it was replaced with blood splashed violently around, and Cassandra lying in the middle of it, barely holding onto life itself.

You screamed, or so you thought. Your hand was pressed against your mouth as your knees gave up, losing balance, you fell in the floor. You saw the way Cassandra looked up to you and smiled weakly, but you couldn't even muster the courage to stand and stop the incoming sword that would slash her head from her body. You couldn't, or maybe you did, but you were too late.

Blood splashed from her neck, like a fountain, and you felt it all splash against you. Then it finally sinked into you. Cassandra is dead. She is dead... your best friend- your best friend is dead.

She was fine a while ago, knocking in the bathroom door and now she's dead, she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead SHE'S DEAD-

"Hmm? O-Oh, (Y/n)? Youre here?"  A familliar voice spoke up, and you looked up, only to see a face that you do not need to see at the moment. Brown eyes, white complexion, and soft black hair. His lips streched into a lovelust smile, and a blush had spread across his cheeks. But what bothers you the most is why was he making an expression like that. His girlfriend is murdered and yet-!

Wait.

He was covered in blood, and he was holding a sword. A blood covered sword with flesh still hanging at the tip of it. What is this? Did he--!?

"Ah, um... sorry that you have to see me do that, I-" he scratched his head, looking like a shy child being embarassed in front of his mother, then he sighed. "That wasn't in the plan, You weren't supposed to see that, but I guess plan B can still work! Really, planning things beforehand are doing wonders. That how I always win in fencing matches, you see" he proudly says, as if he hadn't just murdered a person, much less his own girlfriend.

"Y-you murdered--"

"Yeah, I killed her because she was starting to deviate from the role I gave her. She was supposed to be a way to get you to leave everyone, not a way to get you to push me away. Really, it was all so annoying." Gabriel took out a handkerchief in his pocket and began wiping blood away from his face, like he was just wiping sweat from practicing fencing. then he sighed, and looked at you again.

You were practically frozen at the spot, trying to process the information. Mixed emotions started to flood into you, and you didn't kow how to act. Gabriel chuckles endearingly at you.

"You know, (Y/n), when I first saw you, I immediately realized that you have to be with me forever. That I wanted to let the world know that you belong to me, and I belong to you. But fuck, You aren't even paying attention to me! So when I heard you talking to your friend about how much you prefer an athletic person, I want to become exactly as how you imagine your dream guy to be, and here I am! Aren't you proud!?" He monologues, and every word that seems to fall in his mouth left you hyperventilating. Upon seeing how pathetic you look like, he frowns in disappointment.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT LOOK GODDAMMIT!" he screamed and you flinched as he marched towards the rooftop entrance, and kneeled infront of you. You looked at him in fear, your head started to hurt because of nausea, maybe because of the smell of metallic blood on his clothes or that fact that you best friend was murdered, you don't know. You don't know anymore. You wanted to run. And you wanted so bad to bolt down the stairs when Gabriel suddenly hugged you.

"Here's whats going to happen now, (Y/n)" He tightens his arms around you, pats your back, as if he can give any comfort. "After I sort things out with the death of my dearest ex- girlfriend, you and I will be in a relationship after, do you understand?"

"After all, I need some compensation from that time when you avoided me a lot, no?"

[kuyurasu]

Do's + No's

A/N ; this will be edited as I continue to use Tumblr but this is what u get for now. This is basically guidelines for my page. Purely genshin btw, so if you are looking for some other fan base you won't find it here.

Reading? Np

!Comments!

Comment whatever you want. I do not care, as long as it's not racist, sexist or any generally bad shit.

You can literally comment you hate my work, just don't go bullying each other and making my comment section an argument. Go text that to each other or whatever.

Don't say go k-ll yourself or whatever bs bc I will block you, simple as that.

Comments like compliments will be nice but again you probably won't get a response, same with questions. Personally DM me if you have such an important question. I probably will respond then. You can do whatever but actions have consequences. That applies to anything you do negatively on my page.

I don't say this to be mean, just that I am a busy person with a life outside the internet that just loves writing in spare time.

!Reblogs!

I do not care as long as you don't change anything and stuff and give me credit. Other than that, go for it.

!Shares!

Go for it.

!Readers!

I do not care what your age is. I don't care what gender you identify as. Nor do I care about what your sexuality you orientate with. Don't make it weird. What you decide to do in your free time holds no consequences to me as long as you don't drag me in your business.

Feel free to comment, request, share, or whatever, just as long as you don't make a big deal out of it.

If you're a shy person that wants to request no biggie. Just privately request in my messages and I'll see what I can do.

These are my boundaries, respect them and I'll respect you and your requests.

Requests?

This is more do's and no's list and probably the most important bc Ik how desperate y'all can be with ur imagination haha

Any requests should be specific and clear.

I will DO this ;

!Smut!

The more the merrier I say. Yummy. Just label how spicy you want it with 1-5 🌶's.

1 🌶 for mild, words like "length, appendage" will be used. For example,

'He pinned me to the bed with a tender look, his pants straining at his length. I knew where this would end up as I slid my hand down.' And that's it. Very mild.

2 🌶🌶's will be still mild but maybe a kink or two. No example because what you request for kinks is up to you! The word pens will probably be used but you can request it without.

3 🌶🌶🌶's will be gaining in heat. Up to 4 kinks and whatever else you describe but know I won't put my back in it. Cock, and dick will be used from here on out.

Use your imagination for 4 🌶s and 5 🌶s.

You can use scenarios for each.

I also do not give a flying fuck if you're a minor. Literally, it's not my business what you do online. And if that makes anyone uncomfortable that's your personal thing.

If you want smut mixed in with anything, I will do it.

I will also do safewords used during intercourse and fluff/comfort is used. Most likely the smut part won't be described much and will heavily lean on comfort.

Somnophilia is only permitted with consent.

I will NOT do this ;

!Smut!

Any toxic or controlling or negative yandere. Prob one of my most important. This also applies to any work whether it be no smut or smut. I won't EVER do abuse or rape. Maybe abuse for like an ex-relationship for Angst but absolutely not for current relationships. Fuck that.

No piss kinks, no furries, no kinks that involve bowel movements/bodily restroom business, or feet. It disgusts me.

That includes a sweat kink.

Probably won't do any Hard-Core pain kinks, it just makes me uncomfortable. Like fisting.

No CNC, or any dubious content.

Fuck pedophilia, or any minor and adult shit. Don't request any incest bs. No beastality or zoophilia.

If you fail at staying within my smut rules then I will assume you haven't read my rules and won't respond.

ONLY EXCEPTIONS : KINKTOBER

then we can talk about maybe switching up.

I will DO this ;

!Fluff!

Any amount of Fluff is good Fluff. If you specify just Fluff in a request and maybe a tad bit suggestive, I will take it as you don't want any smut so be careful with wording.

I will NOT do this ;

!Fluff!

Any and all yandere that is not healthy and safe. If you want a Fluff where a character is a yandere but not in a healthy, safe, and consensual atmosphere, I will ignore you.

If you don't specify I will assume it will be PLATONIC, especially if it's not even remotely suggestive.

I will DO this ;

!Angst!

Sobbing in pillow type of shit.

Could convince me to do a full on sad ending but prob not. I need happy endings usually. I'm a sap.

I 100% will do pt 2s in the case some want completely sad endings and some like me who want happy endings.

I will NOT do this ;

!Angst!

Major Character death is a no no. Not as big as my other rules but still,,,, hurts too much lol

Yanderes that are toxic. I've prob said it enough.

I will DO this ;

!Crack!

Anything really. Up to 8 characters.

I will NOT do this ;

!Crack!

Will add in future if anything comes to mind.

PLEASE STATE (for requests) ;

Please state in your requests what plot you want, or if you want complete smut.

Pronouns. I don't want to get any pronouns wrong so here are my available ones for all types of genre, purely because I cannot trust myself with editing and slip ups. Don't wanna offend anyone.

She/Her

They/Them

He/Him

As I write, I may add some more once I get more practice.

It's also easier to write a full request if ik some sort of personality. It's honestly hard to write anything if I don't know what the base of a person is. If you'd like, give me some dislikes and likes so I can truly know the request.

Character(s). For requests that are for numerous characters, I only will allow up to 3 characters. The list of characters I write for currently is at the bottom of the page.

If you want a full on fic with xreader, meaning not a short little skit, one character, and I'll do a max of.... 10k? Idk, and idc. Depends on if you get me inspired tbh.

P.O.V.

Whaddya want?

1st person (I, Me, Myself, We, +)

2nd person (You, +)

3rd person (He, She, They, +)

Power?

Vision? Yes? No? Surprise?

BE CLEAR. Assume I'm oblivious to all your wants.

Avaliable Characters ; (different color for personal favs)

Albedo, Al-Haitham, Arataki Itto, Beidou, Cyno, Dehya, Diluc, Dottore, Eula, Ganyu, Kazuha, Kaeya, Shinobu, Lisa, Pantalone, Ei/Raiden, Rosaria, Kokomi, Shenhe, Heizou, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Traveler, Venti, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Xiao, Yae Miko, Yelan, Zhongli, +

Good luck.

Requests are open.

[lovespotion9]

Broken Telephone

TW: 18+ | minors, please dni <3 | Sort of Angsty smut? | Captain kink | Vaginal Fingering (r! receiving) | Strong Language | Spit Kink | Degradation Kink | Breath restriction/choking | Strap-on (r! receiving) | Oral Sex (r! receiving)| Mention of intoxication, alcohol consumption | Afab reader, "she" pronoun used |

[ lmk if I missed anything, please!]

Wordcount: 2.7k

Enjoy! And if you don’t… spare me the constructive criticism, because I will cry <3 (/j but seriously, shush.)

Broken Telephone

“I want to make you cum on my fingers.” Your Captain breathes into your ear, hiding the slight nip she gives your earlobe with a cupped hand connecting the corner of her mouth to the side of your face.

Your face heats up at the comment, panicking eyes darting about the room in search of an Avenger that might’ve overheard the obscenity. Luckily, it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed, they all just sat in a quiet circle, waiting patiently for you to pass the message to Steve.

Pulling away, Carol smirks at the reaction she’s gotten from you with her words as she fiddles with the glass in her lap.

“Y/n, my god.” Yelena groans from the opposite side of the room

You quickly regain your composure, sitting straight up and leaning into Steve to tell him a message to pass on. “Uhm-” Carol’s gaze burns through your clothing, knocking you right back into the speechless state you were in a few seconds ago. “Uhm... “

“Y/n?” Steve pulls away from you, giving you a look of concern.

“She’s had too’m to drink, skip'er.” Yelena slurs, clearly more intoxicated than you were.

The game continues, and so does Carol’s dangerously obvious teasing. Whether it was her hand slowly creeping up your clothed thigh, a penetrating look that revealed exactly what was on her mind at the moment, or another lewd remark that threatened your ability to think complete thoughts- she wasn’t afraid to do it, to make it.

Carol was never really someone who gave a shit about what others thought, nor did she give a shit about what they saw or heard. You learned that quickly sometime around the time you guys first started seeing each other – or, fucking each other, that is. She pushed you into an elevator on the way to a very important conference, fried the control panel with a photon blast, and fingered and ate you out until maintenance began to pry the doors open.

You were the complete opposite until you met her, preferring privacy and intimacy over public quickies that resulted in you wiping cum off of your skirt with a damp napkin in the restroom before the workday had even started. You took notice of this change in your behaviour, you took shame in it. Which is exactly why you avoided her every chance you got. Declining her phone calls and attempting to spare yourself the tempting conversations and situations she’d always find a way to trap you into.

You despised the slick way her tongue moved- regardless of if it was when it was swaying you into coming into her room ‘one last time’ , or when it had you writhing and spasming against her bedsheets later that same night. The way she always took up 2 seats with her spread legs, arms outstretched across the backs of each chair almost as if she was daring someone to tell her to move. And that fucking smirk. That smirk that made you shiver when you felt it against your skin, the cocky smirk that showed exactly how well she knew of the effect she had on you. Yet you were so easily talked into setting all of those things aside each night she was bored or needed to get off. You were literal putty in her hands.

The game ended after a while, and Carol was the first to leave for some unapparent reason- leaving her phone and glass behind her.

You tried desperately not to wonder what she was doing… possibly who she was doing it with. But, as always, you lasted all of 4 minutes before you popped up from your spot on the carpet, trying not to look as thirsty as you actually were as you practically darted out of the room in search of Carol.

The soft sound of your heart palpitating in your ears must’ve blocked out your echoing footsteps, because you didn’t realize how loud you were being until Carol’s door opened before you could reach it.

She stands in the doorway grinning at you as you avert your gaze to your own bedroom door directly across from hers. “Y/n,” You turn to look at your Captain, her crossed arms and smirk giving her that authoritative look that you lusted over. “Come here.” The dominant way she spoke the words made it seem as if you had no choice but to obey ㅤ

You were both a little tipsy, so the better judgment you each lacked when you were sober was a myth at this point. It was like clockwork, before you could even walk the full 3 feet to her door she had grabbed you and pulled you into her arms. You took in her familiar scent that you took an unhealthy comfort in as she kissed down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt in the process. It felt as if you were melting into each other as she pushed you up against the wall, hands now delicately palming your breasts. Her tongue intruded your mouth, swirling artfully about yours. "I knew you'd come." She breathes, pulling away from you and replacing her lips with a slim and calloused forefinger.

"Bet you did." You quip, guiding her lips back to yours. She hungrily bites your bottom lip before scooping her hands beneath your bum and lifting you off of your feet. Deepening the kiss, you wrap your legs about her to rest in the spot on her waist they found comfort in so often. She sets you delicately on the bed before tugging at your trousers and softly pulling them down your legs. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” A soft kiss is placed on your mound, following the lustful groan aroused from your Captain. ㅤ

It all happened so quickly- just as it always did. One second you were playing telephone with your favorite people in the world, and the next you were filling Carol’s room with your wanton moans – acquainted music to her ears. An emotionally scarring situation you found yourself tangled into so often- yet each time you had a chance to get out of it you declined. Inviting the devil herself between your legs each time she desired it, allowing her to toy with your emotions by treating you like glass one moment and shit on the bottom of her shoe the next.

She worked eagerly to pleasure you, thrusting her fingers in and out of you at a rapid rate as her lips puckered firmly about your clit. Her cold brown eyes watch your expression closely, tracking the volume of your moans and the intensity of each writhe, adjusting her speed accordingly.

“You take my fingers so well, princess.” The blonde coos before removing her fingers from your heat and bringing them to her mouth. You take in a sharp breath as she suddenly spits on your area before forcing two fingers back into you, brutally curling them as soon as they’re deep enough inside of you. “Carol!” Gasping, you clutch the sheets- your back arching off of the bed and towards the woman working relentlessly between your thighs.

Slowly, she travels up the bed to meet your lips with hers almost as if she was answering your call- fingers still curling harshly into your sensitive spot. Another sharp gasp is ripped from your lungs as you feel the familiar and overwhelming vibrations pulsate against your g-spot.

Her speechless state and focused expression gives away the fact she’s slipped into that mode that scares you a bit. When it starts to seem like she’s taking out all of her rage and stress on you, her dominant side and ultimate need for control overpowering her hidden gentle and caring personality.

She fucks you like she doesn’t know you.

Soft praises usually uttered into your overheated skin turning into degrading remarks that often left you torn between being offended and being insanely turned on.

You two never spoke about this side of Carol, it was like a shameful secret kept between you and her. Afterward, she’d simply detach her lips from your writhing form and leave the room, only to return with a warm towel and an unlimited supply of affection specifically reserved for your time behind closed doors. Incessantly peppering gentle and soothing kisses across your body, calling attention to the red areas she’d either slapped or sucked too hard - it seemed to you as if she was apologizing for all of the times she had wronged you. Showing you the things she could never quite bring herself to say.

Her name falls from your lips one last time in the form of a lengthy, breathy moan as you come undone on her fingers. And although she’s clearly aware of your orgasm, she doesn’t stop her efforts to bring the next one crashing over you. Forcing a third finger into your already overworked cunt, she yanks down your bra and begins sucking painful hickies into your chest.

Taking no pity on the moaning mess falling apart beneath her, she harshly sucks one of your nipples into her mouth all while curling her three fingers into you- earning a quiet but high-pitched yelp from you. ㅤ

Her lustful brown eyes rise up your body to meet yours once again- this time not in search of pleasure, but simply to take in all of the beauty she was about to absolutely ruin.

Removing her fingers from your center, she raises her head from your breasts to hover lightly above yours under the pretense she was going to kiss you. And although you’d momentarily forgotten that kissing wasn’t the norm with this side of Carol, she was quick to remind you of the fact with her sudden manhandling. You gasp at the moment she swiftly grabs your arm and flips you onto your stomach before attaching her hand firmly to the back of your neck.

“Carol, wh-” Panic flutters about your heart and you fall silent as you realize the mistake you’ve made- your apologetic eyes being useless in their limiting view of the pillows. Her grip on your neck tenses, and if you hadn’t been in this situation many times before- you probably would’ve thought you were about to suffocate. “Fix it.” She says flatly, and although your mind was a muddled puddle of chaos at the moment, you still manage to remember that Carol accepted 2 names and 2 names only once the bedroom door locks shut, neither of them being her own. “Captain,” You choke out, tears starting to cloud your vision due to the air restriction.

Despite your correction, her grip on your neck never falters, and the only sounds she allows you to choke out for the next few moments are shrill moans and cries in response to the sizable toy she’s now thrusting into your cunt from behind. You moan desperately into the pillows as the strap fills you at every angle, nothing but Carol’s grunts and slapping of her muscular thighs against yours to accompany the obscene sounds. Her free hand forms an iron grip about your two wrists, pressing them firmly into your lower back to limit your squirming.

Your back arches into the bed as another orgasm washes over you- voice going hoarse from all of the screaming you’d done. And just as you’re falling off of the edge of your third one, Carol abruptly flips you over after removing the toy from your cunt. An impatient noise leaves your mouth as you buck your hips towards her in protest.

If there was one thing you knew about the all-mysterious Carol, you knew that she needed constant change. Which meant incessantly changing positions and locations- which was sort of annoying to you being that it meant your finishing was often postponed as a result of her disinterest in the way the light was hitting your forehead.

Sliding you down the bed, She tosses each of your legs over her Shoulders and teases your entrance with the bulbous head of the dildo, earning a needy and desperate whine from you.

Removing her hand from your neck, she prods two fingers at your mouth tugging your lower lip down slightly. “Beg for it. Use your words.”

You start almost as if it was a routine, looking up at her with needy eyes and bucking your hips towards the toy. "Please, Captain, I want your cock inside of me- I-" And just as routinely as the rest of this encounter had gone, your begging is expetedly cut Short by a rather forceful slap delivered to your throbbing bundle of nerves with the head of the toy. You moan into the air as the toy fills you delightfully thanks to the unexpected Snap of Carol's hips. Groaning in pleasure as the ribbed length is slowly withdrawn from your cunt and thrust forcefully back in within seconds, your slurred praises of Carol’s efforts slowly morph into incoherent babbles muffled by your quivering hand.

Continuing her vigorous thrusts, she removes your cupped hand from your lips, placing it at your side. “Why are you trying to keep quiet, baby? I want to hear how good I make you feel.” And worried this might be the softest Carol was going to be with you for a while, you obey- keeping your hand in place at your side and allowing the rest of your cries to echo about the room. The risk of one of your dear teammates overhearing you was quickly pushed to the back of your mind as Carol’s thrusts quickened and you could no longer tell if the staring contest she had forced you into to with the firm grip of her hand redirecting your chin to face hers was an actual contest or just another one of her peculiar turn-ons.

You gaze into her almost-fully-blown pupils, the brown irises you covertly thought were the most beautiful things in the world now almost entirely concealed. You wondered what she was thinking about as she did the same to you, and your insecurities surrounding your importance to her took over your racing mind. Was she imagining Someone else as she fucked you? Her thrusts never faltered, and the only thing that seemingly whisked you away from your thoughts was the sudden rough Pinching at your nipples followed by a forceful slap across each of them. The insane build-up of emotion- or lack thereof, for Carol- and pleasure was apparently noticed by her before you. Strikes and whispers of encouragement all fading into the background as her persistent thrusts send you crashing over the edge.

As the night proceeds, your feelings of anxiety and insecurity about your relationship worsen and you soon come to terms with the fact that you've done felt exactly what she instructed you not to at the start of all of this.

So when she returns with the towel damp with warm water and her comforting kisses, you look down in shame about the lovey-dovey feelings you've acquired.

“Y/n,” She starts, settling into her usual position beside you, a certain restlessness residing in her brown eyes. And as she looks at you with that expression that many might mistake for vacancy, you know that the most painful part of this deranged routine was soon to come.

“I love you.” She completes, a tinge of longing in her tone. You give a perfunctory smile, accustomed to the painfully familiar words. Words that you heard too often from her. Words that drove a metal stake through your heart each time they fell from her lips- all because you knew that they’d never hold true meaning.

So, you utter the words as if they upset you, just as you always did. Inputting yourself into an endless and confusing cycle of pleasure and pain.

Not that that would do anything;

And never would you find the courage to tell her how you truly felt, what those words truly did to you - especially from her.

talking to Carol was like speaking into a broken telephone.

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------

I'd be happy to write multiple sorts to this, but I also don't want to write something nobody wants or interacts with! Would you guys like part II?

[midoriyashotos]

Unbreakable

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Kirishima Eijiro/Midoriya Izuku

Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Kirishima Eijiro, Bakugo Katsuki; MINOR ROLES - 1-A students

Summary: “Get out of the way, Kirishima,” Katsuki warns him. “I won’t hesitate to break your face in fucking pieces!”

“Then DO IT! I DON’T CARE!” Kirishima roars. He’s never sounded this angry. “I won’t let you break Midoriya EVER AGAIN!”

--

In which someone finally stands up for Izuku.

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: basically I wrote Kirishima being protective of Izuku, because it’s interesting how he hates bullies but never stands up to Bakugo...

I hope this isn’t too OOC. Enjoy!

TRIGGER WARNINGS - minor violence, bullying/abuse and injury.

*NOT BAKUGO/KIRIBAKU/BAKUDEKU FRIENDLY!

--

Izuku is happy, really.

Sure, it can be exhausting. It can be aggravating to live up to what comes with being the Symbol of Peace. And it’s also terrifying the reminder that Katsuki knows about his secret and has a lot more reason to hate him.

Not that Katsuki would ever quit hating Izuku, but still.

In the very least, the explosive boy doesn’t hit Izuku regularly anymore. People in their school don’t take Katsuki seriously like it happened in Middle School, so it’s a relief.

(They constantly call Katsuki and Izuku childhood friends, though.)

(Or rivals. Are they really rivals?)

Regardless, as long as Izuku stays away from Katsuki, he’ll be fine.

So, he’s happy.

--

When they can, 1-A has fun nights that may include eating cake and candies, playing games and watching movies – sometimes all in the same night. His classmates are very united in that sense.

Tonight, they’re sharing a big cake everyone helped Sato with; the teenagers are all separated in groups that fill the common room with life.

Izuku might subconsciously flinch every time a certain voice raises near him. Thankfully, it’s not directed at him – once he looks, he finds Katsuki and his friends messing with him. The greenette sighs in relief.

The boy spends most of the night alongside Uraraka, Iida, Tsuyu and Todoroki. At one point, though, Izuku rests alone on the green couch, honestly a little drained by all the energy today, given the yelling and cursing that persists in what should’ve been a good time.

As his head is stuck in his thoughts, Izuku jolts when someone reaches him in the almost untouched spot.

“Hey, Midoriya! What’s up, man?”

Kirishima grins at him. His usually spiky hair is down today (a detail Izuku strives not to stare at for too long, because that’s creepy).

“K-Kirishima-kun! Hi!” Izuku stammers.

“You partied a lot?”

Izuku laughs shyly, “Yeah, had plenty of cake.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kirishima smiles. “Mind if I take a break with you?”

“A-Ah, sure. I mean, you can sit! Feel free to!”

His red-haired friend sits close to him, maybe… a little too close, the other notes. Izuku holds his cup of now-warm soda, playing with it nervously. Kirishima’s enthusiasm and passion honestly still catch him off guard. At first, Izuku thought he’d be… different. Spiky hair, red eyes, sharp teeth…

Instead, Kirishima turned out to be one of the sweetest and brightest people Izuku has ever known. He brings a lot of spirit to their class.

(And now that Izuku knows, Kirishima does look a lot more friendly and… cute.)

“… Midoriya, you’re looking kind of red…”

Izuku’s green eyes enlarge comically, cheeks burning.

“GAH! I-It’s nothing, Kirishima-kun! It’s just- h-hot in here, isn’t it?” Izuku ignores the fact they’re all wearing sweaters in this chilly night; but he supposes Kirishima does it as well, since he doesn’t touch on it.

If anything, the redhead smiles at him fondly.

(For the love of All Might, it’s too breathtaking.)

Izuku finds some ease, though, in his friend’s heat next to him. Kirishima’s presence is solid and stable like his quirk, but soft and gentle all at same. It perfectly encapsulates who Kirishima is, as a hero and a person.

Still, the freckled boy can’t help but wonder why Kirishima has decided to join him. Izuku is not doing anything particularly interesting. They’re not talking… but it’s not awkward, either.

Regardless, Izuku’s peace is disturbed yet again by Katsuki’s yelling bursts, his steaming hands felt from far away. As always, it’s just Sero, Kaminari and Ashido having fun with him.

Before Izuku can dive in his terrified relief, he’s reminded of the fact Kirishima is next to him, and maybe watching him as well.

“You okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah… Kacchan’s enthusiasm is…” Izuku gulps, “a little too much sometimes.”

“Oh.” Kirishima sounds a little suspicious, but he quickly resumes his smiley nature. “Man, tell me about it,” he jokes.

Izuku holds his plastic cup tighter, refraining himself from tearing it apart and spilling all the soda on the floor.

“I can tell he’s having fun, at least,” Izuku analyzes. “He really likes you guys.”

“Yeah…” Kirishima pauses, only to laugh nervously, “he doesn’t really know how to show that, though.”

(Izuku recalls all the punches to Kirishima’s stony hair, and the insults Katsuki throws at him on a daily basis.)

“At least he likes you, Kirishima-kun,” Izuku reassures him in a lighthearted tone. “Kacchan was never happy with me.”

Admittedly, he hasn’t quite thought over these words – nor was he expecting Kirishima’s concerned gaze, his fondness of Katsuki gone.

“What do you mean?” The red-haired boy inquires.

“Ah, you know…” Izuku clears his throat, as his other classmates party and pay them no mind. “Kacchan’s called me weak since we were kids. He’s always been competitive, and- since my quirk took a while to show up”— he gulps due to the weight of the lie —“we were never…” he trails off, really not wanting to give more details.

“… you were never friends?” Kirishima completes.

Izuku swallows the bitter taste in his mouth and silently shakes his head.

“B-But it’s okay, though! We’re good now,” he tries to convince his friend (… and himself). “I just have to stay away from him because- you know how he is. But he’s got you guys as friends, so I know he’s happy.”

Kirishima looks away, thoughtful. He doesn’t seem entirely relieved by his words. Izuku suddenly feels the need to escape – what has he done?

“I- I need to go to the restroom!” He jumps from the sofa before Kirishima stops him.

Izuku is in such a rush that he doesn’t realize Katsuki is in his way.

“Oi!” Katsuki snaps. His eyes are immediately spiteful. “Deku…”

“K-KACCHAN! SORRY!!” Izuku runs even faster – how embarrassing.

“Get in my way again and I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Bakugo, chill,” Izuku hears Kaminari say nonchalantly.

This is his reality.

He’s happy with it. He is.

--

Everything was fine. Truly. Izuku has no idea what he did wrong.

(He’s never known, beside having no quirk in the past.)

They were training at the gym, outside of class time. Izuku tends to train on his own, but lately he’s been sparring with Kirishima, whose quirk helps with more physical attacks. It also helps Kirishima’s special technique in return.

Basically, Izuku and some of his classmates were going for a break, to drink water and eat whatever strengthens their quirks (like Sato having to eat more sugar). On his way, Izuku passed by Katsuki, who’s literally never in a good mood.

“Deku.”

“S-Sorry, Kacchan! You can go ahead!”

“As if I’ll fucking do what you say,” Katsuki bumps his arm into Izuku, hard, as he mutters in his breath, “shitty nerd.”

Izuku gulped and said nothing else.

(The freckled teen strived to not let One for All concentrate in his clenched fists.)

So, when everyone is gathered, chatting with one another, Izuku is admittedly distant from them. Katsuki would glare at him every now and then just for existing, no matter how far he was.

That’s the reason Izuku refuses to train with all of them when Kirishima suggests. Izuku tells them he’d be on his own again – his tone maybe too tight and serious. His classmates don’t question it, despite their concerned looks. Izuku tries to avoid Kirishima’s in particular – because he loves spending time with them, with him, he really does but…

“Yeah, leave Deku,” Katsuki voices in opposition, “it’s better than dealing with a dead weight.”

“Yikes, Bakugo! That’s really uncalled for!” Kaminari protests.

“I know you guys are rivals, but that’s too much, don’t you think?” Sero scolds.

Izuku stares at Katsuki, ignoring his classmates’ statements. Izuku stares deep into his red eyes: unlike Kirishima’s, they’re dreadful, have been since they were only five. He has the same superior stance and tone. Katsuki is the exact same person as the senseless bully that told Izuku to kill himself not too long ago.

The green-haired teenager’s look becomes intense. Furious. The kind of fury that doesn’t always show, because everything is bound to fall apart.

Even when his eyes avert from Katsuki, that’s what ultimately happens.

“Oi, fucking look at me!”

Despite Katsuki’s terrifying rage, Izuku defies.

“Why should I?” He mumbles, his voice gradually raising and deepening, “I can’t even exist near you.”

“What did you fucking say?”

Izuku’s hands clench into tight fists, glowing with One for All. His green eyes sparkle with intensity and ferocity.

“You heard me, Katsuki.”

The atmosphere is instantly changed.

“H-Hey guys, come on, don’t fight!...” Sero chuckles nervously, only to be pushed away by powerful hands.

Katsuki rages and advances, raising his arm.

Although he can defend himself, Izuku can only brace for the impact.

(It’s what he can do. The anticipation. The acceptance. He’s always expecting a blast to his face, and the reminder that he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, whether or not he has a quirk; nothing matters to Katsuki, as long as Izuku stops existing.)

Izuku waits.

But it never comes.

No. He hears the explosion blocked by something hard – hard like a rock. And once Izuku looks up, he covers his mouth to contain a gasp.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Kirishima screams, arms together like a shield, the sharp skin scratched by the burnings of Katsuki’s hands.

Katsuki himself is also shocked for a moment. For one, nobody else has ever dared to get in the way of his attacks, either because they’re too scared of him… or they don’t fear him enough to stop him. But most importantly, Kirishima has never stood up to Katsuki. Kirishima has endured his insults, sure, but he’s never defied him in an actual fight.

“Get out of the way, Kirishima,” Katsuki warns him. “I won’t hesitate to break your face in fucking pieces!”

“Then DO IT! I DON’T CARE!” Kirishima roars. He’s never sounded this angry. “I won’t let you break Midoriya EVER AGAIN!”

Izuku can’t move. He can’t say a word.

Katsuki is about to hit Kirishima again without any remorse, only for Sero to hold him back with as many tapes as he can make. Sato, Shoji and Koda help, while Kaminari tries to calm Kirishima down, which has zero effect.

“You’re not a man, Bakugo! You’re a goddamn abuser!” Kirishima points at him. “And abusers ARE NOT MY FRIENDS!”

“Dude, stop! You’re going to make it worse!” Kaminari scolds him, whereas Katsuki has already reduced himself to incomprehensible, enraged noises. Jiro might even rush to call Aizawa-sensei to hold both Katsuki and Kirishima back.

In spite of all the rage he must be feeling, Kirishima still stands protectively in front of Izuku, instinctively approaching him every time Katsuki threatens to break free and come after them.

Regardless, Izuku can still do nothing.

Nothing at all.

--

As expected, Katsuki and Kirishima are suspended for days – similar to when Izuku was forced to fight his classmate a few months ago.

Uraraka and Todoroki stay with Izuku as they wait. Only Kirishima returns to the dorms for now. His friends initially don’t understand why he fought Katsuki, assuming he’d lost his calm for nothing.

Yet Kirishima answers to none of these questionings. The moment he finds Izuku, his look softens, and he rushes to check over him.

“Midoriya,” he whispers in concern, “are you okay?”

Izuku dumbly gazes at him in response, swallowing a gasp when he notices the damage that Katsuki’s explosion did to Kirishima’s face; even with Recovery Girl’s help, the painful scratches can still be seen.

“K-Kirishima-kun…” Izuku chokes with tears welling up in his eyes, and the many feelings and words he’s struggling to understand.

The boy isn’t sure how he should feel. He’s guilty for putting Kirishima in danger, and for ruining his friendship with Katsuki. But Izuku is also angry at Katsuki for not hesitating to hurt someone that cares so much for him. Izuku is furious that Katsuki hasn’t changed at all.

Even so, the freckled teen feels relief. That someone was there, that someone actually stepped up and defended him.

(That someone was his hero, differently from when All Might saved him from the slime monster.)

Izuku launches himself towards Kirishima, wrapping his shaking arms around him. He wants to say all of those things so badly, but he fails. Kirishima’s soft arms hold him back and caress him, fingers running through his messy green hair.

“It’s okay,” Kirishima whispers to him, and says those same words countless times. Izuku’s cries are muffled by his shirt.

It’s like everything else disappears, and it’s only Kirishima and Izuku in this world. Kirishima shields him from every insult, every kick, every punch and slap across his face and his ruptured heart. Kirishima embraces his scars and making sure to be there to tend to them.

Izuku can only cry.

--

Later that night, Kirishima stays with Izuku in his dorm. It’s not like he can sleep with Katsuki’s room right next to his.

Izuku has already dried his eyes out of tears, and flooded Kirishima’s shirt as a result. Regardless, the two boys are glued to one another in Izuku’s bed, Kirishima rubbing his shoulders and the back of his neck. Izuku can’t help melting and clinging to him.

Even so, Izuku only has one question in mind.

“… Why did you do it?”

“He hurts you,” Kirishima answers simply.

Izuku gulps. “But he’s your friend…”

“I don’t think he was ever really my friend, Midoriya.”

Izuku pulls away to face him, the scratches in Kirishima’s face clearer than ever.

“I remember our first class with All Might. Bakugo wanted to kill you,” Kirishima harshly reminds, hands tighter on Izuku. “I knew there was something wrong with him, and yet I still went on to hang out with him. I admired his skills, I called him a man, I sacrificed everything to save his goddamn life because I cared about him. I… thought he was my friend.” He pauses. “Even when he called me Shitty Hair or hit me… I thought I could endure him – and maybe I did. But in the end, I ignored who he really was, and I let him hurt someone I care about for way too long.”

“No…” Izuku protests, “please don’t blame yourself! I was the one who—”

“Midoriya, you’re my friend. I knew Bakugo sucked, and even if he was my friend, I never did anything! And I’m really, really sorry.” Kirishima cups Izuku’s cheek with one of his hands. “I’m so sorry I ignored you. I promise you, I’m not enduring any of his shit anymore.”

Izuku gapes at him. “Kirishima-kun…”

“If he ‘cares’ about me, I don’t give a crap,” the red-eyed boy says firmly. “He sure as hell doesn’t respect me, only when I behave the way he wants. I don’t owe him anything, and I’m not standing around and letting him hurt me or my friends ever again.”

Maybe he should insist. Tell Kirishima that, if it weren’t for Izuku’s pathetic existence, his friendship with Katsuki wouldn’t have ended.

But Izuku doesn’t.

Because Kirishima is right.

Izuku’s hand touches his face, internally flinching when he feels the wounds caused by Katsuki.

“I just don’t want you to hurt because of me,” Izuku admits.

“Midoriya… nothing Bakugo does to me could ever hurt more than knowing he’s abused you for your whole life.”

Abuse. The same word he used for Katsuki earlier today.

“I’ll make sure he never hurts you again, okay?” Kirishima squeezes him. “I promise.”

Although he doesn’t literally say it, it’s clear to Izuku the love in his friend’s words.

The love in Kirishima’s smile whenever Izuku stutters and says a jumbled mess. The love in Kirishima’s concerned eyes when Izuku insists he’s okay when he isn’t. The love in his red eyes and words when Katsuki hurt him. The love in his touches, his soft hands protecting Izuku, understanding his scars.

Kirishima loves him. He really does.

Izuku bursts in tears again and Kirishima lets him, soothing him until the end.

[sims2bellaswan]

pas de deux VII [Bruno Bucciarati x Reader | Risotto Nero x Reader]

[SFW]

AO3 VERSION

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

You’ve worked your whole life to earn a place in the Rome ballet company, yet everyone seems to work against you.

Between the stress of working to match the other dancers to unforeseen romantic issues, problems just seem to pile up.

Your alarm woke you up, much to your annoyance. You had slept like a baby last night, the evening spent working. You took a long, warm shower before applying topical pain medicine to your calves and thighs. Taking your sweet time to make a hearty breakfast, you savored every bite before leaving. You deserved it after all the hard work you had done last night.

The walk was leisurely, quietly checking different social medias. Your accounts were full of ‘congratulations’ after officially announcing your entrance to the company. You smiled to yourself, taking the moment, while stopped at a crosswalk, to slip your phone back in your pocket.

The doors are still heavy but instead of feeling dread at the aspect, you open them with a start. Today’s a good day: you’re well-fed, you’re early so you’ll get to practice a bit before your first class, and it’s sunny. The labyrinth of decadent halls, while dimly lit, were bustling with enough activity that you felt pleasant.

The morning sun painted the studio gold, refractions of its light on the floor from the mirrored walls. Where you expected an empty room, you saw Bruno, stretching in silence.

“G’morning, Bruno.” You set your bag in the corner, giving him a moment to respond. Sitting down, you slipped off your civilian shoes and pulled on your ballet slippers, giving him another moment to respond. “Bruno,” you had turned your head back to him.

“Did you have sex with Signore Nero last night?” He deadpanned. It made you do a double take. Now, he was giving you a moment to respond as he rose from the stretch.

“Excuse me?”

“Did you sleep with him?” He sounded angry but with his back to you, you couldn’t see his expression to make sure.

“Absolutely not.” You felt your face heat up at the very thought. Turning back to your shoes, “I’m offended that you would even entertain the thought.”

Bruno sighed, deeply. Did he really think you were lying? Why would you lie about this? “I heard that you were here until eleven,” He began. “As your friend, I-”

“As my friend, you should trust I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” You cut him off, a bit more harshly than you intended, but your frustration began to get to you. “He walked me through a pas de deux, that’s literally all we did.”

Whether he believed you or not, he didn’t voice his opinion.

The tension continued through the lesson. You didn’t initiate conversation with Bruno afterwards, nor did he wait for you at the door. You caught up with him in the halls, panting a bit as you slowed to a stop to match his pace.

The two of you were silent for a long moment, walking together as you always do. Though your destinations differed, this was precious time to spend chatting about technique or making small talk. Today was different, neither of you wanted to break the wall that had been built.

Gulping down your nerves, you began, “I don’t think this is reason enough to ignore me, Bruno.”

He glanced at you for a split second, no answer from him.

Thus, you continued. “You know full well I’m not that type of person.”

He took a deep breath in, quickening his pace slightly. “I advised you not to see him, yet you did anyway.” His brow furrowed for a moment, in thought, then relaxed. “Do you not care about your reputation?”

“He was helping me, my reputation shouldn’t be at stake because I needed extra lessons.” You tried to match his pace. The frustration from the morning reviving in your chest, your face felt hot.

“I was helping you, was that not enough?” Bruno stops at the entrance hall, turning to you. For the first time all day, you can read him like a book. He’s upset, not angry with you, but disappointed, a tang of heartbreak towards you. You felt guilt begin to eat away at your frustration.

Trying your best to swallow down the guilt, to swallow down an apology, you steeled yourself. Friend or not, he had no right to dictate whether or not you received external help. “It was more than enough and I’ve thanked you more times than I can count.” You felt your lungs constricting in anxiety. “But, even so, I need his help.” You were near pleading.

“I could help you, we could help each other.”

“That’s not what I mean, Bruno.” You bit your inner cheek, a distraction from letting things you don't mean spill out.

“Then, what do you mean?” His tone hurts your heart.

You don’t know what you mean. You can’t say that, you don’t want this to escalate any further. “Bruno,’ You trail off, not quite knowing what you want to say to him.

Bruno was a man deterred. He opened his mouth, slightly, to speak, but decided against what he would’ve said. It took a few moments of silence before he tried again, “I don’t want you to fall victim to a man who doesn’t care about you or your reputation.” He sighs, “I’m only angry with you because I care.”

He cares. He cares and you were frustrated with him for caring. God, you felt like such an asshole. “You’re not understanding me.” You tried to reason, “This is a huge break for me, this could mean everything.” Without giving him a chance to interrupt, you rush your words out. “I’m willing to do whatever I can to make this work.”

His expression turns, back to the faint anger you saw before you felt guilty. “Doing whatever you can shouldn’t mean whoring yourself out.” His tone is bitter. “You’ll have no luck making a name for yourself with such pitiful acts.”

Woah. Ok. Wow. You’re dumbfounded for a moment. He still doesn’t believe you. After you confided in him about your fears with Risotto, after the fiasco at the gala. He still isn’t on your side. You don’t know what to say, fearful anything you could come up with will only result in an aggravated retaliation.

“You should be ashamed.” With that, he leaves. You watch him exit, unsure of whether to follow him or just pad home like a hurt animal. You turn, using the wall as support.

There is something stopping you from breaking down right then and there. The halls are empty, most dancers found their ways out for lunch. Head in hands, you can't bring your tears to fall. Whether it be pride or just the absurdity of your closest friend turning on you, everything felt wrong.

A deep breath, then another, you push yourself up and off the ground.

The restroom was empty too. Eerily so, you felt like you haven’t seen the company empty for any long amount of time. Maybe, everyone heard the hushed argument with Bruno and decided to haul ass before it got too heavy.

The woman in the mirror was one you saw often lately. Puffy eyes, reddened cheeks, she was a visage you found little comfort in. Though, after today, you guessed you’d find little comfort just about anywhere else too.

[lynenspray]

wenri 01

prompt: gp yeri getting hard while watching a movie with wendy and she’s really embarrassed and inexperienced but wendy takes care of her problem

---

tonight (let’s test all the borderlines)

(wenri handjob cumplay)

yeri would have found the entire thing hilarious on any other given day. 

if she was feeling herself that night, she would have ripped this stupid film apart. like, how did the bathroom walls suddenly change from red to pink? was there no script supervisor for this? it was like they didn’t even think of trying.

but it wasn’t a regular night. tonight was the first time yeri was over at her lover’s place for a cute little sleepover for two cute little girlfriends. 

so yeri had to take precautions, including jacking herself off right before she came over just so there wouldn’t be any weird hard-ons that might overwhelm wendy or make things awkward for her.

it was just her luck that the video she watched to help herself only hours before had the exact same audio as the one playing on the movie. which, in turn, made yeri have the exact same reaction.

that brought them here, with yeri hiding a boner beneath the throw pillow in her lap as wendy squinted at her and the movie continued.

"are you alright?" 

she was absolutely not alright.

“yeah, just peachy,” yeri squeaked out, lying. “like the bathroom walls.” she laughed nervously as wendy sent her a doubtful stare.

wendy hummed and tilted her head. “you’re peach-coloured, too.”

shit. yeri felt the sweat drip down her neck. “that’s just–um. it’s hot in here.”

“you literally nagged me to turn up the heating.” wendy’s tone was suspicious. “are you sure? is this making you sick?” she asked as the audio in the background continued on, literal pornographic moans ringing throughout the living space.

the younger girl palmed her sweating face, feeling herself flush even more.

“if you’re feeling hot you should take this blanket and pillow off.”

yeri closed her eyes and exhaled very, very slowly. the sounds echoed around them, and she knew that it was now or never. maybe she could save face by coming clean; otherwise she’d just be a mess. okay. okayokayokay here goes–

“I have a boner right now.”

she blanched when she heard wendy’s muffled giggle. 

“hey!”

her girlfriend waved a hand, but the smile on her face was still present. “sorry, sorry, I’m not making fun of you. it’s just funny that you were so excited for this–though you should have told me you could be excited in other ways…” 

yeri groaned at the dumb joke. “look, I’m going to just–I’ll need to take care of this for a bit. we can watch another film,” she said, relieved that the mortifying situation was kind of over, and made a move to stand before wendy held her back with a hand on her arm. 

“maybe I can help?”

the younger girl felt her jaw drop. help…? did she mean she would–? here?

wendy bit her lip, and yeri’s eyes followed the movement. “it’d be more comfy than, I don’t know, doing it alone in the restroom. I don’t mind.” the volume of her voice decreased until yeri barely heard the last statement.

“I–” what was she supposed to say? no? when wendy was the one to offer? even if she wanted to, she didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable; the most that they’d done was heavy petting, after all. “are you sure you want to do that?”

the older girl furrowed her brow in the cutest way, tilting her head and pouting. "do you not want to? I'm sorry–I thought–" 

"I do! you of all people should know that." yeri admitted, avoiding her gaze. it was embarrassing to say this stuff out loud. 

wendy paused the film before leaning forward to kiss her cheek, sliding a hand beneath the pillow and along yeri's thigh as she moved closer. "then let unnie help. let's make you feel better, hmm?"

yeri stifled a groan as her girlfriend's whisper was accompanied by a hand moving past her crotch and a finger sliding under the waistband of her pajama pants. how–why did wendy sound so sexy? 

within a few moments yeri found herself holding onto wendy's shoulder as the older girl took command and slid the garter of her underwear just past her balls, revealing her aching cock. 

she stared breathlessly as wendy's hand wrapped perfectly around it, as wendy's lips continued to nip and kiss at the junction of her jaw and neck, as wendy's nails on her other hand drew lazy circles along yeri's thigh. 

"oh, god." yeri had never heard herself sound so weak, nor seen herself so hard. 

her swollen cock looked so heavy and ready to burst as wendy's fingers spread her precum carefully. 

"uhn, shit," she hissed, involuntarily jerking her hips as wendy's thumb brushed the inch just past the crown of her dick, the spot where she was most sensitive. 

she didn't notice how her hips started rolling on their own, nor how her nails dug into wendy's arm. all she knew was that it felt so so so good. 

"it's okay, baby, unnie's got you."

yeri grit her teeth, feeling a familiar palpable heat settle in her gut as her body prepared to cum–but no. she was not doing to cum from a fucking twenty-second handjob, no matter how good wendy's hand felt around her. she'd barely even stroked her, more of held and squeezed her pulsating member and kissed her neck. 

"hey, it's okay," wendy moved back and stared at her in concern as yeri looked at her. her pupils were blown wide and dark, and her face was flushed too. "just let go, baby. I know you want to."

oh christ. yeri whimpered something incoherent as wendy shifted until her head was right above yeri's shaft. she watched in amazement as the older girl let drool drip past her lips and drop right onto yeri's dick, lubricating her.

"h-holy shit," yeri whined, rolling her head back as her pace turned frantic. wendy's fingers stroked and slipped along her length, faster, faster, faster. "unnie," she breathlessly groaned, feeling the telltale coil in her gut start to burn as her hands tried to find purchase somewhere, anywhere, fearing that she could burst and fly away. "unnie, unnie, I–oh my god–" 

she could faintly feel wendy's mouth right by her ear, whispering things that made little sense to her groggy lust-filled mind, incomprehensible except for the older girl's sudden growl of "cum for me, baby."

yeri came quietly. her mouth was open without a single sound coming out, but her body spoke for her as wave after wave of liquid fire crashed over her. she jerked silently into wendy's hand, spurting her hot seed over the older girl's fingers and making a mess of them both as her cream stained her night pants and even a little bit of her shirt. 

she heaved a sigh as she tried to catch her breath. holy shit. holy fucking shit was that hot. 

"you're still hard." wendy's voice was laced with a bit of teasing, but also something much darker. "and you ruined your pants."

yeri watched, still speechless, as wendy maneuvered herself to kneel between her legs. 

"can I help you clean up?" she tugged on her pants more, fluttering her eyelashes at her. she placed her other hand on yeri’s tip, spreading the cum, testing how far yeri would let her go. “is this okay?”

the younger girl groaned, out of words, and merely placed a hand on wendy's soft brown hair to encourage the girl to lean forward and enclose yeri's still-hard cock in her warm, wet mouth. 

[ladybugsfanfics]

Shut Up And Kiss Me [7/?] | Tom Hiddleston x reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Style: part 7 of ?

WC: 4.3k

Warnings: cursing, Tom being a gentleman, 

Summary: You and Professor Hiddleston have been colleagues for many years now, and through those years the hatred for each other has only grown. Now, as a new school year starts, you’re being told that you have to share a classroom or a class. Neither are happy about the outcome, but knowing you’ll never come to an agreement, you let the class choose for you. Team-teaching is rare in 2019, but it is a lot harder to do when you can’t stand the person you’re doing it with. 

A/N: oof, this part took a long time for me, but I really like it and I hope you do to ^_^ also, thanks to @adefectivedetective for helping me with the idea of a play, it helped tremendously and I had so much fun writing it <3<3 enjoy!

send an ASK to be added to the taglist ^_^

Previous | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

It’s deathly annoying to relay the message to your best friend, and Benedict, and to the other few people (that’s a lie; there are no other people) you’d told about your payback on Hiddleston. Reality is; he’s just too kind. Yeah, you can be a bitch, but there’s a limit to how big of a bitch. 

Still, it sucks to not do a carefully planned out prank which would peg him down a notch and also (was supposed to) make him lose a little bit of the reputation he carries around that does him no good―honestly you’re getting sick of it. 

But you can’t do anything now. 

Hiddleston is just too nice. He offered to drive you home more than once last week after he did so two weeks ago. He offered to help you with your research―how he would be of help neither you nor he knows, but he offered and they say it’s the thought that counts. And worst of all, when you’d complained about Chris’s last day being Thursday, he had offered to take the whole Creative Writing class, giving you the chance to spend more time with the one week fling you’d had. 

There is just too much nice emanating from the person that is Hiddleston, and it’s getting on your nerves because you can’t be mean anymore. Now, mean makes you sound like even more of a bitch than you can be at times, and the times when you’re actually being a bitch, you sound even worse. That is a problem.

Maybe that’s a new reason for hating Hiddleston; he is so nice you can’t hate him that he makes you look like a horrible person―which is very wrong (though not always)―and he doesn’t even look guilty about it. 

The audacity. 

He even has the audacity to look kind of… handsome?... where he sits across from you in the café. This had been your idea, as a thank you for letting you cut class and go on that date. You’d asked Friday night, before you left to enjoy your weekend. 

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you again,” you said. “You hadn’t had to do that.”

He waved it off and gave you a smile. “No, it’s okay. I hope it was worth it, though? Did you get to say a proper goodbye?”

You nodded. “Yeah, it was really nice. But, as a repaying, what do you say we grade these stories together? Over coffee? Sunday, maybe?”

To be honest, you hadn’t expected him to say yes. And you’d both established there is nothing more to it than wanting to grade the first stories together, and a way for you to give back what you feel you owe.

But it annoys you that the thought drunk you had so many weeks ago has to linger at the back of your mind. Now of all times. It’s not like you haven’t thought so before―you can’t deny facts. 

Hiddleston is handsome, always has been and probably always will be. But that doesn’t mean he has to dress up for work and coffee with you. After all, he isn’t supposed to like you very much, yet there he sits;

His ginger hair is slicked back, curling up under his ear and in his neck. Every now and then he adjusts his glasses, either by lifting them entirely or by using his middle finger to push them back―considering how much he does the latter, you’re almost certain he’s sending you a message, one you would expect, but because everything else seems wrong, the message seems like something else. The blue eyes he hides behind the frames flicker over the words on his screen with an intensity you haven’t seen before. He keeps looking at it, scrutinizing the story and continuously making notes―the sound of his keyboard is slowly getting on your nerves. 

But, to be fair, it’s his clothes that triggers the handsome thought most. He wears the same sweater as always, dark blue that clings to his arms but falls a little everywhere else. The pants he wears are the same as always. The first time you saw the look, when you first met him, it was fancy and sophisticated, but now it feels old. 

Yet, at this very moment, it suits him in such a way it’s almost… You don’t have a word for it, but the way it has you swallow a lump in your throat and try to refocus your attention on the words on your screen doesn’t sit well. 

Benedict may have been right in assuming you’ve never really hated him, but that does not mean you like-like him. He’s handsome, you were attracted from the first moment you laid eyes on him, and that’s it. There’s nothing else to it. 

Drunk you probably admitted to him being handsome. Drunk you tried to say you like him, have a crush. Drunk you is known for being wrong. Plus, mixed with sleep deprived you, they are both known for making rash decisions. 

You shake your head. There is no need for this mindset, no need to contemplate Hiddleston, or his looks. All you have to do is read this story, comment on it and grade it. And then do that with the next one, and the next, and hope that you’re not too caught up in thoughts to not properly do your job. 

No.

You can do it. You can read the sentence. 

You can’t read the sentence. Nope, it’s all blurry. Fuck. “Uhh, I’m just gonna go… you know,” you say softly and gesture in the direction of the restrooms. 

Hiddleston looks up at you and nod, no real expression on his face. And is fast to turn back to the task at hand―if you’re correct he’s probably already read and graded a third of his stories. You’re still stuck on the first one. 

But you shake that thought off as well, get up and find the restroom. 

You close the door behind you and take a deep breath. There should be no reason for this, no reason for everything to bubble to the surface because something changed in the last month that distorts the ideal you got from him from the last three and a half years. 

The Christmas Party is a long time since. He’s probably forgotten, even if you haven’t. After all, it’s within you the guilt lies. Oh, I wish I could hate him. 

You shake your head and move to the sinks. Despite wearing some make-up, you turn on the sink and splash your face with cold water. It runs down your skin in a tickling manner, but it’s better than the heat that had made its way there. If you blush in his presence, so much as show any sign of weakness, blood will be spilled, and it will be yours. 

A deep sigh and a dry of your face makes for five minutes later. Where all you do is stare at the face in the mirror and ask what’s going on. But you know what’s going on; you’re becoming friends, or at least colleagues that can work together. 

So you nod, walk back out and sit down across from him with a newfound sense of courage and confidence. It makes it easier to concentrate on the work ahead, easier to concentrate on the story in front of you. 

God, I hope this isn’t going to be a regular occurence.

---

Being told there’s a Monday morning meeting is not the news you need when you step into the teacher’s lounge to steal a cup of coffee. Literally anything but the news of a morning meeting would be fine―especially when the person relaying the news is Hiddleston with somewhat of a smirk playing on his face that grows bigger when you groan loudly. He may be nice, but he still has some spark left. 

You walk together into the meeting room, where every professor have crammed themselves inside. There are no free chairs and the two of you lean against the wall in the back, hoping it’ll be over before it even starts. 

“You know what this is about?” you ask Hiddleston. 

He shakes his head. “Not a clue. Maybe there’s some change in something?” 

You cock a brow. “Change in what? Pay? Could use a raise now that I think about it.”

The comment gets a chuckle as a response, which has you smile triumphantly. Hiddleston doesn’t say more before Dean McHallan stands at the front with a nervous smile and a note card in his hands. 

“Hello everyone, so lovely that you could all take the time out of your morning to cram in here. I know it’s a bit crowded, but I hope you can bear with me,” he says with a small smile. The chatter dies down and every professor looks at the dean. “Now, what I have to say will probably surprise a few of you, but also make some happy. We have been asked to do a play in front of the students.” A groan erupts amongst the faculty, quickly hushed by McHallan. “Not long, it will only last for about a month with only one show, but with a message we want to give. Now, the play was written by our lovely drama teacher,” ―he gestures to a woman who stands at the side with a big smile― “and we have already figured out who should play the parts, seeing as there might be a rather few number of you who actually would volunteer to participate.”

McHallan sends a new smile out in the room. “Now, let’s see here.” He pulls the paper closer to him. “The male lead has been handed to Tom Hiddleston.” 

There’s a little cheer, but mostly uninterested clapping. With the exception of the drama teacher who looks Hiddleston’s way with a big smile and a flirtatious flutter of her lashes. Hiddleston himself gives a smile and nods, accepting the role just like that―probably not too weird seeing as the man always wanted to make it as an actor. 

You whisper a congrats to your coworker, who gives you a tight lipped smile in return. 

The dean coughs to get the attention back to him. “Now, for the female lead.” He takes a break, gaze travelling over the women in the room. “Y/N Y/L/N!” 

You blink. Frown. Stare at McHallan, who shoots you a smile from where he stands at the other end of the room. Hiddleston mumbles congrats and laughs at your expression. Most shrug, not really caring, but a kind of shriek erupts and everyone turns to see the drama professor glaring your way. 

“Excuse me,” she says, “how can she get the female lead in a play I wrote?” She gestures to herself. “Drama teacher,” then to you, “history teacher. Do you not have eyes?” 

“I agree with that, she can get the role if she wants to,” you say nodding. 

Of course, McHallan shakes his head and in your peripheral vision you see Hiddleston shake his, too. “We picked names from a hat, everyone has been assigned something so don’t go crazy from one role, okay?”

That discussion went over fast. You sigh and roll your eyes at Hiddleston’s smug expression, and then listen as McHallan lists the other characters and who were assigned them (Benedict got a tree, though he looks happy about it). 

---

The students file into the classroom as you read through the script. You read through it last night, or some of it, but you need to know if you read correctly at that last part. Because if you did―well, it won’t go well. For anyone.

“Awfully dedicated for someone who doesn’t want the role,” comments Hiddleston. 

You look up at him to see him put down his bag and shrug. “Did you know that the interaction in this between the two leads is the opposite of ours?” 

He nods. “I read through it last night. Not sure how you’ll pull it off.” 

“‘Not sure how you’ll pull it off’,” you mimic, “excuse me, but they kiss! They kiss.” 

“What are you worrying about? It’s just a kiss.” Hiddleston smirks and you swallow the feeling that shoots up at the thought of kissing him. You’re not sure whether you want to throw up or just need to eat something, but the twisting in your gut is not one of pleasure. 

Shaking off the thought, you put down the script and look up at the students in front of you. The chatter flows through the room, some seeming to be about what you just put down. Hiddleston coughs for attention and it quiets down, but their interest is piqued and a few hands shoot into the air. You nod for one of the boys on the first row to speak.

“Is that paper you were holding the reason you weren’t here on Thursday? Are you going to leave for an acting job?” 

You shake your head. “No, the paper and my absence on Thursday do not correlate. And no, I am not leaving for an acting job, because that script is for a play we professors are putting on for you guys.”

If it’s possible for multiple people to share a frown, that is what the thirty students do. “Why? And who are you playing?” a voice asks from the back row. 

“We were lucky enough to get the leads,” says Hiddleston and you roll your eyes. 

“Correction. He was lucky, I was unlucky because I do not want it.” 

Another ‘why?’ pops up. 

“First, I am no actor. Second, I’ll be playing opposite this dude and the two leads are love interests. I am not… I just don’t think I'm good enough of an actor.” You shake your head and press your lips together. 

“Can you show us some?” asks a voice in the middle. You can’t detect who said it, but you would love to let them know never to ask that, but before you can answer no, Hiddleston nods, says loudly ‘yes, sure’ and pulls out his script. 

You glare at him and try to put on a mask for the students. Some laugh seeing your resignation as you pick up the script again. “What do you want to see?” you ask, not wanting to choose anything. 

A chant of kiss scene erupts and your mind goes blank. That’s where we are, wow great. 

Hiddleston smirks, the same one as before. “Afraid of playing out some of it? Maybe they’ll boost your confidence enough to go through with this?” 

You sigh. “I wish I got the same role as Benedict. I would die just to play a tree.”

But that doesn’t help now and you find the―thankfully―only kiss scene in the script. It’s near the end with a long dialogue before it happens. Already now, your gut churns at the thought, nerves creeping up your arms and back, filling you with dread. This will never turn out good, especially not when you’re acutely aware of your students stares―at least they’re more attentive than usual.

“For context sake,” says Hiddleston, “before this a lot of things have happened that have caused the two characters to be rather wary of each other.” 

You nod, sigh and look down in the script. You don’t know the words by a long shot, but you know Hiddleston starts at least. And then he does. 

“I’m sorry.” You look up at Hiddleston and see the regretful look he sends you. “I didn’t mean to… it sort of happened.”

A deep breath. “How does that matter? That’s not an excuse, nor an apology.” 

Hiddleston takes a few steps closer to you. Your heart pounds in your head reading over the words he’s about to say. “No, it’s not. But it’s the best I have.” You look up and lock eyes with him, lock eyes with deep blue, so full of regret, eyes. “I love you.”

Your throat feels dry but you look back down in the script. “Not enough,” you say and despite the fact that you should look up and in his eyes, yours stay trained on the script. 

“How much is enough? What else do I have to do to prove my love?” Hiddleston tilts your chin up with a finger―god he’s a good actor―and you see the sadness that coats his face. “I would kill for you, love. I would―”

“It doesn't matter what you would.” You look back down in the script, losing Hiddleston’s gentle touch. “It matters what you did.” You take a step back, creating bigger distance between the two of you. 

Hiddleston meets your look and then glances down in the script. “Tell me what I can do. There has to be something.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. You ignore your gut wrenching, the sweat coating your back and the obvious tension that lies like a blanket over the room. In your peripheral view you can see the students watch the two of you with curious interest, but instead, you let the pause break and open your mouth.

“Let me punch you.”

There’s a snicker in the student audience but your eyes are trained on Hiddleston’s reaction. He sighs, nods and opens his arms. “As hard as you need to.”

In the script, your character walks back to him, so you do the same. It says to lightly punch him, to act as if you take out your frustration by repeatedly hitting his chest and then, with tears streaming down your face, curl into it and let him embrace you. To be honest, you could use the hug, and you could use the punching bag. So you lightly do what it says, not really punch him but you make it look like that, and for some reason you’re comfortable enough to act like you’re crying and curl into Hiddleston’s chest. His strong arms secure you tightly, and you feel the heat rise in every inch of your body by how close you are. 

And then it’s the kissing part. You’ve read it more times than you can count. You know the words, the acting. But you don’t want to admit to it. 

The students are all quiet, probably leaning close and you hear someone whisper about the kiss coming soon. 

You pull from the embrace, though still close to him you look up at Hiddleston. He looks down at you, a pained smile on his face―completely in character―and then the words, spoken as a whisper, “Kiss me.”

Thankfully, oh so thankfully, Hiddleston smiles and pulls away, turning to face the students and bowing. You use a moment to realize what’s happening, but do the same as him and plaster on a smile. It’s not like your heart is beating a mile a minute. Like you wanted the kiss, no you didn’t. That’s silly. Weird. 

No, you shake it away, take the compliments that you are more than a good enough actor, and then relish in getting to actually start class. There are other, more important things than a play happening, and one of them is to teach a class. 

---

Lunch on Friday doesn’t come fast enough. After a class and then using your spare time―usually used for research, grading papers or planning classes―have gone to learning to play a role you don’t want to play, you need the break. The drama teacher, albeit angry about the whole ordeal, helps you out whenever she can and you’re grateful to her for her help, especially in knowing what message she wants to come across with the play, but it’s tiring. 

You slump down in the chair across from Benedict, mumbling a ‘hi’ to him and Eddie. They both cock their brows in you direction but neither says anything as you bite into the sandwich you prepared that morning. 

“Grumpy today, or?”

You divert your gaze to Hiddleston, who sits down in the free chair and places his lunch on the table. “Oh, how nice of you to comment on the fact that I don’t enjoy seeing your face.” 

He chuckles. “Sorry, what’s going on?”

“The usual this week. McHallan said we’re doing this for a month with one show, and I don’t wanna do this at all. The show we had on Tuesday was more than enough,” you say and take another bite. 

“Is she hard on you?” 

You finish chewing before answering, swallowing with your hand in front of your mouth―manners, right? “Hard? She glares at me during the entire thing. I bet she wrote it all just to be able to play the lead herself and kiss whoever got the male lead, and considering how happy she was when that was you I bet you’re that person.”

“Wait?” Benedict gets your attention. “You have to kiss?”

“Yes, Mr. Ignorant, we do.”

Benedict holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I find it amusing. But either way, I don’t have the script since I have no lines and… thank you for the information.”

You roll your eyes and take another bite of your sandwich. 

Hiddleston smiles, amused probably. “She’s a little mad about that part. Especially after Tuesday and we showed a scene for our students and they ended up writing small paragraphs of us as a couple. They are, I think it’s called ‘shipping’ us now.”

“Oh, tell them welcome aboard. A lot of us have been doing that for a while now.” Benedicts comment only gets him a glare from you, something Eddie seems to find very funny, so you send one his way, too. 

“I just don’t see why we have to. I don’t want to kiss his ugly face,” you say. 

“It’s a play. It won’t last long,” replies Hiddleston. 

You press your lips together and find the picture you sent of it to Y/BFF/N earlier in the week. “It says here ‘kiss for thirty seconds, tongue is appreciated’. They want us to make out in front of the whole college. Excuse me but I can barely stand your face. The only good that would come of it is that I would have my eyes closed and wouldn’t have to look at you.”

“Well, at least you know what’s it like to make out with someone with a beard,” comments Benedict. 

You count to ten in your head. “I’m going to let that slide because I don’t hate you, but you are on thin ice. Be sure I’m not certain I want to help you next week after all. However, I’m there for your kids and not you, so you might be lucky.”

Eddie snickers from where he sits, a grin on his face and eyes flickering between you and Benedict. “To be honest, I thought this would be a quieter table, but I was wrong. I don’t mind, though.”

Hiddleston smiles. “Had she not been here, it would have been. But a little less fun, though.” 

You sigh and decide not to comment. It’s neither worth it, nor do you really have a good comment. At least he called you fun. 

 ---

Usually, you wouldn’t make the trip to the store on a Saturday meant to be inside and do nothing. Yet, there you find yourself, walking determinedly to the hot chocolate section and picking up a box of powder to make instant hot chocolate. On the way to the register, you swing by the candy department and grab your favorite chocolate. 

Yeah, it’s that time of the month. 

You manage to grab with you a bag of chips as well, and some berries, and oh, pastries look so good. Yup, chocolate donuts it is. 

As you stand in line, you’re certain you saw a ginger bob of curly hair. And you’re correct, as Hiddleston comes to stand in the queue behind you. 

“That’s a lot of chocolate,” he says and you nod. “Baking something? Or just relishing in it being Saturday?”

You nod. “Sure, we can say those are the reasons.”

“Oh, oh. Sorry, I don’t think that far.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t think about it, it’s really nothing. I’m just grateful there’s not much pain right now.”

Hiddleston nods. “I have heard that isn’t exactly lovely.”

“So,” you say, “what are you doing here?” You place the items you have―which became more than planned―on the conveyor belt, putting one of those rectangles to separate your items from Hiddleston’s and the guy in front of you. 

“Here for a last minute shopping, really. Found out I lacked some food,” he says. 

You nod. “Food is smart, that’s true.” 

“Yeah.”

The silence lasts after that until you get your total. You put your card in and type the code and press ok and… rejected. “That’s.. I’ll just try again.” And rejected. 

Fuck.

“Let me pay.” Hiddleston looks at you, a trying expression on his face, but you don’t have much choice. 

“I’m paying you back,” you say matter-of-factly. 

He nods. “Sure, you are.” He smiles at the woman behind the register when it goes through and says yes to the receipt. You snatch it from him and put it down in the bag you bag your groceries in. It’s not much, but it’s enough and you saw the price, you will pay him back. 

You wait for him to bag his own items before exiting the store together. When you near your car, you glance at him. “I will pay you back.”

“You need information to do that.” 

“I have my ways.” 

He nods. “Benedict, I presume?”

You nod. “Yeah, see you Monday.”

“Bye.”

And then you get in your car with a churning gut, a sweat-ridden back and the feeling that you might not be able to pay him back. But at the same time feeling a strong need to punch him for being such a gentleman.

He doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to do anything. 

Which is exactly what makes it so hard to ignore that flutter in your stomach at the thought of him. 

permanent tags: @devilbat @adefectivedetective @gamillian

tom tags:  @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress @wolfsmom1 @loser-alert @satanskatze

tags:  @plooffairy @just-the-hiddles @jennytwoshoes @lokissidehoe @fruitfly123 @princetale @scorpionchild81 @noplacelikehome77 @winterisakiller @lostsoldieronahill @nonsensicalobsessions @cherrygeek86 @louhpstuff @olyamoriarty @sunshinein17 @kthemarsian​ @kumikowi @secretcupcakekitty @buckygrantbarnes @josis-teacup @runawaygiirl @januarycalendargirl @funny-fangirl @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpiomindfuck  @dr-kayleigh-dh @inmyworstlies @twhgirl @maah-chan @florencia93c @i-am-a-mes @o-deya @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @cantaloupewatch @carpediem-spero @createdbyanintensenerd​

bold in the taglist are people tumblr won’t let me mention :(

[thesidesareamess]

Warmth

Warnings: sympathetic deceit

Pairings: literally anyone with deceit platonic or romantic

Deceit doesn’t know where he is nor does he care. It was warm and he’s comfy.

“De I need to get up.” The warmth tried to move away only to be hugged tightly by the sleepy snake.

“No warm.” He tries to say but it comes out more like nof wam. Unfortunately, the heat doesn’t listen as it untangles itself from him much to his displeasure. Which he shows by hissing at the warmth. It freezes. Deceit is almost scared he messed up somehow. Almost.

“Did you just hiss at me?” De nods burying himself farther into the warmth. He won’t be giving up without a fight. The warmth is his and no one can take it.

“Mine.” Deceit mumbles letting his hand bunch the cloth covering his warmth.

“I really need to get up. I need to use the restroom.”

“No.”

“Deceit.”

“No.” Yes, he is being childish. He’s warm. Why would his warmth try to run away? It just doesn’t make sense. He hears a soft chuckle as the warmth finally gives in and lays back letting Deceit curl properly around it.

“Mine.” He mumbles again humming in satisfaction

“I’ll remind you when you wake up.” He doesn’t care. Maybe he will later but right now he’s happily warm.

[cricket-scribbles]

NSFW Alphabet | Diego x Eudora

Prompted by @detectivediego! Hope you like it, lovely! ♥ Check out Ao3 for extra visual aids *winkwink* Masterlist

A: Aftercare (What are they like after sex?)

Diego is very tactile after sex. He knows he can be a lot to handle for many reasons and he wants to make sure Eudora is comfortable, sated, and well-cared for. He likes running his hands over Eudora’s skin, feeling every post-orgasmic shiver and twitch of her muscles. He also likes to scoop an arm around Eudora’s waist and pull her on top of him, draping her over his chest until every inch of her is pressed to every inch of him. 

Eudora cozies up to Diego, rests her hand on his chest or his back. Presses lazy, contented kisses to the side of his neck probably where she bit him a few times earlier.

B: Body part (Favorite body part - on themselves and their partner)

Diego’s favorite body part on himself: abs. He’s not shy about it either. He worked hard to get them and he’s proud of that.

Diego’s favorite body part on Eudora: hands. The way she holds him, the way she threads her fingers through his hair then pulls with a delicious burn to his scalp, the way her fingernails bite into his back. Her hands are capable of anything and he loves toying with her fingers, kissing her knuckles, her palm, her wrist. Eudora’s favorite body part on herself: breasts. Especially when Diego falls asleep with his head there. Or kisses between her breasts. Or pinches her nipple between his teeth. Or the rasp of his stubble scrapes the curve of her breast - she’s off the moon.

Eudora’s favorite body part on Diego: Arms. When he holds her, she feels safe and secure in a way that she’s never felt before.

C: Cum

Eudora is a highly active woman. She takes extra precaution when it comes to pregnancy risks. So even though she’s on the pill, she makes sure Diego still wears a condom and he will not be cumming inside her.

Heaven for Diego is Detective Eudora Patch cumming on his tongue with her thighs clamped around his head.

D: Dirty talk (Do they engage in it? Do they like it?)

Diego has the filthiest mouth on planet earth. And he never stutters. When he’s talking dirty, he talks more than Eudora has ever heard from him before. What he says depends on his mood and his partner’s mood. Sometimes it’s sweet and sexy. Other times it’s rough and raunchy.

Eudora is a bit more sparing with her dirty talk. Only because she knows exactly the effect it has on Diego and she wants to make sure he stays hungry for it. She’s very discerning with a well-placed phrase or two whispered in Diego’s ear as her fingers wander down his chest and below his belt. She knows where the switch is to light Diego up in a heartbeat and she uses it to her full advantage.

E: Experience (How experienced are they?)

Eudora and Diego are equally experienced.

Although Diego was the first one to really show Eudora the pleasures of leather, bondage, and the head rush of adrenaline.

Eudora was the first one to show Diego the pleasure of vulnerability, how good it felt to let himself fall into Eudora's hands with complete surrender and know she will take care of him.

F: Favorite position

Doggy all the way for both.

But then there was that one time when Eudora was asleep in Diego’s bed, lying on her stomach, sheets pooled around her waist, exposing her bare back. Diego traced his fingers down her spine, over the curve of her ass, nudging the sheets aside.

Eudora woke to Diego laying on top of her as if he was shielding her from the rest of the world, his cock sliding into her to brush against her G-spot so perfectly that she gasped a shaky holy fuck into her pillow.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Diego whispered in her ear.

That became their #1 favorite position. Eudora could still reach over her shoulder and pull Diego’s hair the way he liked. Diego could say all manner of depraved dirty talk, mumbled in Eudora’s shoulder, neck, and hair. Eudora went out of her mind every time she heard Diego moan and she felt him thrust into her all the way to the hilt, completely filling her, his body covering hers protectively, his hand clutching her hip with a death grip.

Doggy is great for a quickie but this...this hit all the right spots for both of them. Literally.

G: Goofy (Sense of humor during sex or not?)

It took a while for Diego and Eudora to discover their lighter, happy side. Sex is usually a release of adrenaline and frustration for them. It’s rough around the edges, it dances along the edge of danger, teeth gritted, grasping and biting and the friction of skin on skin to forget everything else.

Once they finally relaxed and became familiar with each other, every now and then Diego lets a joke slip or a wry comment and Eudora just cracks up. And it absolutely thrills Diego to see Eudora laugh like that when she’s usually so serious on the job. 

He doesn’t ham it up all the time. He’s (adorably) shy about being cheesy and playful with Eudora but she loves to coax it out of him when she can.

Though tickling is off limits for both of them. It would simply end in a blood bath.

H: Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Diego prefers to keep any and all body hair short. Less hassle that way.

Eudora stays trimmed but only once in a blue moon will she wax. She’s too damn busy for it otherwise.

I: Intimacy (What are they like in the moment? Are they romantic or not?)

It takes a looooong time for Diego and Eudora to actually be intimate and romantic with each other. At first, sex was fast and rough and that was it.

Months later, Diego is the one to show his romantic side. Eudora had a really bad week at work so Diego set up a nice dinner for her (which he ordered from her favorite restaurant since he can’t cook for shit). He takes her hand and pulls her close, slow dancing to the muted music emanating from an apartment or a night club about a block or so away that makes it sound like it’s from another world. Eudora was utterly shocked and teased Diego a little about it which made him duck his head and look away, self-conscious. But Eudora kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder, sending Diego’s pulse skyrocketing through the roof. They hardly talked, there was no sex, and they just held each other for an hour or two.

After that, romance and intimacy factored into their lives more. Eudora loves giving Diego massages - she gets to run her hands over the muscles in Diego’s back for as long as she wants, and she catalogs every new bruise and scar that Diego never explains. Plus it turns Diego into a puddle of goo - he’s more relaxed than she’s ever seen him.

And Diego really, really loves kissing every inch of Eudora’s skin. It’s not enough to run his hands over the swell of her breast or the arch of her neck - he wants to taste her, to feel her skin against his lips. He doesn’t always have the patience for it though because he gets distracted by how good she smells or the way she hooks a thigh up around his hip. 

J: Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

After a night of vigilante-ism, Diego’s blood is pounding and if he’s not too beat up or dead on his feet exhausted, he’ll do a quick jack off session before falling into bed. 

Eudora has a wide range of masturbation methods that she likes to utilize from shower heads and bullet vibrators to dildos. She doesn’t get to do it as often as she would like, especially when it comes to stress levels from work and Diego’s escapades. But on her weekends, she definitely takes some time to treat herself right.

K: Kink(s)

Danger. Just...danger. For both of them.

Also:

Diego - BDSM (obviously) Lingerie, black is better but Eudora convinced him that red is sexy too. Stockings Almost getting caught Hair pulling (his more than hers)

Eudora -  Blindfolds Orgasm denial (hers as well as his) Hot and cold play

L: Location (Favorite places to have sex)

At first, it was just quickies in a back alley or in a restroom. Neither Eudora nor Diego wanted to open their living spaces to each other. They just wanted to fuck each other senseless.

But those were locations out of convenience, not preference.

Later on, for Diego, it was the gym. Plenty of opportunity for bondage. Had the perfect echo when Eudora got vocal. And it was just enough of a public space that there was a thrill of almost getting caught if anyone knocked on the door, looking for a late night gym session.

Until Five transported into the gym with a giant bag of popcorn in hand. The gym was a no-go after that. (Somehow, miraculously, Five got out alive with all appendages in tact. Though he still keeps a safe distance between himself and Diego at all times.)

Then it was Eudora’s apartment, or a motel room on the city’s outskirts where they were both far away from their lives.

M: Motivation (What turns them on?)

Diego: Eudora’s everything. Bonus points for when Eudora, out of the blue, sidles close and whispers something like, “I want you to fuck me against the wall. Now.”

Eudora: Diego’s shoulder holsters. When he bites her lip in the middle of a kiss. Every damn time he wears leather (which is a lot and she’s in agony).

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do. Turn offs.)

Diego - He will. not. draw blood on Eudora. Ever. If things get rough and he sees his hand print a little too dark on Eudora’s skin, he will screech to a stop, whether the safe word was used or not. He’ll call the whole thing off and pull Eudora into his lap, cradling the back of her head in his hand, kissing her shoulder in apology.

They like to tease that boundary between pain and pleasure but it makes Diego physically ill to think of seriously hurting Eudora.

Eudora - She can’t bring herself to call Diego even slightly demeaning/derogatory names. She did it once, in the heat of the moment when they were first getting together, and he didn’t flinch but there was something in his eyes that made her stomach drop. Like he believed he deserved it. Like he’d heard it before many times to the point that he’d accepted it.

She only praises him now, tells him how good he is for her. He doesn’t believe it, but she hopes he will one day.

O: Oral (Giver or receiver? No go altogether?)

Diego - Giver and receiver with equal enthusiasm. There’s something about eating Eudora out, bringing her to climax with only his mouth, lips, and tongue that fascinates and thrills him. He doesn’t have to picture words in his head. His mouth won’t clam up on him or fail him. He won’t trip over his tongue. For once, his mouth does exactly what he tells it to and he could watch the results of his efforts for days as Eudora babbles his name over and over.

Eudora - She receives more than gives, mostly because Diego is so attentive. But when she gives, she gives very, very well. She knows every spot that will make Diego arch right off of the bed, fingers fisted in her hair, in the sheets, and the most colorful obscenities pour from his mouth.

And she LOVES working him into an oversensitive state. It’s like crack to her, watching brooding Diego become a breathless, panting, squirming mess.

P: Pace (Fast or slow?)

For both Eudora and Diego, 90% of the time, it’s fast. 

5% is slow and sensual. Romantic and sweet. Doesn’t happen often. But they’re working on it.

The last 5% is so slow that it’s sheer torture - basically orgasm denial.

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

For the first few months of their not-relationship (because they refused to give it a label), all Diego and Eudora did were quickies. It took them at least six months for their first sexual encounter that lasted more than five minutes.

R: Risk (Do they experiment? Or not?)

Oh boy do they experiment! They need to learn where the breaks are ASAP. They just plunge in and don’t slow down. The thrill of riding that danger line gets them both revved up.

They have a safe word of course. But it’s a matter of pride and principles and pure buttheadedness that they never use it.

S: Stamina (How long can they last?)

Diego has more stamina and can generally go for another round pretty quickly. But overall, neither one lasts very long. They generally play hard and fast.

T: Toys (Do they own any? Do they use any on their partner? etc.)

Toys galore between the two of them.

Diego has all sorts of toys, mostly used on his partner. Handcuffs, ropes, etc.

Eudora has a decent sized collection of a variety of toys to use on herself. Due to the unpredictable and demanding nature of her job, there are stretches where she’s flying solo a lot. She doesn’t like to rely on someone else to give her pleasure when she can give it to herself. 

Also, when she’s fighting with Diego, she refuses to be the first one to break.

U: Unfair (How much do they tease?)

Diego is 50-50 on teasing. Sometimes, he’s too impatient for it. Other times, he likes to work Eudora into a frenzy and see her completely unraveled because of him.

Eudora is a master at teasing. She craves leaving Diego right on the edge, not letting him cum for hours. It takes a long time to break Diego’s iron will, but she always gets him to that pleading point eventually.

V: Volume (How loud are they?)

Eudora is fucking LOUD and Diego loses his shit over it every time.

Diego is at the medium noise range. He’ll talk dirty a mile a minute but he prefers to listen to Eudora go off.

If it’s hate sex/make-up-after-a-fight sex, sweet lord, get some noise-cancelling headphones for the entire block.

W: Wild card (Random headcanon)

Diego and Eudora are both fairly dominant personalities which is why they butt heads so often. Diego exercises his dominant side in the bedroom more often than Eudora does, simply because Diego is so used to keeping his submissive side under wraps in case someone uses it against him as a weakness.

So the first time Eudora yanked on a fistful of Diego’s hair and said very softly, “On your knees,” Diego just about came in his pants then and there.

As sexy as it is when Eudora gives orders, it’s also Diego’s knee-jerk instinct to retaliate against those same orders. So he gets VERY mouthy and bratty, to Eudora’s delight.

X: X-ray (What’s going on down below?)

Diego’s cock is...intimidating, to say the least, at 8 inches long, heavy, and thick. Every time Eudora sees it, she wants to wrap her hands around it, squeeze him or stroke him until she gets a reaction.

Eudora used to wear boy briefs or lacy underwear. Until she went commando once and wound up at Diego’s place. When he found out she wasn’t wearing any underwear, she could see the physical reaction come over him - a hard swallow, lips parted in pure, unveiled, raw hunger.

She goes commando as often as possible now, just to make Diego go a little nuts over it.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Diego - high. When he’s at a crime scene with Eudora and she has that gun strapped to her hip, he wants nothing more than to get his hands on her right then and there.

Eudora - high. One look at Diego with those knives, wearing all that tight black clothing...her mouth goes dry and all she can think about is pinning him down until he moans.

It leads to a lot of pent up sexual frustration on both sides.

Z: Zzz... (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)

They both stay awake for a little while. But Eudora usually drifts off first. Mostly because Diego can’t bear to close his eyes around Eudora in case he wakes up and realizes she was just a dream and now she’s gone. 

....whoops I made it sad

[hayjeon]

can you pls write hades and persephone please?

Anonymous said: If you haven’t gotten this request already, hades yoongi and persephone oc :’)

Anonymous said: honestly nothing FUCKS me up more than DemonKing!Yoongi or ((not the avengers but the actual god)) Loki!Taehyung

combining these three for some hades!yoongi and persephone!reader! 

OKAY IN THE BEGINNING I WAS NERVOUS ABOUT HTIS BUT HONESLTY NOW NOTHING FUCKS ME UP MORE THAN HADES!YOONGI DONT TOUCH ME OK BUT STILL SEND PROMPTS FOR THEM BC IM SO SOFT

“When will you stop visiting me when I’m bathing?” You say softly as you hear the door click. You don’t even need to look up to know that it’s your husband. Your knees are curled up to your chest and you’d forced the nymphs to turn your tub towards the fireplace, since being cold was one of the things you hated most. 

You can hear him take a seat a few feet away from you, standing near the window that overlooks the River Styx. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t try to peep, but just solemnly watches you. 

Looking over your bare shoulder, you confirm the fact, his dark gaze boring deep into you, and although your entire body is concealed under the milky water and the edge of the porcelain, you still feel so naked and so exposed under his ravishing gaze. 

Cupping the water in your hand, you run it over your shoulder, washing away the day’s worries and stresses, breathing in the aroma of the flower petals and fragrances scattered within your bathwater. The only sounds that fill the huge bathroom are the occasional quiet splashes of water and the crackling of the fireplace. And Yoongi rarely speaks when he does this, just silently watching you bathe, and never making a move to do anything that you don’t ask him to. 

You turn in your tub, spinning in the water to face him, the fireplace’s heat warm on the back of your exposed neck. Drawing your knees up to cover your chest, you lift your arms out of the water and rest them there, and you rest your chin on them, just sitting there watching, waiting, mimicking him. 

He’s dressed in a beautiful white shirt today, contrary to his usual dark apparel with black cloaks and shirts. It hangs loosely on his figure, and in the dim light of the restroom, you can see his lithe body’s outline through the diaphanous material of the silk. Although it covers him from neck to wrist, and disappears into the hemline of his usual black pants, you still feel a little glee at being able to finally see something of his, to pay him back for all the times he’s been watching you. 

But in the silence, you notice how white his skin is, pale and flawless from the areas he chooses to reveal, like his chin and neck, the slope of untainted wrist that disappears into the sleeve of his shirt. 

“What do you see?” 

His voice startles you, and you draw your eyes back up from his wrist to his eyes, dark and steady, but not angry nor resentful. Just…looking. His voice is low and steady as well, and you wonder, that maybe, if he weren’t cursed to be the god of the Underworld, responsible for the deaths of all mortals and the curses of all gods, he would have made a fine musician or a storyteller with the voice of his. 

“Is it not fair that I watch you, when you watch me as well?” You quip back, raising your chin high as he perches near the windowsill. 

He doesn’t respond, still just watching you. 

“You’re wearing white.” You comment, eyes raking down his torso again, and you think you see him shiver. It makes no sense though, because the entire Underworld is cold cold cold, and this man–your husband–has been living here as King since the beginning of eternity. 

For the first time since he came in, he breaks eye contact, eyes wandering down to his wardrobe choice of the day and then he clears his throat, blinking at something on the wall opposite of him. “You…you said you hated black.” He says, tugging slightly at the neck of the shirt. 

You rest your chin down, half because it’s cold and half to hide your small grin. You don’t know why, but the small remark made your heart skip a beat and your skin to turn suddenly hot, hotter than the fire was warming it. 

You clear your throat too, unfurling your legs and sitting up, the smile finally leaving. “Please hand me my towel,” you say softly, reaching out an arm. And Yoongi obliges, walking over to grasp the white thing and slowly steps forward towards you, with careful and deliberate, equal steps that echo through the restroom. 

Yoongi notices that you say please, and decides that it’s enough to excuse you for ordering the King of the Underworld to hand you a towel. 

You grasp the thing, and you stand, and Yoongi adverts his eyes as he hears you splash the water as you step out of the tub. It takes all the willpower within him to keep his head turned away as he literally hears the sound of water droplets run down your smooth skin and hit the tub or the floor. 

The only sound that now fills the restroom is the sound of the fireplace. 

When you distinctly shiver and he hears it in your breath, he turns to see you wrapped tightly within the white fabric, clutching it tight to your body as you sweep the restroom for your clothes. When you don’t see it, you whisper to him, “I think I must leave the room to retrieve my clothes.” 

Yoongi blinks, and thinks of you, padding down his halls with other demons and monsters roaming his palace, in just a towel and with miles of naked skin under a flimsy piece of fabric, and wants to die. If he even could. 

“No,” he says, his voice sounding a bit strained, and he clears his throat. “Let me.” 

He turns to leave, and in moments returns with a dress, a beautiful simple slip thats all lace and silk and white. Almost an exact female-version of the blouse that he wears now. The neckline is hemmed with intricate golden thread, and the sleeves softly end at the wrists with transparent and silken fabrics. He carries it gently, and sets it on the chair across the room. Lingering by the doorway, he blinks and says, “I will leave you to it then.” And turns to leave. 

“Why,” you say, a little louder than you intended but it stop’s Yoongi’s movements nonetheless, “Why do you watch me bathe?” 

He turns slowly, his heel pivoting and his head swiveling marvelously to meet your questioning gaze. For the first time that day, his gaze strays to something on your body other than your eyes. It rakes down the slope of your neck, and then the hem of the towel that’s pressed to your forearms, and then the hands clasped tightly against your chest. And then it draws down the length of the towel, lingering on the slope of your calves that peek out of the edge, and then back all the way up to your eyes. 

“It’s when you are most vulnerable, is it not?” He whispers, but because it’s only the both of you, you somehow distinctly hear it over the crackles of the fire. “Its…it’s the only way I can prove to you, that I won’t do something that you do not desire. Even when met,” he grits, eyes traveling down to your neck so quickly that you question whether you saw it correctly or not, and his jaw tightening at the end, “with the utmost desires of my heart, I will not do anything you refuse.” 

Your heart thuds and your mouth falls open slightly, and you see his eyes jump to the movement on your lips before settling on your eyes once again with a final nod. 

He walks over to the heavy iron doors. With a hand on the handle, he pushes it open and lingers for a bit, before saying one last thing, head still turned away from you. “Get dressed and come meet me in the throne room,” he whispers, “I have something to show you.” 

You nod, even though he can’t see. But suddenly, the cold castle doesn’t feel as cold as it used to be. 

→  next part

→ more fantasy drabbles here 

[lordsicheng]

A Different Tomorrow: Pt. 3

Hwang Minhyun x OC

g: angst, slice of life

summary: being someone who only went home twice a month as a teen until your early 20s, you never fully believed in a second chance at life, nor did you even believe in love. once you meet a young man near the park, your whole life could possibly turn into 180

w!: prostitution (only mentioned, not shown/written in action), profanity, mildly suggestive

A/n: again i am sosososo sorry this took so long. i rewrote this three times already and i wasn’t satisfied with the first two drafts, and once i was satisfied with the third my pc broke down and deleted over 10 of the others stories i had already premade so i am trying my best to get to a lot of others up within the next days ;; for those who haven’t read this yet, i suggest reading part 1 and part 2 first before continuing with this one. will make sure to get back on track very soon! <3

You slowly opened your eyes, having enjoyed your sleep as you sat up and noticed Minhyun wasn’t around anymore. You got off the bed slowly, walking towards the kitchen to see a bowl. You opened the rice cooker and saw that there was a new batch of rice made by Minhyun earlier, untouched. You smiled as you saw the note on the refrigerator, grabbing it as you read it

“Made rice because I finished the extra from yesterday, sorry. Just reheat the food if you want, but use a plate and the microwave. Be back at 10. Don’t forget to clean up and get ready!”

You chuckled as you looked at the clock, mortified as it was already almost past 9am, and you hurriedly grabbed the bowl and a plate to get some rice to eat breakfast. You remembered that you both were planning on going shopping, mostly just for him since you already bought so much stuff. You hurriedly ate on the dining table, noticing you made a bit of a mess, but you were really in a rush since it was already 9:30. You put all the plates on the sink right after and grabbed a towel to get to the bathroom, hurriedly taking a shower before it turns 10

“Why am I so slow” you complained, rushing while washing your hair

Minhyun arrived just exactly a few minutes after 10, looking around to see if you were already ready

“Y/n?” he called out

“Hold on!” you replied as you walked out of the bathroom already ready, wearing something more decent compared to your almost worn out outfit from the first day. You sat on the sofa and grabbed a small bag on the side and brought out a lipstick you bought, using your phone as a mirror while applying it

Minhyun couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you while he was by the sink washing his hands, checking if you had cleaned up the plates you had used that were put to the side. He nodded in approval as he noticed you did, and walked over to you, still finishing up your makeup

“Red looks good on you.” he commented as he walked over, making you feel heat from your cheeks

“T-thanks… but I think it’s too much.” you pressed your lips together in hesitance

“No, really. Red seems like a timeless color. Everyone looks good wearing it.” he nodded as he sat next to you

“So do you want to wear red lipstick, then?” you looked at him in curiosity, making him chuckle

“Thanks, but I don’t want to.” he shook his head

“Where were you, anyway?” you asked as you raised a brow

“I had to get my paycheck at work since I forgot to get it yesterday.” he smiled as he looked at his phone, making you suddenly feel guilty again for selling his keyboard

“A-are you thinking about getting a new keyboard?” you asked, almost becoming hesitant

“Nah, maybe next time. I’m not in a rush to get a new one.” he shrugged

“I swear, I’ll find a part time job to pay you back.” you clasped your hands together, pleading

“Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll wait downstairs, okay? I have to check the mail. Just bring the key since we’re both heading out.” he smiled as he pat your shoulder and walked out of the apartment, leaving you in the apartment again, sighing as you knew you really messed up

-

Minhyun was able to find good deals on some new clothes while you both were walking around the streets of Myeongdong, often trying to find clothes for you as well. But you politely declined, telling him over and over that you are fine with the clothes you bought for yourself yesterday and didn’t want to be a burden for him to spend more money on

“Here, try this pink sweater.” he said as he eyed it and tried to examine if it would fit you

“No, please. I’m good with the other sweaters I bought.” you waved your hand in decline

“Are you sure?” he chuckled

“Yes.” you beamed

He ended up buying only a few clothes here and there and you looked at him as he brought only two bags with a few clothing pieces, wondering if he did it on purpose or if he was just picky for his own clothing

“Are you on a budget or something?” you snickered while looking at the bags he brought

“I don’t think there are a lot of good clothes out at the moment. Or maybe I was too late on finding ones I like?” he smiled while looking at you

“What are you talking about? There’s tons lot of clothes here that would look really good on you!” you put your hands on your hips and stopped walking, making him turn to look at you with a smile still plastered on his face

“Soooo are you saying I would look good in basically anything?” he grinned

“W-well yeah? I mean-“

“So is that a refined version of you saying I am good looking?” he crossed his arms and smirked, and you opened your mouth in shock

“You… you’re just…” you couldn’t complete your sentence, and he laughed a bit while he thought you were cute while stuttering

“Fine! You’re handsome!” you raised your hands and walked away as he kept looking at you while laughing, shaking his head a bit and following you shortly

-

Minhyun looked at you chomping down on the bibimbap you ordered, which was bigger than you expected. You were already hungry from all the walking and you definitely needed something that had a bigger serving than how much you usually ate. Minhyun, on the other hand, couldn’t help but grin and chuckle to himself often times when he glanced at you, wondering why you became so hungry all of the sudden

“You don’t eat this much at home.” Minhyun said while taking a pause from eating

“I got really hungry from following you around.” you said while chewing on your food, not even looking at Minhyun

“If you want more we can order some others.” he chuckled as he started going back to eating

“Minhyun I don’t want to be a burden to you when it comes to money so it’s fine.” you smiled and waved off

“You’re not a burden to me.” he opposed

“But I feel like I am and it makes me even more guilty because of the fact I sold a precious belonging of yours without your consent.” you stopped eating, raising your head to look at Minhyun. He could only look at you back blankly, but he eventually burst into a soft chuckle and reached out his hand to wipe off a grain of rice from the side of your lip, then pulled back his hand as he rested his elbows on the table

“I won’t bother you with anything money related, then. I don’t want to make you even more upset.” he let out a sigh, smiling as he continued to eat

You looked at him, both mixed with a bit of fault and confusion because you couldn’t understand why he treated you like this. You felt like nothing but a nuisance to his already organized life and you didn’t want to end up being the one who would mess it up. Was he just holding back his anger towards you? Was he just being nice in the beginning? Was he restraining himself from kicking you out of his place? Something inside you, though, is telling that he’s just really good-willed. But you wanted to find out why he was like this, despite the fact that you’ve developed some sort of liking.

After eating and doing a bit more of window shopping, you both decided to head home early. You stood by the subway as it was close to sunset and you waited for Minhyun since he excused himself to go to the restroom. He came back in a hurry, seeing the crowd become bigger as he realized it was already close to rush hour

“We need to go.” he said as he grabbed the bags beside you and pulled you by your wrist, running down the stairs to get to the next train that was to arrive

“Hold on! I can’t find my card!” you said as you rummaged through your small purse with your free hand, finally seeing your card and yanking it out of the pocket

After scanning your travel cards, you both waited for the train that was announced to arrive in two minutes. You stood next to Minhyun and raised your head a bit to look at him, slowly noticing a pair of eyes was staring at him and eventually looking back at you

“Yes?” Minhyun asked with a smile

“T-thank you.” you slowly smiled back

“For what?”

“For… everything…” you shyly said and looked down. He snickered a bit and ruffled your hair, then brushed it back once the train had arrived at a full stop

-

A couple of days had passed and it was filled with much joy to you, since Minhyun literally treated you as if you both were just roommates together. Somehow, it did make you feel giddy inside whenever you were able to see him even when he was almost not around due to his work. He’d properly say goodbye to you when he was to leave and whenever you were still asleep, he’d leave a small note in case he was able to cook and so. This somehow made you feel special as a person, as if you were cared so much that it made your heart skip a beat.

While in the middle of cleaning, you looked at Minhyun reading a book at the sofa and just stared at him for a while. Minhyun began to notice your eyes glued to him, and he just gave a slight smile without looking at you

“What’s the matter?” he asked, still looking at his book

“Sorry.” you mumbled, about to turn to the side

“No, really. What’s up?” he said as he put the book he was reading to the side and finally looked at you

“Well.” you sighed, turning to look back at him

“I’m just wondering why you aren’t dating anyone. I mean… you’re really sweet and easygoing. You would make a good boyfriend—no, a husband! You’re really handsome too.” you admitted, to which Minhyun just widened his eyes a bit and slowly looked down, becoming quiet

“Oh, wait… Did I say something w-“

“I’m not in a hurry when it comes to dating. I just want to have proper feelings with someone before committing.” he sighed, nodding

“But… don’t you have experience?” you raised a brow in question

“I do. I just don’t show it.” he stood up and walked over to the other side of the room to check on his laundry, and you just turned to wash your hands and walk back to your side of the place before Minhyun could come back to check up on you

“I might as well be staying home tomorrow, by the way. I’m taking a day off and I have no class since the school is having an event.” he said as he walked over to you, smiling

“Aren’t you gonna attend?” you asked, turning to look at him

“Nope. Attendance isn’t needed.” he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets

“Alright. Good night.” you nodded

“Good night.”

You both looked at each other, you often pursing your lips as Minhyun just waited for you to go to your bed and sleep as he were to finish cleaning the rest of the place. Somehow, you took a few steps forward to walk up to him, and Minhyun also took only a step to go to you as if you both were magnets. You suddenly tiptoed a bit and kissed him on the lips as you close your eyes, him not even refraining you from doing so. The kiss wasn’t over the top, nor was it somehow like those romance novels and shows—it was rather sweet and innocent. His lips, pillowy and soft as a cloud you would describe in your mind as if you were in contact with a sweet bubblegum cotton candy piece. You finally broke the kiss yourself and stood back straight, looking at Minhyun who slowly opened his eyes from what just happened and appearing to be a little bit dazed.

“Um…” Minhyun scratched the back of his head, looking to the side

“I’m gonna go ahead.” you said, taking a few steps back and then walking to the bed where you usually slept

Minhyun couldn’t speak much and instead walked out, going to the balcony of the apartment complex  level where he often frequented and looked around.

You laid down on the bed and tried to get a grip on what just happened. You kissed Minhyun; a stranger, just some random guy who let you stay over because of his caring heart, and finally, in your admittance, someone whom you have fallen for. Sure, it had only been days, almost a week, since you both met. But he was different—he took care of you, made sure you felt right at home, and definitely made you feel safe. 

You touched your lips, trying to remember how his lips felt like on yours. It was beautiful and pure of a feeling, it wasn’t like any other person you’ve kissed before. It was like you were in your earlier years again where you had supposedly found your first love, a rather innocent kind of love.

“Love?” you thought loudly, hoping it was something that you were open enough to admit to. You had never fallen in love before, you always hoped for a happy ending and you always wanted to find the right one. You grinned, biting your bottom lip as you closed your eyes in hopes that you could fall asleep in such a pleasant mood

Minhyun, on the other hand, stood at the balcony of the apartment level and just looked at the Namsan Tower that was from far away, sighing as the cold wind seemed to rush past his jacket and into his body. But what made it extra chilly was the feeling of what just happened moments earlier.

He had kissed you, even though he wasn’t the one who initiated it. He was feeling confused but also mellow, afraid of hurting you since he didn’t want to either. He couldn’t admit to himself, and to you, that he wasn’t ready to find someone to love yet. But he knew he was close to being ready, only finding the right time on when he can find that certain someone he can call his own.

Like what you had done earlier, he also touched his lips and tried to reminisce what just happened—and it made him slightly elated. He felt at ease and it somehow didn’t feel awkward to him. No particular feelings were in the moment, but it was as if it was about to rise up as time passed. 

Chuckling to himself, he thought of what had happened again and couldn’t stop from chuckling lightly to himself as he took a couple of deep breaths before turning to walk back to the apartment, hoping you were finally asleep before you could notice from his expression on what he actually felt from the kiss.

[jimbobnob]

6 Things You Often Overlook When Buying a Hot Water Heater

A water heater is one of the must-have items in the restroom for some people. When the weather condition is cold or you are not feeling well, this water heater is a lifesaver for cleaning yourself. Finding a water heater on the marketplace is easy, besides that the design is a lot more diverse so that it can be adjusted to the look of the bathroom.

However, the issue that often happens is when you buy a water heater and after that you understand that this things does not fit the restroom and the requirements of the citizens. Before the rice becomes porridge, aka you are sorry for buying the wrong one, you need to comprehend the 6 things you typically forget when buying the following hot water heater!

1. Does the water heater have a constant temperature?

There are water heaters that have a consistent temperature and some are constantly altering. Picking a water heater that has a continuous temperature level will conserve you time when you wish to take a shower due to the fact that you do not have to trouble adjusting to the ideal temperature level in your body any longer.

2. Know the appropriate type of hot water heater

There are several types of water heaters or water heaters sold in the market. Some use gas, electrical power with tubes, electrical energy without tubes, and solar power. Gas water heaters are the least expensive among other types. You have actually to be prepared to frequently buy or change gas cylinders.

Pemanas air listrik take in a lot of electrical energy, so they are not suggested for homes with low electrical power. Those of you who desire to save electrical energy in the long term, have more funds, and dream of an environmentally friendly house can try solar water heaters.

The area of the house also influences the choice of the kind of hot water heater. If you live in a city with heats, utilize an electric water heater due to the fact that the procedure of heating the water will not last long, nor will you squander a great deal of electrical energy. For those of you who reside in the highlands, utilize a gas hot water heater which is more efficient because the water takes a long time to heat up.

3. Read hot water heater specs

To get a water heater or energy-efficient electronic item, you should read the specifications of the products offered. Usually, there is an energy-saving indication with systems of EF or Energy Factor. This indication varies from 0.5 to 2.0. The greater the EF, the more energy-efficient this water heater is. Do not slouch to compare item requirements with each other.

4. Is the hot water heater safe?

In order not to easily occur short circuits and other damage, make sure the hot water heater you pick is geared up with security components such as ELCB, security gadgets, and anti-contact switches on the outside.

5. Focus on the capacity of the water heater

The amount of water used for bathing needs to be gotten used to the capacity of the hot water heater. For instance, to fill a tub, you require a hot water heater with a capability of at least 50 liters for 1 individual and 80 liters for 2 people.

For a restroom with a restroom shower and utilized by 2 individuals, an item with a capability of a minimum of 15 liters is required. To fulfill the requirements of one family and numerous activities, you need a capability of at least 150 to 250 liters.

6. Do not ask for the installation cost or the length of the water heater pipe

In order to avoid errors when setting up a water heater, you require to hand it over to specialists. Ask the seller if you will be charged once again for the installation fee. You likewise need to know that water heating pipes are computed per meter. Before buying, ensure you have actually determined the length of the pipeline needed and request the price of the pipe.

Choosing the ideal water heater will make all locals feel comfy and effective in the long run. Are you prepared to choose and buy it?

[walkthroughtheword]

Reading for August 7th         Judges 3

Let’s look closely at the first six verses: V. 1 The unconquered nations were God’s test to the new generation of Israel The Hebrew construction for what is translated “new generation” does not just mean next generation but a generation different in values, substance and character.  This new generation had not experienced God’s miraculous deliverance from captivity in Egypt nor did they remember the initial conquest of Joshua.  They had forgotten the promise made to their ancestor Abraham, forgotten that they were set apart and were now just like everyone else; another group of “ites” in a sea of “ites” all getting less distinct each day.  In the water of the Old Testament, holiness means set apart for a special purpose and the opposite of holiness is not profane but ordinary.  The Hebrew word nasah used here is better translated test than tempt.  To tempt is to entice toward evil, “deliver us from temptation,” but to test is to make something stronger and of better quality through rigor.  These pagan and evil nations would serve to teach Israel what happens when you forget God and what happens when you repent and turn back to God. V. 2 God used them to teach this generation how to fight God’s plan was that Israel destroy an evil Canaanite culture, take the whole of the land and become a holy people.  The muddy water in which they found themselves was necessitated by the utter failure of Israel to totally engage the clear mission of God to “drive out the inhabitants.”  Since Israel was unfaithful to God, they would now live in the presence of many enemies.  If they were going to maintain a distinct identity as God’s chosen people, they had to learn to fight. V. 5-6 Israel lived among these nations, intermarried and worshipped their Gods Due to a lack of obedience to Yahweh, Israel is surrounded by enemies.  Their choice at this point is to do the really hard thing and maintain their unique identity in God or to do the easy thing and assimilate with the culture and gods of their neighbors.  They are charged with unholy assimilation.  Here are three witnesses to this charge. 1) You live among the Canaanites.  This is an indictment of the failure of the conquest.  The Canaanites should not still be here.  “You could have won.  You rejected God.  You lost.” 2) You intermarried with the Canaanites.  This blending of cultures may seem to those of us in our water as a paragon of tolerance but it is cultural death for Israel and spiritual death for you and me.  The second they become just like their neighbors, salvation history is off-line. 3) You served their gods.  The primary gods of Canaan are Baal and Ashtoreth.  Like most pagan gods they are a sexually charged couple who are responsible for all various and sundry aspects of fertility.  Worship of these gods was essentially sacred prostitution so temple attendance in this ancient culture was both good and enthusiastic.  In fact, almost all the great pagan temples of the ancients were supported by sacred prostitution, which the Jews shifted to tithes and offerings and later American Protestants shifted to bake sales.  Contrast the Baal and Ashtoreth to Yahweh.  Yahweh stands alone over heaven and earth, has no female consort and introduces to the earth what we would call morality, ethics and law. Israel has not just sinned upon the death of Joshua, Israel keeps on sinning.  If this wanton propensity for sin goes unchecked, this unique set of “ites” God was raising up to save the world will be lost in a melting pot of bronze.  Something has to give.  Something has to keep salvation history alive.  Enter the judges. This format does not allow the time to explore each judge in depth, so we will take a single judge as a case-in-point.  Let’s meet Ehud, the second judge of Israel.   Judges 3: 12-15, 21-23, 27-30 V. 12 Once again Israel did evil in the Lord’s sight so they fell to King Eglon of Moab I think we are somewhere around 1300 B.C. and there is no record of Eglon other than Judges.  As will happen so many times, Israel has forgotten God and have been turned over to foreign oppressors.  The oppressor de jour is Eglon. V. 13-14 Eglon formed an alliance with the Ammonites and Amalekites, took Jericho and oppressed Israel for eighteen years. Jericho, taken by Joshua in the famous march around the walls had been lost.  It was three “ites” against one and the Israelites in southern Israel along the east shores of the Dead Sea had been paying annual tribute to Eglon for eighteen years.  Jericho, the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world, controlled the region and Eglon controlled Jericho. V. 15 When Israel cried out to the Lord, God raised up Ehud from the tribe of Benjamin who was left handed There is no sign of repentance here, but plenty of signs of desperation.  In response, God “raises up” Ehud from among the people.  The tribe of Benjamin were known for their ambidextrous warriors and Ehud was a part of the Special Forces with a unique skill set.  It appears that boys literally were forced to learn to fight with their right hands tied behind them to give them advantage and surprise in battle.  Of special note was that Ehud was a natural lefty.  It is particularly advantageous.  The Hebrew clearly implies that he was of an elite class, with unique training that produced in him unique skills.  Not only that, he is the leader. Israel sent Ehud to deliver the tribute money to Eglon who was very fat In antiquity to be fat was to enjoy a life of leisure, rich foods and decadence.  You couldn’t come up fat in a survival of the fittest culture but you could grow fat once you had power.  Eglon was growing fat off of Israel’s tributes.  They were working, planting, building and harvesting in bondage and Eglon was living off the fat of the land, not even raising a hand to do it.  Ehud was there in an official capacity on behalf of Israel to deliver the annual taxes of the oppressed to the king. V. 16-17 So Ehud made a short, straight blade, double edged dagger and strapped it to his right thigh underneath his clothing.  In the late Bronze Age, it seemed like Israel was always outgunned but this story is a bit of an exception.  The warriors of the Tribe of Benjamin not only could fight but handcrafting their weapons by metallurgy was a part of their culture.  Only a warrior who was equally skilled fighting with either hand would craft a bronze dagger sharpened on both sides.  Concealing a dagger upon the thigh was a common practice as you must remember that men normally wore cloaks, not pants and normally wore their daggers on the left side and not the right. V. 18-19 When the delegation left and passed the idols at Gilgal, Ehud turned back alone and requested a private audience with Eglon to deliver a special message As the delegation left Eglon and Moab, they passed through Gilgal and witnessed a pagan shrine to the Baal and Ashtoreth.  It was the precise kind of shrine that God had commanded to be torn down but there it stood as a symbol of Israel’s failure in both conquest and covenant.  It is here that Ehud determined to start something only God could finish.   When he returns, Eglon suspects nothing unusual since Ehud was a designated ambassador of Israel and had just been to the palace to deliver tribute without incident. V. 20-22 Ehud approached Eglon who was sitting in an upper room and said, “I have a message from God.”  When Eglon approached, Ehud plunged the dagger into Eglon’s belly so deeply the dagger disappeared in the fat and the king’s bowels emptied.  This is where the story gets interesting.  Eglon was apparently in a room at the top of the palace that offered a chance to catch a breeze here and there in the desert heat.  When Ehud entered, the obese Eglon reached out a hand to get some help off his chair and as Ehud pulled him up with the left hand, he inserted his dagger with his right and it went in with a mighty slurp.  The Hebrew word taqA means to drive something with force, so this was a violent stab not a tentative one. V. 23 Ehud locked the door, climbed down the toilet shoot and left through the front door.  Ancient toilets were large holes covered by seats with smaller holes that emptied into an open septic area at ground level.  Ehud locks the door, removes the toilet cover, lowers himself through the sewer system to the first floor and coolly walks out of the palace. V. 24-25 The kings servants waited for Eglon thinking he was using the restroom but finally burst through the door to find him dead on the floor In antiquity, you walked in on a king uninvited at the risk of your life.  The servants were getting concerned but they did not break through the door until their concern for the welfare of their king outweighed their concern for the welfare of themselves. V. 26-28 Ehud escaped passing the idols at Seiah, arrived in the hill country of Ephraim and called for an army.  Follow me! For the Lord has given us a victory over Moab!  So they followed him and took control of the Jordan.  Ehud has assassinated the King of Moab as an official emissary of Israel.  He now travels about thirteen miles navigating an elevation change of about 4,000 feet to raise an army.  Whether Israel raised an army or not, the Moabites were coming in vengeance and wrath and Ehud informed them that the people could either fight for their freedom or die certain deaths in bondage.  When explained that way, the army formed quickly and enthusiastically and formed a line on the west side of the Jordan River at the mouth of the Dead Sea.  With both skilled warriors, good weapons and good ground, Ehud proclaimed, “God has given us victory over Moab!”  God would either give them victory or they would all die. V. 29-30 They killed ten thousand of the best soldiers of Moab and no one escaped and the land had peace for eighty years This is a big win against a good army and the text adds, “And not one of them escaped.” This puts Israel back on line with God’s original command to drive the Canaanites from the land and offered this new generation both a win and an opportunity to see God’s hand at work!  And as a result, the land was at peace for eighty years.  In Judges, peace is always something for which you must fight.