#because of the lack of interest in my content lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loaksky · 13 days ago

Text

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, who’s rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

Her reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,�� she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #vi x reader #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi smut #vi league of legends #wlw #sapphic #arcane x reader

5K notes · View notes

supemaeve · 11 months ago

Text

It will never stop amazing me how hiperfixations work, in terms of your mood and emotions, sometimes. I can be extremely pissed or sad or in a general bad mood and it will only take a quick rewatch or reading a fic I love or even just thinking about the subject of said hiperfixation to forget about how I was feeling and for my mood to improve tenfold.

That's a big reason why I get so scared when I feel it going away a little bit... I need this!

#not that my current hiperfixation is in danger of going away #yet #which is funny because it's lasted more than i ever thought it would #not for my lack of interest and love since there's more than plenty #but for the lack of content and a fandom #but maybe that actually has make it better #in a way #no messy debates and fights over bad takes and headcanons #no crazy people stepping over lines when it comes to actors and showrunners and stuff #just a pretty cool actress that people don't even know if is still alive or where she is or if she will work again #a character that isn't in the show anymore and only has like 90 minutes of content #and like 4 fans lol #sounds great to me #personal post

1 note · View note

pedroscurls · 1 month ago

Text

just the tip (one-shot)

summary: you're ready to take the next step with logan, but you're still a bit nervous. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: explicit smut (18+, mdni), inexperienced reader, missionary, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, logan can't control himself, implied age gap (but no mention of age), no use of y/n. word count: 3k a/n: ok, this is yet another one-shot of complete old man logan filth. it never really is just the tip, is it? 🤭 i'm just so obsessed with logan and can't figure out which version of him i want to write on most days lol. honestly, idk where this idea originated from, but here we are... i just have a fantasy of old man logan showing me the ropes ya know... anyway, hope you enjoy! 🙂‍↕️

Logan doesn’t know what he did in this life to ever deserve you. Someone so sweet, so patient, so kind, so pure. He doesn’t even know why someone like you would ever be interested in someone like him. He knows he’s no longer in his prime – his hair now a gray shade, beard overgrown with more gray than brown, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, wrinkles around his face.

And you… You’re obviously much younger than him – everyone is much younger than him – but your innocence and your purity makes you seem so much younger than you really are, despite being very mature for your age. You smile so sweetly at him, gaze at him with such kind eyes that he doesn’t ever feel deserving of you.

But you had approached him first. All shy and unlike the rest of the girls in your group the night that you both met. You seemed so out of place, like maybe you had just been dragged along for the night because you were quiet, reserved, even when you had three drinks and one shot of tequila already.

The rest of your group was loud, outfits way too revealing that everyone had eyes on them. They craved and yearned for the attention, but you were fine with being in the background. This wasn’t usually how you spent most Friday nights, but your friends had convinced you and you owed one of them a favor.

You weren’t the prettiest in the group and you certainly never got the attention of anyone else when you were with them, but you didn’t mind. Your friends never made you feel less than you were, always the ones to reassure you and give you the confidence that you lacked.

And that night was no different. They had given you the confidence to approach Logan who was keen on spending just a couple of hours drinking his problems and nightmares away. Alone.

But when you sat next to him and flashed him that sweet smile paired with those kind eyes, Logan knew he wouldn’t have the strength to turn away from you. He tried to act like he wasn’t interested, tried to act like talking to you was an inconvenience, but it never deterred you. Instead, you remained seated next to him all throughout the night even well past the time the bar was closing.

“Your friends left you,” Logan told you.

“That usually is the plan,” you admitted.

His head tilted. “The plan is to go home with a stranger? Sounds dangerous if you ask me, bub.”

“I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?”

“Go home with a stranger.”

“Ain’t going home with me,” Logan whispered. “I don’t do this either. Too old for this, actually.”

Logan didn’t miss the way your face fell at his words. All night, he kept asking himself why did you pick him? What was so special about him that you decided to spend the rest of your night talking to him?

“If I did invite you back to my apartment, would you say yes?” You asked quietly, your kind eyes now filled with hope.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

You didn’t push him, wanted to respect his decision and his boundaries. So instead, you grabbed a napkin off the bar counter and a sharpie before writing your name and phone number. “Call me?”

“Sure,” Logan lied, staring down at the napkin.

Once outside the bar, you pulled out your phone. “Well, I better call a Lyft now. It was really great talking with you, Logan.”

“Let me take you home at least,” he muttered.

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I’m a driver,” he chuckled lowly. “If you called a Lyft, there’s a high chance that it’d be me who takes you home anyway.”

“Okay,” you smiled up at him and Logan felt his heart race even faster at the sight.

And since then, you and Logan had developed a friendship that soon turned physical. Heavy make out sessions and lingering touches, but you hadn’t taken that extra step, hadn’t gone the full distance.

–

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, hands resting on his shoulders as you sit on his lap.

“For?” Logan asks, head tilting as his strong hands rest on your upper thighs.

“To have sex with you.”

Logan clears his throat, can feel his manhood stir beneath his pants. He stares into your eyes, tries to search for any uncertainty but you look determined. You look like you’ve made up your mind.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs. “You know I’m fine with what we’ve been doing. I don’t want to push you or make you feel like you need to do this for me. We’ll go at your pace.”

“I trust you,” you admit quietly. “I’m not… experienced like other women my age should be, but–”

“Inexperienced or not, I don’t care about that.” Logan lifts you off his lap and sets you on the couch instead, his hands immediately moving to cover the center of his pants. “We don’t have to–”

“I want this, Logan. I want you. All of you.” You bite your lower lip and move to settle on your knees on the couch, staring up at him. “I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t been with many men before.”

Logan’s eyes narrow at you. “Oh, that so?” He isn’t sure why he feels jealous at your words, imagining other men who've had you in their bed. He’s had a taste of you, knows exactly what to do to get you to come and you’ve done the same to him. And yet, he hasn’t had you in a way these other men have.

You nod at him, so innocent and pure written on your features. He can sense your nervousness, but he can also smell your arousal. It hits his senses all at once and his gaze darkens. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan smirks. “I’ve seen the way you suck my cock,” he growls. “You ain’t gonna disappoint me.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, feel the wetness begin to settle between your legs, dampening your panties at his words. You loved when he would talk dirty to you; it only excited you even more. “Y– You like that, huh?”

Logan nods and stands up from the couch, lifting you into his arms without issue. “Of course,” he whispers, taking you to his bedroom as he walks into the room with you in his arms. “I love the fact that you like doing it too.”

You nod in agreement. “I do love it.”

Logan grins and sets you on his bed, watching as you prop yourself on your hands with your lower lip pulled between your teeth. And he wants so badly to respond and tell you that he loves you, but he doesn’t. Everyone that he’s ever loved was taken from him, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I know, you’re like a crazed animal.” Logan chuckles.

You pout up in his direction and gently reach out to tug on the waistband of his pants, pulling him to stand between your legs as your free hand moves to massage his crotch.

“See what I mean?” He groans, hardening even further with every graze of your hand. Logan gently takes your hand from him and shakes his head, lifting you further up the bed as he climbs atop of you. “You sure about this?”

You nod and move your hands to rest on his chest, feeling the muscle flex beneath your fingertips. “Yes,” you say almost breathlessly. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

Logan’s gaze softens and he looks down at you. You had broken through his hard exterior, had nestled your way into his heart, and even Charles had taken notice. You make him feel young again, like not all of the world’s responsibilities are weighing heavy on his shoulders. With you, he feels free, at peace. You manage to quiet all of the voices in his head, but he’d never tell you that.

“We’ll go at your pace,” he whispers, moving his hand down your side.

“I’m just nervous I won’t be able to take all of you,” you admit.

Logan chuckles and leans back on his knees to gently tug down your shorts and panties. He tosses it carelessly to the side and instantly, he smells your arousal hit his senses. He looks down at your lower half, sex glistening with your wetness. “It’ll fit,” he says lowly, hands moving up your legs. “We’ll make sure it does.”

“Maybe just start with the tip?” you ask, grabbing the ends of your oversized t-shirt above your head. You lie back down, hair splaying on his pillows as your body is now fully exposed and on full display for him.

Logan nods, pulling off his white tank-top over his head. He stands up momentarily to push down his pants, his manhood now standing at attention and leaking at the tip. He reaches down and strokes himself once, twice, before he settles himself between your legs.

“Gonna get you ready for me first,” Logan whispers, his large hand splaying over your abdomen as it slides down towards where you need him the most. He hovers above you, lips resting just near your ear as he slowly slides his middle finger past your folds. It slides in with ease, your slickness allowing for easy entry. Logan gently nips on your earlobe, grunting in your ear as you let out a quiet whimper at the intrusion.

“Logan,” you moan quietly, moving a hand to rest on his large bicep, gripping it tightly. This isn’t the first time Logan’s fingered you, but the anticipation of what’s to come has you clenching around his digit unintentionally.

“Already so wet f’me,” he whispers into your ear, slowly adding another digit into your depths. Logan ruts against the mattress, trying to find his own relief as he slowly begins to pump his fingers in and out of you.

You turn your head and bury your face against the crook of his neck, teeth grazing against his skin. “Logan,” you whimper, gasping quietly as you feel another digit enter you.

“That’s three already, sweetheart,” Logan growls as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. When he feels your teeth gently bite down on his neck, he groans, thrusting his three digits inside of you as he begins to curl his fingers within your depths. “Come f’me, honey.”

“Logan, I–” you shut your eyes tightly and arch your back, your breasts pushing against his chest. Your walls tighten even further around his digits, your hips rolling upwards as you ride out your high.

Logan smirks and pulls back slowly, looking down at you as your chest heaves up and down. He pulls his fingers from you and looks down at it, his digits glistening with your arousal. He brings it to his lips and sucks your arousal from his fingers, eyes staring into your own once your eyes open. “Ready?”

You nod, biting your lower lip in anticipation. “Just the tip, okay?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Logan says, leaning back on his knees as he reaches down to grasp onto the base of his manhood. He leans in closer, running his tip along the length of your sex, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

You look down between your legs and bite your lower lip. The sight of him holding onto the base of his length as he rubs his tip up and down the length of your sex, until his tip catches against your opening. “Logan…” you whimper, reaching out for him but he just uses his free hand to grab a hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head.

Slowly, Logan pushes his tip into you, feeling your tight walls immediately surround him. He groans and then pulls back, running his tip once more along you. Logan’s grip around your wrists tighten, pressing them further into the mattress as he pushes his tip – and only his tip – inside of your depths. Logan looks down and slowly pushes further into you, hearing you quietly gasp as a few more inches past his tip enter you.

“Logan, wait, baby–”

Logan growls and then suddenly slams all the way into you in one stroke. The warmth of your walls surround him, so tight and so wet as his lower half presses firmly against yours. “Fuck,” he groans, his now free hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

You feel your toes curl at the intrusion – nothing Logan did would have ever prepared you for the size of him. You can feel every inch and vein of his length inside of you, throbbing and stretching you. It’s so much, all at once, that when he pulls back only to thrust back in all the way, it causes your eyes to flutter.

“I said–” you moan. “Start with the tip…”

“Couldn’t help myself,” he groans, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “You feel so good around me, sweetheart.” Logan feels your legs wrap around his waist, your ankles locking together at his lower back.

You nod in agreement, tears stinging your eyes. Logan’s so deep and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You keep your eyes open and trained on him. He hadn’t removed his glasses, now staring at you from the top of his glasses. You try to wiggle your hands free, but Logan’s grip just tightens even further.

“Logan, oh god,” you moan, his slow thrusts now picking up speed. He pulls out to his tip and then slams back into you, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. His hand moves from your cheek to grip your hip, fingertips digging into the meat of your flesh.

He knows that he probably won’t last any longer, the feeling of your tight walls gripping him, the way he’s easily sliding in and out of your depths due to how wet you are for him. It’s in moments like this where he doesn’t know why you still stick around, why you still continue to choose him. Logan releases your hands and grips your hips in both hands, pulling back to look down at you. Logan continues to thrust into you, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echo off the walls of his room.

Your hands immediately move to grip his sheets and he can feel your walls begin to tremble once more, can feel you begin to tighten around his length. Logan groans, eyes moving along your frame, his gaze lingering at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each sharp thrust he delivers. He knows his grip around your hips will leave marks and the thought of you walking around, going about your day with marks of him suddenly makes him feel territorial, suddenly has this desire to make everyone know that you’re his.

“Logan, I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, baby,” he groans. “I know, come f’me.”

And just on cue, your legs tighten even further around his waist as your walls tighten around his length. He can feel you shaking, can feel just a rush of wetness. “Logan!”

He groans. He’d never get tired of hearing his name escape your lips at the height of pleasure. Logan’s hips stutter, feeling a tightness build in the pit of his stomach as he chases his own release. He releases your hips to rest his hands on the mattress near your head, slamming his hips into yours – once, twice, three times before he releases inside of you, his seed filling you. He should have asked first, should have thought about using a condom, but when he pulls out of you and watches his seed trickle out of you, the guilt disappears immediately.

You stare up at him and then follow his gaze down between your legs, watching his spend come out of you and drop down onto his mattress, staining his sheets. “You’ll have to wash these now,” you tease, your voice almost breathless.

“Worth it,” he whispers, leaning down and gently pecking your lips.

“Was that– Was I okay?” you ask quietly, your hands slowly moving to his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Logan says softly. “We’re gonna be doing more of that.”

An excitement flickers in your eyes and you grin, leaning up on your elbows to gently capture his lips with your own. “And just so we’re clear… I don’t mind that you came inside.”

Logan pulls back and looks down at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I like knowing that I can still feel you.”

Logan smirks and he can feel himself slowly begin to get hard again. His regenerative powers aren’t all that quick anymore, so he’s surprised that his manhood is stirring awake, yearning for you yet again.

“Next time we do this,” you begin quietly. “Can I ride you?”

Logan groans as he moves his hips, his tip slowly brushing against you. He slowly lies on his back and reaches down to stroke himself, eyes running across your frame. “Come on, then.”

“Wait,” you bite your lower lip. “You’re– How?”

“You make it easy,” he winks, reaching out to gently tap your hip. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

You move to straddle his hips and Logan looks down to see his release trickle out of you, dripping onto the hair at his base. He stares up at you, feeling you slide down his length and he watches you tilt your head back, a moan escaping your lips. Logan bites his lower lip, hands moving to your hips as he gazes up at you. Logan knows that you’re way out of his league, that you deserve to be with someone closer to your age, but fuck – he’s going to keep you for as long as you allow.

Because Logan knows that he’s so deep in his feelings for you that he won’t ever choose to let you go.

And now, as you’re slowly rocking your hips, he’s going to keep this image in his mind until the day he dies.

His girl. His.

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman character #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fanfic #logan howlett smut #wolverine #old man logan #old man!logan #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x female reader #old man logan x reader #old man logan smut

669 notes · View notes

helluvabossrewrite45 · 6 days ago

Text

Helluva Boss and the Disappointing Asexual Representation - an Ace Former HB watcher

I am aromantic and asexual. I used to watch helluva boss during the 2020s when it first started. The internet was the only place where I got introduced to lgbt content and people for the first time, including queer media and helluva boss is one of them. I used to question my sexuality of being aroace, lesbian or bisexual until I finally accepted my identity as an aroace (full circle lol) While my aromanticism was easy to accept, Asexuality was a different story due to how the topic, you know, was around sex and it took more time for me to accept that I was also an asexual. Am I open about it? No. Unless you are one of my close friends, you wouldn't have a clue about my actual identity unless you know the labels for it. This is because with how predominant sex-normativity is, asexuality is often invisible to the wider length of society still, even when were more seen than before. And as someone with a queer identity most people wouldn't understand, I had seen the disguised bigotry people do to other queer identities that aren't as easily understood such as trans people, as they would be misgendered if their bad people. These people who misgender claim its for 'respect' but it's really a blatant excuse to openly be bigoted without backlash for it. It's not only the kind of bigotry that is prevalent within social media but also an extremely sneaky bigot method to avoid accountability.

Let's look at how this related to Mammon, an asexual character in HB:

On a surface level, this would just appear to be Bee insulting Mammon for being an asshole with the same connotations that is a well-known motif of the show; sexual references as the punchline. But Mammon being an asexual changes this viewpoint entirely. For one, Bee is ignoring his asexuality with using nobody wanting to fuck him as an insult even though his identity would immediately weakened it. Her sexual insults to him such as "sucking a dick" and "fucking himself" contribute to negating his asexuality even further. the "fucking yourself" aspect is particularly interesting because it frames him as self-centered. Now yes, Mammon is a self-centered character but his asexuality isn't relevant to this at all. By Bee relating his asexuality to his self-centeredness, unintentional or not, thereby reinforces the entitled notion of asexual people being selfish for lacking sexual attraction as if it wasn't out of their control and as if they owe allosexuals their body to be as "normal" as them. It wouldn't be a problem if mammon had openly show his asexuality proudly to rebut Bee's acephobic insults however, he doesn't. From not allowing the opportunity for Mammon to be open with his asexuality, it highlights helluva boss reinforcing invisibility of asexual people. In addition to this, this scene illustrates the disguised bigotry predominant on social media by Bee's acephobia being framed as justified by Mammon being a bad person, as if it related to his asexuality. Therefore, Helluva Boss failed at representing asexuals through contributing to our invisibility as well as encourage disguised bigotry.

Now, Mammon isn't the only asexual character.

Octavia, the only underage character with some significance, the character Rogers referred to as a 'cockblock' for Stolitz, is also asexual.

*Sigh

Her being underage isn't what bothered me. I'm also similar of age to her and young asexuals should be seen in media. Adult Allosexuals would often portray our asexuality as a phase and immature thing for the "real" mature experience later on. I only mentioned her being underage because of how this erasure of our identity by adults also applies to the later that actually bothered me: Rogers referring to her, an asexual minor, "cockblocking" an allosexual achillean relationship. Him referring to her as that is not only gross to say for a teenager that just wanted her father to pay more attention to his family than his affair but also how it can further isolates asexuals from the queer community. It reminded me of the terf comic where an ace was depicted as prudish, immature and whiny during pride month. Referring to her as a "cockblock" over an allosexual queer ship further reinforces these notions; that were too prudish, too immature, too whiny to be apart of the lgbt community, that we "get in the way" of ACTUAL queer people. And I'm worried that not only would her asexuality not even be shown in the show but also how her depiction in the series can reinforce acephobia because while she's not seen as bad as mammon, I know she would get hate in the upcoming episode and it worries me that there's gonna be acephobia involved, especially from how again, Roger depicts her as an obstable for Stolitz.

This show clearly wanted to do something similar to bojack. Vivziepop clearly likes bojack. And I find it very ironic because bojack is one of the few shows, especially at its time, that's one of the best ace representation. All through one character: Todd.

Unlike HB, Todd's asexuality is actually explored in the show. His acceptance of his asexuality, his explorations of his relationships with other aces (such as Yolanda and Maude) and even having him participate in an asexual space assists in making us aces visible, that we exist and are valid for who we are. There's no disguised bigotry, no joke that digs at his asexuality and definitely no implication that he's an obstacle for allosexual relationships. It's an ace character whose identity is recognized and respected in it's media, and that is what Helluva Boss fails at. Rather than letting asexual characters be as open of their sexuality as the other allosexual queer characters, it instead both ignores and even encourages bigotry towards us. That is what made HB's asexual representation to be disappointing from me, a closeted yet proud asexual.

Any of you who is asexual should be proud of your asexuality too. Your not prudish, immature, whiny or self-centered for lacking sexual attraction and you belong in the lgbt community. You don't owe anyone anything to prove your apart of the community because your existence already defies societal norms about sexuality. You are as queer as the rest in the community. You deserve representation that recognizes and validates you for who you are. You matter.

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical #helluva critical #helluva criticism #helluva critique #asexual #ace

183 notes · View notes

preeningpisces · 9 months ago

Text

♡ Too Sensitive - Part Two ♡

Telling the JJK men you get too sensitive right before you cum and always have to stop, effectively ruining your orgasms.

A/N: basically Choso is sweet—the other two are not lol

Includes: Choso, Kenjaku, and Sukuna Part One sorry for lumping you in with the baddies, Choso

Content: masturbation, fingering, cunnilingus, p-in-v, bondage, monsterfucking, dacryphilia, degradation, praise

Petnames: whore, my lord

TW: dubcon, sadism

18+ Content below, mdni, implied chubby f!reader - enjoy!

Choso is earnest & helps you through it. He wants you to cum, it’s one of the best parts of sex. Denying yourself every time, even if it isn’t intentional, has to be frustrating. He'll do whatever you need to get there.

♡ ♡ ♡

With how new relationships are for Choso, you haven’t added sex to the equation yet. Everything about intimacy is a learning curve, and even though the two of you agreed to take things slow, Choso has shown a clear yearning and interest in sex. So when he walks in on a failed masturbation attempt, all thoughts of easing into sex flew out the window. How was he supposed to forget the sight of your legs spread, head thrown back, and fingers working to make yourself come?

He crawled up the bed, and with pleading eyes, asked what was wrong. You insisted everything was fine, but Choso isn’t stupid: he knew you were masturbating, and it didn’t go how it was supposed to for whatever reason. Eagerness alone isn’t enough to make up for a lack of knowledge, however, and Choso feels almost as frustrated as you when he accepts he doesn’t know how to help.

It’s then you learn of Choso’s persuasion skills, because you now rub your clit for your boyfriend to watch. His gaze is heavy and irreverent—transfixed by your wet pussy.

“It’s so pretty,” he says when your hole twitches, and the compliment makes warmth flood through you. “Can I touch you?”

“A-ah, yeah, go ahead.” The scenario wounds your pride: you don’t want to struggle in front of Choso. How is he supposed to trust you as a guide when you can’t even give yourself a basic orgasm? A tentative touch to your labia interrupts these thoughts, appreciating its shapes and feeling your wetness.

You whimper when his curiosity leads him to tracing your hole—not penetrating, only running the tip of his finger through the rim. He looks at you in question before he slowly breeches you, amazed by the sight and sensation of you parting for him.

It isn’t until you shift your hips that he grazes your g-spot, and your pussy squeezes his fingers so hard he briefly wonders if he hurt you. Uncertainty fades away as he caresses the rough area, his excitement growing as you move against his hand with a moan. It’s wet and warm, and the thought of it surrounding his cock makes him bite back a sound.

“Choso, you’re doing so good,” you pant, your voice tight with effort. “You can put another in.”

He does as told, mouth hanging when he sees your pussy stretch to accommodate his fingers. Over-eager, he relentlessly strokes your g-spot, his hips grinding against the bed. You cry out and match his intensity by circling your clit quickly. It doesn’t take long for your legs to tremble, and your body to stiffen. Whether by accident or knowing more than you thought he would, his fingers scissor, and you’re brought to the door of stinging pleasure.

“I can’t—I’m sorry,” your hand flies off instinctively, but he catches your wrist.

“Keep going,” he says lowly, and covers your fingers, moving them to glide over your clit beneath his own. “Let me help you.”

It’s an odd sensation: your familiar fingers moving in unfamiliar ways. He intensifies your touch, and resumes stroking your g-spot, shooting red-hot nerves through your body.

“Oh, my god, Choso! That’s too fucking—” you wail when you come, muscles cramping from the tension. Choso’s touches never falter as he leans over to connect your lips. It’s a sloppy, noisy kiss, and he moans almost as much as you. When you thrash to get away from him and tears well in your eyes, he removes his fingers and pulls you close. You pant in unison, and when you glance down, you see Choso had come in his pants. Only minutes pass before you feel his erection poking your ass.

“Can I do it again?”

Kenjaku is curious & tests you through it: what makes you so sensitive? Is it a certain technique? Would different stimuli make it more or less intense? He wants to explore until he knows the ins and outs of the issue to sate his curiosity.

♡ ♡ ♡

If you were told that you would spend your Saturday evening tied down with your leader’s head between your legs, you would assume they mistook you for someone with a much more colorful sex life. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have come as a shock with his unpredictable nature, but you assumed he had no interest in sex–or anything that isn’t about cursed energy, really.

Your legs strain against the straps as you come with a voiceless scream, mouth hanging open. Kenjaku only licks at your cunt twice more before removing himself, his face expressionless as he watches you twitch and convulse. With his thumb he absentmindedly wipes residue from his jaw, only to lick it from his finger and lips–the display makes your cheeks heat, even though he just ate your pussy. When he remains silent, you know he’s mulling over something, and prepare yourself for the incoming rant as your high dissipates. Instead, he slides two fingers into you. He wastes no time locating your soft spot, caressing the area with deliberate strokes. His cool demeanor makes you feel foolish for making any noise, whether they come from your mouth or your pussy.

When he ate you out, he focused on your clit, his tongue flitting over your opening once or twice, but never penetrating. Now, it seems, he’s doing the exact opposite. Thick fingers part so widely it almost hurts, but so turned on it only makes you mewl, and raise your hips for more. This seems to herald your end, as he sets a rhythmic pace, pushing you further and further along. Like before, the pleasure skyrockets to a harsh burn, and you squirm in your restraints.

“Where does it hurt?” You stare at him stupidly, unsure what he said. It’s the first he’s spoken since strapping you down. “You said it gets over-sensitive before an orgasm. Where is that happening now?”

“My clit,” you manage. His fingering doesn’t slow even as you’re trying to speak.

“Is it internal or external?” A choke interrupts you before you can ask him to clarify, as another orgasm knocks the wind out of you. His fingers are still, but continue to pulse against your g-spot as your pussy clenches. Sensing your confusion, he continues.

“Does it happen in the head of your clitorus,” his thumb swipes over it cheekily, making you yelp. “Or is it internal?” He presses against your g-spot with an exaggerated force. Kenjaku’s voice is slow and condescending as he explains, as if you’re a child. You’re still trembling through your orgasm, too overwhelmed to think, let alone answer. Miffed by your silence, he pulls your nipple with his free hand.

“External! Fuck!”

“Interesting,” he says to himself, and continues to toy with your nipple until your eyes water. Two fingers straddle your clit, not touching, and rub the entire area in slow circles. A loud gasp tears from deep in your lungs, your body unsure what to do with this development.

“No, you can’t be serious,” your voice warbles when a pinch to your clit chastises you. “Fuck, fuck–no!” You jerk against the restraints, and your hips try to run away from his touch. “Stop!”

“Tell me, was it worse the second time, or the same?” A muted whimper is your only reply. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’re fine. I have more methods to try, after all.”

Sukuna is sadistic & forces you through it: normally he doesn’t care if you cum, but the thought that it’s too much and overwhelms you very much appeals to him.

♡ ♡ ♡

How your Lord became privy to such information you’ll never know for certain, but you have an inkling of how it happened. You were a simple servant, tasked with trivial duties like laundry and sweeping in the courtesan’s quarters. You had sequestered a bottle of liquor to be shared with those you consider friends, and the four of you drunkenly giggled as you shared your racy experiences.

Apparently, one of your ‘friends’ is a fucking narc, or just an idiot with loose lips and no sense. Because a handful of days later, you’re being summoned by Sukuna himself, and find yourself propped on his lap.

The tongue is waterlike, curling and rolling between your thighs, leaving thick saliva in its wake. It doesn’t take long for your pussy to leak and for pathetic sounds to spill. Does he prefer silence? You fist your robes, unsure if you’re allowed to even touch Sukuna; you have no clue how you’re supposed to behave.

“I’m going to kill the fool that sent you to the servant’s quarters,” he says. One of your breasts stills from your robe, and he is quick to palm it with his massive hand, and more terrifyingly, pull your nipple. His other hand squeezes your pliant thigh, and another molds against your hip, thumb digging into your lower belly–clearly appreciating how soft you are.

Barely, you resist rolling your hips in tandem with his licking. Despite it all, the large slippery tongue feels unlike anything you’ve felt before. The roll of his tongue is passionate enough that it swipes at your ass as well, making you gasp and clench every time. The pleasant sensations bleed into discomfort as you get close–what you’ve feared ever since you came into his throne room–and you stiffen as you try to bear through it.

His tongue never stops its languid stroking, and despite your best effort, you thrash and twist in his hold, trying to escape the burn. A plea for him to stop bubbles at your lips. You have no choice but to take it, and after a few moments of unbearable rubbing on your clit, you sob as an orgasm is ripped from you. The tongue never stops. It laps wildly, trying to drink everything your body offers. Tears spill from your eyes, as the prickling in your clit spreads.

“That was fast,” he muses, lazily eyeing your quivering body. “I’ve never seen a whore cry because she got her cunt licked.” His tongue flicks your clit sharply, and he chuckles when you nearly topple over. “Sensitive?”

“Yes, my lord.” You tremble all over; the weight of his attention is enough to terrify.

“Good.” Suddenly, he lifts and positions you over his cock—the one furthest from his pelvis. Your heart drops to your ass. It’s humongous, surely, it will kill you! You don’t have time to fear, because he presses you down immediately. It pushes against your entrance for several moments, unable to slide in despite how lubricated you are with his saliva and your juices, but eventually, your hole succumbs to the pressure from Sukuna’s hold and it breeches you violently. The size of his cock knocks the wind out of you, and its twin grazes the your pussy. Your clit feels like it’s on fire.

“Cry for me, whore,” he lifts you up and drops you back down, the slap and your yelp echo through the throne room. “It’s all you’re good for.”

731 notes · View notes

dewdr0pz-alt · 3 months ago

Text

romantic hcs with s/o lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

summary: the title lol

warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: ik this wasn't requested, but I'm upset w/ myself due to the lack of Lucifer content on my blog!

tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on or off of the taglist!) @o-kye @zuuriell @strangleetomz @xxtalulahlovesyouxx@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @average-vibe @back-totheoldhouse

dates w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

dates with this man are THE BESTTTT

you think of somewhere, he'll take you. the aquarium? done. clothes shopping? of course. fanciest restaurant in town? you don't need to ask, he's already booked a reservation for 6:30.

he's OBSESSED with spoiling you in general, and this gets bumped up x10 on dates

you ask for wine or champagne at dinner? he's ordering the finest, most expensive bottle for his love. don't like what they have? he's bringing his own just for you.

^^ "No, no, sweetheart, I insist. My darling deserves to indulge in the finest!"

he doesn't mind you asking for more simple dates without all of the spoiling, though. he'd plead for a bit to spoil you juuuust a little though!

he's bought LOADS of fancy clothes for you to wear on dates, and sometimes he'll match with you! he wants everyone to know that the king of Hell's partner is living in luxury.

domestic life w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

he's big on cuddles. cuddles when you wake up, cuddles when you eat or cook, cuddles while watching something, cuddles while getting ready for bed, cuddles while sleeping, etc.

my personal headcanon is that Lucifer knows how to bake super well (he can make the best sweet treats and pastries), but he's terrible at cooking actual meals (COOKING AND BAKING ARE TWO SEPARATE THINGS AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL), so you usually end up doing most of the cooking for the two of you. still, he'll help as much as he can!

going back to the baking thing, he loves baking dates with you! wrapping his arms around your waist while you try to figure out his recipe for mini apple pies with ducks on them (he'll step in to help you), teasingly throwing flour at you (which turns into a flour fight), letting you lick the batter off of the spoon, etc.

he really likes learning about and watching the films and shows you like from your era. since he's been in Hell all of his life, he doesn't know everything about the human realm, so you talking about your favorite things from the era you were alive in is a joy for him!

you living with him motivates him to do his chores around the house. talking about your days while doing the laundry, humming along to music while washing dishes, laughing with each other while cleaning. he lives for it.

how you two started dating ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

you heard about Charlie Morningstar's plan through a friend who was talking about how odd it sounded, and you thought you'd pay a visit. you didn't think it was odd at all! if your help wasn't needed/wanted, it might be nice to stay.

turns out, Charlie loved having you help out, and so did everyone else! you pointed out how there wasn't a receptionist or front desk person and offered to take up the job, which Charlie happily let you do.

when Lucifer came to visit for the first time, it truly was love at first sight. something just...clicked.

he kept asking Charlie about who you were, what your name was, etc., until Charlie told him to just go talk to you!

the first 'hello's were a bit awkward, but you two quickly became friends! it went from him not being brave enough to even look you in the eye to him following you around the hotel, laughing while listening to the stories you told him about the hotel.

he started visiting a lot after that, which led to him asking you to be his one and only on Valentine's Day!

he was a little insecure and nervous about dating because of Lilith, and it bothered you for a while that he still wasn't able to take his ring off, but after some arguments and long talking sessions, you two worked everything out :)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you #hazbinhotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader

161 notes · View notes

heesdreamer · 2 years ago

Text

YOU MAKE ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ struck with insomnia your entire life, you’ve taken to exploring the city restless all night. things change when you meet a tall boy with tired eyes and bruised knuckles

WARNINGS ➩ heeseung is lowkey crazy and obsessed with reader, parental death and abuse and implied violence, sexual scenes and commentary, mental health talk (especially insomnia)

WC ➩ 17k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ (i lied lol part 2 soon) NOOO PART 2 plz don’t request im so serious i rlly love this story and it’s completed it has nothing else to add! im glad you guys enjoy my work enough to want more but when there is no feedback in ur comment and just “need part 2” when i spent so much time writing 13k+ words it makes me feel terrible lol. i rlly hope you love this as much as me (NOT PROOFREAD)

Your mother used to tell you that she thought you were born from a piece of the moon.

When you were old enough to understand her and her strange sayings, she’d tell you stories about how when you were a baby you’d never sleep through a night. She looked mystified as she explained to you the ways in which you’d gain energy every time the sun set, becoming whiny and ornery whenever she’d take you with her to run errands during the day.

She told you how you struggled in school for most of your early years, always being found curled up in your backpack cubby or under the slides at the playground because you hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before.

You always were much more cynical than your mother, less of a dreamer and typically prone to aggravation or grumpy tired mumbles. She’d tell you your connection with the moon was a blessing, a lifelong friend for you and you’d retort back that it was a nuisance.

When your mom died you finally realized what she had meant for the first time. You spent nights awake, like usual, but now they were accompanied by nothing but the sounds of your low sobs and your father drinking himself stupid just below your bedroom. It wasn’t until you cracked open your bedroom window for some fresh winter air did you catch sight of the moon and finally feel it, finally feel the connection you’d always been told you had.

Years had passed now and while you didn’t cry every night anymore, you still rarely found yourself able to sleep through the night.

You’d also turned your back on the moon again now that you were older and still just as restless, sleeping throughout your classes and lacking any social life considering the way you wandered through the halls like a ghost with sunken eyes and dark circles.

It was frustrating to you that nothing seemed to be working, no amount of teas or yoga exercises. You’d gone as far as to take prescribed sleep medication, only working enough to make you more exhausted than you already were yet not putting you to rest like you were longing for.

Years of trying and you’ve mostly given up, accepted your condition and never once considered it the blessing your mother had tried to convince you it was.

Blessings wouldn’t leave your bones aching, they wouldn’t leave you slow blinking trying to understand what your teachers were saying or stumbling holding your lunch tray. Blessings surely wouldn’t have you stood in the middle of a dirty 7/11, clutching three bags of chips and a large slushee while you impatiently waited for the two people in front of you to move along.

You’d realized a few things by being a night owl, only ever interacting with people having the same issue as you or people who worked early enough that you’d pass by them on your way back to your house.

You’d taken to spending your nights awake out in the city, sick of staring at your ceiling or scrolling down the same boring timelines that carried nothing but the same content posted thousands of times with different wordings. So you started to explore at some point during high school, each night pushing yourself to wander further and find something interesting before heading back.

Sometimes you ended up at the river, sitting and watching drunk older men laugh with their friends like they were teenagers, catching the ends of failed dates as they walked home with their heels in their hands.

Other times you sat and drank coffee in the few 24 hour shops scattered around the city, sipping it slowly until it was cold and the added sugar was hardening at the bottom of your paper cup.

Most times however you simply found yourself stood in this exact position, holding your snacks of choice and tapping your foot impatiently while you waited for the drunk college students in front of you to stop joking around with the exhausted cashier and pay for their beers. It wasn’t that late yet, not quite the time of night that got you weird stares for wandering around in your pajamas.

You could hear the cashiers tired voice repeating their total to them, asking if they wanted to pay with cash or card and you sighed softly. You tilted to the side with an exaggerated sway so you could see over their laughing bodies, vaguely meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter before flopping back to your original position.

A heavy sigh was slipping out of your mouth before you even realized it and one of the drunk men turned back to look at you, an eyebrow cocked in offense as he let out a nasty laugh after taking you in.

You were pretty used to that reaction, standing in your plaid pajamas with your favorite bunny slippers and knitted hat. Your eyes were low and heavy with sleep deprivation, an annoyed glint to your expression that seemed to aggravate him further once the glare was set towards him.

“Are we bugging you Ms?” He was asking it in a mockingly sweet tone, clearly antagonizing you due to your impatience. You sighed again and your eyes drifted to the side for a moment in indifference, too exhausted to hold a conversation let alone argue with a grown man who didn’t know how to behave in a public setting.

“Yeah.. a little bit.” You were casually mumbling after a few beats of him and his friend staring at you, realizing now they weren’t going to just let you go without a response.

He was scoffing like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard and you felt a little jolt of your inner alert system when he was taking a step towards you, his much larger frame slightly intimidating on top of the fact he was drunk and not thinking clearly.

He stopped early in his advances however and you were confused for a second before you registered the sound of the cashier clearing his throat, the two men turning back to look at him with an incredulous look. When you’d first gotten a glimpse of him he’d been bent over the counter, his elbows resting against it with a bored expression but now that he was standing up to his full height you faltered a bit at how tall he was.

The two men seemed to be thinking the same thing as you, suddenly hesitant in their childish behavior and awkwardly handing him a wadded up bill before taking their case of beer and staggering out of the convenience store.

“Thanks.” You were muttering and dumping your snacks out onto the counter, awkwardly catching one of the candy bars that bounced off a bag of chips and almost fell back onto the ground.

“No problem.” He was responding back with a small shrug and you glanced at him curiously, scanning his tired eyes down to the work uniform that didn’t fit him properly.

“You’re not Jake.” You were announcing and he faltered in his scanning, eyes widening a touch as he looked down at you. He was wearing a name tag but you came by often enough to know that it wasn’t his own, never having seen him before and growing used to the friendly smile the usual third shifter would give you every time you dragged yourself in.

“Uh.. no. I’m not, yeah you’re right.” He was awkwardly muttering back and you almost felt bad for calling him out so directly so you laughed a bit to ease the tension, just as awkward considering you weren’t used to extended social interaction this late at night. “He had a concert he couldn’t miss.. asked me to take over.”

You were nodding softly, mouth parting in understanding and awkwardly shuffling while the conversation quickly died into a weird silence. The sounds of your slippers against the tiled floor was scratchy and too loud for your taste, making you wince slightly at how embarrassing this whole interaction was.

“Are you getting paid?” You don’t know why you asked him another question, why you were carrying on a conversation when it’d been years since you’d had one randomly like this but you liked the way his big eyes flickered back up to you.

“Yeah of course.” He was breaking out into a wide grin at the mention of it, finishing scanning your snacks and looking at the register for a second like he’d forgotten what to do next. “I’m normally up all night anyways so I don’t mind much.”

This piqued your interest but you kept your face neutral, nodding softly and picking at the peeling leather of your wallet while you waited for him to give you your total. He was looking up at you again before he spoke and his eyes landed on your hat for a second, still smiling softly as he looked at the knitted bunny ears.

You cleared your throat and he stopped staring, stammering out how much it had cost you and you slid a few bills over to him while watching the way he fumbled around trying to get the register to open.

“Well… have a good night then.” You were mumbling to him while grabbing the plastic bags he was handing you over the clear divider, your fingers brushing against his warm knuckles for a second. “Not Jake.”

“Goodnight.” He was casually saying back and you wanted to correct him on his wording and tell him you didn’t sleep much either, tell him you understood filling your nights with mindless task and the dark circles under his big eyes. Instead you just bit the inside of your cheek and turned to leave. “Have fun wandering.”

——

You’d left early the next night, starting your walk around midnight instead of the usual 3am and you hurried down to the bus stop that would take you deep into the city. You pulled your headphones on tight and chewed on your lip as you waited for the stop you were planning to get off at.

When you got there, you were tugging on the stop signal line and standing up before the driver pulled the brakes. You swayed slightly when he came to a complete stop and you thanked him as you hopped off the high step, speed walking towards your destination and adjusting your bunny hat on your head before you passed through the doors.

The loud chime of the stores entrance bell rang uncomfortably loud through your ears and you winced at the volume, ducking behind one of the tall shelves and grabbing a few snacks at random before making your way over to the register.

Jake was there again now, giving you that familiar greeting smile and you couldn’t help but feel a small wave of disappointment. You weren’t sure why you thought the boy from last night would be back again considering he’d clearly told you he was just filling in for his friend but you frowned slightly and mumbled a greeting to the boy in front of you instead.

“You’re here early.” Jake was starting and you almost sighed. He was friendly and you admired how much energy he had but he often tried to engage in conversation with you whenever you came by, despite the annoyed glances you occasionally threw his way. “You almost missed me.”

You picked your head up at this, suddenly more alert and raising an eyebrow towards him in interest. As far as you knew, Jake was the only third shift worker and he must’ve barely started considering how early in the night it still was so he must’ve meant he was leaving before his usual time.

“Who’s going to watch the store then?” You were asking him and you tried to ignore how knowing the smile he was giving you was, laughing slightly at the fact you were suddenly interested in what he had to say for the first time ever.

“My best friend, Heeseung.” He was responding slowly and you faltered slightly, not knowing the boy from yesterday’s name so you didn’t want to get too excited over nothing. “He helped me out last night and said it was more interesting than he expected so he offered again.”

“He offered?” You were speaking before he even finished his last syllable and you flushed with embarrassment at the look he gave you, shuffling awkwardly on your feet and waiting for him to respond now that you confirmed it was the same person.

He didn’t say anything but he gave a soft hum of agreement and continued to swiftly bag your snacks, much more natural and efficient than his friend but you liked the way Heeseung stared at the register like it was an alien object. You were interested in him just from the small conversation you had, although feeling uncomfortable at the emotion considering it wasn’t something you usually felt.

You chalked it down to the fact he reminded you of yourself, not so much in his lazy smiles and casual demeanor but something about the way his tired eyes looked around.

Jake was opening his mouth again to speak and you looked up at him curiously but you both froze at the sound of the entrance bell ringing again, looking over to see the boy in question entering.

He froze when he saw the two of you staring at him, eyes falling to your hat and then down to your face which caused his to flicker with recognition. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, looking even taller now that he wasn’t standing behind the counter.

Heeseung was wearing a large hoodie pulled over his head and you could see the wires of his headphones going down into his shirt, tangled around his wrist that was clutching onto the strap of the backpack he was wearing. It was light looking and you weren’t sure if he had anything inside it or if he was just carrying it to give himself something to hold onto.

“Hey.” Jake was smiling at him and simultaneously handing you your plastic bag full of random snacks, hitting you with the reminder you had no real reason to stay in the store now despite the fact Heeseung had just arrived.

“Um.. thanks.” You were awkwardly muttering and taking it from him, shifting a few steps towards the door but stopping when you realized the tall boy was still standing in front of it and you had no way around him.

He was watching you still with a curious expression and you felt embarrassed suddenly, knowing Jake must have pieced together your reason for coming here so early and now he was watching you clam up and leave before you’d even gotten the chance to speak a word to the boy.

You were just standing there in silence, waiting for him to move and silently praying he would do you didn’t have to awkwardly shuffle around his large frame, when he suddenly was adjusting the backpack on his shoulders and clearing his throat while looking past you towards his friend.

“Change of plans. I’m busy tonight.” He was saying in a low determined voice and you could hear Jake sigh from behind you, your eyes widening slightly in confusion until the other boy was looking back at you with a small smile on his face. “Want to hang out with me?”

It took a few seconds for you to register he was actually asking you, staring up at him with an open mouth and stuttering for a moment before giving up on a verbal answer and nodding your head swiftly. He smiled even more at that and then he was waving goodbye to his friend, turning back around and holding the door open for you so you could quickly scurry out of it.

You weren’t too sure what to do, still feeling too nervous to speak clearly so you paused and waited to see if he would say something first. He didn’t but he lifted an eyebrow and gave you an expectant look, silently telling you that you were in charge of your destination for the night.

The pressure of a decision made you sigh softly and you gave him a weird look that made him chuckle, thinking for a moment before turning on your heel and walking away. He jogged slightly to catch up with you and you walked in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Can I ask where we are going?” He was eventually mumbling, leaning down and towards you slightly so you could hear him at his low volume. Your lip curled up at the fact he was whispering for no reason.

“You don’t trust me?” You were asking him back and your teasing attitude seemed to catch him off guard for a second, raising his hands in mock defense and cocking an eyebrow in challenge.

“I do trust you actually, weirdly.” He paused and you could feel him looking sideways at you. You ignored his gaze and kept facing forward, following the sidewalk that was cutting through the park near the river. “Considering you don’t even know my name.”

You almost replied telling him that you did know his, that you’d been repeating it in your mind since Jake had informed you of it in the store but you figured that would be too forward and instead you just hummed softly. He didn’t ask you for your name, or even offer his and for some reason you had a feeling he already knew it.

Possibly asking Jake about you, an easy answer considering your unusual attire and late night arrival, and that being the reason behind the cashiers knowing smirk when you pushed through the glass door.

“Is this what you normally do?” He was talking again after a few more minutes of silent walking and this time, it was your turn to look at him from the side of your eye. “Walk around?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and you felt one of the bunny ears from your hat fall off your shoulder at the movement. You weren’t sure why you didn’t give him a straight forward answer, knowing perfectly well your usual routine.

It felt strange to be accompanied by somebody even though he wasn’t talking much, you could tell he was thinking and wanting to ask you things and as much as you were intrigued by him it was slightly unsettling you to be around somebody for this long.

You spent most your days isolated, not having anybody to talk to at home considering any attempt of conversation with your father usually ended poorly anyways, eventually giving up altogether unless he was grunting something to you every morning when you wandered back into the house.

At school it was relatively the same, or most times worse. You don’t think the other students necessarily meant to complete ice you out but nobody seemed to know how to talk to you after your mom died, at first being overly compassionate and eager to empathize with you vocally and then eventually fading off into small pitiful smiles when they met your tired eyes in the hallway or eyeing you when you came into class late with messy hair.

Heeseung didn’t seem to be giving you any of these looks, he looked confused by your behavior at times but it was accompanied by small smirks or friendly chuckles.

You once again wondered why he was awake right now, why he seemed like he was used to this setting as much as you and not like he was forcing himself to stay up for the sake of making a new friend. You were curious what he was thinking about and what lead him to ask you to hang out in the first place.

“Have you been to the coffee shop on 44th?” He was suddenly asking and breaking you from your train of thought, his voice still in a low whisper.

“Why are you being quiet?” You ignored his question and raised an eyebrow in his direction, tugging on your sleeve and watching the way he faltered slightly.

“Guess I’m not used to talking to somebody this late.” He was shrugging now and he almost looked embarrassed at your question, making you feel slightly guilty for making him uncomfortable.

It wasn’t that late yet, people were still wandering around from bars and late night dinners and you could hear the squeal of the bus brakes still running. The city was rarely ever dark, even in the parks near the bridge but the mood changed sometime around 4am and you felt like the trees were sleeping. Everything was still awake now however and Heeseung whispering was driving you a bit crazy.

“What about Jake?” You were asking him more now, trying to make conversation so he knew you didn’t mean any harm from your comment.

“Jake’s a freak of nature.” He was relaxing again at the mention of his friend, a smile naturally slipping back onto his face at the familiar topic. “You know he works this shift and still goes to school? He even plays football at Hope.”

The mention of your schools college made you freeze for a second, faltering in your step and causing him to look back at you with concern, turning his body so he could face you now that you were lagging behind him. He raised an eyebrow at you and you gave him a confused look.

“You guys go to Hope?” You were saying it slowly so he heard you clearly and his head cocked like a confused dog.

“I don’t, Jake is older than us.” His use of the word threw you off completely and he must’ve noticed because he let out an awkward laugh at your reaction, scratching his neck in embarrassment. “We’re in the same grade.”

“We like… as in me and you?” You rushed out and he nodded his head, hands coming up in panic when you let out a low groan of guilt.

“It’s okay, don’t worry! I didn’t recognize you at first either, it’s a big class.” He was rambling to try and make you feel better about the fact you didn’t even realize he was your classmate, his comfortable behavior suddenly making more sense. You’d definitely never spoken to him but the fact he’d seen you around such a familiar place would make more sense towards why he was so willingly to walk around with you in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been there since Kindergarten.” You blurted out with wide eyes, exclaiming loudly in pure shock that you’d been so oblivious.

“Me too..” He was awkwardly offering with a wince like he knew it would just make the situation worse that’d you’d been classmates for over a decade.

You raised your sweater covered hands up to your face and groaned loudly, pulling your bunny ears in front of your eyes so you didn’t have to look at his sheepish expression anymore. You could hear him laughing softly at how dramatic you were being and you moved one ear to the side to send him a half glare.

“It’s really okay.” He was laughing out and you could see his soft smile from your one uncovered eye, watching him with a flushed face and growing embarrassment the more amused he became. “It’s not like you’re there much anyways.”

He was saying it casually, like he hadn’t even thought about it before it came out of his mouth but you both froze up at the same time at his accidental admission. You slowly moved your ears to the side and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning your upper half forward slightly and trying not to smile at the fact he was now the one flushing in embarrassment.

“So you notice me?” You were dragging out the words and your lip curled up in amusement, racking through your mind for times you’d seen the tall boy and coming up blank. In your defense, your entire school catalogue section of your brain was completely empty and that included cute boys with giant backpacks.

“I mean… well it’s just like… it’s not like I was stalking you or anything.” He was rambling on and moving his hands around a lot like he was really trying to prove his point, going back to awkwardly scratching at his neck when you gave him a disbelieving look.

“Heeseung.” You cut him off and he paused for a second in surprise, making you realize you’d just said his name without ever asking him for it.

He seemed to relax at that, knowing you also knew more about him than you were previously letting on and his shoulders lowered now that he was less tensed. He looked like he wanted to speak again but you felt embarrassed suddenly and took a few steps forward slowly, waiting for him to get the memo that you wanted to continue on your walk.

The two of you fell back into another spout of silence, awkward at first and then more comfortable as you got deeper into the city. It was more relaxed accompanied by the sounds of people laughing and cars honking their horns, kitchen staff wishing each other goodnight as they left different restaurants and swapped signs over to closed.

You were glancing over at Heeseung after a while and you studied him for a moment while he wasn’t paying attention, his big eyes looking around the city with the same expression you assumed you often had. No matter how many times you came down here, you always felt the exact same.

You always had this longing to capture the moment in some sort of way, giving up on photographs and videos quickly into your new habit considering they simply never were able to fully express how it felt. You tried writing about it, talking about the city always felt awake and how it unsettled you in a way that felt like a friendly challenge and not like your world flipping upside down.

“Where do you go?” You were asking him before you even realized it, watching his side profile as his big eyes opened wide for a second at the sudden sound of your voice and then darted right to look at you.

He seemed to think for a second and then he answered slowly. “I don’t know actually. Just here I guess, I just like to be here I think.”

The two of you watched each other for a few beats, holding the others gaze and you liked the way the neon signs behind you were reflecting off his round dark eyes. It was like a little piece of the city was frozen inside them and you almost said that to him before swallowing it, realizing how creepy it would sound out loud.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the night, wandering around a bit more before eventually settling at one of the small parks near the center of the main area of downtown. You sat in silence like that, you pulling out your notebook that had few words and many sketches and Heeseung playing with the strings of his headphones as he listened to music.

You could faintly hear it coming from them, loud enough to reach you a few feet away and you considered telling him he was able to play it out loud if he wanted to but for some reason you felt like it was private, leaving him to listen by himself.

When the night was slowly changing into that familiar blue color, the stage right in the center of night and day when everything is coated in the indigo filter, you were standing up off the ground and dusting off your pants. Heeseung was looking up at you due to your sudden movement and you stood over him, offering him a hand so you could pull him up.

It was mainly his own strength put into moving his weight forward considering he was a lot taller than you and you were quite weak due to your lack of sleep, but he seemed to appreciate the friendly gesture and gave you a small smile after he was back on his feet.

“What bus do you take?” He was asking you on your way back to the 7/11 and you felt him looking at the side of your face.

“15.” You answered slowly, your voice softer now as the exhaustion started to seep in. You were suddenly grateful it was a weekend, the social interaction leaving you more tired than normal and hopefully giving you the opportunity to sleep an hour or two. “You?”

“Same, but Jake is bringing me home with him today.” He was mumbling and nodded your head, picking at the skin around your nails and feeling more guilt at the fact you’d never seen him on the bus before either. “Did you want a ride home?”

His question was surprising you and your eyes widened, looking at him and seeing the concern pass over his face at your sudden change of demeanor. You were shaking your head quickly, ears swooshing around your head and you raised a hand to shake it, really emphasizing your denial.

You couldn’t imagine your fathers reaction to you being brought home by a car, especially one that contained two teenage boys in the front seat. It already took him long enough to stop punishing you for leaving at night, eventually giving up on denying you your freedom once you started to pace around the house all night instead.

“Alright, no problem.” He said quickly and you were glad he didn’t push the topic although you could tell he wanted to, a curious look on his features. Heeseung seemed to have a habit of clearly showcasing his emotions and you were grateful considering it made him easier to understand but frustrated when it was a look of pity or sympathy on his face.

You didn’t say anything when he continued to walk with you past the convenience store, walking side by side on the sidewalks even as they thinned out as you slightly left the city area.

He still didn’t speak again even when you both stood together and waited for the bus to arrive, him leaning against the plastic material covering the stops bench and you standing outside of it so the driver didn’t just blow right past you, not expecting somebody out this late.

It was you that finally turned towards him once you caught sight of the bus approaching, tugging on one of your ears awkwardly and shuffling your feet while you waited for it to get closer. You could hear it squealing to a stop, the doors creaking open while he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m…” His stare was throwing you off and you started to falter in your words while nervously looking behind you towards the driver who was waiting. “I’ll be here tomorrow around the same time so… if you wanted to.. or if like..”

You trailed off with a sigh but he seemed to get the general idea, a small smile on his face as he dipped his head down slightly in a conforming nod, relief washing over you at the fact he hadn’t found your indirect invitation weird or out of place. You raised your hand in a wave goodbye and he returned, watching you as you pulled your headphones over your hat and ears and boarded the bus swiftly, softly thanking the driver for waiting and finding a seat towards the back.

You could see him outside the window as you pulled off, still leaning against the booth and watching the bus as it left until it rounded the corner. You flushed at the fact he had walked you to your stop despite needing to return back to the city area to get a ride from Jake, not even hesitating when you passed by the store earlier.

It was exciting to be interested in somebody or even something at all, rarely feeling too extreme of emotions considering how dull and hazy everything became with your repeated exhausted routine. Not even your father, sprawled on the couch and surrounded by empty beer cans, could damper your mood as you entered your small house.

It took you a long time, hours staring at your ceiling with a half wandering mind but you eventually managed to get a little bit of sleep, thoughts of Heeseung and his wired headphones accompanying you.

——

The routine continued like this for awhile and you slowly got accustomed to it, now expecting to see him every time you boarded the bus and he was already there waiting for you with his large backpack saving you the seat beside him.

Sometimes you didn’t talk, walking in silence for hours or finding a nice place to sit and do your own individual activities side by side. Other nights you struck up small conversation, talking about the city and your favorite places to go and every once in a while delving into deeper categories that slowly chipped away at the uncomfortable feeling that always came along with attempting to trust somebody.

Heeseung was nice to you and you liked that about him as selfish as it sounded. He never expected you to answer his questions and he rarely pried, around the second day he had even started to pull out snacks from his backpack and hand them over to you after he opened them.

It was a bit into meeting now and he was walking you back to the bus stop, large hands tightly holding onto the straps of his backpack like they always were. He had lots of little habits like that and you carefully filed them all away in your memory. Sometimes he boarded the bus with you but others he just walked with you down there before leaning against the booth and waiting for you to round the corner.

Sometimes you wanted to ask him where he lived, he had to be further away from the city than you considering he was always on the bus before you at the start of the night but that would put him at even more of a distance from your school than you were already at.

Speaking of school, you’d yet to see him around the building and you surprised yourself by actually keeping an eye out throughout the day. You were scanning your tired eyes around the cafeteria and turning your dizzy head in classrooms to see if he was present but you’d not caught sight of him yet and you felt weird about asking where he was.

Maybe he didn’t want to be friends outside of the few hours of the night you spent together, time almost nonexistent here. You felt like the world was frozen most nights you spent with him around the city and you figured he must prefer that aspect versus actually interacting with you in the daytime where other people could see.

You were too distracted in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your brain was auto-piloting and boarding onto the bus before you even checked if he was coming along, going to turn around to see and completely missing the first large step off the ground. You fell forward and you imagined your side would’ve painfully landed directed on the jagged edges of the steps but you didn’t get a chance to find out, suspending in mid air considering Heeseung had jolted forward to grab onto you.

You could feel his hand wrapped around your side, the other placed in the middle of your shoulder blades so he could support your weight without falling forward himself. Your eyes were wide from almost hurting yourself and you flushed bright red at the concerned look on his face, helping you back to a standing position but keeping his hand on your waist even after you were fully stable.

The bus driver was clearing his throat and Heeseung glanced behind him awkwardly like he was originally not meant to get on the bus, but he turned back towards you and took a step onto the same one you were standing on.

It didn’t pass by you that this was the closest you’d ever been to him, normally keeping a few feet between you when you found a place to sit for the night and rarely ever being close enough to bump shoulders while walking side by side. Now, since he was stood on the same small step as you, you were practically pushed up against him while his hand was still gently against your side despite not having a reason to hold onto you anymore.

He was leaning forward, his chest pressing against you more and you awkwardly looked down at his feet instead of focusing on how tall he was at this distance, and you vaguely registered the fact he was paying for both of your bus tickets.

He seemed to catch on to the fact you were out of it a bit and losing focus, his hand pushing into your side slightly to let you know it was time to fully enter the bus and find your seats. You expected him to let you go once you entered the thin aisle but he didn’t and even when he was stood behind you walking towards the back, he kept his hand around your waist like he was guiding you.

It was removed once you took your seats and you found yourself still able to feel it for some reason, the feeling burned into your mind as he awkwardly cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck again.

You glanced over at him and his nervous demeanor, his hands fidgeting with his ripped pants now like he was also still reeling from the feeling of touching you so randomly. His hair was messy like normal but it was getting longer now, falling forward into his eyes so you couldn’t quite see what his expression was. You watched him as he put his headphones in but you leaned forward slightly to confirm that he wasn’t actually playing any music.

“Did you have somewhere to be?” You were asking him softly and then repeating it louder when you realized his headphones might block out some of your volume.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and took the one closest to you out of his ear, wrapping it around the outside instead and thinking for a second before he gave you an answer.

“Not necessarily.” He was mumbling back but sighing softly when you gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay well kind of but I want to get you home first.”

“I barely tripped.” You were rolling your eyes at him being overly concerned but the flush in your face gave you away and he laughed softly.

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you a little bit longer.” He was shrugging and turning his head to look at you better, smiling more at the way you squeezed your shoulders together and awkwardly glared forward at the floor.

“We could always hang out in school.” You were offering after a few beats of silence and you immediately regretted it, not sure how it even managed to escape your lips considering you’d already told yourself you weren’t going to question him.

His initial reaction didn’t give anything away to you, face remaining blank like he hadn’t put much thought into it but you noticed his hands starting to pick at the tape wrapped around his headphone wire and you felt guilty for bringing it up. You were about to back track and tell him to forget about it or change the subject but he was humming softly.

“I think that’d be nice.” He was saying it casually but there was a nervous edge to his voice and your mouth was downturned slightly. “Where do you eat lunch at?”

“Near the side doors.” You were answering smoothly although you left out the fact you more so used the free half an hour for a quick nap instead of actually eating. “You?”

“The library.” He was saying it hesitantly like he wasn’t sure if he should lie or not, knowing full well there was a no eating policy in that section of the school and you’d realize he wasn’t actually eating at lunch either. You both paused for a second in heavy silence before you were snorting a laugh.

“So you’re a loser basically?” Your comment was teasing and he visibly relaxed at your reaction, chuckling softly and nudging you with his thin shoulder.

“Sorry to disappoint Ms. Popular.” He was retorting back and you were glad to see the small smile return to his face and stay there now that you’ve both established this change in routine.

You wondered if he’d been thinking about it too, keeping an eye out for you or if he was actively avoiding you throughout the hallways like you’d previously thought. Maybe he figured the same as you, that you wouldn’t want to be suddenly seen with him or you wouldn’t acknowledge him and it would ruin the friendship you were slowly building.

When you got off the bus it was nice to see him still there, trying not to wince at how close the stop was to your house and how if it didn’t pull off immediately he’d see you walk up to the overgrown grass with windows titled off their hinges.

You tried not to think about it and after you gave him a small wave through the window you turned on your heel and kept your face forward, steely in your resolve to not spare him another nervous glance. This time you father didn’t seem to be home and you were grateful for that considering you had a feeling you were absolutely radiating with how much you were thinking about the boy.

It was hard to go to sleep, even more so than normal, with the ghost of his hand pressed again you and the knowledge that tomorrow you now knew where to find him. It was up to the two of you to decide if you used this information or ignored it and you weren’t sure which route he was hoping you’d take.

——

“I thought you’d forgotten about me for a second there.” Heeseung’s low voice was hitting your ears the second you crossed into the library and you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him.

You were worried for the first half of the day that it would be awkward, that you wouldn’t know what to say to each other and it would ruin everything you’d be enjoying so much, but you knew from the second he spoke that you’d made the right choice in coming to find him.

“I was about to give up.” You scowled at him and placed your bag down on the back of the chair, climbing up and sitting across from him at the high top round table in the back of the library. “You’re hard to track down.. plus the librarian kept glaring at me every time I passed her desk like I was trying to steal her books.”

“She’s probably just used to only seeing me.” He was explaining with a small smirk at your complaining and you frowned at him softly while taking a second to take him in.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to look different during the day time, feeling a bit stupid now that you looked at him and he looked exactly the same. Almost exactly, outside of how much more exhausted he looked now that he was running on even less sleep, his hair was messier than it was around 2am and he was nervously looking around.

Heeseung was always handsome to you, despite the fact you tried to pretend you didn’t think so the first few times you hung out, but you noticed things about him under the school lights that you had missed outside in the near dark.

For one, he had his eyebrow pierced. You’re not exactly sure how you managed to not notice that considering you were currently frozen to your seat as you saw it gleaming against the light when he turned his head to look at you in confusion.

He looked embarrassed at the fact you were staring at him so intensely and he brought a hand up to mess with his bangs, the face jewelry disappearing back behind his hair and showcasing why you failed to see it before. His hand had bandaids on a few of his fingers and you almost asked him about them until he tucked them back into his hoodie sleeves.

“You don’t eat?” He was clearing his throat and asking you in a low tone, leaning forward slightly to ensure that you could hear him.

You were shaking your head softly and then shrugging, almost becoming awkward enough to regret coming. “Foods no good here anyway.”

He watched you for a few seconds and you were curious what he was thinking, if he was making similar observations as you. You were suddenly reminded you couldn’t wear your bunny hat to school and it might be the first time he’s seen you without it, seen how dark your under eyes are and how dry and chapped your lips become this time of year.

You didn’t like that you thought about this, didn’t like that you cared about what he was thinking about your appearance.

“We could go get some food after school.” He was suggesting it with a shrug but his eyes were watching you intensely with a hint of hesitance, almost like he was expecting you to say no.

You felt like your breath caught for a few seconds, holding tightly in your chest and you hoped your eyes didn’t widen too much at his suggestion. He was still watching you but his eyes softened slightly at your surprised expression, amused that you seemed just as nervous as he was about this change of pacing.

“Are you paying?” You were eventually wheezing out after a few seconds, letting the words tumble out at the same time your big gulp of air did.

His smile was familiar, the same one he gave you when he caught you staring at him in the park for a sketch reference, the same one he would offer everytime you’d skip onto the bus and grin once you caught sight of him saving your seat. You thought it looked even better in the sunlight.

——

You tried not to think about how weird it was that you and Heeseung left school together, side by side and bumping into each other while navigating the hoard of students all trying to squeeze out of the doors to escape the building.

You wondered if anybody else thought it was weird, if anyone paid enough attention to you in recent years to wonder who the tall boy next to you was. The boy who was currently snaking a hand down to your side like he had at the bus, gently guiding you through a gap in the crowd so you could get outside faster than it would be to stand and wait.

Your face was flushing bright red but he luckily seemed to focused on getting out of the mass of people to realize, eyebrows furrowed in a stressed out expression.

He didn’t remove his hand even after you’d gotten out of the tight pile of bodies, keeping it there comfortably but you knew by the heavy silence that you both were aware it wasn’t anything normal for him to do. You almost couldn’t tell, almost convinced yourself this was his typical behavior and you’d somehow just not realized it, but when you caught his eye and he quickly looked away with a small pink to his cheeks you knew it wasn’t.

Little things were different during daytime hours but not enough to make your head completely spin, giving you that familiar overwhelmed feeling that left you taking deep breaths in the bathroom stall.

The bus was actually full of people for once, only one seat left in the middle of the aisle and Heeseung hurriedly sat you down on it before it was taken. He was standing above you holding onto the pole near the top of the ceiling and you would’ve felt bad he had to do that so you could sit if it wasn’t for the small glances and grins he was sending down your way every time he caught you staring.

When you reached further into the city, somewhere you didn’t fully recognize but he must’ve considering the was leaning forward towards you and tugging on the stop rope, you both thanked the driver and left the bus.

You tried not to be disappointed when he didn’t hold onto you again, silently cursing yourself for feeling that way anyways and pushing it down. You took your backpack off your shoulders as you walked and held it in front of you, fishing for something inside with an annoyed sigh after a few seconds passed without feeling it.

Eventually the familiar fabric was grazing your fingers and you smiled softly as you pulled out your hat and situated it over your head again, pulling a few pieces of hair out in the front and glancing over at Heeseung who had been watching you.

“Woah Y/N, when’d you get here?” He was mock gasping, a hand coming up to cover his mouth and stumble back on the sidewalk like you had surprised him.

You grumbled at his antics and elbowed him in the side, trying to pretend your heart didn’t pick up in pace when he laughed loudly at your reaction and grabbed onto your jacket so he didn’t go tumbling into the street from your small shove. He didn’t let go for a few seconds even after he was steadied, rubbing the materiel between his fingers before dropping it.

You wondered if he was always this touchy with people or if he had just grown comfortable with you fast considering the strange and slightly intimidate circumstances you’d been hanging out under.

He was walking side by side with you but you were following his lead, still not exactly sure where he was bringing you to. You fell back into a comfortable silence like you always did as you traversed the city and you felt a little bit dizzy due to exhaustion and the bright glare of the sun.

It only worsened when you were rounding a corner, passing by a large building that was originally blocking your view of the next street over, and you caught sight of a familiar back that caused you to freeze in your tracks.

Heeseung took a few steps forward before realizing you weren’t continuing and he turned back to look at you with a concerned expression, approaching you again and standing in front of you. His large frame was blocking your view now but you slowly leaned over to look past him and immediately shot back to hide behind his chest and wince.

“What’s wrong?” He was rushing out and his eyebrows were furrowed with worry, a hand coming up but stopping just short of your arm like he wasn’t sure he was supposed to touch you.

“I-I have to go.” You were rushing out and you felt embarrassed underneath your panic, hands shaking slightly and you swallowed harshly.

He was frowning and turning his body to look behind him and try to see whatever had spooked you, immediately whipping back around due to the fact him moving had allowed you to see the man again, this time facing your direction with a suspicious look on his face. You imagined it was due to the fact Heeseung was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk but your heart started to race so hard it was painful at the chance he had seen you.

“Who is that?” Heeseung was, thankfully, getting the idea slowly and lowering his face as he spoke to you. You didn’t answer immediately and he was bending down so he was closer to your face, his hand finally connecting to your arm and cupping the back of your elbow. “Y/N, who is that?”

“It’s my dad.” You whispered back in a harsh tone and you’re not sure why you said it, never talking about family or each others parents before and never planning to.

Heeseung paused for a second and then his eyes were darkening like he had figured something else out, you felt humiliated knowing he must be piecing together every strange reaction you’ve ever had to the suggestion of being brought home by Jake or for him to walk you to your door.

He was glancing behind him again and a small noise of protest slipped out of your mouth, your hands coming up to land on his chest and scrunch his hoodies fabric up in your hands. He was looking back at you quickly and his eyes softened at the scared expression on your face but could still see anger swimming in his.

You weren’t sure if Heeseung was a violent person, thinking there was no way it was possible for the boy who was as sweet to you as he was unprompted, to ever willingly harm somebody but you’d also never given him any reason to be mean or treat you poorly. You thought about his bandaged hands for a second and then immediately felt guilty for doing so.

“Let me take you home.” He was saying after a few seconds and you shook your head, too overwhelmed to think clearly for a second. “Baby, let me take you home.”

The pet name snapped you out of it and you looked up at him, feeling more and more humiliated by the second at the fact your eyes were watering and you were still anxiously bunching his hoodie in your hands.

“T-the bus is too slow, he’s just now leaving the liquor store but he has a car and by the time we walk back and get on and it makes all the stops it’ll be too late and-“ You were speaking a mile a minute and you felt his hand squeeze your arm before he cut you off.

“I’m parked around the corner.” He rushed out in an attempt to stop you so you could take a breath, freezing and furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you registered what he was saying. He winced slightly at your reaction and a weird feeling passed through your chest. You were raising your hands off of his chest before slamming them back down against him in annoyance, ignoring the small pained sound he made.

“You idiot.” You spat out at him in a harsh whisper, shaking your head and glaring up at his guilty face. “You’ve had a car this entire time?”

He looked sheepish and you suddenly felt very stupid for somehow missing this, and then slightly flattered and embarrassed that he had been riding the bus with you every single day despite being parked in the opposite direction. It made sense now to you why he was sometimes hesitant to board, unlocking the knowledge that he had been riding it all the way back alone after you’d gotten off.

“Not the entire time.” He was trying to explain himself but you could tell he was lying slightly. “It was in the shop the first time we met, that’s why Jake drove me home.”

You sighed and glared at him again but you weren’t actually mad, just slightly upset that he had been inconveniencing himself this much for some reason you didn’t quite understand.

“I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” He was offering an explanation before you even had a chance to ask him and your expression softened at the reasoning, hands flatting out against him in a silent apology for hitting him.

“You’re still an idiot.” You were mumbling but your voice held no malice and he smiled at the fact he was clearly forgiven. Things felt tensioned again now that the conversation died down and you were both suddenly reminded of the fact you were touching each other and standing nearly toe to toe. “I really do have to go.”

“And I really will take you.” He was whispering back with a stressed sincerity and you frowned from the guilt of both making him drive you and not eating together like you had planned.

Heeseung was guiding you back around the buildings corner slowly, backing you up and shuffling forward with you so you didn’t need to step out from behind his chest and risk being seen. You were pouting as you awkwardly walked backwards and it remained on your face even when you were able to face forward like normal and follow him to where he had parked his car.

His car looked pretty much exactly how you figured it would, low to the ground and chipping paint in different sections of it but it was very him and you laughed softly when you remembered how ridiculous it was that he’d had one this entire time.

He seemed embarrassed when you got into the passenger seat, looking into the backseat to check if it was messy and rearranging the different CD’s that were sitting on top of his center console. You moved them over to your lap and started to mess with them while he pulled off the curb.

“Basement, Title Fight,” You were humming softly while flipping through them and reading out the artist titles, ignoring the way he was sending you nervous side glances between looking at the road. “Elliot Smith.. is this what you’re always playing in your headphones?”

“Too cliche?” He was retorting back and you scrunched your nose when you looked up at his side profile, a small smirk playing on his lips at your amusement.

“The fact you even keep CD’s still is kind of cliche.” You were throwing back to him and he glanced at you to smile fully and shake his head, watching the way you were leaned against his car door and casually looking through his stuff for a second before going back to focusing on the road.

“You still like me even though I listen to scratched CD’s and drive a 2002 shit bucket?” He was responding and you both paused.

His wording didn’t miss you but you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not, also unable to tell if he was speaking in a platonic way or if he was genuinely asking you if you liked him romantically. His mouth was parting like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack and you cleared your throat before he could, leaning forward to push a CD into the radios slot.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you let the song play for a beat or two before you were leaning back into his torn leather seats and glancing at him again.

“Yeah.. I still like you.” Your voice was lower than it was before, barely filtering over the sound of the music building up but you knew he managed to catch it considering the way he was biting the inside of his cheek and avoiding looking in your direction for the rest of the ride.

He didn’t need to ask you for the way to your neighborhood considering he’s been riding past it 4 times a day but he glanced at you for help when you entered the street and you leaned forward to point towards your house. Your dads car wasn’t in the driveway and you breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled up near the curb.

You didn’t think too much about the state of disarray your home was in this time, for some reason not minding if he saw how messed up things were for you. The feeling had settled into your stomach that he wouldn’t care, that he wasn’t going to give you a sorry look or treat you differently.

He was surprising you by opening his door before you’d gotten out and you watched him round the hood with confusion, flushing when he came over to your side to open yours for you and hold it while you scrambled out. You leaned against the door once he had closed it behind you and he stood in front of you like he had on the sidewalk, his dirty sneakers pressing against the toe of yours.

“So…” You were dragging out the word and trailing off nervously, looking up at him through your eyelashes and thinking about how cute he looked peering down at you.

“So.” His lips were curling up in a smirk at your lack of words and you frowned at the expression, reaching up to pinch at his arm and keep it there when he let out a low chuckle. His hand was coming up to touch your bunny hat and you laughed softly at the way he pushed it behind your shoulder, almost like it was a piece of your hair.

“We shouldn’t be talking here.” You told him in a low voice, not wanting to speak any louder considering how close his face was getting to yours. “My dad would kill me if he saw you.”

“Right.” He was nodding but he wasn’t taking a step back or making any move that indicated he was going to leave, just watching you and you could feel his arm tense underneath your touch. “Do you want me to go?”

You were shaking your head swiftly although you knew he needed to, you liked his company and you found yourself missing him every time you were away for too long. You somehow managed to have fun today despite the fact you’d almost had a panic attack upon seeing your dad and how awkward it had felt to search for him in the school.

“I should go.” He was sighing even though you had said you didn’t want him to, thinking logically despite obviously also not wanting to leave. He was leaning forward again and for a second you could feel his chest pushed up against yours before he swayed back like he hadn’t done it.

Your heart felt heavy at the fact he was going to leave you there, in such a rotten place that left you restless and miserable, but you were slightly humiliated by the large frown on your face. Before you could think about it, in an attempt to hide your expression, you were pulling him forward by his hoodie sleeve and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

He hesitated for a few seconds, just from the surprise of the contact, and then he was slowly wrapping his long arms completely around you and keeping you pulled tightly to his chest. You could feel him take a deep breath, surrounded by his warmth and burying your face into the soft fabric of his oversized hoodie, listening to his heart beat increase slightly when you squeezed him for a second.

You were pulling back after a few seconds, leaning into the car again and you knew your face must’ve been flushed red with a dazed look in your eyes considering the way he faltered and smiled sheepishly at you.

“Well.. I have to go.” You were rushing out to him and he nodded, taking a step back so you were able to walk away without having to push past his large frame.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice was lower than normal and carrying a slight rasp that made something flip around in your gut, trying not to look at him as you quickly waved and scurried away up your front path and into the doorway.

You stood there, back pressed against your front door now that it was closed, and took deep breaths to try and calm yourself down as you listened to his car pull off. A smile was building itself up on your face despite being slightly embarrassed over your bold move and you felt like a cloud of giddiness was following you around.

“So that’s what you sneak off to do every night?” Your entire body froze up in shock and you immediately stopped in place, bones going rigid and blood running cold at the sound of your fathers slurred voice coming from the living room.

Any sense or happiness or calm Heeseung had brought you was immediately disappearing and replaced with terror at the realization he was home, and had clearly seen you through the window before you came inside. You were stuck in silence and you could feel the dark tension radiating off of him although you couldn’t even see him yet.

“You’re out there embarrassing me, making a mess of our name.” He was hissing and you watched him rise from his arm chair and come out of the shadows like a fairytale monster, cowering in on yourself like you were a little girl again. “Whoring around with that delinquent.”

“N-no dad, I promise it isn’t like that I just-“ He was cutting you and your stutters off, slamming his hand down against the wall near your head and you closed your eyes in a wince, listening to the way the framed photos rattled on the wall.

A few seconds passed and you were holding your breath, waiting for him to continue to insult you and tell you what you had done wrong but when the tension continued to grow you realized he was more angry than you thought. You felt your hands hit the floor before you felt the pain in your cheek, not even realizing he had hit you for a few seconds because of the shock.

He’d hit you before but it was rare in recent years, not wanting to risk you showing up to school with a black eye or bruised cheek.

Your hand was coming up to cup the side of your face, shaking against your skin and feeling how hot and swollen it already was from his large calloused palm. You didn’t want to look at him and see his sneering face, instead staring forward at the way your bunny hat had flown off on impact and landed a few feet away on the floor.

“No more going out at night.” He was spitting the words down at you, curled into a ball against the wall on the floor and willingly away the pain under your palm. “I’ll put a padlock on your door if I have to.”

With that, he was staggering back into the darkness of the living room and you could hear the groan of the armchair under his weight. You sat there for a few more seconds, frozen and making sure it was clear for you to move before you were scurrying up the stairs and grabbing your hat as you passed by.

When you got to your room you threw it into the corner and collapsed onto your bed in a fit of sobs, burying your face deep into your pillow and crying so hard you thought you might just explode.

You felt even worse for the reason you were crying, not because you’d gotten caught or punished and not because your father was upset with you. You cried over the fear of not being able to see Heeseung anymore, the idea of never being able to safely return to the city at night causing you such distress you continued to sob until your throat was sore and your chest ached.

The sun was setting eventually and your room was darkening, never having the light switch turned on and just letting the night take over every single day, but you failed to notice considering how burrowed under the covers in your own misery you were.

You didn’t mean to care about somebody this deeply, having sworn against it after your mother passed and you were left with a shell of a man, your father becoming half the person he was with grief and never bothering to heal himself for your sake. You’d spent recent years tiptoeing around the house and trying to show as little evidence as possible that you existed, part of the reason he didn’t fully mind you disappearing at night or sleeping all day.

You felt stupid but getting caught with Heeseung after so narrowly escaping your father in the city, completely letting your guard down and being foolish because of your feelings.

But the other part of you didn’t care, you deserved to be giddy and act stupid because you liked somebody and his reaction wasn’t your fault.

Thinking of Heeseung made you remember he’d probably be waiting for you tonight and you started to cry harder again. You were worried he’d over think about your intimacy and small confession today and mistake you not showing up to the bus stop as you rejecting him, retreating back into yourself and leaving him alone like he had been before your night time meetings.

You must’ve dozed off from crying and the stress of the day, only waking up with dry skin and swollen eyes when you started to register a faint repeated noise.

You were sitting up with a puffy pout and looking around in a dazed confusion, at first because you couldn’t identify it and then even more so because you realized it was coming from your window. You staggered out of bed to open it and stop the noise and you let out a gasp, ducking and just barely missing being hit by a small stone that flew into your room.

“Fuck.” A voice down below was whispering and you glanced down to see Heeseung stood at the side of your house with his hoodie pulled up over his head. “Did I hit you? I’m sorry.”

You felt panic grow in your chest at the sight of him although you were happy to see that you had a chance to explain what had happened, glancing behind you in fear before turning again to glare at him from the second floor.

“You can’t be here.” You hissed out and he gave you a guilty look, like he knew you were going to say that but couldn’t help himself anyways. You let out a small sigh and you eyes softened at his expression. “I told you he was going to kill me.”

You didn’t need to say it for him to understand that your dad must’ve been home and you saw his face darken again like it had earlier, feeling thankful that you were too high up and it was too dark for him to see the bruise that must have been forming on your face now.

“Is he awake?” He was whispering back after a few seconds and you paused at his unexpected question.

He didn’t say anything when you held up a finger to indicate you’d be back, tiptoeing back to the other side of your room and cracking open the door. You held your breath so you could hear every noise clearly and you waited until the sound of his snores filtered up the stairs to you, confirming he had drank himself unconscious again and was out for the night. You still didn’t want to risk sneaking out and having him wake up and you walked back to your window with a heavy heart.

“He’s out but-“ You were starting to explain you couldn’t come along when Heeseung was nodding and walking towards the front of your house, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you called his name softly. He turned back to look at you and you raised your hands in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“Let me in.” He whisper yelled back and gave you a look like it was an obvious thing for you to do, smiling slightly when your astonished face only deepened.

You were groaning when he disappeared around the side of the house and you left your room before you had a chance to think about it more, sneaking down the stairs as silently as possibly and trying not to let out a breath when you passed by the entrance to the living room.

It was strange to see Heeseung on your porch when you cracked open the front door, even stranger when he took a step inside your hallway and you took him in against the familiar setting. You hadn’t had somebody inside your house in years and you were thankful that he kept his gaze tightly on you and didn’t look around at the mess.

You brought a finger to your lips and indicated towards the living room where your dad was, a loud snore coming from him at that exact moment and causing you to jump where you stood. Heeseung was bringing a hand up to your arm in an attempt to calm you and he nodded in understanding that he needed to keep quiet.

When you took a step on the first stair you winced and glanced back at him, knowing his weight and tall frame would make it groan louder than normal.

Still, you took his hand in yours and let it hang behind you as you gently led him up the old wood and into the hallway that would lead to your bedroom. He still didn’t speak once you entered it and for a second you were worried he would ask you to turn the lights on, thankful when he finally took a deep breath and glanced around at your belongings.

“So this is where she returns to.” He was muttering under his breath and you felt a little embarrassed as he took in your room.

Not as embarrassed as you felt when he was looking back at you intensely, you figured he could see you better now that you were closer and illuminated by the moonlight shining in from your window but you knew you were correct when his eyes were hardening again suddenly. You winced slightly when his hands were coming up to cup your face, the right one just hovering and not connecting with the bruised and swollen skin.

“This was him?” He was whispering, his eyes filtering up to stare into yours and your stomach turned at how serious he sounded. You hadn’t seen him have this look in his eye before and it put you slightly on edge.

You were hesitantly nodding your head and you knew your eyes must have started watering judging by the fact his face softened and he gently caressed your uninjured cheek, shaking his head and bringing you over to sit down on your bed.

“I’m sorry.” He was whispering to you and leaning forward to connect your foreheads, watching you with a hurt look. It was reminiscent of the pitiful glance so many people have given you throughout your life but you knew it was different, he was different.

“It’s not your fault.” You were telling him and you truly meant it, your hand coming up to rest on his wrist and squeeze it softly.

“It is though. I should’ve dropped you off up the street where the bus stops, it was stupid.” He was muttering and you wanted to remind him that you’d pointed out your house and you’d been the one to tell him to stay, but you weren’t sure it was going to make much of a difference.

You thought about the fact he was inside of your house right now, only a few hours after you’d gotten punished for even being seen with him and you snorted a teary laugh at the irony of calling such a small act, such as earlier stupid.

“You make me stupid.” You were telling him and he smiled softly at your joking tone, knowing that you were completely serious.

“You scared me when you didn’t show up.” He was saying back and his tone was serious again, brushing back your hair that was normally hidden under your knitted hat. “I was about to tear the city apart looking for you before I thought about coming here first.”

You laughed slightly at the idea of somebody as kind as Heeseung raging through the city in search of you, pressing your head harder against his before leaning back a bit so you could take a deep breath and shake your head at him.

“You’re lucky I woke up before him.” Your tone was light and teasing but you both understood the heavy truth in the statement, his face dropping again.

He had failed to take you literally when you exclaimed about your father killing you but you didn’t blame him, not liking the guilt that coated his face again as he mirrored your deep breath.

“You couldn’t have known.” You were telling him in a gentle voice but he was still not looking at you, only picking up his head when your hand was brushing through his bangs. “Heeseung, it’s not your fault.”

He was nodding softly and chewing on his lip but you had a feeling he was only agreeing to make you feel better, still having that dark guilty look on his face. You sighed softly and glanced behind you at your small bed, scooting back a few inches before looking at him again.

He was giving you a soft and tired smile, clearly understanding what you were insinuating and you tried to not throw up from nerves when you were both moving around so you could lay down on your bed together. You’d been experiencing the most intimacy you’d had since you were a kid with him and your stomach was tight with anxiety.

Heeseung didn’t seem to think much of it, flopping back against your pillows and sucking in a deep relieved sigh. His one knee was bent upwards towards your ceiling and his left arm was sprawled across the rest of the bed, leaving you no choice but to lay on top of it. He was pulling you forward slightly by your shoulders so you could rest your head on his chest and you were slightly relieved to hear how fast it was beating, despite his calm demeanor.

“How’d we get here.” You were whispering after a bit of silence and you could feel his laughter before you heard it, his warm chest rumbling slightly with the sound

“I thought you looked cute standing up to two drunk assholes.” He mumbled back and you pinched his side slightly, draping your arm across his stomach. “You should’ve seen Jake’s face when I asked about you the next morning.”

“Probably the same expression he had when I ran into the store four hours early.” You felt embarrassed to be admitting it but you liked the way it made him laugh again, gently rubbing your shoulder over the shared fact you both had been interested in each other from the start.

You fell into silence again and after a moment you picked your head up again to look at him closer, still pressed against his side but rolling onto your stomach slightly so you could study his face. He was watching you with a curious expression and your hand come up to brush his bangs back, revealing his eyebrow piercing to you again.

He didn’t say anything when you pressed against it, rolling one of the balls between your fingers for a few seconds before rubbing along his eyebrow bone until you hit the bump of metal, but his eyes darkened slightly at your fascination and you faintly felt his hand slip down to your side and squeeze it.

“He called you a delinquent.” You were whispering to him with a small smirk, raising an eyebrow as you recounted what your father had said about him. “He’d probably lose his mind if he came in here right now.”

Heeseung didn’t seem to share your amusement about the subject considering how hard his face was as you talked about it, only his eyes staying soft as he looked over your features from such a close distance.

“I’d kill him.” He was mumbling back and you snickered for a second before realizing he wasn’t laughing, his face serious as he watched you for your reaction to what he was saying. You frowned slightly and laid your hands down on his chest, rubbing it for a second before shaking your head.

“Don’t say that.” You were muttering under your breath, following it with an awkward laugh at the sudden tension in the air.

“I’m serious.” He was saying back immediately and you looked back up at his eyes, frowning deeper since you knew he was telling the truth. A part of you felt strangely prideful about it, your stomach lighting up at the fact he was so protective over you and willingly to interfere if your father busted through the door.

The other part of you was slightly concerned with his sudden demeanor, only catching glimpses of it before and brushing it off considering how gentle and lighthearted he always was with you. You wondered if it was a good time to ask him about the bandages around his hands but you decided against it.

“Then what?” You surprised yourself by humoring his hypothetical situation for a second, watching the way his eyebrows jumped in surprise. “What happens after?”

“You can come with me.” He was saying it swiftly like it was something he’d considered before, eyes remaining serious despite the fact he was noticeably being more careful with his words.

You hummed softly at him, your hand moving from his chest to trail up his neck for a second before coming back to rest again. You didn’t think anything of the movement, just absentmindedly touching him and being fascinated by the feeling of somebody else’s skin other than yours, but you could tell by the way his eyes darkened that you had caught his attention.

“Would you come with me?” He was asking in a low voice, eyes tired and lazy as he peered down at you but very much focused in on your expression as he waited for your response.

You were watching him in return and you were sure he could feel your heart beating against his arm, rolling back around so you were laying on your side again and cuddled up against his side instead of laying on your stomach and directly facing him. You knew your face must’ve been flushed by now and it continued to redden as you thought of a response.

“Of course I would.” You mumbled back and it slightly scared you how much you found yourself meaning the words.

Now it was his turn to him, low and rumbling in his chest against the side of your face. You scooted closer to him instinctively and you felt his hand gently squeeze against your side when he realized you were moving again, your shirt riding up slightly as you shifted so now his skin was pressed against yours.

You were glancing up at him at the feeling of him touching you and you awkwardly looked away when you realized he was already staring, a hazy look in his dark eyes. Heeseung’s demeanor felt different tonight, or maybe it was just the intimate setting.

“C’mere.” He was rasping out the word and the syllables were slurring together, your heartbeat so heavy and loud that you almost didn’t hear him for a few seconds. You scooted up further on his chest so you could look at him, your upper half lifted slightly so your face was hovering over his and he could bring a hand up to cup your uninjured cheek again.

“We can run away together.” He was muttering now that you were close to each others faces again, his big hand nearly covering the entire side of yours and you smiled softly at his statement. He looked slightly serious still but you saw the corner of his lip quirk up and you ducked your head in embarrassment. “I’d take care of you.”

“Oh, would you now?” Your voice was teasing and you raised your eyebrows at him, biting your lip to try and stop the big smile on your face from spreading. You let your arms shift forward again to rest on his chest and you could feel his collarbones under your palm.

He was nodding but not speaking again, watching you intensely and you felt your smile drop slightly at the look on his face. You’d been with a boy before, not all the way and nothing serious but you wouldn’t consider yourself necessarily unexperienced. Still, you’d never felt so tensioned and attracted to somebody before like you did with Heeseung and he hadn’t even tried to kiss you before.

His demeanor, confident but not ever cocky and sometimes sheepish like he acted on impulse, was the most attractive part of him to you and being in such close proximity didn’t help.

“Could you take care of me now?” You weren’t sure what pushed you to whisper the words out to him, hesitant and slow but being said nonetheless and you watch his eyes flash with something unfamiliar for a moment.

Then Heeseung was leaning forward off your pillows, his hand that was cupping your face being used to bring you forward so you could meet him halfway into a slow kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel his heart beating underneath your chest as you scooted forward more to completely lay on top of him and kiss him deeper.

You were overwhelmed by how perfect it felt to be kissing him, how warm and familiar the feeling of him underneath you was and you sucked in a small breath when he pulled back for a second before surging forward again to kiss him more.

If he was surprised by this he didn’t show it, his hand pushing up more so your shirt would ride up on your stomach and he could feel more of your side under his hand. You knew he felt the shiver wrack through you, the goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of the callousness of his and he chuckled softly into the kiss that was getting heavier with every passing second.

You could feel Heeseung biting down on your lip, almost painfully, and you were reminded of that dark expression he sometimes got. He was immediately licking over the skin he had bitten, soothing it out with his tongue and you made an embarrassing noise when he was suddenly slipping it into your mouth.

“Calm down.” He was pulling back a few centimeters to whisper to you, his voice breathy and carrying a small chuckle as he teased you for your reaction.

“I can’t.” You responded honestly, shaking your head softly and leaning in again to peck his lips quickly. Kissing him was addicting and you felt like your head was spinning from the way he was gently rubbing up and down your side so slowly.

He was laughing loudly at your response and your heart clenched affectionately at the sound, immediately followed by the reminder he wasn’t supposed to be here. You glanced over at your door nervously and when you looked back at him again he was frowning and following your line of vision, seemingly also snapping back to reality.

“I should probably go.” He was muttering and your stomach dropped painfully although you knew he was right, it wasn’t smart to get in trouble more.

“I won’t be able to come out at night for awhile.” You were telling him and your voice sounded saddened and panicked, bunching up his hoodie in your fist again like you had earlier when your anxiety picked up.

“Doesn’t matter.” He was shaking his head and petting your hair softly, raising his eyebrows to really exaggerate the fact that he meant what he was saying. “Find me at school tomorrow and we can figure something out okay? He can’t stop me from seeing you.”

You watched him in silence for a few seconds before you were leaning in to kiss him harshly again, completely drinking him in and savoring the feeling of him pressed against you in case it was the last time you got to have him like this. His hands were sliding back into your hair, keeping you tight into the kiss and moving against you just as desperately.

You felt overwhelmed at his sincere words, never having somebody so adamant on being around you, being so protective over you that he was willingly to risk his own safety just to have a conversation with you.

“You’re crazy.” You were gasping out when you pulled back for air, laughing at the way he was pressing more swift kisses against your lips as you tried to talk.

“You make me crazy.” He was slightly altering and repeating the phrase you had said to him earlier, a smile coming back onto his face now that you clearly felt better about the situation.

It took you a while to get off of him, even longer for you to actually leave your room considering the way he kept shaking his hands around your waist to pull you back in to kiss again. At one point he had you pressed against your bedroom door and you tried not to think how tensioned it felt to kiss standing up like this, letting him lean you against the old wood and explore your mouth with a heavy sense of longing and desire.

You were eventually take control of the never ending situation and pushing him out of your door with a final kiss, watching him smile at you and walk slowly down your stairs. He had suggested you stay up in your room in case the door closing woke up your father and he came looking for you, better to find you upstairs versus suspiciously in the front hallway.

You followed Heeseung’s frame, craning your neck outside the window to be able to see parts of your front lawn, and watching as he tugged his hoodie back over his head and walked a few houses down to where he had parked his car.

He was looking back at your window before he got in and the two of you watched each other for a few beats before you were raising your hand in a shy wave, smiling at the way he returned it before getting inside his car and pulling off slowly.

——

You were getting stares as you rushed through the school halls, your peers not used to seeing you so alert at all throughout the day but especially so early in the morning. You’d only slept for an hour or two but you felt energized at the idea of seeing Heeseung again as you searched for him.

The search stopped short when you were suddenly smacking into somebody rounding the corner, clearly not expecting to encounter somebody moving at the speed you were.

You both flew back from the impact and you landed on your butt a bit away from the boy, glancing up swiftly to see it was somebody you recognized, a friend from middle school who had slowly stopped talking to you after your mother died.

“Shit, I’m sorry Sunoo.” You were stuttering slightly and you suddenly remembered that conversation didn’t come easily to you, forgetting this fact considering you only ever spoke to Heeseung. “I was just-“

“Looking for Lee Heeseung?” He was cutting you off and you paused in your explanation to stare at him, his tone more judging than you remember ever hearing it. “What are you doing hanging around with him Y/N?”

He was standing back to his full height and offering you a hand but after faltering for a few seconds you paused, scoffing under your breath and standing without taking it. Once you were off the ground you were glaring at him, not liking the heavy glance he was sending your way.

“What does it matter to you?” You normally wouldn’t be so confrontational but it upset you how concerned he seemed to be despite completely ditching you alongside the rest of your friend group while you were grieving.

He had no place to judge you or who you decided to hang out with, although it confused you how worried he seemed to be about Heeseung. You weren’t sure how he even knew about the boy considering you didn’t recall ever seeing him around school or your old friends before your run in at the convenience store.

“He’s dangerous Y/N.” He was spitting the words at you but you could tell you weren’t the reason for his anger, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at you like he was confused if you truly didn’t understand the reason for his worry.

“What are you talking about?” You were looking at him in bewilderment and you felt your heart start to beat slightly at the fact he was clearly implying something had happened with the boy you’d spent so much time with recently. You were suddenly reminded that you didn’t know much about him, never talking about family life or what he did outside of being with you.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sunoo was sighing and you were confused at his sudden dismissal until you realized his eyes were going past your shoulder now, turning your head and seeing the boy in question standing a few feet away and watching the two of you interact.

Heeseung didn’t look dangerous to you, especially in the way he was clutching the straps of his backpack and carrying a nervous expression. His eyes softened slightly when he saw you but he must’ve registered the worried look on your face because he was suddenly turning in place and going back down the hallway the way he came.

You sighed when he pushed out the side doors, turning back to glare at Sunoo quickly before hurriedly following after the tall boy and rushing back down past the lockers.

“Heeseung.” You were calling his name once you pushed through the double doors, the cold morning air hitting your face swiftly and you winced a bit. “Hee, stop.”

He paused at the sound of your voice and you saw him suck in a reluctant breath before he was turning around to face you. You caught up to him quickly and stopped a few inches in front of him, reaching up to grab his hoodie sleeve and trying not to be offended when he flinched away from your touch.

“What happened?” You were questioning him with slightly widened eyes, looking up at him and trying to read what his face was expressing. “Why are you running away from me?”

“What did he say to you?” His voice was hardened and he was staring daggers down at you, your face crumbling at the harsh expression that you’d never seen directed your way before.

“Nothing, he said nothing.” You were shaking your head quickly and he let out a disbelieving scoff, looking away from you and clenching his jaw in agitation. “Hee, I’m serious. He didn’t say anything, a bunch of none sense I didn’t even understand.”

He was glancing down at you again like he was trying to see if you were telling the truth or not, being met with your big wide eyes and sighing softly in guilt for being so quick to anger. His hand was coming up to touch your face and you leaned into it even though you were still feeling confused over what was happening.

You didn’t say anything when he was reaching down to grab your hand gently, leading you with him out towards the parking lot where you spotted his car parked near the back. You frowned softly behind his back but got into the passenger seat anyways and watched as he started it up but didn’t pull off.

The heat blaring created a small rattling noise and you could hear the song you’d put on before still playing faintly, flushing a bit at the realization he hadn’t changed the CD and was just letting it play on repeat.

“Are you scared of me?” He was suddenly asking and you glanced over at him from the passenger seat, seeing the way he was staring down at his hands as he picked at the skin around his fingers. His legs were spread so his knee was pressing against the middle console and you reached over to place your hand on it gently.

“Of course I’m not.” You were whispering back to him and shifting your body so you could completely face him, your eyes following along his side profile and frowning at how defeated he looked.

“Even if I told you I did something bad?” He was finally glancing at you and you felt sick at how vulnerable his eyes looked, shifting nervously over your face and you hoped your expression didn’t convey how nervous you suddenly felt. “That I hurt somebody really bad?”

You were watching him in silence and it felt like the air from the car got sucked out with his words, hinting towards something darker than you’d expected him to admit. You thought back to the expression he sometimes carried, the way he spoke about your father so casually and the worry on Sunoo’s face. You watched him while thinking of this and you thought about all the other things to.

How he was always so gentle and kind with you, warm and comforting and never doing anything to make you feel worried despite most your time with him being spent alone and late at night. You didn’t know every detail about his life but that didn’t make him seem dangerous to you, he felt familiar and safe and you instinctively squeezed his knee.

“Did they deserve it?” You were finally croaking out, settling on a response that you felt properly conveyed your stance on what he was saying.

You’d thought from the moment you met him that Heeseung was similar to you and you knew the reasons you couldn’t sleep, the demons that kept you up all night restless. You tried to imagine what his looked like and you figured if you were bigger and braver, maybe you’d tried to hurt yours back too.

He wasn’t saying anything for a few seconds, just looking at you like he hadn’t expected that response and you knew immediately it had been the right thing to say. His face was crumbling and he was biting his lip to stop it from trembling, ducking his head forward to nod as an answer to your question.

You were leaning forward over the middle console to pull him in for a hug, not caring about the way the plastic pressed into your stomach uncomfortably or the burn your arms felt from stretching so far to embrace him. He’d help you more than once, brought you back from a dangerous place and a low state of mind and your heart tugged at the sight of him showing that same vulnerability now.

“It’s not your fault.” You were whispering into his hoodie and his arms were snaking around your middle, a small surprised noise slipping from your mouth when he was tugging you over the console and situating you in his lap. He was burying his head deep into your neck and your hand was coming up to rest on the back of his head, his hoodie fabric under your palm.

You didn’t need to hear the full story, you didn’t need for him to painfully recount the details or what had happened for him to do something so drastic and you didn’t need to know who.

Him softly crying into your neck and clutching onto you like a scared child was all you needed to believe him, to understand that whatever rumor or perspective others such as Sunoo had, was wrong.

He was picking his head up to look at you and your heart broke at his red face, tears streaming down his cheeks and a frustration expression coating his features like he was mad at himself for showcasing how upset he was. He was suddenly pressed against you in a kiss and you hesitated for a second in surprise before kissing him back.

You were pushing his hoodie off his head so you could put your hands through his shaggy hair, pulling him tighter against you and feeling the way his wet face was pressing onto yours.

“You can’t leave me.” He was gasping into your mouth and his hands were shakily coming up to cup your face, tilting your head softly and humming into the kiss when you were licking into his mouth and leaning forward so his back was pressed against the car door.

Heeseung was moving a hand down towards your back and you could feel him continuously tugging you forward into him, your hip bone pressing against his stomach as you both found comfort in each others touch. You let him do this for a few seconds longer before you were pulling back a bit to address what he had said.

“I’m not going to leave.” You were gasping as you said it, still trying to catch your breath and he was shaking his head before tugging you forward again, a small noise slipping from your mouth at the feeling of him dragging you up further into his thigh.

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

It slightly unsettled you how serious he sounded, how he really stressed the words like they were the most important in the world. His hands were still holding onto you tightly like he was terrified you’d slip away if he let up even a little bit and your eyes bounced around his face for a few seconds before you were nodding.

“We can be crazy together.”

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

“We can be crazy together.”

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #jake enhypen #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enha fics #enha angst #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung au

3K notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 1 year ago

Text

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 1

I finished reading through my copy of the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." There's tons of fantastic information about the series, but I wanted to share my thoughts/commentary on parts that were the most interesting to me. Since there's so much content to cover, I'll be dividing it into a few different posts. Also, rather than go in the order of the book's sections, I decided to group the content based on topic. This first post will cover Endo's comments about the characters individually, as well as information about Garden.

Endo's Q&As and comments about the characters

Loid:

I like that Endo provides a reason for why Loid wears a WISE logo pin as it's something more than one fan of the series has questioned! And I totally agree with Lin about his "lack of distinctive features." Compared to so many other anime characters, especially shonen main characters, Loid's design is so plain, particularly in his hair and clothes. At least in his spy outfit he has a gun to make him a little flashier, but when he's in his casual clothes, he literally just looks like "some guy," haha. But that also makes sense for his character.

I love how Endo gave specific numbers for comparing Loid and Yor's strength (Yor: 10, Loid: 6-7)

Anya:

I did notice what Endo is talking about how Anya's design changed over time. But that can be said for all the characters really, and it's definitely not uncommon for manga-ka's styles to evolve as they get a better feel for their characters and world.

He mentions the classical language thing that was also brought up in chapter 42. Definitely makes me think that will somehow tie into her backstory.

Speaking of Anya's backstory, there was this little excerpt about the researchers at the lab. So one thing we can say for sure about her past is that she was not treated well there at all (which has been hinted at in the series).

Endo also discussed the origin of Anya's pink hair (namely, there really isn't any origin, lol).

Yor:

Interesting that he spent the most time designing Yor, and also about the origin of her stilettoes. And his apology to the cosplayers for that bonus feature about Yor's hair, haha.

I had to chuckle when he said they can't measure her strength because she keeps breaking the instruments! Also the fact that she hasn't learned how to make a single successful meal since the stew…Endo is such a savage sometimes, lol. But keep in mind that this book was originally published over a year ago, and obviously we know from recent chapters that her cooking is improving. I also like that he mentions that she has left witnesses to her work, like in Extra Mission 2. I wonder if that will be a bigger plot point somewhere down the line.

Like Anya having pink hair, Endo expresses some regret about making Yor an assassin (but his laugh makes it clear he's not terribly hung up about it!)

Bond:

I know some people are bothered by the fact that Yor is Bond's least favorite. But I think Bond's (initial) dislike for her originated from the chapter where he assumes he would have died from her cooking. Also the fact that Anya put the idea in his head that she would "murder" him if he did something she didn't like, like shun her food (which is obviously heavily exaggerated). But again, this book was published over a year ago, and the most recent chapter revealed that he definitely doesn't dislike her even if she's not his favorite. It's perfectly normal for pets to have family members they prefer over others for whatever reason.

Franky:

I love that Franky does charity work. I hope we'll see that in a future chapter.

Fiona:

It's interesting that he ranks Fiona's combat ability so low, especially when you consider what she did to Wheeler in the recent arc. But to me, that wasn't so much a display of combat prowess as it was totally raw, uninhibited willpower.

Yuri:

I love his blunt answer about whether Yuri has other interests besides Yor. Also intriguing that he mentions Nightfall when discussing Yuri's combat ability…maybe those two will meet eventually?

Information about Garden

Since Garden is still such a mysterious entity in the SxF universe, I tried to gather everything about them that the book mentions.

It's interesting that Yor sees Shopkeeper as her mentor since he taught her survival skills in her youth. The book also raises the question about how Yor found Garden in the first place…maybe something Endo will expand on in the future?

So the information Franky gives us about Garden is exaggerated? Gah, that just makes them even more mysterious!

The above was a cool bit of trivia...so it seems like the secret police might know more about Garden than WISE. Perhaps Yuri will find out about Yor's real identity before Twilight?

Continue to Part 2 ->

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #yuri briar #franky franklin #fiona frost #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers #tatsuya endo

975 notes · View notes

anniflamma · 3 months ago

Note

This isn't a question, but rather a love letter to your art<3.

Thanks to you, I've started enjoying Greek mythology and the Bible again (I mean from a point of artistic, mythological, historical, and theological analysis; my status with any kind of religion is being agnostic XD).

And I already enjoyed Epic the Musical, but I really love the designs you make, how you empathize with the symbolism and lore of the Gods when designing them, and how you make Odysseus so human with his crude expressions that makes me empathize with him (And he's one of the characters I hated the most from Greek mythology lol)

And then there’s your art about the bible, I have to admit that I tend to avoid the biblical religion because of the weight it still has on our daily lives, the damage it has done from the past to this day, and how they deny it with current hypocrisy (I live in Spain, there the official religion is catholic), but your lgbt drawings have really encouraged me to open the bible and see it from an objective and neutral point of view, and just enjoy it as another book and not as something I’m forced to follow.

Also I didn’t know there was so much LGBT content in the bible XD Seriously, thank you so much, if you had a patreon, I would pay you for the amount of happiness and culture you have given me (^///^)

By the way, reading your posts I found out that you recently experienced an internet drama that has become so popular lately. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry that both you and that poor artist had to go through this, that human hypocrisy has no limits or shame, and that I agree with everything you say. Just because we like a character or an author doesn't mean we agree with their crimes or ideologies.

I hope you have a nice day<3

Hi! I’m sorry it took me a while to respond! I mean it, I’ve read this over and over, and it makes me so happy. I’ve been thinking about how to respond, but sometimes it's hard to get it out into words.

It makes me so happy that my biggest interests make others interested in it too. Heck, when people ask questions, I get all giddy!

Talking about biblical/christian saints, greek myths, history, different cultural views and changes was kind of the whole point of why I started this tumblr blog. I have so many drafts filled with random info about LGBTQ+ saints..... Now… I post mostly thirsty drawings of greek gods with hairy chests... T.T

And I sympathize a lot when it comes to religious trauma. I consider myself lucky in these matters, my mom is Catholic, and she has her views that I don’t agree with and hurtful. Yet she still supports me in her way and watching my bible retelling animatics, everytime I post a new bible animatic, she writes me: "What have you done to Daniel..."

I also have my hurts and anger towards hypocrisies too, and I guess this is my way of countering that?

LGBT content in the Bible is something that really fascinates me. I think it's important to keep in mind that people from about 2,500 years ago had very different views when it came to gender and sex compared to how we see it today. In a way, the Bible does have strict social gender expectations, and if you didn’t fit in, then you weren’t considered part of that gender. But at the same time, it acknowledges that your sex. I think it’s in the Talmud were it discusses the fact that, throughout the Bible, there were about eight genders:

Zachar: male.

Nekevah: female.

Androgynos: having both male and female characteristics.

Tumtum: lacking sexual characteristics.

Aylonit hamah: identified as female at birth but later naturally developed male characteristics.

Aylonit adam: identified as female at birth but later developed male characteristics through human intervention.

Saris hamah: identified as male at birth but later naturally developed female characteristics.

Saris adam: identified as male at birth but later developed female characteristics through human intervention.

Some scholars even believe that Abraham and Sarah were Tumtum. A Tumtum is not considered to be very distinct but rather flexible between male and female sex/gender—"sometimes he is a man, and sometimes he is a woman." The simple fact that God said Abraham had a womb and from it, he would have children. Some say that this is why he is a Tumtum, while some historical linguists argue that ancient Hebrew didn’t have the vocabulary for male genitalia yet. Both arguments are valid, and I like them both!

There’s tons of stuff I could bring up—Joseph with his princess dress, Naomi and Ruth, David and Jonathan, and the discussions around whether Daniel was a Saris Hamah or a Saris Adam. We know he was called a saris, but we’re just not sure which. And then there's Jael, whose story is filled with a lot of phallic symbolism, and even her name is very gender-neutral.

I think I’m going to end here. I could yap about these things forever! But thank you again taking your time writing to me and I hope you also have a nice day! <3

#asks #bible #ancient queer history

159 notes · View notes

attentialkane · 23 days ago

Text

Okay I went full circle and went back to drawing fanart, but honestly I cannot be bothered to draw unless it's something I'm hyperfixating on and DE is giving me brain worms.

I've been SERIOUSLY struggling with letting myself be consumed with another piece of media (we will not be talking about my almost decade long jse hyperfix thank you) because most of my current friends have really cool interests and I felt silly being so fixated on videogames so I kinda just shut off everything and tried to """"intellectualize""" more hoping that it would also translate into original art, but all it did was give me an almost year long artblock and zero inspiration for anything and many many many projects that I never finished (see the shop, all the ocs I just forgot about etc etc etc...) - and I think that is exactly where I went wrong, most of my passion projects despite being aus or fan related content have never lacked of deep meaning. ( See the mhau, which btw I'm going to revist in some way – as I told to a friend I'm not letting a 4 years long project rest to rot lol. It's probably gonna get turned into another original story, unrelated to jse and the other admins of the au out of respect.)

I'm trying to take in what this year has been artistically for me because as for personal growth it's a can of worms I don't want to open.

I think taking a break from fanart and posting art to do more irl art stuff did do me good for a while, but then I carried it on for too long and it did the exact opposite.

As for numbers go, I've had most of my hit posts (mostly qsmp on twt and tumblr and some mouthwashing stuff), which was super great for a bit until it quickly burnt out.

The thing with running art pages (I've made and deleted at least 10 art accounts, yes that is another mistake) is that it's almost impossible to have fanart and originak content coexist with the same engagment.

Anyways, still I feel like I still improved artistically and I finally let go of ibis paint to use csp, which has been great.

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #digital painting #harry du bois #disco elysium #de #disco elysium fanart #harry #harrier du bois

110 notes · View notes

fatuismooches · 29 days ago

Note

My personal headcanon is that Dottores main lab in sneznyaha is underneath his mansion (that the fandom all collectively agrees each harbinger was given lol) so walking into his mansion it’s completely deserted. No lights, no decor, not much furniture, just …empty. Further into the mansion there would be a secret hidden entrance that leads down into the massive laboratory that is buzzing with activity.

After waking up fragile reader probably wouldn’t even know there’s a whole mansion above them because dottore is very protective and he hasn’t installed security up there. Maybe once they learn about that a segment will take them up to see it . I imagine reader would like the mansion portion of their lovers property. They can sit by the windows and watch the snowfall without being scolded for being in weather too harsh for them. Dottore doesn’t like them up there alone because of the lack of security.

Maybe once they’re feeling better they can make use of the grand and untouched kitchen and whip up their lovers some treats because we all agree he has a sweet tooth <3

Dottore had never needed or cared for a fancy way of life. His lab was suited for his desires (always engrossed in his research) and was equipped to handle all of his needs (and yours too, of course, he had made sure of every little detail before you woke up.) The only reason he remembers the existence of the upper floors is because he and the segments obviously need to exit from there. Honestly, he could do without it... new agents sometimes get lost trying to find the entrance to the lab. (The mansion was given to him with expensive furniture too, but over time the segments eventually started selling it for a bit of extra funds. No one questions the bareness.)

You never really questioned the layout of the lab because well. Dottore + lab just makes sense. You don't find out about the whole mansion aspect until you hear a poor agent talking about how dusty it is up there. Of course, your interest is immediately piqued while you're also impressed the entrance upstairs is so well hidden despite your thorough analysis of the lab... hmph.

Dottore, on the other hand, is a bit annoyed at the babbling of his agents, but he knew that this would happen eventually. He just wished it was at... a later date. Preferably farther into the future. Preferably when he had an actual chair up there and the copious amount of dust wouldn't make you flare up. That was just preferable of course. Now with your pleading eyes and constant clinging to his arm quick measures were to be taken.

He still doesn't quite understand why you'd want to be up there when the lab has everything and more, but it makes you content... so it's fine. Something that Dottore had learned was that he doesn't need to analyze and pick apart every part of your brain all the time but rather just go along with what makes you comfortable. (Which could be a challenge sometimes, considering the kind of man he was.)

If the mansion had a balcony there would be many cute dates there... a good way of being outside while being able to quickly warm up! You two would watch the view together and some birds would visit you!

(I always imagine Reader shares the big lab kitchen with the Fatui agents, and although Dottore makes them clear out while you use it, sometimes they pop in accidentally and just. Watch you make sweets for *the* Il Dottore. With a cute lil 'remember to take breaks!!' note to the side. Real crazy stuff goes on in his lab... So yes, you would definitely appreciate that kitchen. Dottore watches from the side because you banned him since he kept stealing bites before the sweet was even finished.)

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #omg the skrunkly... PROTECTIVE DOTTORE!!! explodes #anon this is canon to me btw #AND YEA EACH HARBINGER DEF JUST HAVE THEIR OWN MANSION #pantalone has MULTIPLE. maybe even in every nation #childe has one but would rather stay with his family when possible.#arlie also has the house of the hearth #i also think sandrone's case is similar to doter but i also think shes more classy #i imagine when pierro showed him his mansion when he was recruited doter was :I but showing his lab had him like :DDDD #ARGHHHH THIS IS GIVING ME SM BRAINROT

105 notes · View notes

profundcherrylady · 6 days ago

Text

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI.

A/N: Finally writing about Sae's late wife because y'all have been begging me to (y'all: like 3 people). Honestly idk if I'm gonna make more parts of this one so sorry I can't think of anything else at the moment (and I have other themes I wanna write)

Warnings: Mentions of death (kinda explicit but not too much) and SOME angst, bc obviously he's gonna be sad. Lots of grieving (it all works out in the end trust 🙏)

Contents: Sae being a little careless and awkward lol, kid not knowing a single thing about keeping her thoughts to herself, some fluff but this is a weird mix of like three things at the same time including hurt/comfort. Implied fem!reader (usage of femenine pronouns for reader, reader being refered to as 'miss')

Description: After losing his daughter at the supermarket, y/n FINALLY makes and appearance and makes the tag "sae x reader" make sense for once.

At the vegetable section, you struggled to choose between the various options to bring home for dinner. It shouldn't be this hard, since you were all by yourself most of the time, but you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat. It was then when you felt a gentle tug on your coat that made you look down, little teary teal eyes meeting yours and almost making you smile at the adorable sight of this kid staring at you in confusion.

"Hey sweetheart, what's wrong? Where are your parents?" you took notice of the lack of adult supervision this child had, since all the other adults around seemed to be either alone or not in panic of having lost a kid.

The girl opened her mouth to speak but then paused (seemingly reconsidering her words) and then spoke again, "Hi, my name is Mao Itoshi. I can't find my papa right now, can you help me find him or get me to the 'nearesest' 'autohority'?

And your heart almost melted at the way she messed up her little speech (which you assumed was given by her father in case she got lost). And how could you say no to helping this little angel? "Aw, of course honey, let's get you to your dad." you took her small hand in yours, ensuring she wouldn't get lost again, and started walking around in hopes to find her father. She still seemed a little scared and confused but you managed to calmed her down with the assurance of finding her dad. "What does he look like?"

"Um... he's... super tall and super cool-looking." you chuckled at her answer. Of course she wouldn't give you an actual description.

"I mean, what's the color of his hair or his eyes. Does he have eyes like yours?"

"Yeah."

"And what's his name?"

"...Papa?" you laughed again.

"You know your dad's name isn't 'papa', right? He has an actual name."

"He does??? What is it?"

"I don't know." you giggled. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll know when we find him."

"Mao!!" a short-breathed, panicked voice interrupted your little conversation, and it was then when you spotted Sae for the first time. You weren't particularly interested in football, but even then Sae's reputation as the country's favorite midfielder was hard to ignore. One would think he wouldn't be out in a public space like this, but here he was, a totally different face as what was shown in the media. He looked just like a regular father, relived to have found his child.

"Papa!" the child beamed at the sight of her dad, and she let herself be carried and hugged as soon as he reached her.

"What were you thinking wandering around like that? You're just so- I've told you a million times- You are in so much trouble, young lady, you- What did you think would happen if-" he took a moment to breathe. In moments like this one, gentle parenting was probably one of the hardest things Sae has ever done. He tried his best to not loose his cool and scream at her; that wouldn't solve anything. The important thing was that she was safe and sound. "...You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days. Something bad could've happened to you, you know? I'm just... glad you're okay." and it was then when Sae first took notice of you, standing awkwardly trying to not ruin the little family reunion.

"She helped me get to you, papa." he heard his daughter explain, and it made sense because he knew the little girl would probably still be crying for her dad if no one was there to help. So although he would've liked to avoid the extra social interaction, he figured the least he could do was say thank you.

"Thank you for helping her. I've told her to not wander around, especially in big supermarkets like this, but she just won't listen sometimes..." you chuckled once again, now more from embarrassment than amusement at her antics.

"That's okay. I know how kids can be."

"You got any?" he inquired, and you shook your head with another laugh (which Sae didn't understand because he asked seriously).

"Nah. I mean, they're nice, I'm not saying I wouldn't like any, but I don't have any kids at the moment. Just little siblings; they can be just as difficult."

"You don't have to tell me twice..." he scrunched his nose a little at the thought of Rin as a child, and how difficult he was to handle, which in retrospective made it easy to figure how he got along so well with his niece (lil bro was just as problematic)

"But your kid seems nice. I'm sure she's a good child."

"When she wants to be... but mostly yes, I try to make sure she grows up to be good."

"I'm pretty sure she will."

"Are you single, miss?" Sae turned his head at his child so fast he might've breaked his neck, but he didn't care about that, he was too busy being shocked.

"Mao, don't ask people things like that."

"Why not? She's so nice to me, I like her. And you're single too!"

"That doesn't mean you can ask her if she's single. You need to think before you speak a little more, god..." he turned to you again, "So sorry about her; seems like she hasn't learned social norms yet." (Isn't that his job to teach her? Lol.) "We'll be going now, thanks again." with the still complaining child on his arms, he walked away to his shortly abandoned shopping cart, making sure to NOT set her down this time so he could keep an eye on her.

"Papaaaaa."

"Don't throw a tantrum in here, please... what's going on now? What you did was wrong, you know?" he sighed. "I don't you didn't mean anything bad, but you can't just ask any woman who is nice if she's single and try to set her up with me."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't correct, okay? Why are you insisting so much on this?" she pouted, hiding her face on his shoulder on an attempt to not talk to him. Sae rolled his eyes at the sight as he continued pushing the shopping cart through the aisles, then spoke again. "Come on, tell me."

"I wanna do the mommy-daughter dance at school..."

"Oh..." that made it make sense. "I could do it with you; you don't have to set up strange women with me for a parent-daughter dance."

"It's a mommy-daughter dance! It's not the same... I'm the only one who doesn't have a mom and the teacher says it's okay but I know my classmates are gonna think I'm weird." he hummed, understanding her feelings. Of course, he hadn't gone through anything similar, but he could get how she could feel singled out if she showed up to a mother-daughter dance with her father. He really did wish there was something he could do to make her feel a little better.

"Well, sweetie, there's not much I can do... you know I'm happy to do the dance with you if you want." he felt her lower her voice a little as he got closer to the line infront of the check-out.

"I know..."

"Don't get so sad... you're not going to be left out, I promise. It's the same thing, I mean, what difference does it make? I'm still a parent, and you said your teacher said it was okay."

"She did..." Sae's attempts to cheer up his daughter were failing, so he went straight to the only fool-proof plan he's ever known to always work.

"You want me to buy you ice-cream?"

"Okay..." he smiled a little for her, hoping to coax her to do the same, and once he was close enough to the small ice-cream freezer next to the cash register he opened the lid to take one for the little girl (one he knew for sure that she loved, just to be safe). But as he was taking out his hand he took notice of your presence, again. You looked even more surprised than him, but your expression quickly changed at the sight of the sad child.

"Aw... it's you again." you said, "why the long face, little one?"

"Don't mind her, she's upset about something... rightfully." Sae responded before Mao could. "Can't do anything about it though."

"A mother-daughter dance."

"And... why is that difficult...? Does she not have a...?"

"No."

"Oh... I'm very sorry." he answered you straight to the point. He was used to people asking about his late wife but he never bothered talking about it. It just... still hurt. And it kind of hurt even more knowing he couldn't give his daughter the one thing she yearned for the most, even though everyday he tried his hardest to give her the best life possible. He did everything in his power, he fought and struggled and worked day-to-day to be both a father and a mother somehow but it still wasn't enough. She still missed her mom as much as he did and the thought of replacing that woman was... well, there's just a reason why Sae was out of the dating game after his wife's passing.

And now he was here, teary-eyed child on his arms and a woman he only met once that same day on the supermarket, when the possibly stupidest idea came up to his brain, and he made the stupidest decision of saying it out loud.

"Listen, I know we don't... know each other technically but my daughter seems to think you're nice and... could you go with her to that dance? She just... she doesn't want to feel left out." he was also kind of desperate. Like really, really desperate because if he wasn't he wouldn't be asking this to a supermarket stranger. "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I... can't seem to find a solution to this. She'll settle to go with me if I tell her but she'll be sad and... people won't know you aren't actually her mom. It'll just be one night."

You doubted for a moment, but when you looked at that sad little girl with her big eyes full of tears, how on earth were you supposed to say no?

"Okay, I'll do it. I don't mind."

"And don't get me wrong, okay? I'm not trying to... replace her mother or anything; it's just that one night." he warned, and you nodded. "Thank you."

He tried to be nonchalant about it, however it was hard to deny the strange feelings he had about the situation. He closed himself off after his wife passed away and he promised to not try and find her a replacement, alas not get married again. This was the mother of his only child and the one woman he could say he's ever loved; how could he just throw that away dating someone else after she died like that? It felt wrong, somehow.

When he got married it was "til dead do us apart" so, what now that it did? He couldn't move on, no matter how much he tried. Even when his wife was dead he was struggling to process that he was a widowed man; whatever interaction he had with any woman for some reason still felt like a betrayal of his marriage. Like cheating. He was cheating on his wife who was no longer even alive. His daughter was motherless and he was a little bit of a coward. Many people had told him it was the grieving process and that the feelings would pass with time but they didn't feel like they were. He still teared up a little whenever he remembered that day when the stupid rain caused a stupid car crash that his wife wasn't even involved in yet got unjustly affected from the aftermath of the crash. Or when he got home and remembered he was one person short of a family. Yes, he had a daughter and furthermore a family to come home to, yet he felt... oddly lonely.

Was that normal? Was he allowed to feel lonely? How could he when she still had that child waiting for him at home and looking up to him, making him drawings and giving him hugs whenever she felt sad?

Maybe it was because he spent so much time working, or because his daughter spent a lot of time at her preschool, that it almost felt like it was just him. That he really was lonely.

So, fast-forward to a few months later, imagine his surprise when (before he could even realize it) you were part of his daily routine? It had become so frequent for his daughter to ask for your presence at school events or things like do her hair or just play together for a while that in a very short amount of time he found himself calling you over every weekend, and maybe making a little conversation with you while you were there. Then hours would pass and it would become a little too late for you to go home, so he'd offer you spend the night, and later inquire if you had dinner yet to make sure he had made enough food. The morning would come and with the moon hiding to let the sun rise you'd be gone as well; quick farewells before you rushed back to your own routine and his daughter would inevitably ask how much was left to see you again.

Then he'd chuckle at her impatience, staring at the door you just left through for a brief second.

And he'd say 'soon'.

#sae itoshi fluff #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #sae x reader #sae itoshi #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk #blue lock #blue lock drabbles #bllk drabbles #bllk fluff #bllk fic #bllk x you #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff

66 notes · View notes

bad268 · 8 months ago

Note

Hi I really like your stories! And i was thinking that could you possibly write another one for Kimi Antonelli with a reader that can’t speak Italian while they are travelling in Italy? I believe this is going to be really interesting!

Good Enough (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! Some of this is a real conversation I had with one of my friends)

Warnings: Language lol, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1052

Summary: Duolingo can only do so much

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You liked to think that you were well-versed in many things. Italian was not one of those things. That was a bit of a problem especially when your boyfriend is Italian. You would visit him constantly, but you never left his house.

You were a homebody at heart, so you were more than content to stay at his house whenever you came to visit. It was just who you were.

However, Kimi wanted to show you around. He had a larger break between his Formula 2 season-ender and Formula 1 debut, and you were already planning to stay with him during the winter break. He wanted to take you around Bologna, his home city, and take you to all of his favorite places. This was mainly because you took him to all of your favorite places when he visited you and your home city before the season started, so he wanted to return the favor.

The first place you went to was his favorite cafe.

“But this sign says “bar,” Kimi,” You laughed as you reluctantly followed him to the building.

“Bar is a cafe in Italian,” Kimi laughed as he led the door open for you. You walked in and, true to his word, it was a cafe. You walk up to the counter to order, but everything is in Italian.

“How am I supposed to know what’s here?” You signed trying to recognize anything on the menu. “It’s all Italian.”

“Huh, wonder why,” Kimi joked, “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order for you.”

“Can I just get a coffee with cream and sugar? I feel like that’s easy, right?” You asked looking around at the options, and you saw a bunch of coffee beans behind the counter. Surely they’d have coffee.

“Ciao, vorresti ordinare?” The barista asked as she saw you standing there. You immediately looked over to Kimi for him to respond.

“Ciao, vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero e un tè con latte,” He said to her before turning his attention to you. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Do they have croissants?” You asked, and he nodded, turning his attention back to the barista.

“E due croissant, per favore,” He replied as he pulled out money to pay. “Grazie!”

“I’m never going to learn Italian,” You groaned as you walked to a table on the outdoor patio to wait for your food. “It’s difficult, and I don’t even know what you ordered us.”

“I could always tell you what I said,” he laughed. “I bet I could also teach you.”

“Please,” You let up as you grabbed his hand from across the table. “Duolingo is not helping. If anything, it’s making it more difficult to understand.”

“You tried Duolingo before asking your Italian boyfriend to learn Italian? Mamma mia!” Just then, the barista brought out your food and drinks before heading back behind the counter. “Here, I’ll help. This,” he said as he gestured to your cup of coffee, “I said I would like a coffee with cream and sugar. Vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero. Try it.”

“I’m going to butcher the accents,” You admitted as you tried it out, and sure enough, you messed up a little, but it was not too far off the original. That could be chalked up to the lack of an Italian accent. “Was that horrible?”

“Not at all!” He encouraged as he took a drink from his tea. “Then I said I also wanted a tea with cream. Un tè con latte. Are you seeing the resemblance?”

“So tè is tea and cafè is coffee?” You asked and were met with a nod from him. “Then latte is cream, con is with, and zucchero is sugar.”

“Yes! That’s all right!” He smiled as he passed you one of the croissants. “Then what would ‘due croissant’ mean?”

“Two croissants, I’m guessing?” You answered nervously but were met with a smile.

“Sì, you’re doing great!” He praised as he brought your hand up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Now, do you know what ‘ciao’, ‘per favore’ and ‘grazie’ mean?”

“Of course, I know ‘ciao’! I’ve heard Bella Ciao before,” You joked. Kimi’s eyes widened as if still asking the question. “It means hi, right?” “Yes, but what about the others?”

“‘Per favore’ sounds like ‘please’ in Spanish, so I’m assuming that,” You replied, “And I bet ‘grazie’ is thank you. You’ve said that a lot, especially after the race, to your engineers.”

“Corretto!” That’s when he noticed you were both done with your drinks and noticed you were done, so he stood up to take the glassware back to the counter before coming back to you. “How about we go shopping? I can keep teaching you Italian while we walk around my favorite places.”

“That sounds fun,” You said as you stood up and followed him down the street, hand in hand. “I need a new jacket anyway.”

“Io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Huh?”

“I need a new jacket in Italian is io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” He laughed seeing your confused face.

“Is this going to be a new theme? Anything I say, you’re going to translate it?”

“Se vuoi che lo faccia,” He said, causing you to glare at him. He laughed lightly before translating, “If you want me to.”

“As hot as I find your accent and you speaking Italian to me, I’d rather you not do that,” You admitted. “Can we just stick to small words that I definitely already know the meaning of and small lessons here and there?”

“Well, what words do you already know?”

“Ciao, per favore, grazie-”

“Word that I did not teach you before today,” He cut you off with a laugh.

“Uh, amour means love, ti amo means I love you, and um, one that’s not so good willed,” You chuckled nervously as you both walked by a huge group of people.

“I still want to know what it is,” He pressed once everyone cleared out of the way, and he pulled you to the side in an alley for more privacy. “What is it?”

“Vaffanculo,” You whispered, “It means fuck you.”

“Technically, it means go fuck yourself, but close enough.”

~~~~~

292 notes · View notes

pearikp · 9 months ago

Text

It's said that the only way to access Mhin's red choice is by choosing the Alchemist background, and that fact alone has me thinking about how the origin stories will actually impact the course of the game at full release. I wouldn't assume that you have to choose a certain origin to get a "good" or "bad" ending for a specific character, but (as stated by RSS directly) different origin stories will allow the main character to connect differently with each of the main five love interests.

Obviously, this isn't revolutionary, but I wanted to touch on which origins I think will be best suited for each route, based solely on scraps from the demo lol

For Kuras, I think the Alchemist and the Unnamed suit him the best. The former really comes from the fact that Ais' relationship chart suggests Kuras likes to ramble about alchemy, and because it has a lot to do with his role as a doctor, I would assume it opens up a lot of opportunities for him to connect with the Alchemist MC. I am more convinced of the latter based on the actual content of the demo. If you played the Unnamed origin, you may remember when the MC states that something about Kuras "nags" at them, "like a half-formed memory". This small line can obviously allude to Kuras not being human (and the Unnamed MC can pick up on it because of their sensitivity to the supernatural), or it could also imply that maybe this background gives the MC and Kuras a deeper sort of association with one another. I also encourage you to consider the dynamic of an excommunicated oracle in love with an excommunicated divine eldritch being.

It shocks no one that the Alchemist is probably the best route for Leander, and I maybe want to say the Hound could possibly be a good option in the future. The Alchemist can pinpoint exactly what about Leander's magic abilities makes him powerful, and obviously, this mutual connection will probably allow for plenty of unique interactions in his route. Sit on the fact that the MC had been mentored (manipulated) by an ex-Senobium mage, only to fall right back into the hands of another (pseudo-Senobium-affiliated) mage with sketchy intentions and big secrets... hmmm interestinggg... As for the Hound, I realize (admittedly upon limited playthroughs with this origin), that the dialogue never really changes for Leander's scenes. However, he is still an enigmatic socialite running a cult-gang, so surely the Hound will have some unique thoughts on Leander in his route and may eventually be able to see through this "nice guy" facade that Vere is so insistent he's parading around with? Just a thought.

As for my thoughts on Vere, I somehow have many and none at the same time. The one I'm pretty certain about is the Alchemist because they have unique dialogue acknowledging that Vere's collar is enchanted. I think the Hound may also work with his route, but I'm only basing that on the unique dialogue after the first encounter with Vere, wondering how he managed to pickpocket them without a sign, tell, or slip-up. The Hound has good social intuition, which is at least somewhat useful in dealing with Vere and his contradictory personality.

Ais comes naturally to the Unnamed, having an abundance of unique lines towards him more than the other characters. Not only does the Unnamed MC feel uneasy and hear unnatural sounds leading up to the Seaspring, but they also are the only one out of the three origins who has a distinct connection to "groupminds". The main character also notes that his tattoo (relating to Ocudeus) almost looks like it's moving. Similarly to Kuras, I like to think of the dynamic between a runaway ex-oracle crossing paths with a demonic being with cult-like worshipers... I predict the Hound will also suit Ais' route, based on how extensive their unique dialogue of Ais' natural leadership skills is. This origin is also the only one that actually details why his "gang leader" status contradicting the lack of an actual gang is so strange. The Hound comes from a more directly rugged life, and Ais takes an interest in the MC being feisty and defiant, so I'd guess that'll come into play somehow.

Back to square one on this whole overexplained talking point, Mhin obviously has some special connection to the Alchemist (or vice versa), if it wasn't obvious by the fact that Mhin's only red choice in the demo so far is only available with the Alchemist background. I think the Alchemist's unique connection to the Senobium through their mentor may come up, as Mhin's bio page says that they like the Senobium. The bio page also says they enjoy conducting alchemical experiments, which will connect the two even more. Once again, I think the Hound will also suit Mhin's route, based on little evidence and mostly just because Mhin and the Hound have similar vibes.

All of that said, I want to reiterate that I'm not under the impression that one origin will give you better or worse endings than the others, but rather unique choices and extra details based on their strengths. Regardless of how well one origin pairs with a LI, I will still probably be playing through each route with my own biased favorite (the Unnamed, if you were curious (I know you were not)). At the end of the day, it allows us to replay the game over and over to see what special changes and choices are available, so that will be very exciting.

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved leander #touchstarved vere #touchstarved ais #touchstarved mhin

208 notes · View notes

kalims · 2 years ago

Text

STEREOTYPICAL IDEALS

˖ ִֶָ here we have the stereotype love interests for every love story.

characters. ace, azul, leona, malleus, idia

content. gender neutral reader, kinda cafe au for idia

cw. mention of.. embryo eggs 😁 it's just malleus being vague about it and us mistaking LOL

note. mc does not like cats at first for the sake of plot :)

thank you for 5K <3 mwa

ace trappola | the resident 'bad boy' troublemaker that everybody dislikes (oh well. those are the ones usually misunderstood anyways)

though severely lacking in the physical quantities of your resident bad boy, (leather jacket, too much gel used for a horrendous slicked back hairstyle, cold demeanor, and the same motorcycle that seems to be present in every variant) you can say that although he fits in the category pretty well the title didn't really suit him.

every professor on campus despises ace trappola and his 'unfunny' pranks (of which they claim so.) you had bear witness to one of them so when he ran out of a classroom and locked eyes with you. you knew you should have ran away in turn because he shoved you in the way of a furious crewel and has the audacity to laugh as he escaped.

(crewel, AKA the scariest professor on campus so you definitely peed your pants a little when you heard the grunt he emitted when you collided into his probably hundred dollar fur coat—and wow, who knew he hid such a broad frame?)

but still. you sulked in misery at the silent room. even though you had told him several times that you, were indeed not an accomplice to that insane red head's crimes crewel did not let you off without a punishment. "had you not been in my way I would have captured that little puppy," he had said.

I didn't know. you cried comical tears at your horrible timing. wrong place in the wrong time. being a new student is hard around this place.

only then was the sky freed from your vengeful glare when a body falls into the room just after the door opens—then closes.

a new object of your hate. you suppose, far more deserving than the sky.

"this freaking sucks," ace trappola had to audacity to complain when you were the one he dragged to his stupid scheme. the moment he saw you heartedly glaring him down from your seat is when he released another groan. great, the person who he sacrificed for the better cause.

yeah that's right this is your fault, you watch him through accusing eyes as he stands up and starts circling the room. carelessly touching the several expensive looking items around the room with no regards; which honestly gave you a heart attack but either you give up the intimidating act or assert your dominance?

easy choice.

finally you scowl, albeit a bit softer than the previous face you adorned. "what in the hell are you doing?" ace looks back at you with a casual grin—the kind of grin that would lead into nowhere good but you and your stupid self engrossed in too much stories (in your opinion but you'd probably pick up another book later on,) paused to register the fleeting sense of attraction.

my teenager hormones always at the wrong time. you deadpan.

ace leans over the counter and gives the window a little push. smiling when the window creaks open with age and the wind brushes over his face. (ooo rhyme.)

you watch him. too entranced for your liking.

"are you coming or not?"

you sputter. "uh, excuse me?"

this time ace looks like he's having fun. (did you miss that kind of face everytime he was in trouble just cause of the adrenaline?) "have you ever left detention without permission?"

the second you took his hand and let him guide you down the third floor was definitely the time you knew you were in trouble.

ㅤ

azul ashengrotto | that one sophisticated, cunning character that's in the 'out of your league' circle (except this one immediately falls over for you)

' to mx.lastname '

' professor crewel has assigned me to foresee your school activities for the period whereas you still are behind his classes. though we haven't met officially I know you. my name is azul ashengrotto. (yes, the scholar. which is why the professor had me tutor the lowest in class) I hope we can come to an understanding during our time together. in the library we will meet after school hours. '

signed.. azul ashengrotto in some fancy font you'd spend forever perfecting.

well you had no idea people in your time that still uses letters as a form or communication still exists. you do see a simple text far more convenient that this thing but whatever he wants you suppose..

should you be happy, sad, or offended by this?

happy because azul ashengrotto is the best, out of the best. and there's no doubt that there's gonna be results when he's the one that's going to be tutoring you. sad because you literally need a tutor—actually it's just happy and offended.

offended because he called you the lowest of the lowest, using it to boost his little ego? you've seen the guy, never met him but that's a little.. strange. you won't jump to conclusions because that's what idiots do.

unfortunately you are an idiot so.

although azul is definitely popular kid material for some odd reason everyone seems to avoid him like the plague when he's around these two.. what's their names again? leech siblings? it isn't any better when he's alone though. you conclude it's just the natural air around him that makes it so hard to approach.

despite the offense you had taken what he said was merely the truth. you were at the bottom of the class right now. (you're just annoyed he never considered the possibility of getting better) plus can't he cut you some slack? it's not like moving to a different school in an entirely different place magically made you knowledgeable about the history of this place.

monday flies by faster than you anticipated and you find yourself standing across the infamous top 1.

azul casts you an easy smile. "how about we get to know each other first? despite us working together.." he pauses. "—quite closely. I'd like to get to know you first." suspiciously, you sit down without much argument. and it's scary because it's like he left no room for it.

he sure has a way with words. you muse. no wonder why he's the best you eventually thought.

you spent a hefty amount of time just conversing with each other. hell, everyone was freaking wrong! there's nothing bad about this dude he's just the normal, rich looking smartie. (attractive, you'd add but you figured he didn't take compliments well when he went silent after you had gave him a positive comment.) <- one that was honestly more like flirting if you'd look back but you refuse to let the embarrassment consume you.

(come on honestly! who even says; "I like your mole, it makes you look very pretty." as a compliment and not assume it was you attempting to rizz up the smartie?)

no one had ever complimented that part of him.

honestly it felt like less tutoring and more like a date because if there's anything you learned it's that azul was pretty.

.. uhm.. pretty smart.. yeah..

there was zero history you learned about NRC but rather the history of azul. his family restaurant and explaining his two friends when you had brought them up. the whole time you were both just all smiley, a little shy but time eased the tension out and you both had conversations you'd never thought you'd have with a stranger.

that day when you said your pleasant goodbyes and turned turned leave azul had offered to atleast walk you home. to which you replied in an easy joke; "sorry I don't let people I meet once take me home."

his eyes glinted. "oh? I had assumed we were well acquainted by now." azul ashengrotto gives you an award winning smile. "my apologies then. have a save trip home."

for once you almost regretted not saying yes from his words alone.

I take it back maybe there is something bad with him? you think back at your old assumption awkwardly.

you end up finding another letter stuck on your door. somehow it feels like the contents inside were vastly different from the first.

' dear mx.lastname '

' I enjoyed our time together yesterday. I apologize for taking up all the time without studying but it's like I could not stop talking with you. ' is he flirting with you right now?

' though our official study sessions will start tomorrow. if you ever find the spare time I'd like continue our conversation elsewhere. '

' of course wherever you think is fit will do nicely with me :) '

sincerely, azul ashengrotto.

... definitely different

ㅤ

leona kingscholar | the brooder that just looks done with everything 99% of the time but will end up having a soft spot for the main lead

coughs maybe leona is the bad boy in this case?

everyone knows leona 'I hate everyone' kingscholar. be it from the missing seat in their class or the clump of brown and yellow passed out in the botanical garden. in your case it was the latter. (you being too engrossed gawking at your phone you literally tripped on something and ungracefully landed on the floor)

you just went through the seven stages of pain cause pardon your language but holy fucking shit you feel like you just broke your jaw.

question is who the hell would carelessly leave something on the floor for an unfortunate soul to trip over? (which is you.) the pain stinging your jaw as an awful reminder of your oblivious nature to your surroundings was already depressing but there lays your phone in the literal lake swimming around pretending it's a fish.

"I hope you got some good explanation as to why you ruined my sleep." a deep voice says, nearly making you shit your pants. you turn and stare fearfully at the dead, annoyed face the newcomer gives you. though the rest of his arms are hidden by the shirt you can tell he wouldn't have much problem pushing you in the lake so you can join your phone.

"listen i—" you wince at the jolt of pain accompanied by your words. you learn quickly that perhaps this isn't the time to speak at all. though the man who is way too mad over an accident doesn't seem to care.

he raises his brow and huffs. "what? do I need to take a tooth for you to talk?" yeah asshole like causing me more pain is gonna make the words come out of my mouth.

you slump. as much as you'd like to defend yourself right now, you honestly have more problems to think about. like how your phone just drowned or how you're gonna have to make a trip to the infirmary.

you do the most rational thing you can do.

you make a series of incoherent sounds, point at your phone in the lake and run a marathon once this fool actually looks over to the end of your finger. sucker. you think smugly.

(should leona exert the energy to catch you right now?) I'll get that one next time. he grunts and lays down, facing towards the sun. leona recalls the name on their ID. (name) lastname)

3-A. he closes his eyes.

in your assigned classroom you sit. your friend grimaces. "what the hell happened to you?" he gestures to the obvious bandage under your chin ending over your head. if the ice pack you held your jaw doesn't give him the confirmation that it's broken then you don't know what does.

you sigh. missing the times where you could reply to this idiot.

the class atmosphere is just like any other you've encountered. surprisingly bright and chatty. all forms of sounds immediately halted once the door creaked open and crewel strutted in. he doesn't cast all of you a glance but you can see the approval when you all fall silent.

"hunt. name all the herbology we studied yesterday." you and your friend both exchange looks of relief. I'm so glad I didn't get picked.

not that you can recite it anyways. your friend snickers. thought they didn't speak you both reached a point in your friendship where you could understand through eye contact. you're so lucky.

be for real I'm literally in so much pain. you roll your eyes

as hunt enthusiastically does so you could hear a faint noise from the door. though in favor of continuing your 'conversation' with your friend you both ignore it.

only then when your friend pauses and gawks behind you do you stop.

"kingscholar. I'm suprised you decided to grace us with your presence." who the hell is kingscholar? a clear thump resounds behind you.

wow almost like if someone sat behind you but that's impossible because the guy behind you is always running his mouth and annoying you in every way possible.

AKA the seat was occupied and dude was already sitting there before you arrived. and if he was really your seatmate for what? months? you'd know that he does not get up at all.

"what the h—" speaking of there he is. why does he sound scared though? you wonder.

you turned and if you could make a sound, (to be more specific a scream of horror right now you would. loud and full of terror) holy fucking shit is that the guy you literally used the oldest trick in the book and ditched?

you aren't even given the opportunity to mask your expression.

malleus draconia | typically mysterious stranger that everyone goes insane over

the one you'll meet 'by chance'. actually the first few times you did meet was a complete coincidence but the following was just malleus knowing where you are and when. hence... he just is there..

in conclusion this dorm was really shitty. you sulk, placing a hand to support your body so you could lean but the quality of it had other plans.

you stare blankly at the piece that just broke off in your hand.

but you suppose you ought to be grateful. you sigh, throwing the piece aside. it's not everyday you get given a home for free. problem is the food though, I don't wanna starve.

let's see. very dusty bed or very dusty couch to retire in? you hum in contemplation. even the grass sounds better. you'd sleep outside if you could but the variety of insects just...

no.

it's has it's charm though. though you'd prefer it with less dust. atleast it's not haunted!

something creaks near you.

nevermind.

you would have screamed very, very loudly if the emerald eyes figure didn't place a finger to his mouth and you consider this.. random person to be very intimidating and it actually scared you to obedience and silence.

he raises a brow at your shell-shocked look. "w-who the fuck are you?!" you croak out.

at your words he seemed quite surprised like HE WASNT THE ONE ON YOUR TECHNICAL FRONT DOOR. "oh? it seems like you don't know me," he chuckles, as though pleased. no shit sherlock you don't know me either you grumble.

he smirks. "I'll leave that up to you to find out then," this bitch.

ever since that you always seem to encounter than random guy everywhere. what surprised you more is the fact that he actually goes to the school you go to, which you admit was a stupid thought cause he was on school grounds when you met him and this school doesn't let random people in.

even with the godly amount of times you both meet he.just.wont.tell.you.his.name. annoying the hell out of you because you can't keep calling him tsunotaro when his green haired dog came close to biting your leg off when you did.

even though you don't ask him to he always seems to be trailing after you wherever you go but you can't really tell since, he scarily does not make a single sound when he's following you. (which is strange because it's always silent when he's there, even in the crowded halls.) it's like someone just flipped a switch!

"isn't this a party? even the music stopped," you frowned.

tsunotaro casts a look at your confused face and shrugs with a smirk. "hm. I wonder why indeed,

he always seems to appear at the most convenient of times. he's honestly saved you many times from a pile of medical bills for accidents which is a relief and an anomaly in itself because that's just.. eerily mysterious.

if a person was involved it's like your luck is always there because you never see them again.

somehow you befriended some short dude who calls himself lilia and likes bats. you assume he knows your friend because he's always dancing thin circles around you practically flaunting his knowledge of your friends true name.

said lilia is the one that assures you that 'nothing came to harm to that person. I heard they're merely on vacation' which is strange cause you never mentioned them being hurt at all.

for a single day you left your usual spot with them in favor of sitting with your friends during lunch and the thunder storm that week was so bad that you had to just pray that the old wooden boards would be able to withstand the water and shelter you.

you watch a piece of your roof fly off into the unkown. "the weather forecast literally said it was gonna be sunny all day," you deadpan.

once his dog had almost came close to saying his name which was a pain because HE SHOT HIM ONE LOOK AND THE BOY IMMEDIATELY SHUT UP. you were literally shaking said dog trying to get his name out of curiosity and anticipation so when you look at tsunotaro with a glare of playful annoyance he actually droops and looks lost

that by the way. is only a fraction of weird stuff that happened after you 'met' malleus. met as in met once then meeting each other so often that you had just allowed him to follow you around and befriend you.

cause. can you blame yourself? he's very adorable in his own right even if your friends insist that he's literally terrifying. <- you deny it to defend tsunotaro cause he's the purest being on the planet! you say as your friends shiver at the figure behind you wearing an ominous smile.

they run away as you trail off. "hey you—! ugh.. what a bunch of assholes," you fume. who even runs off in the middle of a conversation? you wonder in your mind. did they dislike your friend so much that they'd run away? but you don't get it! you've been telling them how good your friend is and how wrong they are.

you scratch your head.

a voice clears their throat behind you as you blink then perk up.

when you turn tsunotaro is there in all his glory. dorned in the most simple school clothing yet looking so elegant, don't forget his pitch perfect posture. wow.. it's almost like he's a regal royal haha.. but that can't be right haha..

he looks.. upset.

you frown. "what's with the face?"

he tilts his head. "what face? I've always had my face since I was an egg,"

what. you blank. one thing about your friend was that he had weird.. vocabulary, you've heard it plenty of times but it doesn't make new ones less surprising to hear. as in embryo eggs? you grimace. again, weird.

you choose to ignore his response.

"you look sad," you clarify.

ah. very observant. he thinks. tsunotaro hums in contemplation. "you seemed upset with me earlier, naturally I got upset since you were. I just.. don't want our.. friendship—" his face shifts a little at the mention of friendship. "—to change after you know who I truly am,"

aw. your eyes soften. "tsunotaro.. I won't judge you it's alright, to be honest I don't really know anyone here and even if I did know you I would always find you and befriend you," you say firmly as his green eyes seems to be sparkling as he takes in your words.

it's settled then.

a calm period of silence crosses over the two of you. perhaps it's the relief knowing that he had finally expressed his reasoning. it's not that often you both talk in an emotional degree like this seeing as tsunotaro doesn't seem to have anything he kept from you.

even if he did you reckon he'd tell you pretty quickly.

"malleus.. draconia,"

"excuse me?" you blink.

he looks at your eyes deeply. searching them inch to inch making sure he takes in every feature of your face. he looks at you so seriously that it honestly makes your heart skip a little beat. "it is.. my name, you can call me what you'd like—" as though a curtain is being drawn right before your eyes. "—please do not let this change anything," he makes sure to add.

but there is no frightened yell over his name or the fearful eyes latched on his figure during everything he does.

but the welcoming warmth that the cold is too unlucky to not have.

there is only the eyes that is so blissfully ignorant. because beauty is in the eye of the beholder and you look at him like he's.. someone and no one at the same time.

malleus is not sure if he's happy that you are so unknownst to the perspective of others. they have a point, everything he's tied to demands intimidation. so even if you don't understand the significance of his name you take in every one of his imperfections and accept him wholly.

malleus would cut out not even a piece of his heart but just hand it to you on a silver platter cause that's you already have. though not his eyes, arms, or legs it's him. his heart is his whole and you have it.

your eyes crinkle. "how about mal?"

idia shroud | introvert cat lover, stranger danger aka hitoshi shinso 2.0 but more shy

that guy by the cat cafe is pretty weird.

besides the blue bundle on his head—that you refuse to call hair because hair has strands and by the blue, wavy flames framing his head there's obviously none on his head right now.

maybe that's what had gotten you stealing glances from across another table despite the research paper draft on your laptop that hasn't been changed for the past five minutes. you like to tell yourself that the only reason you're staring is because he's.. peculiar.

yeah nothing else!

since last month, where you started claiming a particular spot in the cat cafe. (not a normal one because you have something similar on your bucket list that includes getting buried by cats) you've never not seen flame boy over there in the cafe.

judging by his usual spot in the far corner where he thinks no one sees him this guy does not have a life but fuck that cause so do you.

life update: that bucket list goal is not gonna get achieved anytime soon cause you can't help but grimace away from the cats. you don't blame yourself cause since you got chased by a cat and proceeded to get beat up by it you steered clear from them.

and you can't literally dislike cats forever cause they're like.. a very common animal to see in the world and your delusional mind thinks that this silly little opinion will get you killed.

spoiler alert! it did not get you killed but it did get you working in the cafe temporarily since you literally forgot your wallet, therefore you can't pay for what you just ate. (which they would've let you off cause you're practically a regular now but somehow you narrowly avoiding a kitten made you bump into a vase) so.. yeah.. temporarily.. for a week atleast cause the vase was pretty costly and you're lucky theh let you off without a fee.

but labor instead sighs.

your temporary manager points to a table.

okay so maybe this will prove a little useful. you just want to get to know this dude for.. blackmail purposes.. nothing else.

"hi um—strawberry shortcake for idia?" you place the order in the counter carefully. raising your voice a pitch to let it reach the farthest table. you already knew that the flame boy is gonna come get it since it's hid order but you still hide your suprise when he does.

neither does he. in his very pretty, yellow eyes flashes recognition but it vanishes as he lowers his eyes. as though, nervous. "that's for me," he says quietly. bowing his head and muttering a quick thank you. before you know it he's already gone back to his abode full of kittens leaving you a little flabbergasted at his voice.

so idia was his name. what a pretty name.

the next day idia orders the same thing and with explicit permission you ask the temporary manager if they'd let you deliver it to his table personally (you lowkey felt bad for using their menory to convince them but you're on a mission here!)

"hi," you greet with a small smile. the boy avoids your eyes and instead focuses on the cup of coffee jelly beside his plate of shortcake. "uh—here's your order. I hope you don't mind, idia right?" he nods mutely as you slide the two dishes to him. little force so it won't slide off completely.

"I didn't order that—" he glances at your chest quickly, scanning your borrowed uniform for a sign of a name tag. you smile. "(name),"

"—(name)," he repeats slowly. internally panicking in his mine cause one. he knows you! somehow you're now working in the cafe and two, was this a game master ploy to assassinate him?

you glance at the coffee jelly. "it's complementary," complementary your ass you bought that with your own cash but he doesn't need to know that.

at some point you rushed through the paper to apply for the cafe part-time job just because you had enjoyed the time you served under idia. cause it gave you all the well I've to communicate with him since both of you are way. too awkward to do it normally.

it was a grueling two weeks of you waiting to get accepted and for once you felt accomplished when you received an email. wanna know the first thing you did? go straight to idia's table a few minutes after he arrives and slide him a coffee jelly.

a contrast to his wary expression his face visibly relaxes—and even brightens at your face. (beautiful, beautiful face.) "I'm back," you huff proudly, hugging your own clipboard to your chest and pointing at your personal name tag. "welcome back loser," idia snickers.

during the time you were giving him orders before you had managed to sneak a couple of words for conversation and boy did you learn a lot. to be honest those conversations was the reason you squeezed enough time in your schedule for this job. at some point you're convinced idia enjoyed it as much as you did because he even shyly asked if you played any games and had twstcord.

suprise suprise. idia was a freaking nerd and had.. weird humorous words. (in a joking, good way,) ever since you both exchanged info it was basically never sleeping in favor of talking 25/8. you like to say you were both exceptionally close and reached a peak in your relationship.

did you mention that idia had taught you the way of the cat?

—

"what if they tear my eyes off?" you worry as idia forcefully gets you to lay on the grass with a small grunt. he deadpans at your words. "chill out. I'm a level 99 cat whisperer I got this," as you said. weird humor and words. still. it's reassuring enough.

then he just stands up to scoop up the cats he can find and pours them on you. giving you a heart attack everytime one leaves and he just yanks them back. you realize—"this.. this is heaven, I'm in heaven," you breathe out.

idia looks at you then pauses. oddly looking like the same the first time you've seen him. he grows quiet. ".. y-yeah,"

—

"BTW where's the complimentary jelly?"

"there's none today. I'm freaking broke,"

"WDYM.. that has nothing to do with it cause it's complementary,"

"..."

(idia thinks the person in the cat cafe is weird.

in a good way he supposes.) but who is he to judge when said person just.. turned into someone he'd consider a player two?

note. umm just pretend that we get a broken jaw like that because it's for the sake of the plot LOL

send help it's like almost 1 in the morning and I just wrote for the whole period of midnight

not proofread

ko-fi

2K notes · View notes