#but i remembered one of the comments in the tags under my previous work - about the ''sensation of a candlelight''

[chadobi]

Okay, I’ve recently been in the mood to write something about 2012 Leo, so I hope you enjoy it! I’d also like to apologize for the number of tags in my previous posts, etc. I’m still learning how Tumblr works, so thank you for pointing it out, and I hope it’s all good now! Either way, happy reading!

“Letters Never Sent”

TMNT 2012 Leonardo x Reader

You never meant to find the box.

Really, you didn’t. You had just come by the lair to return Donnie’s tablet and maybe hang around long enough to catch Leo before patrol. It wasn’t like you planned to snoop. But when Donnie told you Leo was already out and that your missing notebook wasn’t in the lab, you figured—just maybe—it had ended up in Leo’s room.

The notebook was important. It had your training notes in it, doodles, even a few snippets of poetry you’d never admit to writing out loud. But mostly, it had Leo’s handwriting in the margins—small corrections, comments, thoughts from your shared training sessions. That made it special.

His room was tidy, of course. Not obsessively clean, but well-kept in that disciplined way that just was Leo. Sword racks on the walls. A few cracked comics under his bed. A blue blanket thrown over a floor cushion that doubled as a reading spot. The air smelled like old books, tea, and faintly of whatever incense Master Splinter had lit earlier that evening.

You were just about to give up when your hand brushed something behind a stack of old comic volumes on the shelf. A cardboard box—plain and unassuming—worn around the corners, like it had been opened and closed more times than it should have. You shifted it toward the light, blinking at the neat label stuck to the top:

To Y/N — letters never sent

Your chest constricted.

There was something achingly intimate about it, like finding someone’s diary with your name on the first page.

You hesitated.

Then you sat down on the edge of his bed and opened the box.

Inside were layers of folded paper—some crisp, some worn thin like they’d been read over and over. Napkins, corners of pizza boxes, torn notebook pages. One had a coffee ring stain on it. Another was sealed with blue painter’s tape. At the very bottom, there was a tiny origami turtle with your name carefully inked on its shell in looping, delicate script.

You stared. Then slowly, reverently, picked up the first letter and unfolded it.

Dear Y/N,

Mikey made a dumb joke again tonight—said Donnie should get a PhD in “Mutant Mayhem Management.”

Everyone laughed.

You laughed too.

I don’t think you noticed, but when you laugh, your nose scrunches slightly. Not in a bad way. In a way that makes it impossible to look away.

I laughed too, but not at the joke.

I was laughing because you were laughing. Because your happiness makes me feel like maybe the world’s not so broken.

— Leo

You swallowed hard.

This wasn’t just a silly crush. These weren’t random musings. These were confessions—tiny glimpses of thoughts he’d never shared, pieces of a quiet heart too cautious to speak them aloud.

Your fingers moved to the next one without even thinking.

Y/N,

We were on the roof last night. Do you remember? The wind was colder than usual. You asked if I was okay. I said I was fine.

I lied.

I’m not okay. I’m scared. I’ve fought mutants, robots, aliens… but this is scarier.

Because I think I’m falling for you, and I don’t know how to say it.

I’ve always been the leader. The protector. The strategist.

But around you… I just want to be Leo.

— Leonardo

You felt something warm and sharp and real press against your ribs. A ache, but not a painful one. You could almost hear his voice in the words—stiff, deliberate, like he had to wrestle each letter down on paper.

The next few letters spilled out more of the same: thoughts, memories, little daydreams. He noticed everything about you, from the way your hands moved when you spoke passionately, to how you always stood a little closer to him when the city felt unsafe. He wrote about the first time he saw you cry. About how he wished he knew what to say when you did. About how he practiced telling you how he felt but never got past “hey” before chickening out.

Some of them were funny. One was an apology for nearly knocking you over during sparring. One was a list of reasons why he wasn’t going to give you a letter, followed by a reason that simply said:

“Because you deserve someone better than me.”

That one made your throat tighten the most.

You didn’t hear the door open.

“Y/N?”

You froze.

Leonardo stood in the doorway—gear still on from patrol, blades strapped to his shell, blue mask untied and trailing behind his neck. His eyes went from you, to the box, and then to the open letters scattered across his bed like his heart had been spilled out in paper form.

His entire face went pale.

“I—” he stammered, voice cracking. “What are you doing?”

You looked up, eyes wide, caught in a mix of guilt and heartbreak. “I didn’t mean to. I was just looking for my notebook. Then I saw my name.”

Leo stepped forward slightly, then stopped like the floor might break beneath him. “You weren’t supposed to read those.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of one of the letters.

“Leo… these are beautiful.”

His mouth opened. Then closed. He looked away, jaw clenched.

“I was gonna throw them out,” he mumbled. “They were stupid.”

“They’re not.” You stood slowly, holding one of the letters like it might fall apart. “They’re… honest. They’re you. Why would you hide this from me?”

He gave a weak, humorless laugh. “Because I’m not good at this. I’m not like Mikey, or Raph, who can just… say things. I’m quiet. I freeze up. I overthink. I thought maybe if I wrote it down, I could get it out of my system.”

You stepped closer. “And did you?”

He looked at you. Really looked. And for the first time, his voice softened into something fragile.

“No. It just made me love you more.”

The world fell still.

Your chest rose with a trembling breath. Then you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out something small—creased, folded, worn with time.

A note.

You placed it in his hand. “Then you should probably read this.”

Leo unfolded the paper carefully, fingers trembling.

I think I love the way he carries the world like it’s nothing.

I think I love the way he speaks like silence is holy.

I think I love him.

But I’m scared he’ll never feel the same.

His hands dropped to his sides, eyes never leaving yours.

“You wrote this?”

You nodded.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Then slowly—awkwardly, cautiously—he reached for your hand. His was calloused, rough from years of training, but warm and steady.

“You mean it?” he asked softly.

“I do.”

His voice cracked again. “Then I’m really going to kiss you.”

You blinked. “Okay.”

It wasn’t perfect. Your noses bumped a little. His hand hesitated at your waist, unsure if it belonged there. But when his lips touched yours—soft, gentle, reverent—it was everything you’d imagined in the lines of those letters and more.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were scarlet. “That wasn’t too weird, was it?”

You smiled and rested your forehead against his. “No. It was you.”

_____________

Later that night, the box remained on his bed—still open, no longer a secret.

You lay together under his blanket, side-by-side, fingers intertwined as you read every letter together. He buried his face in your shoulder each time you teased him, and you kissed the tips of his fingers each time he got flustered.

Some letters made you laugh. Some made you cry. All of them made you love him more.

Eventually, you held the final one in your lap, the tiniest origami turtle of them all.

“What was this one for?” you asked, lifting it gently.

Leo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was going to be the one I gave you… if I ever got brave enough.”

You smiled.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you whispered, leaning in.

“Why?”

“Because now I get to hear it from you.”

And he did. In whispers. In kisses. In quiet, unspoken promises sealed not with ink, but with arms around each other, breathing the same soft rhythm into the night.

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part ten: domestic

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: things in the apartment have become a little more comfortable

wc: 5.5k

tags: slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance

etc: so sorry this took longer to post than usual! i should take the time to let you all know that updates are sporadic as this is something i do in my free time! i’m so happy you all received this series well and are enjoying it! lots of love, liebchens, and as always, this is not proofread!

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You don’t even remember when it started, when the evenings started to stretch and melt into one another. 

It’s quiet tonight, but it’s not silent. The soft clicking of San’s controller fills the living room in a little rhythm, broken by the occasional shout from the voice chat playing through on the television screen. You’re curled up into the left side of the couch, legs tucked under you, laptop open but practically untouched from the past hour. The document sits there half-finished on your screen, you’ve typed and deleted the same sentence at least six times now. 

San’s on your right, his back resting against the arm of the couch, one leg bent whilst the other stretches along the cushions, his leg nearly brushing yours. His hair’s a little messy, damp at the ends from a shower earlier, and his expression is so focused. His eyebrows are furrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. There’s a hoodie sleeve pushed halfway up his arm and his controller rests comfortably in his hand as he moves through the game. He’s mid match as you glance up at the screen, some brightly lit map you couldn’t even tell the name of if you tried.

It should annoy you. It should annoy you how immersed he is in it. But it doesn’t. Not tonight. 

He’s losing his match. And he’s clearly not very happy about it. 

He huffs through his nose, leans forward, then back into the armrest again. “What is this idiot doing,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to be able to register it. 

You stretch your legs a little, shifting in your seat. The cushion dips slightly where his thigh finally slips close to yours. You hide a small smile, dragging your cursor across your document again. You’re not even pretending to work anymore. Your paper is an end of semester reflection due this upcoming week. Every time you start typing, your eyes drift toward the game. Or toward him. You’re not even watching the screen so much as watching him. The way his brows twitch. How he exhales sharply whenever he dies. How he leans forward when the stats start getting tighter. It’s kind of endearing. 

You’d never say that aloud though. Never. 

“Why are you making that face?” San asks suddenly, not even taking his eyes off the screen.

You blink. “What face?”

“That face,” he says, still focused on the game. “Like you’re actively judging me.”

“Maybe I am.”

He scoffs and then returns back to his game. Letting out a string of curses as his character dies on screen again. You hear the other players shouting at him as he continues to mash the buttons on his controller. 

“You good over there?” you ask lightly. 

He doesn’t look away from the screen. “Peachy.”

You stifle a laugh. “Want me to backseat again? I can tell you what you’re doing wrong. Just say the word.”

“God, no.” The slants a quick glance at you. “You don’t even know what’s happening.”

“I don’t need to,” you reply, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “You keep playing the same map over again. You just threw… a smoke? And got knifed by someone behind you.” 

San groans. “I really don’t need a commentator, thanks.”

You hum, tapping a key idly on your laptop. “Seems like you might actually.”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you, narrowing his eyes. “Think you can do better?”

You lift your brows. “Is that a challenge?”

San sets the controller down in your lap before you can argue. “Here. Prove it. You won’t last five seconds.”

Your mouth opens, then shuts again as you tilt your head. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he says, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Come on, superstar. Show me.”

With a theatrical sigh, you shift your laptop to the side, shuffling to be positioned even closer to him now, and pick up the controller. The second you enter the match, you’re overwhelmed. Your character spawns in, and within seconds, you’re already taking fall damage from jumping off something you weren’t supposed to. You wince as the screen flashes at you. 

“Okay, that was on purpose,” you mumble. 

“You lost almost all your health just from falling, Y/N.”

“I was just looking around.”

“We’re in a match.”

A beat later, a single bullet from the corner takes you out. You frown at the screen, scowling. 

“No. This is rigged,” you mutter, brows scrunching in concentration. 

“Sure, sure,” he says, nudging your shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You last another three minutes before tossing the controller back into his lap with a dramatic groan. “I hate this stupid game.”

He’s still grinning when he takes it back. “It’s okay. Not everyone’s built for it.” 

“Whatever,” you mutter as you stand, stretching your arms over your head. “I’m going to the kitchen for food.”

“What are you making?” he asks, already half-distracted, fingers flying over the buttons again. 

You shrug as you walk behind the couch. “I dunno. Fried rice, maybe.”

You move into the kitchen, tugging open the fridge and collecting what you can—leftover rice from the night before, an egg, and some sad-looking vegetables that need to be used sooner rather than later. San’s still back on the couch, but you can feel a set of eyes follow you briefly as you shuffle around. 

You’re mid-stir when you reach over the burner without thinking. Just a quick reach, barely a stretch, but the heat is too close. It’s nothing bad, but you can still feel it. You flinch as the edge of your wrist catches a sting of warmth. 

“Ow—fuck.”

San’s already halfway out of his seat. “Seriously?” He rounds the corner. “What’d I say about being so clumsy?”

You shoot him a glare, cradling your wrist. “It’s fine. It’s barely anything.”

“Yeah, that’s how it starts,” he mutters, reaching past you to turn the heat down slightly. “Gonna end up burning down the apartment complex.”

“Don’t give me ideas, maybe I’ll do it on purpose.”

He tosses you a look over his shoulder as he takes the spatula. The sizzling oil starts to quiet, and he’s moving around like it’s nothing. You catch him glance toward the kettle, and moment later, he fills it with water and sets it to what. You notice, but don’t say anything. He’s just focused now. 

“I forgot you can actually cook,” you say, sliding next to him at the stove, reaching around to grab the salt. 

There’s a few moments of silence as he lets out a small hum and continues to work around. You take the time to grab plates, glasses, and utensils.

The kettle clicks off, and you see a mug appear on the counter beside you. You don’t think much of it at first. You rinse off the dishes from earlier while he keeps cooking, the two of you working on your tasks in silence. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve had a night like this. A week ago, you’d fallen asleep on the couch while he was playing. You hadn’t meant to, but you woke up with a blanket over your legs and your head tilted against his shoulder. He hadn’t mentioned it. Neither had you. 

Another night, you made grilled cheese, and he insisted on making tomato soup. You didn’t fight him on it. He didn’t comment when you added more seasoning than he would have. You were both just coexisting. 

You finish drying your hands and glance toward the counter. The tea is there, steam curling from the rim of the mug, almost golden tinted in the faint kitchen light. You didn’t make it. You didn’t even see what kind it was. 

You take a sip. Honey citron. 

You blink down at the cup, lips parting in surprise. It tasted as good as Seonghwa had said earlier. You assume this was from the box you found not too long ago when rummaging through the pantry for snacks. 

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But you sip again, slower this time, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. 

“Food’s ready,” he says, plating two portions and sliding them across the counter. 

You take a seat at the kitchen island, sliding onto the left barstool as he settles beside you on the right. He’s close, his shoulder brushes yours when he shifts his plate. 

It’s not tense. Not weird. Just comfortable. 

“Pretty good,” you say after the first bite. 

San hums at your comment. “I know.”

“You’re unbearable.”

“And yet, you’re still here.”

You glance over at him, smiling against your will. He’s already watching you, elbow on the counter, twirling the utensil lazily in his hand. You continue your conversation. Mostly commentary on the rice and a few other jabs at each other. 

After you eat, he stands to clear the plates and you go to help, grabbing the sponge and running the water. 

“I got it,” he says. 

You wave him off. “I’m already here.”

San lets you scrub while he dries. He doesn’t say anything when your arms bump or your elbows brush. It’s almost automatic, the way you pass the dishes off without needing to speak, the way he catches the ones you rinse before they even hit the drying rack. 

“You feeling okay?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re being weirdly helpful.”

He shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You look at him a little more intently now. “You’re plotting something.”

He smirks at you. “Always.”

You finish the last dish and rinse your hands, drying them quickly. San’s still there, hovering near the sink. You place the towel down and lean against the counter beside him, not quite looking at him yet. 

“You’re not gonna mention the tea?”

San blinks. “What?”

You nod toward the mug. “The new honey citron tea.”

He shrugs again. “Ah. Didn’t think I needed to.”

You glance at him. “I mean, you bought it.”

“Yeah.”

You nod once, then look away again. It’s silent for a long beat. You think maybe that’s the end of it, that neither of you will say more. 

But then San murmurs, “You looked like you needed it.”

You freeze fingers curling around the edge of the counter. When you finally glance back up at him, he’s already looking away, reaching for the dish towel you just used to dry his hands. 

You don’t say anything else. You don’t need to.

A few seconds later, he brushes past you quietly, back to the couch, to his game. He doesn’t say another word. 

You’re still thinking about the tea. How good it is. How right Seonghwa was.

You settle on the floor with a heavy sigh, pulling your laptop and notebook in front of you just like you’ve done at least a hundred times before with this paper. The carpet is cool underneath your legs as you cross them. The blanket you’d been curled up in earlier is still bunched on the couch behind you, forgotten as you’re now fixed on sitting on the ground. Somehow, you need this, you need the distance from comfort to focus on this. To lock in.

San’s switched from his game to a show, the volume is switched down, and you can barely hear it, the subtitles flickering across the screen. He’s quiet now, settled back into the corner of the couch with a knee up, phone in hand but mostly idle. You haven’t said much since you sat down, and neither has he. It’s not awkward. Just quiet. 

You open your laptop and blink at the mostly empty page. You type a few words. Delete them. Start again. Only to tap the backspace button once more. Your notebook sits open beside you, a few ideas scribbled along the lines, but nothing’s clicking. You can feel it, the deadline is breathing down your neck, your brain shutting off the closer it gets. 

Ten, fifteen minutes pass like this. Then you sigh, a sharp exhale that deflates your chest. 

Behind you, San speaks. “Is this what academic death looks like?”

You don’t turn around, you just throw up a hand and wave him off. “Don’t start with me.”

You hear the faint smile in his tone as he hums back at you. 

You try again. A few more sentences. Another failed paragraph. And it’s all starting to swirl together. You rub at your eyes, trying to stop the frustration from welling up too fast. 

“Want help?” he offers, casually. 

You blink, then glance over your shoulder. “You?”

He raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely. “I’m capable of making thoughts.”

You shake your head but shift your laptop slightly so he can see the screen. “Be my guest.”

You feel the couch shift as he leans forward, bracing himself on one arm, chin hovering just behind you, scanning the screen. His proximity warms your back. 

He hums softly again, tilting his head. “Starting with a quote? I guess that’s one way to do it.”

“It’s relevant.”

“It’s pretentious,” he counters, voice dry, there’s no bite.

You elbow his leg. “Okay, professor.”

His voice quiets. He leans back again, still reading, but he stops making snide comments. And for a while, he’s just there, reading, glancing between your screen and notebook. You go still, fingers tapping nervously on your thigh. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel there’s a shift in him, it’s when you started getting more tense.  The way your posture has folded in, like you’re trying to curl away from the pressure. 

Then the blanket slips down from the couch behind you. 

You blink, startled as it drapes over your shoulder from above, it’s warm and comforting. You glance up, only to find San resettling behind you again, quieter this time. 

He folds himself back onto the couch, one leg tucked under him, the other bent up beside your right shoulder. His leg rests close, almost too close, like it’s fixing him to the floor without quite touching you. You feel his presence radiate at your back. 

Your chest tightens. It’s a small gesture, and yet you feel your body react before your mind can catch up. Why does the blanket feel heavier now that he’s the one who put it on you? And then his hand is there still, his palm is resting over the blanket on your right shoulder. At first, it’s just the weight of it. But then his fingers start to move, tracing lazy, shapeless patterns through the thick fabric. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you. His touch is quiet and rhythmic, like he’s drawing something only he understands. 

It’s not fair. Not fair at all how much you notice him. The way his fingers trail without any purpose, the heat is seeping through despite the barrier of fabric. It’s like every inch of your skin under his hand has become a live wire. He’s not even trying and yet, it still makes your thoughts scatter. 

You don’t realize your eyes have shut until the motion stops. You blink them open, glancing up just as he reaches for something on the table to your left. Your tea. 

He passes it over without a word, and your fingers wrap around the warmth instinctively. It feels heavier now, like you’re more aware of the sensation. The tea is still warm when you take a sip. 

His hand returns to your shoulder, settling there again like it never even left.

You shouldn’t like this as much as you do. You shouldn’t feel like this. 

You exhale slowly. Your pulse has calmed, but something about the moment feels suspended in time, like the seconds have come to a halt. 

Then, just as you shift to reach for your notebook again, San leans forward slightly. His voice comes quietly, right near your ear, almost brushing against your skin. 

“You’ve got it.”

You still. 

The mug in your hand doesn't rise. Your fingers go a little slack. The words wrap around your spine like a string pulled tight. You’ve never heard him say something like that. Not like that. Not to you. Not so close. 

You don’t respond right away, and he doesn’t press for it. Instead he stays there. Warm and present. His hand stays exactly where it is, slowly moving now in small strokes along the curve of your shoulder blade. 

You close your eyes again. Just for a second. Just to feel this. 

You let yourself lean back just slightly, not enough to rest on him, not really. But enough for him to know you’re still there, still waiting. 

The door clicks open, and you barely register it at first, too absorbed in the steady rhythm of your hands as you stir something simmering on the stove. But then, the familiar voice of Seonghwa cuts through your space, drawing your attention immediately. 

“Smells good in here.”

You turn just in time to see him step inside, his smile already wide as he takes off his shoes and steps into the apartment. You’re still stirring the dish on the stove. It’s almost done, the creamy tteokbokki bubbling just right, and the dumplings sizzling in the pan. You smile as Seonghwa steps further inside, the sight of him bringing a quick surge of fondness. “Hey,” you greet, setting the spoon aside to walk over to him. The space between you is closing, and without even thinking, you pull him into a tight hug.

“Didn’t think I’d be walking into something this good,” Seonghwa chuckles, his arms wrapping around you. You chuckle, it’s easy and familiar, and you let your body relax against him. It’s been a while since you’ve had the chance to just hang out like this, and you didn’t realize how much you’d missed it until now. 

“Missed you, Hwa,” you say, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, the comfort of his just being here easing into the quiet of the evening. 

“I missed you too,” he replies easily, his voice bright, though he’s already walking toward the kitchen, the scent of dinner catching his attention. “It’s been too long.”

Seonghwa moves to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair as he glances over the counter. His eyes settle on the bubbling tteokbokki, the crispy dumplings still cracking in the pan. You step back to the stove, your fingers grazing over the edge of the pan, the warmth from the heat seeping through your fingertips. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he moves around the kitchen, clearly appreciating the smells that fill the room. You return to your dish, absentmindedly reaching across the stove to grab the dirty dish you had left to clean, but before you can grab it, San’s hand catches your wrist, pulling it back gently.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that anymore?” His voice is soft but firm, there’s concern buried in his words.

You blink, a little flustered, especially in front of Seonghwa, but laugh as you tug your wrist free from his grasp. “I’m fine, San. I wasn’t even that close.”

He narrows his eyes at you, giving a small shake of his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna end up burning yourself. You’re so clumsy.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but smiling anyway, knowing he’s probably right. “You’re dramatic,” you tease lightly, picking up your tea and taking a sip. It's your second of the evening, just like the one he made for you earlier. You don’t acknowledge it, not aloud at least. Neither does San. But Seonghwa notices.

He’s quiet for a moment as his eyes flicker between you and San, a thoughtful look on his face, but neither of you are looking his way. His gaze shifts back to the food, breaking the brief tension. “It’s been a while since I’ve walked into this kind of domesticity,” he says, his voice light and teasing.

San doesn’t even flinch at the observation, though you do notice a subtle shift in his posture, his fingers flexing ever so slightly on the spoon in his hand as he stirs the pan. You try not to pay too much attention to the small things, how you and San have moved through the kitchen together, there’s ease in the way you anticipate his actions. It’s just comfortable. 

Seonghwa steps closer to the counter, eyes lingering for a moment longer before he grabs a glass from the cupboard. “So, what are we making?” he asks, trying to sound casual, but his gaze doesn’t stray too far from you and San.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you reply, setting the sponge down as you turn to plate the food. “You can help me set the table if you want.”

Seonghwa takes a deep breath and does as you say, moving toward the small dining area with a few plates and glasses. “Smells amazing,” he mutters, glancing toward San, who’s still focused on the stove. You can feel the small shifts between them, Seonghwa’s keeping tabs on every little thing, so it seems.

It’s easy. Too easy. But it’s also something Seonghwa has been picking up on, and you pretty much know it. The quick glances, the way you move in sync without a word. It’s something neither you nor San acknowledges. 

You finish plating the food and set it on the table, Seonghwa already filling his glass with water. There’s a quietness between the three of you as you take your seats. Seonghwa is directly across from you, and San is to your left. The conversation flows easily between you. 

“So,” Seonghwa starts, glancing between the two of you, “You guys cook together often?”

You freeze briefly, then brush it off with a light laugh. “More often than I’d like to admit.”

San chuckles, but there’s a subtle shift in the air again, something in how he doesn’t look at you when he responds, something you can’t quite place. “We get by.”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow at the casualness, his gaze flicking down to his food. There’s no comment, not yet. 

Dinner continues, and Seonghwa tells you stories from his week, little anecdotes about classes, but you let yourself drift away from the conversation for a moment. Letting yourself feel the shift in the air, the shift you can’t quite put into words. And Seonghwa seems to catch it. 

“I gotta say,” Seonghwa finally speaks up again, his voice light but his words sharp, “You two are weirdly in sync tonight.”

You freeze for half a second, before brushing it off with a half-hearted laugh. “What does that even mean?”

San shifts in his seat, making direct eye contact with Seonghwa, and his fingers tap lightly against the table. “Nothing. Just… dinner. Relax.”

But Seonghwa’s eyes are still on you both, and you know he’s watching for something. His gaze flits back and forth. He doesn’t push it any further though. The rest of dinner passes with light banter, but there’s an awareness between him and San, even as Seonghwa continues his stories. 

As you finish, the dishes are cleared and the living room starts to invite you over. The three of you make your way over, and you flick on the television. 

The game on the screen hums softly in the background, the flickering world of your game providing a light, easy distraction. You sit on the floor, comfortably nestled between Seonghwa’s legs, the soft cushions of the couch pressed against your back. It’s one of those moments that feels effortless, and you let yourself sink into it without as much of a second thought. 

Seonghwa sits behind you, his fingers moving through your hair slowly, absently, as if it’s second nature to him. You lean back just enough to feel his warmth, letting your head lay against his knee, the soft pull of your hair as he braids a few strands, all while his eyes remain on the screen. There’s a gentle rhythm in his actions, it’s soothing, like there’s no words needed between you two. His attention is split between the game and the little affection he’s showing you, and you let yourself be. 

Occasionally, Seonghwa offers you little tips on the game, but it’s more out of habit than anything else. “Careful there,” he says lightly, his voice just a soft murmur above your head. “You’re about to fall into a hole,” he says as he tugs a little harder on your hair out of shared nerves. You chuckle, moving your character just in time, and he smiles down at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling. 

San, however, sits across from him on the couch. He’s a little more distant physically, his body leaned back against the armrest with one leg draped across the cushions. Despite his relaxed posture, there’s something about the way his eyes flicker toward you every now and again when he thinks you don’t notice. He’s quiet, absorbed in his own thoughts, but his gaze never strays too far from you. You can feel him watching, even when you aren’t looking at him directly. 

Every so often, you glance up at him. His jaw is slightly clenched, his thumb tapping against the edge of his phone, but his eyes flicker between the game on the screen and you. There’s something unreadable again, in the way his eyes meet yours for a second before darting away, and you can’t help but wonder what’s got him like this. 

You’re so caught up in the game, the banter with Seonghwa, that you don’t notice how your body gradually shifted even closer to him. At first you're just comfortable between his legs, playing the game, laughing at the graphics, but eventually you lean back further into him. It’s small, something like second nature, and you’re not sure when it happens, but now you're pressed fully against his leg. It feels like you could stay here for a while. 

But then, the silence is broken by San’s voice.

“Are you trying to make another trip to the chiropractor down there?” He calls out, glancing over at you from his spot on the couch. “Remember last week when we were working on your paper? You complained for days after. There’s room on the couch, you know?”

You blink at him, caught off guard for a second. You hadn’t really thought about moving, but San nudges his leg lightly in your direction, like a subtle invitation. 

“Come on, the couch isn’t too crowded up here,” he teases, the smirk in his voice clear even though he’s not looking at you directly now. 

You chuckle, glancing up at Seonghwa for a moment. “I’m fine here,” you say, half-defensive, but there’s no real conviction behind it.

Seonghwa smiles down at you, his eyes crinkle for a moment before he lets his fingers untangle from your hair. “San’s right, there’s plenty of room with us.”

So, you don’t fight it, though part of you wishes you could ignore the way San’s voice was the pulling force at you. You push yourself upright, making space for yourself on the couch, unsure of where exactly to settle. You end up sitting between them, but noticeably closer to San. You're not sure why, but your body seems to naturally gravitate toward his cushion. You let yourself lean toward him almost unconsciously, his presence familiar more so these past few days, you don't even realize how much until your shoulder brushes against his arm.

It’s not an awkward thing, just easy. You’ve been around each other like this more and more lately, and for once, it feels a little comfortable. His warmth and the light sound of his breath next to you, it all fits around you well. There’s no second-guessing as you settle into him, letting yourself lean slightly against him as you turn yourself to face Seonghwa. 

San doesn’t say anything at first, but his body shifts slightly, his knee brushing against yours, a touch so soft it might as well be accidental. You glance up at him, and he’s still focused on Seonghwa, but now he’s more turned toward the conversation too, his body angled in a way that mirrors yours. You find your back resting against his chest now, almost without realizing how you got there. You tell yourself you’re not noticing the heat from his side, but you absolutely are. 

As you talk with Seonghwa, your attention shifts between him and San, and you don’t even realize how much you’re leaning into San now. You feel the slight shift of his weight beside you, the way his body seems to almost instinctively adjust to give you more room. His arm just barely brushing yours, you’ve already found a rhythm in your movements. Not entirely aware that your body is more pressed against his side now, the curve of your shoulder resting against his ribcage. 

His warmth feels solid, you feel… safe. You laugh softly at something Segonwha says, your head tilting back just slightly, resting against San a little, your loosely braided hair falling to one side. His breathing is steady, and you can’t help but notice the way his chest rises and falls beneath you, each exhale something you let yourself fall against. 

Seonghwa, ever the observer, catches the shift, but he doesn’t comment on it. Just a fleeting glance from him to San, before he dives back into the conversation.

As the evening is winding down. The air is now quieter, as if everyone is letting the night unfold. The lights seem to be getting darker, and the television hums in the background, but you can feel Seonghwa’s departure looming. 

Seonghwa stretches, his eyes flicking toward the door as he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair. “I should probably get going,” he says with a light yawn, brushing his hair back with his fingers. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got that early meeting tomorrow.”

You push up away from San on the couch to walk him to the door. “I enjoyed you coming over tonight, Hwa. Maybe we should have people over more often, right, San?” You say looking over at him with his back draped against the armrest of the couch.

He lets out a small hum of agreement, nodding his head up and down lazily as he shifts his attention from the television screen to the two of you at the door. 

“Of course,” Seonghwa says, adjusting his jacket. He pauses by the door, eyes flickering between you and San before settling back on you. “It’s been too long, really. I’m looking forward to next time.”

You laugh, shrugging lightly. “You know, this would have been sooner if you didn’t keep running off on me.”

Seonghwa chuckles softly at your teasing. "I can't help it, I've got a lot on my plate." He says this with a grin, clearly not bothered by the comment. As he steps closer to you, you give him a quick hug, your arms wrapping around him in a comfortable, familiar way. The moment feels warm, easy, just like it always has been with him.

"Take care of yourself, alright?" you murmur into his shoulder as you pull away.

"I will, I will," he replies, pulling back with a wink. "I’ll see you soon, Y/n.”

With one last smile, Seonghwa steps out the door, leaving you standing in the dimly lit hallway. You close the door behind him, and as you turn back to the living room, the silence falls over you.

You walk back to the couch, your footsteps soft on the carpet, and sit down again, this time closer to the middle of the cushion. His eyes are still glued to the screen, though the quiet hum of the TV doesn’t seem to hold the same weight anymore. The space between you feels quieter now, but not uncomfortable. 

You feel a small pull of curiosity tugging at you. You glance over at San, his features soft in the dim light, and then, almost on impulse, you let your mouth work faster than your head, you ask, “Were you jealous?”

San doesn’t turn to face you right away, but there’s a small shift in his posture. He tilts his head just enough for his gaze to flicker in your direction. His lips curl into him shyly, letting a small smirk, and he doesn’t miss a beat before answering, “A little.”

You don’t know why, but the short response makes your face heat. There’s something about the way he says it, as if it’s no big deal, but you know better. You roll your eyes, but there’s a softness in your smile. “You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, though your voice isn’t carrying any sort of edge. 

San chuckles under his breath, but he doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he leans back further against the armrest, as if settling into the silence between the two of you. “Just a little,” he says.

taglist

@kryscent @randajjjad @yutapeaxh @barbielibra @sheadoreswalls @candied-czennie @decaffeinatedpandabread @sannieworshipper @pirateprincessblog @zeeader @frecklyfelix @serotoninbarbz @choisandilf @nimzajsstuff @passerbyforfun @metzzz99csan @santineez

(please lmk if you’ve been missed out or i’ve entered your user wrong!)

[quickstappen]

track 004: the see is calm (before the storm)

A/N: i know i've disappeared for a while but it turns out that second year of college is very different to the first. now finally after two months i've got it under control so hopefully we'll have a semi-regular schedule for now, i'll try to post something every two weeks (on weekends most likely). anyway, this one's not very plot heavy but it's needed for the story, enjoy!

masterlist | previous next

liked by carlitosalcarazz, oscarpiastri and others

paola_sainz contrary to popular belief, I do actually work sometimes ;) keep your eyes open guys, things are getting done here

tagged: sean_cliff

see all comments...

F4ST_C4R oh please say its a new collection, i was too late for the 1st one and it sold out 😭

oui_lyanne who the fuck is sean

↳ 4ND1 from what i can see he's another designer

↳ oui_lyanne ooh, collab maybe? 👀

↳ f1w1tch OR the super secret boyf

L3CH41R well, looks like she's not in spa after all

mcwilliams are you gonna comment on the williams/carlos announcement??

↳ prplsector i mean,, why would she?? it's not her announcement, she's got a job

lightning_enjyr oh my god are those pieces from the new collection?? 😳

danielricciardo Respect the grind 💪🤠

↳ sadiebull sorry what is daniel ricciardo doing

↳ fastkiwi trying to relate to the youth lol

shithappens oh god women in suits 😳

STARG3N guys,,, what is carlos alcaraz doing in the likes

↳ hamilteaa the tennis player???

↳ STARG3N yeahhh

sean_cliff you know it's always a pleasure working with you 🤭

↳ paola_sainz oh I know, I am brilliant of course

↳ elmatadorf1 jesus what a self-centred bitch 💀

predestined55 no one's gonna buy this crap anyway 🐍

carlitosalcarazz We need to play again sometime! 🎾

↳ paola_sainz do your job at the Olympics first, then we'll see 👏

↳ isawthesainz THEY KNOW EACH OTHER???

↳ dutchlion sure looks like it 👀

oscarpiastri You gonna spend the whole summer break working too?

↳ paola_sainz actually no, this one guy invited me to visit his family you know

↳ oscarpiastri Lucky guy

↳ lightning_enjyr oui_lyanne surely you see my point now

↳ oui_lyanne everyday i am closer to believing you

view more...

paola's messages:

paola_sainz posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: a little pitstop before our journey ;)

caption 2: mid-rant and a little drunk but he's fine, alive and well

⟶ alex_albon replied to your story!

alex_albon oh thank god you're with him, he hasn't been answering my calls and texts

paola_sainz yeahh, we figured. me and Osc are with him rn but we have to leave in the morning

alex_albon shit, how is he really? do you seriously have to leave?

paola_sainz he's better than yesterday, mostly pissed atp but I'm sure that the self-hatered and misery will come soon

paola_sainz and yeah we have to, we've been trying to visit Oscar's family together for ages

paola_sainz I think he's going home for the rest of the break

alex_albon jesus, that's good at least

alex_albon I'll try to reach out again

paola_sainz good idea

caption 3: couldn't take this little guy home, apparently "2 is enough cats Lola"

⟶ maxverstappen1 replied to your story!

maxverstappen1 I think you should've taken him anyway, he is very cute

paola_sainz I knoww! I named him Barron Meowmilton

paola_sainz unfortunately, I do not fancy sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future so we left Barron at a local shelter ;)

maxverstappen1 Ah, I understand

maxverstappen1 We'll always remember you, Barron Meowmilton

caption 4: and we're off to see the future in-laws ;)

⟶ hattiepiastri replied to your story!

hattiepiastri has my brother done something we don't know about??

paola_sainz nahh, dw about it, you'd be first to know after your mum

paola_sainz I'm just sure I'm gonna marry him someday, there's no other option

hattiepiastri you're both so disgustingly gone for each other it should be studied

hattiepiastri can't wait to see you though

paola_sainz girll me too, it's been too long

paola's messages:

liked by jensonbutton, hattiepiastri and others

paola_sainz can confirm that kitties are just as cute down under as in the rest of the world ;)

see all comments...

shithappens paola talking about cats at all times? fork found in kitchen

arthur_leclerc did you try to take the cat home?

↳ oscarpiastri take a wild guess mate

↳ paola_sainz don't know what you're talking about mate

↳ oscarpiastri I have a feeling that you're gonna grossly overuse mate now

↳ paola_sainz now why would I do that... mate 😇

barbiegirl what are you doing in Australia girllll

elmatadorf1 thank god she's not going home with Carlos, he doesn't need her 🐍

jensonbutton Come back in one piece please

↳ paola_sainz don't you worry about that Jense, I am well taken care of ;)

oui_lyanne yeah okay she's actually in australia

charles_leclerc You're right, that's a very cute kitty

lightning_enjyr did you buy any new records?

oscarpiastri Have you seen the sights yet?

↳ paola_sainz not really, my tour guide has been kinda busy

↳ oscarpiastri That's a shame, there's a lot of great things to see

↳ paola_sainz don't worry mate, I've been looking at different kind of sights plenty enough, lot of beach days yk? I can wait a few more days 😉

↳ oscarpiastri Oh, well in that case 🫢

prplsector oscar is brave fr, I'll give him that 😳

4ND1 god the tension is this comment section is something else

ada_moore if Oscar's not the boyfriend and I was the boyfriend I am straight up fighting that man in some dark alley because that is so flirty and for what (if he IS the boyfriend, carry on please, the energy is unmatched)

L3CH41R how are her outfits always so good???

predestined55 Carlos just signed a contract and she's talking about cats and being a slut in the comments, great 😒

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hattiepiastri posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: did you know, we're killer on karaoke nights?

caption 2: doing all this late night talking

caption 3: we're keeping her oscarpiastri, if you don't wife her up I will

⟶ oscarpiastri replied to your story!

oscarpiastri You don't have to worry about that

paola_sainz posted new instagram stories!

caption 1: g'day mate! celebrity crush meet up officially checked out from my wishlist

caption 2: the locals showing me the best ice cream places in town

caption 3: hands that have never seen manual labour

⟶ oscarpiastri replied to your story!

oscarpiastri hey!

paola_sainz you're offended like it's not true

caption 4: bad bitch on the beach

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and others

paola_sainz most unexpected crossover of the year? maybe not as unexpected as you think! me and Robert did some cool things this week and I got to meet some sweet pets, I might not come back from 'Straya

see all comments...

N3CKSTRI excuse me- Robert Irwin and Paola Sainz in one place? i might actually die

prplsector spain's sweetheart with australia's sweetheart, way too cute

dutchlion can someone actually explain to me how people can hate her? if you don't like her content just stop looking at it, but actually hating on her?? can't imagine

robertirwinphotography It was good to finally see you! The animals already miss you

↳ paola_sainz oh god please don't say that, I'll cry for real 😭 I miss them too

shithappens i dunno, i still think it's pretty unexpected

fastkiwi the way this isn't even the wildest thing she's done this season 😳

predestined55 can you like rot in hell now? two faced bitch 🐍

barbiegirl they'd look sooooo goooood together

↳ zoebryne_x ik right??

logansargeant Is zookeeper next on the cv?

↳ paola_sainz you're laughing but I'd be an amazing zookeeper

↳ logansargeant Who told you that? I wouldn't trust them, you'd end up taking all the animals home

↳ paola_sainz Robert said I'd do great!

↳ logansargeant I think that's just his job, plus he's too nice to tell you the truth

↳ paola_sainz you're mean, see if I bring you gifts when I get back

4ND1 can I meet Robert Irwin now??

oscarpiastri Still looking at sights?

↳ paola_sainz why, you jealous mate?

↳ oscarpiastri Don't worry, just curious

lightning_enjyr are they even trying to hide it atp???

elmatadorf1 can she just injure sth since she's playing tennis so much? maybe then we'd get a break from her stupid face 🤢

↳ STARG3N you guys are literally insane what the hell

madi_races every time i open the comment section i get whiplash, on twt everyone is trying to figure out who the boyfriend is, the press is eating this all up, people are placing bets and here is oscar just shamelessly flirting, it's like a different universe

arthur_leclerc I'm coming with you next time

↳ paola_sainz ditch Charles and come here then

hammertime_1 guys i really don't think Oscar's the boyfriend, she's just way out of his league

isawthesainz jesus she's so cringe, excuse me while i throw up

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paola's messages:

NETHERLANDS 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and others

oscarpiastri And we're back 👍 break at home was good but it's nice to be racing again

see all comments...

laile_f1 he's never beating the calm cat allegations

catstri81 that is the most oscar caption to ever caption

maximumformula he's doing the dad pose 😭

4ND1 i can't with him 😭 he's just a guyy

chat_withmani ohh he's posted the girlfriend!!

elmatadorf1 i can't believe he still has a seat

↳ prplsector can you guys stop being fucking petty for a minute

paola_sainz so did the girlfriend like it in the down under mate?

↳ oscarpiastri Yeah, since she's now best friends with my sister I'm pretty sure she did mate 🙄

↳ paola_sainz what, you jealous of your sister?

↳ oscarpiastri She basically stole my girlfriend

lestappen116 he looks so happy 😭

fastkiwi it was good to see you back at home

landonorris Let's go mate! Good weekend 👍

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paola's messages:

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

taglist: @blushmimi @Ale-522 @joalslibrary @jaydaaasworld @vroomvroommuppett @sugarhoneylemons @formulaonebuff @clove0 @rockyhayzkid @glitzyditzy @coriyaps @irishmanwhore @gr3yhues @kikiki04 @fall-bambi @nichmeddar @sunfairyy @formulaal @marauders-wife @theseus-jpg @heavy-vettel @anxxiousaries @linaversion @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @d3kstar @camelliaflow3r @delululeclerc @lesliiieeeee (xxx - couldn't tag you)

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

[chexxycheol]

Chapter 6. Nothing is Easier || 13 Forget-Me-Nots

❀ Seventeen x Reader

title 13 Forget-Me-Nots or 13 Eternal Loves

synopsis You couldn't wait for your 20th birthday to finally reveal the one person you'd spend the rest of your life with. Well the 13 people you'd spend the rest of your life with. Or that story where reader has 13 soulmates, who happen to be idol group seventeen

genre Fluff, Angst, Romance

tags Soulmate!au, Idol! Seventeen x Non-idol! Reader, OT13 x Reader, Seventeen x Reader.

warnings Anxiety, Mature language, Inconsistent upload schedule, Reader is gender neutral but sometimes certain depictions lean feminine.

⚘ author if you're keeping up with this story thank you so much! i decided to have a taglist to those interested! if you'd like to be added, comment under this post. constructive criticism is welcomed and my asks are open for feedback!

this story is a work of fiction and should be separated from reality. thank you and enjoy!

—chery

wc 1.3k

《 previous || masterlist || next chapter 》

A loud knock came from your door. You looked at the time and saw it was almost 10 p.m. Groaning, not knowing who would want to see you at this hour, you pulled yourself out of bed and head to the door.

“I told you I didn’t want to go out tonight” You said while opening the door expecting it to be one of Felix’s sisters but seeing it was Felix himself.

“You might be able to lie to my sisters, but you can’t lie to me” Felix said while walking into your hotel room. “Well come on in” You muttered.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong? My sisters told me what happened at the concert, you were gone for a long time and came back in a completely different mood” Felix was worried. He heard about what happened when he saw his family at dinner and questioned your absence.

“Did you know?” You asked calmly, a little too calm for Felix’s liking. He didn’t know what you were talking about in the slightest. Changbin and Chan have been acting strange around him and though he would’ve brushed it off and chalked it up to nerves from having a show with everyone there, he knew something was up when you started acting weird as well.

“What are you talking about?” Felix was confused about everything going on.

“Did you know that all of Seventeen were my soulmates?” Your voice rises, letting the frustration get the best of you.

“No! You should know that I would tell you if I found out” Felix reassured you. This was all new information to him until he remembered that three members of Seventeen were attending their show. The realization set in for him that you had found your soulmates.

“YOU MET THEM? DIDN’T YOU?” Felix was practically yelling now while hugging you he was excited for you. He pulled away noticing you weren’t matching his excitement, which was unusual.

“Why are you here and not with them? What’s wrong?” Felix began to question you but you didn’t know where to start with how this all happened, so you started from the beginning and told him everything leading up to now.

“Wow it’s been a day for you, I think you should call Mingyu though. He might be feeling burdened with the fact that they’re all waiting for you to call him” 

Felix always tried to see both sides to give you perspective on how others might be feeling, he would call you out on your bullshit and you’d do the same for him. He truly was a great friend when holding you accountable for things.

So when he urged you to call Mingyu and talk to him, he wanted you to fix the small mistake you unknowingly made. He didn’t exactly know Mingyu’s feelings but he at least figured their whole group knew now and that they were all anxiously waiting for you to call him.

After talking with Felix and watching a movie, he pushed you a bit to call Mingyu once he left. “Just call and talk to him, if you’re not ready to meet everyone just express you want to talk to just him for now. I’m sure he’ll understand and want to talk to you as much as you want to talk to him right now”

You walked him out promising to go out during the next few days of your visit. He gave you a long hug and reassured you everything would be okay before heading back to his dorm. 

So there you sat in your hotel room once again staring at Mingyu’s contact deciding if you should call him, despite it being late. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and just talk to him. Clicking the call button and hearing the ringing felt like it went on forever but on the third ring, he answered.

“Hello?” His voice sounded unsure.

“Mingyu? It’s Y/N” You got out before he could hang up on you.

“How’re you soulmate?” You laugh trying to be light-hearted.

Mingyu didn’t know how to feel right now. Should he tell the rest of his members? But before he could even consider running inside to tell them you’d called, your voice cut through the phone quickly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke. For now, don’t tell the others I wanted to talk to you first.” He was confused. You told him you’d call when you were ready to meet everyone.

“I wanted to apologize for putting this burden on you, I shouldn’t have done it in the first place and I didn’t consider what I would be putting you through” Mingyu waited for you to continue but suddenly heard you sniffling.

“I didn’t want to hurt you by making you carry this burden. That is my fault, and I should’ve thought about how you would feel. I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” You were sobbing now, knowing that you had hurt one of your soulmates, which is what you didn’t intend to do.

“Hey it’s okay, I accept and appreciate your apology” Mingyu couldn’t stand to hear you cry, he never wanted you to cry. 

“I didn’t mean to start crying but please know, I don’t want to hurt you anymore” You finish, but you know in your mind that you couldn’t meet everyone yet.

“It’s okay, I promise. I will admit I did feel the burden of it but I had a long talk with Jeonghan and Myungho, and I feel better about everything. Now wipe your tears before I find you to comfort you” Mingyu could hear your sniffled laugh.

“Please tell me more about yourself, Mingyu” You asked, wanting to hear more about the man you’re talking to.

“Well then, I have a younger sister, I like photography, I’m the tallest in the group, and I’m 25 years old. Now tell me more about you, soulmate” He decided to give small tidbits, not wanting to give too much away so he could get to know you more in person.

“I’m currently a university student in my third year since I took a gap year before going to university, I’m 22 years old, and I enjoy reading”

“What do you study?” Mingyu questions, you can hear him moving around on the other end. “Sorry about that I was making sure nobody can interrupt this time for me to talk to my girl” He laughs trying to make a joke.

You laugh at his attempt to smooth talk you. “You’re cute, soulmate. I study music performance. Can you tell me more about the others?” 

“What do you want to know?”

“The chaos all of you bring to the table” You laugh and he laughs as well, you’re glad both of you moved past your mistake and can talk without it being too awkward.

“I’ll start going from eldest to youngest”

He told you about everyone, how Woozi or Jihoon may seem cold and distant but he’s a softie, Soonyoung thinks he’s a tiger, Jun and Myungho are from China and are both usually quiet, Seungkwan is the drama, Seokmin is very empathetic, Vernon also speaks English and is usually in his own world, and how Jeonghan is very cheeky. 

He didn’t tell too much because he wanted to give you a chance to get to know them all on your own and see how everyone is, but he’s glad that he was able to make you laugh with some of what he’s told you.

“Thank you, Mingyu. I can’t wait to meet everyone!” Your voice is a bit more cheerful, he can hear the smile on your side. Before he can respond to you, your voice comes back over the phone.

“I’m free in a few days, I promised to see Felix and spend time with his family. But if everyone is okay with it and you’re all free, I’d like to meet you all” You get out quickly before you can take back your words.

“That’d be great! we should all be free but I’ll check and let you know. Is it okay if I text you? Can I let everyone know?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t have to keep this from the others.

“Yes and you can tell everyone”

[toppamplemousse]

f1 fic rec list

inspired to make my own fic rec list. decided to choose some of my fave fics that are under 5k hits just for those who might not have seen some of these!

please be warned - some of these do not have happy endings. it wouldn't be a list from me if there wasn't some major suffering.

lestappen fic recs:

even a Mouse by ficster28 / @ficster28 | 19.7k words | G

Charles was fifteen when his dæmon settled. It was a perfectly average age to settle, and it happened so quietly and naturally that neither he nor Moira even noticed at first. They had other things to think about: today, they were aiming to beat out Ben Barnicoat and Max Verstappen at Val d’Argenton. It wasn’t until they were getting into the kart that they realised. Moira normally transformed into an insect to race, something small enough that she could crawl inside Charles’s race suit and be protected as he drove. Today, she didn’t even try to change; they both just looked at each other, and knew. “A mouse,” he said. genuinely a fic like none other. so painful. so beautiful.

The Tides of Fate by crimsonmidnight / @mvlionheart | 14.5k words | M

When they break apart they’re both breathless and laughing, forming a symphony with the seagulls squawking nearby and the shouts of men dragging logs past the gatehouse. The world feels like an infinite expanse and nothing more than the space between them, somehow simultaneously. "You’re pretty good at that,” Max comments, hand brushing over the back of his neck “Kissing?” Charles asks. “I’ve never done it before.” “No,” Max teases. “You’re rubbish at that, but you’re a good jailbreak. Thanks for the assistance. I’ll see you around." heed the tags. prepare for heartbreak. the most beautiful tragic story.

Your Name is Charles by joesboilingpoint / @tylersayscool | 45k words | M

After running into a soldier following the burning of his commune and maddened by grief, Charles aims to shoot the man down, only to be taken down himself, waking up later on and remembering nothing of his previous life, now a soldier himself. - M is very practical about his work, seasoned in combat and skilled in spotting targets. C has seen the man in practice, seen him sweat and grunt and keep himself in shape. He’s seen him routinely climb ropes and train for ruck marches, seen him demolish his target boards. But it’s one thing to see the man train in the comfort of their home base, where it’s safe and sheltered and familiar. It’s a whole other experience watching him in action. this author nails an AU like no one else. the world building is unparalleled and the story is just incredible. ending has me in a CHOKEHOLD

blowing smoke by gurlznboyz | 7.5k (unfinished) | E

“What is it like?” “What is what like?” “Being with men,” Charles gestures. He means for it to be derisive. Cutting. His hand flails a little limply. “Is it different than with women?” “Yeah, mate,” Max says. ��Fucking a guy is totally different than fucking a girl. That’s kind of the whole point, is it not?” Charles shrugs, bringing his own beer bottle up to his lips. “I would not know. I have never had sex with a man.” when charles catches max verstappen, his mortal enemy since they were all but seven, kissing a man, he tries to be normal about it. when they start falling into bed together, he becomes decidedly not normal about it. BEAR WITH ME when i say that this is one chapter so far and i think about it all the time. something just so delicious. ill be here always.

here's to all the mistakes i never made by ncr1pted / @3ncr1pted | 4.9k words | E

Charles is twenty-eight–almost twenty-nine. He's not stupid either. He knows people; knows how to play them, how to get what he wants, how they act. He can recognize the starstruck look in his teammates eyes whenever he and Charles talk. The way he follows Charles around, half a step behind. He used to look at Seb that way. when i say. the fact this is under 5k words and yet i went thru every emotion on the planet. few people understand the sebchal of it all like aries does.

love & much worse drugs by indras | 5k words (unfinished) | E

It was the night of the twelfth of December 2021. Now, if you know anything about Formula One, then you probably know the earlier events of that day. Those, we won’t get into. This story isn’t about racing. It’s about sex. In Max’s eyes, sex and racing had always been opposites. Racing for a finish line during sex would make one a selfish partner. And Max had never thought himself a selfish partner. Nor would one want to fight their partner in bed, least of all in the way that Max fought his opponents on the racetrack. And that is exactly how Max managed to compartmentalize his relations with Charles Leclerc, his longtime opponent, into two categories – sex and racing. Or, Max is a fresh world champion with an increasing alcohol-habit, and now, an image problem. like. they fucking in ch 1, they're bitching by ch 3, the hottest fic with tormented alcoholic max. sign me UP.

ok these two have more than 5k hits BUT i still think they're underrated and would implore EVERYONE to read:

on top of the world (looking down on creation) by eaurouge_sangnoir / @eaurouge-sangnoir | 67.3k words | E

Nothing came close to winning a World Championship. Nothing. Not even sex. Not that Max would know. Or; Max won his first World Championship at the age of twenty-four, still a virgin. He's finally ready to do something about it. On the other side of the hotel room door, there was Charles.

could easily my favorite fic ever. the most beautiful heartbreaking story by an author whose way with the english language is beyond compare. it's hot, angsty, sad, beautiful, i cannot cannot cannot recommend this enough. every chapter so incredible.

balaclava lines by richardmarie75 / @cornerofacry | 10k words (unfinished) | E

"He will never be yours." She freed herself from his hold. Wiped her face with her palms. "Charles. He will never be yours," she continued, gaze traveling to the trophy that stood next to his sim, gargantuan and gold. Blood and sweat in the limelight for a place in the sun. Max stared at her, immobile. or Max and Charles dump their girlfriends and find each other during the winter break. this summary barely scratches the surface of what is truly a breathtaking three chapters. this fic will never leave me. the agony and pain and the desperation and the LOVE the author conveys in such ornate, beautiful ways is beyond words.

[dorkagedoodles]

And there we have it folks - the end of Empyrean Book I! I sound like a parrot but just ... thank you so much for reading! Also, for everyone's convenience, the afterword is also in text under the "keep reading" bellow. <<< PREVIOUS ✧˖☆˖✧˖☆˖✧Page Archive✧˖☆˖✧˖☆˖✧

(To be continued ... ) AFTERWORD

I’ve been putting off writing this for way too long, thinking I have plenty of time until suddenly: BAM! December was upon me and the final update of Empyrean Book I was uploaded while I had the worst migraine in years and couldn’t even scramble together a last minute afterword. But here we go. I’ll try not to care about sounding professional or eloquent, just so I can get it done.

First I want to say a big thank you to everyone who've read Empyrean, all the way through or just a little bit, I’m grateful nonetheless. And extra big thank you to everyone who’s left comments or nice tags in the reblogs etc. I’m awful at responding, but I’ve seen them all and really, really appreciate it.

I worked on the book on and off for three years and I’m pretty happy with the end result. Of course, this is just the beginning of the story. I have an outline for the whole thing, aiming for a total of four books of similar length which will, as you can guess, take a loooooong time. Which brings me to my second point.

Empyrean will go on hiatus for the time being. For how long? I wish I knew. While Book 2 is all scripted and currently in the sketching stage, I have no idea when I’ll have enough finished pages for an update. Once I do, however, I’ll probably update as I finish the pages, rather than wait for the whole book to be complete.

I don’t think I need to explain much of why this is. It’s simply being an adult. It’s having rent, bills and a cat with special dietary needs. And what Empyrean brings in joy it certainly doesn’t bring in money, so ever since July I’ve drawn almost nothing but freelance work.

Despite that, I still feel positive about the future of Empyrean. It’s already been published in parts in a small Swedish magazine and I’ve met people and opened doors that would have been impossible, had I not created Empyrean. Long time followers might remember how I’ve long wanted to be able to support myself by making art. And right now? That's exactly what I’m doing.

Finishing Empyrean will take many years and, in the end, it might never even get picked up by a publisher. But I’m at peace with both of those things. I draw Empyrean entirely for myself and would continue to do so even if not a single other person was reading it. Though … as long as there’s at least one such person I will keep uploading it too!

Lastly, I’ve been looking into self-publishing and hope to give that a try. No solid plans yet, just counting costs, looking at kickstarters and such. I’m currently neck-deep in a big project, but once that’s over I can start thinking about it again. When the time comes, I will of course post about it.

I think that is all. It got a bit longer and ramblier than I planned but oh well.

Again, thank you so much for reading Empyrean! And until next time! -Hans

[lemotmo]

We can all have missed him while admitting that it made sense.

Q. I'm annoyed at myself for being annoyed at the lack of Eddie 😂

A. While I'm still very confused as to why Karla didn't receive a co-directing credit for 8x13 they clearly cut his scenes from this episode and made them into a stand alone episode for Invisible, and after watching the episode it was absolutely the right thing to do. Cutting away from the contagion stuff to Texas stuff would have obliterated the pacing of this episode (I do love that they still had Buck work in an Eddie reference though). This was the unfortunate consequence of Tim wasting so much screen time in the first half of the season on Brad nonsense. I will forever be annoyed at the Brad crap (no offense to Callum he seems lovely). I understand they had to work around Gavin's availability but kids disappear into the 'kiddie cubbard' all the time on television. He didn't need to leave the state. They could have handled the entire thing better, but I'm not going to spend too much time harping on it because this episode was amazing. And the Eddie/Christopher stuff of the last episode was lovely and deserved to exist as it's own thing and not be second fiddle to the contagion storyline. For that reason I'm actually very happy they gave them their own room to breathe for an episode. And I think Eddie will be in episode 15 and the remaining episodes, so while I'm sad we didn't get to see army medic Eddie in action (😔), it made sense from a pacing standpoint.

Thank you Nonny!

Yeah, it was a great episode I agree. I also agree that any Eddie & Chris scenes wouldn't have fit into this episode at all. So I am happy they gave Eddie his own storyline in the previous episodes.

But I stand by the opinion that they should have kept this story-idea for the season 9 opener. Then they could have had all of their main actors and characters there and it would have made a greater impact. Especially with Eddie's skills.

I don't know. I just really miss Eddie in the 118 to be honest. It's like Ali said and I talked about it in my previous posts as well, the Vertigo plot was just not a good idea and it created so many problems for season 8 when it comes to Eddie's character.

But alas, it is what it is. I enjoyed the episode and I'm looking forward to 8x15. They can't leave a main character like Eddie out of three episodes in one season, so I'm sure he'll be there in some capacity. Let's see what they have in store for us.

Onwards to next week! 🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[boujiestpoet]

Oh that's not pt 3

Summary: Lando starts dropping cryptic love messages in his instagram, getting fans excited until they discover who he is talking about, and he HARD luanches his new (not really new tho) girl.

Faceclaim: The one and only Ryan Destiny

Genre: Social Media/ Real life

THIS IS A REMINDER: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION I DON'T KNOW NONE OF THIS PEOPLE, AND THIS WOTK DO NOT REPRESENT WHO THEY ARE

Previous chapter, Next Chapter

Amara sighs for the tenth time while waiting for her food. She's currently wondering if she made the right decision not to go to the SAG awards and instead decided to go to dinner with her boyfriend, whose eyes are glued to the screen

"You know I'm here in the flesh, there's no need to stalk my IG" she whispers, even though she doesn't need to because I'm in a private area of the luxury restaurant

"Sorry" the driver puts his phone down, his eyes moving towards his girlfriend

She is dressed in a brown dress that complements her beautiful skin, which shines like gold under the light, he is mesmerized.

"You're beautiful" he takes her hand, even though she hears those compliments every day, the actress always finds herself blushing. And every time he notices, her reaction always makes him smile.

"You have returned to planet earth" she smiles

"Sorry, I was rather distracted, it won't happen again" he kisses her hand

"I understand…the season is about to start, if I were in your place I wouldn't even be able to sleep"

"I am confident that this season will be better than last year" he announces

"I'll cheer for you wherever I am" she exclaims, Lando remembers that in a few days, Amara will have to leave Bahrain and they won't see each other for months.

"When will they start filming?" he asks

"Two weeks, but I have to be in London for the last costume fitting" finally the food arrives

"I'll miss you" he confesses, the girl knows what he means

"I will miss you too, but I will come to see you at all the GPs that will take place in Europe" she reassures him, Lando is not a person who lets anxiety get the better of him but when it happens he knows that Amara is there to do everything possible to make it sound good,

He doesn't want to make her worry but he himself doesn't want her to leave, but at the same time he loves how her eyes shine when she follows her passions. He didn't know that being in love was so simple and complicated at the same time

" It's a promise?" he pressed her hand.

"Yes darling, now let's eat before the food gets cold"

landonorris

💬❤️liked by ayoedibiri,mclaren and other 890,000

landonorris: She said she's my biggest fan, but I'M her biggest fan

view comments......

↳ Amara_thepoet: You think you can beat me?

↳ landonorris: Yeah I love you more than you love me

↳ Amara_thepoet: Well I love you more

↳ ayoedibiri: Can yall please spare us

↳ oscarpiastri: Forreal is disgusting

sam💖: I fucking knew it at mrsnorris. It's quite ain't no back talk

↳ Mclarenfan: Not you tagging her

↳ sam💖: She needed some reality check

Mclaren: Our new favourite couple

↳ Mclarenfan: What about Oscar and Lily

↳ Mclaren: 🤫

amarathefan: Well it's time to get into f1

username67: I know some people,are having a bad day 🤣

So I'm back not because I was ready, but I click post soo yeah...I'm not quite confident with this chapter. I accept advices PLEASE.

Taglist: @dutifullyannoyingfox

[unicorncornflakes]

Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Modern!Aegonx Reader | Chapter 3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (As soon as posible)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :( I have realised during my ausence that this is a Aegon x Reader too, so...

General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator @tempt-ress @watercolorskyy @tsujifreya @qyburnsghost @thetrueblackheart

Tag-List for this series (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @snh96 @zenka69 @darkenchantress

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.5K

You grabbed your bag and stood up from the table where you were sitting. You lowered the short, violet dress you were wearing that night. It had too little fabric for your taste, but Alys had insisted that you had bought it toward two years for some special reason and she insisted that you wear it for her birthday celebration. You remembered Aemond murmuring that you were very pretty and your cheeks had flushed slightly.

At that moment you felt stupid watching him dance with Alys. She pressed her body against him on the dance floor of that exclusive club, where Aemond had gotten a VIP section for his girlfriend's birthday. For his beloved Alys and all her friends. That included you. However, after watching Alys rub her butt against Aemond's crotch for the twenty-third time that night you felt out of place. It wasn't that you had counted the times she had made that move, or that you had a game in which you used to take a drink every time she did it... how many hangovers hadn't been because of that move... No, really  No. You wore very well than your best friend came out with the boy you liked since high school. You were doing terribly well. You were only going home because you couldn't stand those high heels or that short dress anymore. The atmosphere of that club. Crowded with people and with an oppressive temperature…

You said goodbye to all your friends on the pretext that your head hurt and Shiera and her bicolor eyes knew that you were lying, but she didn't give it any more importance. She was the only friend who had let you know that Alys' move had been too low when she started dating Aemond when it was obvious that you liked him. But did you like Aemond? Of course not. Of course not. You had always been friends and there was a sacred rule about not going out with friends. Things broke down and that's why you had never done anything... Right? Another lie that you always told yourself to calm your sad mood.

You left the club and found yourself on the street in the rain and Sound of the cars that were trying to drive under that unexpected temporary. The now muffled music coming out of that exclusive venue. That repetitive and strident sound. You grabbed your arms and thought about your options to get home. All your skin was crawling from the cold and humidity of the water and although you didn't realize it, the humidity there was frizzy that hairstyle that had cost you so much to do that night. The truth was that you knew that a small part of you had only acted like this to impress Aemond, although you would rather die than admit it. You had always found it pathetic that two women competed for the same man. You kept thinking about how to get back home.

You could order a taxi and have it drop you off at the King's Landing bus station. There was a bus that left there at one in the morning. It would take you about 45 minutes to arrive and you could take off that terrible dress and those uncomfortable shoes. You could also call your brother and stay the night at his apartment, but you knew he would end up arguing with his girlfriend like always. So you ruled it out. You could... call your father and ask him to come pick you up. But that would only mean having to explain why you had returned so soon from your supposed best friend's party.

“Hey, how come you're not inside? It's a terrible storm to be outside” you heard Alys' voice behind you and your brain ended up freezing completely. You weren't in the mood to pretend that everything was okay between you, because it hadn't been for three years. Everything was a supposed cordiality and sisterhood that in many cases ended up stressing you out, all because it wouldn't be obvious that you were just jealous. Terribly jealous.

"I'm going home. My head hurts a little” you responded with the best of your fake smiles and you only saw that she was still perfect even despite the humidity of the environment. She was always bloody perfect, with her makeup well applied, her hair perfectly combed, and her dress without a single wrinkle, despite having spent the whole night rubbing against Aemond. Sometimes you thought she even did it on purpose.

“Oh, come on, just wait a couple of hours and Aemond and I will take you home in his car,” she replied, trying to take your hand and go back to the party, but you just let go of her in a bad way, and you realized that such a violent and tiring gesture had managed to destroy the fragile facade of feigned happiness for her that you had managed to build over those hard three years. You weren't going to go home again while Aemond drove and Alys touched up in the passenger seat.

“I don't want to be a bother. Today is your birthday and I imagine you will go do your things after this” you sighed, your cheeks slightly blushing. You could still hear Alys' criticism of the fact that you still hadn't slept with anyone. Alys always patronized you and laughed amusingly as you both continued under the entrance to the club. You are much closer to the rain than she was.

“You mean I'm going to go fuck him after my birthday party?” She smiled at you, amused and arrogant, crossing his arms, knowing that that way of speaking always made you feel uncomfortable. Alys had never been known for being subtle or discreet. It was what you thought men liked about her. “Of course I will, but we can keep bringing you closer to home” she smiled again. She laughed in your face and found the sad face you had made when she had confirmed that she would sleep with Aemond that night even more amusing. You were so innocent that she always thought you had to imagine them playing house when you weren't with them.

“My head really hurts,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks blush. In that moment, you wished you were Alys and received all the attention Aemond gave her day after day. “And I just want to go home…”

“(Y/N), I'm not stupid, okay? I know you like Aemond, but, you have played your cards better” she laughed and you went pale. You saw her smirk as she hit the nail on the head. You had always considered yourself a good actress, but you weren't. You never had been. “This party is full of guys and you just need to get laid. My boyfriend would end up being a mere memory in your head if you did that” she could see how it had been a real stab that she referred to Aemond as her boyfriend and she just laughed, again. “Please, you and Aemond have always been in very different leagues, and you are still a child unable to get over your high school crush,” she laughed and you couldn't take it anymore. It almost seemed like Alys had always found pleasure in humiliating you. “Don't be pathetic. Go back to the party and go to the bathroom with the first one who invites you to a drink” She offered her hand for you to come back in and something inside your head seemed to click at that moment.

“Did you know I liked Aemond in high school?” you asked her and her smile faltered for the first time that night.

“Hey…” Alys started to shake her head. She had always known it. And your heart broke even more. What the hell had Alys been playing since then? “(Y/N), I…”

“It's a yes or a no. It's not that complicated,” you replied, feeling your whole body trembling as if you couldn't stand on your legs. And she bit her lips. She didn't want to answer you. She didn't want to do it because she had always known and never cared. She had only had one very clear goal with Aemond. "Brilliant. You knew it and you still screwed it.”

“You couldn't decide. It was stupid to see you” she blurted that out in your face as if it were a compelling enough reason and you didn't even stay to listen to the rest of the explanation. You just ran out of there, in the rain, your bag swinging on your bare shoulder and hugging yourself. “(Y/N), come back” she yelled at you. But, you were too sad to look back again and you just ran through the rain, almost not knowing where to go.

Alys saw your figure disappear and only turned to return to the club. At the door she met Aemond, who had come out to look for you. He asked her if everything was okay and she just kissed him and took him to the bathroom. That was the perfect way their relationship worked. She was sure he hadn't heard any of your conversation.

You kept walking until you ended up cold and soaked in a part of the city you didn't know. But, you felt too betrayed to be able to feel afraid. You weren't in a good neighborhood and fate was just capricious when you heard something moving in an alley.

At that moment, you realized where you were and you felt afraid. You saw the gazes of some of the passersby fix on you and one even whistled at you as you passed by him. “What is a girl as pretty and alone as you doing in a place like this?” He whispered to you as he grabbed your arm. That man only smelled of alcohol and you felt stupid for having rejected Alys' offer. How did you end up there?

A shadow appeared between the garbage cans in that alley and you never felt so happy to have seen Aegon in your life. He was in a sorry state, with an eyebrow and a split lower lip. He staggered and sighed as he tried to focus his eyes on the spectacle in front of his eyes. You thought he almost looked like he had just been beaten up and he just tried to smile at the sight of you.

That man who had grabbed you stood still, just like you. To that stranger, even in a state as pitiful as that, Aegon Targaryen was someone to be reckoned with. It was a name that could only bring trouble, and, yes, it was perfectly the kind of neighborhood where you'd imagine Aegon on a Saturday night.

“Hey, (Y/N), is this asshole bothering you?” he responded, clutching his ribs, sighing heavily and ending with a smile just as he finished exhaling. That guy looked you up and down, weighing whether the risk of facing Aegon was worth it, even if he was in that state so unbecoming of his family's name, as Aemond always said.

The same guy who had assaulted you let you go and left without saying anything else. Aegon leaned against the brick wall at the corner of the alley and smiled at you again. He made a pitiful sound again and you approached as if you had become active again, after the terror that had taken hold of you. "Are you OK?" you asked him, eyes full of concern and Aegon thought about how he liked your eyes when they looked at him like that. You were a good enough person to care about him. He thought you were even too good a person to be his brother's best friend. You always gave everything you had.

“I've had better nights. Also worse” he answered you while he continued clutching his ribs and took out the keys to his car that was parked at the door of that seedy dive. You didn't even want to ask him what activities were carried out there. You approached with concern and he tried to smile again. Aegon had always treated you cordially, even sympathetically, despite the relationship you had with Aemond. “Well, can I get you somewhere?” Because it's hard for me to leave you in a neighborhood like this alone,” he said with difficulty, banging the keys on the hood of the last Ferrari his parents had bought him. You knew how bad that had felt for Aemond. However, they paid for his very expensive and exclusive doctorate while his brother seemed to indulge that sinful life that only brought him problems.

“I think you should go to the hospital and have that bruise looked at,” you told him as you opened the passenger door. You knew Aemond was going to kill him when he found out whatever had happened to him, and you felt obligated to escort him, as if you had taken the same responsibility on your own of your best friend. You got into the car and Aegon smiled again at the same time he too opened his door.

“I'll go to the hospital right after I drop you off at your house or wherever you want,” he said, starting the car, without putting on his seat belt. At that moment he realized that you were soaked and that you had cried. He had made enough women cry to know the expression that was painted on your face. “Uhm, are you okay? Because you look terrible” he asked you with genuine concern and the greatest tact he had. Aegon had never been known for having good tact.

“Are you really asking me how I am doing when you have a possible broken rib?” you asked him, framing your eyebrows in a worried gesture and he just laughed.

"Believe me. I've had my ribs broken and they hurt more,” he answered honestly and you looked at your phone at that moment. Aemond had sent you a message. Alys none. And you didn't want to see what your best friend had written to you. You didn't think you were capable. You would end up crying. “I thought today was Alys's birthday,” Aegon murmured as he tapped the steering wheel as he began to drive through the city. You didn't even want to wonder if he was up to it, but you just sighed.

“Yes, it is,” you said, putting the phone back in your bag and Aegon just bit his inner cheek. Okay, it was better not to ask you about that topic. He knew enough about women to know that: one, that you had cried, and two, that you must have argued with Alys. The reasons for the discussion could be quite broad. To Aegon, Alys had always seemed as much of a cretin as his cretin of a brother. But Aemond was his little brother and he had no choice but to put up with him. He couldn't stand Alys and it showed. But, he was always the life of the party. He considered his brother's girlfriend so stupid that he thought that not even she must know. You had a sad face, but that was the face you had since Alys and Aemond had started dating. His brother had made a terrible mistake by not choosing you. A mistake Aegon was not willing to make. Maybe, he could sleep with you and see if things worked out…no, no. You were too good a girl for that.

“So… Shall I take you back to the party?” He asked and called himself stupid. You had to come from there, wrapped in tears and looking terrible. A sigh escaped your lips and you just rested your head against the car seat. Your eyes squeezed shut and a tear escaped them.

“No, leave it,” you quickly wiped away that tear with the back of your hand and Aegon felt violent. He had seen you cry before, but it had always been when you were younger, in Aemond's room and, of course, his brother had always been there for you. The eldest Targaryen only knew you in a much less intimate context. He found you quite nice considering the people Aemond usually chose as friends and Aegon had to confess that he had looked at your ass on more than one occasion at one of the parties they had at his house when his parents were away. He did like you somewhat, but he had imagined you as his sister-in-law until Alys appeared in Aemond's life. “Could you drop me off at the bus station?”

“Yes, of course,” Aegon drove in silence. So, yes, you had argued with Aemond's girlfriend. He didn't see you capable of crying about it, or about the situation. Your tears must have had another explanation. Aegon looked at the clock. It was quite late and you probably wanted to take the last bus that would take you to that small city so close to King's Landing. But, you weren't going to have time and that boy thought about whether it was advisable to leave you with such a short dress, such disastrous looks and such uncomfortable shoes in such a lonely season so late. He couldn't think of anything better than the stupid thing he said next. “Um… you could come to my apartment. Uhmmm, I would need someone to cure my lip and eyebrow…” he scratched the back of his neck while his other hand was still on the steering wheel. He thought it was better to keep you in his house with such a stupid ruse than to endure the scolding Aemond would give him if anything happened to you. Besides, a small part of Aegon, very small, actually worried that something might happen to you. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and only saw you completely blushing. He would have killed to know what you were thinking, but your only mind was that it was the same apartment you had stayed the night in many other times, before Alys started dating Aemond. The couch had always seemed comfortable to you, although Aemond had always left you his bed and he had gone to sleep on the couch. How many nights had you slept there thinking that Aemond would show up in the middle of the night? But, he had never done it and you had never approached the sofa either. You were both too shy or stupid to do it. “Okay, it was stupid and…” Aegon started rambling and you just looked at his wounds. Maybe you could help him.

"OK. Alright. Let's go to the apartment” you replied as you relaxed in the passenger seat and brushed your arms again, freezing to death. Maybe it was better than spending the night waiting for the next bus. You would leave in the morning. You were sure that Aemond and Alys had booked a hotel room for that night. You wouldn't see them. Nothing would happen. You preferred to spend the night under the same roof as Aegon than alone and soaked at the station.

The next thing you remembered was Aegon shirtless. Sitting on the toilet bowl, drinking a bottle of Vodka. The same concoction you were using to rub on the wound on your eyebrow. It was quite deep and did not seem to slow down in its efforts to bleed scandalously. You weren't good at that. You've never had to heal a wound like that on anyone. You and Aemond had always been calm and smart enough to stay out of trouble, even when you were in high school.

Aegon let out another pitiful whimper as the cotton touched the wound again. You only came closer, but Aegon couldn't help but think that you smelled too good. He had your breasts at eye level and found them fascinating. He just took another sip from the bottle while he kept looking at them. You continued in silence, too focused to pay him any attention. Aemond had been an asshole for not telling you when it was obvious that he had had a crush on you all through high school. The eldest Targaryen moved again as the cotton touched the wound again and you just grabbed his chin.

“Please, if you don't stay still I'm not going to move forward with this” you whispered to him while you kept looking at the wound. He liked your worried eyes, your eyes fixed on him, even if it was to heal a simple wound. “I don't know why they did this to you, but it doesn't look good,” you murmured as you dipped a new cotton ball into the bottle that had finally been freed from his hands and he just chuckled.

“Well, at least they didn't kill me. If they had killed me, I wouldn't be able to pay them back the money I owe them” Aegon joked and you just narrowed your eyes while shaking your head. Not a single smile had appeared on your lips and that was almost a way to make Aegon vulnerable, or maybe it was just a strategy to get you into his bed that night. Aegon wasn't sure what was wrong with you. With you. On that one and first time that you were alone and showed genuine concern for him.

“Don't move,” you whispered, still focused on the wound. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped and keeping an eye on that was better than thinking about how ridiculous you had been at Alys's party. Aegon didn't move and just sighed, relaxing his muscles.

“I know I'm a fucking mess. "I'm sorry," Aegon replied. He bit his cheek and just looked at the ground. He would always be the biggest failure of all his brothers. The stupid. The headless one... the lost one... While you healed him in silence, he reflected on it. Would any of his friends cure him like you were doing? The answer was clear and he couldn't feel more of a failure than ever. Shirtless. Sitting in the bathroom. With a girl who was out of his league. “I guess you think I'm a failure…” he whispered and closed his eye, grimacing painfully before you put that stitches on him, and yet you stopped. He looked at you and saw only pity in your eyes.

It hadn't been an easy night for either of you.

“Why would I think that?” you told him, wrinkling your face, almost in a sneer at the image he must have of you, if he thought that you thought he was a failure.

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders “I wasn't able to finish my degree, I haven't been able to keep a job for more than three months straight, and I just got beaten up for owing money in a cockfight…” he sighed and finished. smiling, almost in a pathetic way that made your heart ache, as if you had never seen him before as the human being he was, as more than just your best friend's older brother. “I'm never going to have a PhD or a girl who is always in love with me… I will never be as perfect as Aemond…” He looked straight into your eyes and you just looked at him with eyes full of tears. He had struck a chord.

He was right that you would always have a crush on Aemond. You quickly wiped away your tears and approached him again. You placed the stitch and he only pretended to moan in pain to make you laugh. “What a bad nurse you are” he whispered and made you laugh.

“You don't want to be as blind as Aemond,” you said in a whisper and he just laughed.

“Damn, he's one-eyed, what a way to say that…” he laughed, getting up from the toilet and you narrowed your eyes, separating yourself from him, ready to wash your hands in the sink. He looked at you smiling at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and you looked back at him with a half smile.

“You know that's not what I mean,” you told him and he just laughed again.

“I know, but the joke was there. I just saw the opportunity” he shrugged again and you came closer just to sniff him. He saw your face scrunching up and laughed loudly. “I should take a shower, would you like to come with me?” He asked in a joking, but suggestive tone and you just punched him in the chest, laughing for the first time that night.

“Can you take a shower, please?” you asked him and he just looked you up and down. That pretty, damaged dress. All your hair wet. You were a mess.

“Right now,” he said, leaving the bathroom, running towards his room. You didn't know whether to follow him and you ended up doing so, almost like a mother following a small child. Now you knew how Aemond felt every time he told you each of his older brother's crazy things. However, you arrived at his room to only see him with a tender smile and grabbing one of his old t-shirts. “You're soaked… and… you're going to end up catching a cold…” He offered you the shirt and that tender gesture broke your heart. Before, Aemond had always had those tender gestures with you, now... three years later... and with Alys... none of that existed.

You blushed and pushed him into the shower, laughing. How long had it been since you laughed like that?

“We're not going to watch a documentary about Ancient Valyria,” he screamed at you, while flipping through the many pay channels he had. You laughed and knelt on the couch, trying to get the controller away from him. You missed having that complicity with someone, and you wondered how you could have reached that intimate point with Aegon, wearing one of his shirts, sitting with him in the living room of his apartment... it almost seemed like you were back with Aemond and then, he came back to stretch your arm, separating the TV remote from your possible grip. You tried to grab him again, falling on top of him and Aegon just put his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face to his and... he simply kissed you, closing his eyes, while your eyes remained wide open. His lips landed on yours and he moved them energetically, feeling a kind of strange connection with you. You didn't close your eyes even once. You didn't believe what was happening, much less did you know how to react to that kiss that didn't upset you, but it didn't excite you either. How many times have you imagined Aemond kissing you on that couch while you were watching one of the documentaries he liked so much? Aegon finished and opened his eyes to only be met with your wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You looked down and he just laughed, feeling like a loser again… “Has it been that bad?” He asked, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he'd screwed up…because, that's how he always felt. That damn feeling of always screwing up.

However, you kissed him again. It was a childish and vindictive feeling, stupid and immature. You only remembered Alys's words. Maybe the problem was the same thing that Alys had told you at the entrance to that exclusive club, maybe... you just needed to get laid by the first person who had invited you to a drink, and Aegon had done much more than that.

He accepted all your kisses, feeling like a winner. He had surpassed Aemond for the first time in his life. He had the girl of his dreams and he planned to rub it in his face how good a match he was for you... Besides, you didn't see him as a loser, and that made his heart beat harder. Your kisses were proof of this.

You ended up sleeping with Aegon, without much more than a few kisses, in the same bed in his apartment, without him letting go of you all night. Hugging you and you felt a special connection with him... As if all the attention and care he needed fell on you... and, unbeknownst to you, Aegon began to think that you were his girlfriend that very night... you ended up cuddled up, with him hugging you. body, and you slept... Aegon was just a patch to alleviate your loneliness, but wasn't that what love was about?

“But… What are you doing here?” Alys closed the refrigerator door roughly and you woke up from the sleepy trance you were in. You had only gone for a glass of water to continue sleeping.

Your best friend crossed her arms. The nightgown that left little to the imagination contrasted with the old t-shirt Aegon had left you to sleep in. You were both in your underwear, although in a very different way. She looked you up and down, as if you were a real scumbag and you only spoke with the shyness that characterized you, with the fear that you had always really had of Alys, it wasn't about respect. It was about fear. She had always been better than you and had constantly reminded you of that. “I was coming for water,” you whispered. You looked at her as if she were an alien, as if you didn't want to have anything to do with her since the argument the night before, because you didn't want to see her again. Never more.

“Well, I imagine that's what you were coming for…” he told you, looking at you again, as if he were scanning you. “That shirt is Aegon's…” he whispered, grabbing one of the sleeves as if it would give him a rash and you blushed, breaking free of his grip.

“Why don't you go fuck Aemond? It's the only thing you know how to do” you whispered to her, angry, like you had never been before and she smiled contemptuously, as if everything was beginning to unfold in her head. You were angry and hurt, much more hurt than angry.

“Don't fuck with me, (Y/N). Are you fucking Aegon?” She smiled, with that smile so beautiful and evil at the same time. “Are you so pathetic that since you can't sleep with Aemond you end up fucking his loser brother? Oh really?" she smiled again.

“Leave me alone, bitch,” you said. The voice was icy and she paled. She would never have believed you capable of calling him that. “If you had been my friend, you wouldn't have fucked him,” you told her. A tear running down your face. “Because you knew I was in love with him… because you fucking knew it…” you whispered under your breath. You felt another tear running down your face. And it wasn't just because Aemond had chosen her, it was because she had always known... she had been your best friend... until that night...

“You will always be a pathetic, losing creature. “Did you want Aemond to end up with a loser like you?” She asked you and at that moment, you froze.

Aemond appeared there, without his sweater, without his eyepatch, and looked at you both as if that had been the revelation of his life... always so blind... he had heard everything and opened his mouth to say something, but you just walked out of the room. You headed towards Aegon's room and closed the door behind you. You had already made a decision.

Alys watched as her boyfriend nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Aemond…” she whispered, approaching him, trying to get him to take her into his arms again, but Aemond only pushed her away, closing his sole tightly. How could he have been so blind? Alys… Alys had always told him that you weren't interested and he… had believed her, because it was the easy way… to believe her… “Let's go to bed” she whispered, hugging him from behind, kissing his back while he tried to process everything, in complete silence. “She's always going to be a pathetic, losing creature…” she began whispering and Aemond couldn't take it anymore. It had been like this for too long.

“Go away,” he said in a firm voice and Alys stopped kissing his back. She pulled away and Aemond just turned away, not meeting her eyes. He repeated the same command “Go away.”

“But…” Alys started to speak, but Aemond just grabbed her arm and looked her straight in the eyes. His eyes seemed to have forgotten all the desire and adoration he had had for her during those three years.

“Go away,” he whispered again. At that moment he hated her, but above all he hated himself for having always been so blind. Alys left, and it took him two years away from you to clarify what he felt... He had always been selfish...

[jeankluv]

Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 13

words: 4,3k

summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as “hate” was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

ac: _3aem

tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug

notes: I wrote down all the events that I want Birdie to have and the fic might end up being 35-40 chapters long. At first I really thought it was going to be just 20 but as I kept writing chapters, more ideas came and we still have a lot unresolved things, so definitely Birdie will take a bit longer. But thank you to everyone who always comments here or ao3, y’all really make me want to keep writing, but also those who leave likes they also help and make me really happy. Also we are over 400 followers what? 😭 thank you so much ❤️

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“In love?” You questioned still resting your head on her legs.

Kyoto nodded with a smile. “Yes. The way you talked about him, it’s not a simple crush, you realize that right?” She asked.

Did you? Your heart accelerated in your chest, what you felt for Satoru was not a crush or that you simply liked him, were you in love with him? You sat on the bed, feeling a little dizzy from the sudden movement. And you took a deep breath.

“I need to talk with him and apologize for my reaction.” You tried to grab your phone but Kyoko took it from you. 

“The fact that you’re in love with him, doesn’t mean what he did was right.” You nodded. “So don’t apologize for reacting the way you did, you were hurt and that’s okay. What you both need to do is talk things out and leave your boundaries cleare, that way things can work out.” 

“Oh god Kyoko.” You throw yourself at her. “I have never been in love or even in a serious relationship, this is scary.” 

She stroked your hair gently. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you will know what to do. But remember, don't apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You slightly laughed. “And tell him, that if I find you once again crying I will kill him.” 

“My best protector.” You hugged her.

“You know I am.” She hugged you back. “You were there for me when I was at my lowest and I also want to be always with you and take care of you, because you are my best friend.” 

You felt your tears falling down your cheeks. There were not enough words to describe what Kyoko was to you and what it had meant to you that she came into your life. You have changed a lot since you met her and your world has also changed thanks to her. It really was one of the few good things you'd had for a long time, but now, that world of good things was slowly opening up and you just hoped it would keep opening up even more.

You felt your eyes closing little by little and how sleep subtly enveloped you, while you were still hugging Kyoko. 

That night you dreamed. You were able to immerse yourself in a clear world, so much so that you could feel it as real. In this landscape, you found yourself on the shores of a calm lake, whose surface shone under the soft caress of the sunlight. A familiar warmth hugged you, it was the comforting embrace of your mother's smile, a beacon of love and security, that you had long lost. And in the midst of this environment, your attention was focused on a figure kneeling near you, holding with tender care a wounded bird in their hands. The scene unfolded with such clarity and emotion that it seemed more than just a dream, as if it were a memory that your mind had wanted to eliminate from your head.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you woke up. Doubt lingered in your mind, questioning the difference between reality and a dream. Was it really a product of the dreams or a forgotten fragment of your mind? Although the images in the dream had felt real, you had not been able to see that other person's face clearly. But what was that feeling of anguish that had settled in your chest? Why did you feel so extremely agitated?

“You up?” You heard Kyoko’s sleepy voice talking, she was stretching herself next to you.

“Yeah…” You smiled softly at her. “Thanks.” You whispered.

“Don’t say it.” She sat next to you. “I’m always here for you.” She gave you a small squish in the hand.

You nodded. “And I’m always here for you too.”  You carefully rose from the comfort of your bed, feeling the stiffness in your muscles dissipate as you stretched your back. "I should start getting ready, I have class at 10." You commented.

Kyoko curled up under the covers and made a moan of reluctance. "Ugh, I just want to stay home all day." She wailed, burying her face in the pillows. “How about we skip class today?”

But you shook your head resolutely, dismissing the idea. "I have to go. I want to talk to Satoru, and if I don't show up, he might get the wrong idea. Communication is key if we want this relationship to work."

A soft smile appeared on Kyoko's lips as she looked at you in admiration. "I'm proud of you." She murmured, her voice filled with affection. “Let's go have breakfast.” With a sudden burst of energy, she jumped out of bed and took your hand, leading you into the kitchen to start the day with a shared meal.

While Kyoko busied herself preparing breakfast, you grabbed your cell phone and checked your latest notifications. There were no messages from Satoru and you understood that he was giving you the space and time you had requested. You felt grateful for his understanding.

Opening his chat, you took a look at the name you had assigned him and couldn't help but smile at how your relationship had taken a 180 degree turn in such a short time. You didn't want to lose what had just started by simply avoiding a small conversation that could clarify everything.

You to Satoru ✨

Can we talk before class today?

Placing your phone on the table, you welcomed the breakfast Kyoko had prepared for the both of you, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves at the prospect of the impending conversation with Satoru.

Kyoko, noticing the thoughtful expression on your face, asked softly. "Is everything okay?"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I was just thinking about talking to Satoru before class."

"Oh I see." Kyoko's eyes shone with understanding. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

You nodded again, appreciating Kyoko's supportive words. With every bite of breakfast, you found yourself mentally preparing for the conversation that awaited you. The need for clarity and openness with Satoru felt more pressing than ever.

After finishing breakfast, you organized the dishes together with Kyoko. Turning your head you noticed how the screen of your phone lit up. You nervously picked it up and checked what it was.

Satoru ✨

Alright, if you want I can pick you up.

You bite your thumb, hesitant about what to do, but finally decided to follow what your heart told you.

You to Satoru ✨

Sure, I still need to get ready but see you in 40 minutes?

Satoru ✨

Sure see you

With your heart pinching in your chest you locked the phone and walked back to the room. You leaned against your door and sighed deeply, trying to calm your agitated heart. 

You wanted Satoru to get there as soon as possible, you wanted to see him and clarify everything. Your heart was shaking hard thinking about Kyoko's words. It wasn't a simple crush, you were fucking in love with Satoru Gojo and that overwhelmed you in too many ways. 

First of all, the idea terrified you, the stories you knew about love never had a happy ending. Your father abandoned your mother when she was pregnant after swearing eternal love, your grandmother was also abandoned by your grandfather after he found another family. 

You didn't want to have to suffer that abandonment yourself, you had already been alone too many times, you had lost too many people you loved. You didn't want Satoru to take your heart and somehow break it. 

But on the other hand, it was exciting and it filled your heart with complete warmth. And was able to put a smile on your face.

Feeling the weight of fatigue pressing down on your limbs, you backed away from the door and headed towards your closet. As you moved around the room, the warmth of Tokyo spring filtered through the windows. Jackets and long pants gradually were becoming unnecessary as the temperature was starting to rise. 

Looking at your reflection in the mirror, a thought crossed your mind, a memory of the time you wore Kyoko's dress and how Satoru had noticed despite your limited interactions. It was a small, seemingly insignificant moment, but it remained in your memory as a testament to Satoru's care. Smiling at the memory, you finished getting ready and waited for Satoru's call to light up your cell phone, now with a black screen.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, your heart raced with anticipation and nerves tightened in your chest. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly until the familiar melody of his phone's ringtone broke the silence, lighting up the room with Satoru's name displayed on the screen: "Satoru ✨.”

“Satoru…” You greeted, your voice betraying a hint of nerves.

"Birdie..." His normally calm and confident voice wavered slightly. "I'm outside. If you're not ready, I can..."

"No." You interrupted. "I am. I'll be there in ten seconds."

"Alright." He murmured softly, the tension was palpable even through the phone.

With a quick exhale, you ended the call and got out of bed, a rush of adrenaline spurring you to get moving. Grabbing your bag, you briefly said goodbye to Kyoko before stepping out into the sunlight. As you walked out the door, your eyes met Satoru's figure leaning casually against his sleek black car, his signature dark sunglasses hiding his gaze.

With each step towards Satoru, something tightened in your chest, making it difficult to swallow the saliva that was building up in your mouth. When he heard your footsteps, Satoru looked up, and at that moment, your eyes met his.

A surge of electricity seemed to run through your entire being as his piercing blue eyes, the ones you loved so much, met yours. It was as if time slowed down, the world around you fading into insignificance as you drowned in the intensity of that shared gaze.

In that fleeting moment, everything else faded away: the sounds of the bustling city, the warmth of the sun on your skin, leaving you alone with Satoru.

When his eyes held yours, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, as if his gaze alone had the power to anchor you in the tumultuous sea of ​​emotions swirling inside you.

“Hey.” He greeted you softly.

“Hi…” You tried to greet him in the same softly way, but somehow your voice came out shaky.

For a moment, silence enveloped them both, interrupted only by the sound of the city of Tokyo getting into motion that spring morning.

Breaking the silence, Satoru pointed towards his car with a subtle nod. "We should …?"

Nodding, you got into the familiar car. As I sat in the car next to him, the engine whirred to life. You pressed your hands against your knees and let out the air accumulated in your lungs.

“Satoru…” You began but your voice was left hanging in the air when Satoru talked.

“I’m sorry…” He began, you saw how he held the wheel stronger than before. “I’m really sorry and I don’t know how to begin this. And I don’t want to make excuses because what I did was unacceptable, I crossed some boundaries that I shouldn’t have crossed and all because I thought I was doing it to help you but the truth is that I only hurt you and invaded your personal space.” He took a small break. “I would understand if you don’t want to talk or even see me again, I’m an asshole and I fucked up badly.”

The car fell silent, his eyes were fixed on the road and yours on his face. “Can you pull over?” You said.

Satoru simply nodded and in silence he pulled over, parking the car in a free space. His eyes were still looking to the front, not looking at you.

“Satoru… could you look at me.” And with puppy eyes he looked at you. “Yeah, what you did wasn’t okay and it hurt me. And I’m glad you know it was wrong and hopefully you don’t make that mistake again.” Satoru nodded in silence. “But…” You paused and looked at him, carefully and feeling the nervousness and shyness take over your body, you held his face. “I don’t want to lose this, I don't want to lose us.” You shyly smiled. “I’m glad you acknowledge what you did wrong but I don’t want this to break up.” His eyes were fixed on you, carefully watching you.

“Are you sure?” He swallowed. “It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again, I can… bare with it.” You smiled seeing his poor intent of lying.

“Could you?” You smiled.

And he shook his head. “I wouldn’t.” He got closer to you and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “Thank you…” He whispered. “I know I’m an asswhole and that I’m annoying and all that.”

“You are my all that.” You smiled, caressing his white hair. 

“Let’s skip classes.” He said against your skin. “Let’s go to 

“Can I kiss you?” He said looking at your lips and then up at your eyes. 

“Yes…” You whispered before feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

The kiss was a tender hug, soft and delicate, as if Satoru was afraid of breaking you or hurting you. His lips meeting yours with a soft caress, transmitting a silent promise of protection and tenderness. Yet despite the gentle touch, you felt a surge of warmth radiate from within you, filling you with a feeling of fullness you had never known before.

In that moment, you found yourself craving more of his touch, hungry for the warmth of his lips against yours. His hesitation only fueled your desire, igniting a fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, you surrendered to the sensation, losing yourself in the tender embrace of his lips. Every brush of skin against skin sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins, igniting a passion that burned hotter with each passing moment.

You felt alive, consumed by the intoxicating allure of his presence. It was a moment of pure happiness, where time seemed to stop and the world faded away, where it was just the two of you.

You felt an avalanche of emotions cascading through you, a mix of desire, and vulnerability.

When the kiss finally broke, a breathless moment remained between you, your labored breaths mixing together to form one. Satoru's gaze, now softened but full of intensity, reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

With a calming breath, your voice was a mere whisper against the growing sound of your racing heart. "Satoru..."

He met your gaze intently, his eyes searching yours for the words that threatened to leave your lips.

"I want to meet you." You confessed, your voice shaking slightly with vulnerability. "Everything about you."

A slight smile appeared at the corners of Satoru's lips. "And I want to show you." He responded, raising his hand to gently caress your face.

Under his soft touch you closed your eyes and let yourself be caressed, you let yourself be loved for the first time in a long time. He left a small kiss on your lips before turning back to the wheel.

“Let’s go to the beach the day after tomorrow.” Satoru smiled at you and you smiled back at him. 

“Why then?” You wondered looking at him.

“Oh I heard the weather will be good then.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay…” You smiled. “It’s a date then?” 

“Yeah…” He softly whispered. “Thank you birdie.” 

You shook your head and your shoulders. “You need to stop thanking me Satoru. Now let’s go to class.” 

Satoru nodded and started the car. With a smile on your lips, you felt your heart beating steadily again, and the cloud that had been lingering in your head disappeared completely. The road became familiar, and soon Satoru parked the car in front of your college.

You hesitated for a second as you got out of the car and walked next to him, but Satoru grabbed your hand with a reassuring smile. You felt everyone's eyes on you and heard the whispers as they commented on the scene unfolding before them. Satoru walked proudly, holding your hand, and didn't let go until you reached your class. That day you weren’t sharing any classes so that was your goodbye spot.

As you approached the classroom door, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you after class, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a surge of confidence from his support. "Okay."

He leaned in, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good luck in class, birdie."

You watched as he walked away. Turning to enter the classroom, you noticed a few lingering glances and whispers from your classmates, but the warmth of Satoru's presence lingered with you, making it easier to ignore them.

Taking your seat, you focused on the lecture. As you left your first class, you were greeted by the smiling face of Kyoko, who was waiting for you leaning against one of the walls outside your classroom. With a grin, she approached you.

"And well? Have you already spoken?" She asked eagerly, falling into step beside you. "C'mon, tell me!"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips as you recounted the recent events. "We fixed everything, and in two days, we're going to the beach.” You announced, unable to contain your excitement. "As a date."

Kyoko's eyes widened in excitement, and she let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "Oh my gosh, that's amazing!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her joy. "I'm so happy for you!"

You couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, feeling grateful to have such a supportive friend by your side. Kyoko kept on jumping around winning the curious eyes of everyone surrounding both of you.

“You know what it means right?” She smirked.

“What?” You said with a funny tone on your voice.

“Double dates!” She made a small dance. “Oh what could we do? We could go to Kyoto or Okinawa during the summer break!” 

“A girl works you know?” 

“And that girl deserves some vacations you know?” She replied back. “C’mon imagine expending some days in Okinawa, the four of us, on the beach.” She started daydreaming and you rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you want to see your man shirtless and more.” 

“Geez Kyoko.” You rolled your eyes. 

She laughed and followed your steps. “Sorry, sorry but you know?” You looked at her. “Suguru has his whole arm tattooed, ugh when I tell you that is so sexy, when he is without...” 

“Please Kyoko, I don't want any more information about your private relationship with Suguru.” 

“Okay, I will stop.” She laughed. “But hey!” You looked at her from over your shoulder. “I’m so happy for you.”

“And I’m happy for you.” You smiled back at her. 

“Can’t believe we used to think they were dating.” Kyoko recalled the time when you both thought Satoru and Suguru were dating and you chuckled at it.

Satoru Gojo POV

“Did you fix it?” Shoko raised her eyebrow.

“I did, we are good okay?” He sighed. “I won’t fuck things up like that again.”

“Well done man.” Suguru raised his thumb nodding his head. “So what now?” He raised his eyebrows while taking a sip of his tea.

“We are going on a date in two days.” Satoru smiled with confidence.

“Are you planning on asking her to be your girlfriend?” Shoko questioned.

“I… I guess so.” He shrugged.

Shoko looked at Satoru and then at Suguru. “What’s up with him?” 

Suguru shook his head with a smile. “He has never done that before.” 

“What?” Shoko gasped surprised. “But I have seen you dating before.” 

“Yeah, but it was different. We hung around, had fun and I guess we assumed we were in a relationship.” Satoru moved his hands around, trying to explain himself. “But I never sat down and asked anyone to date.” 

“And you are nervous.” Shoko mischievously smiled. “Oh my god!” She laughed. “The great Satoru Gojo is nervous.” 

“Shoko shut up.” He said embarrassed. 

“No, no, I really like this.” She laughed. “Oh god I’m so happy to see this side of you.” 

“Shoko enough.” Suguru laughed. 

“Suguru admit it, you are also loving it.” She smirked.

“Don’t Suguru.” He warned him. 

“I have to say it, I like seeing this side of you.” Suguru laughed alongside his friend.

“You know, I hate both of you.” Satoru stood up. “You.” He pointed at Suguru. “We have practice so get your ass up if you don’t want to get scolded.”

Suguru chuckled and stood up. “See you Shoko.”

“See ya!” Shoko waved her hand at her two friends.

Satoru and Suguru walked side by side. With their training backpacks slung over their shoulders, Satoru and Suguru took giant steps towards the basketball court. The familiar, slightly musty smell of the gym greeted them as they entered, a nostalgic reminder of the countless hours they spent training there. The freshmen were already working hard, performing exercises as Coach Yaga's booming voice echoed through the space, urging them to try harder.

Satoru and Suguru exchanged amused glances, their eyes reflecting shared memories of their own experiences as freshmen. They remembered well the intense sessions and the coach's unwavering expectations. 

"It seems like yesterday we were the ones who were yelled at." Satoru reflected, with a smile on his lips.

"Yeah." Suguru agreed, chuckling. “Coach Yaga hasn’t changed in the slightest. He's still as intense as ever."

As they walked towards the court, Yuji greeted them, putting aside his training, earning a shout from the coach. 

Coach Yaga turned his head and saw them. "Gojo, Geto, stop standing there and get to work! Warm up with the others!"

Satoru waved playfully, earning a quizzical look from the trainer, and joined the exercises with Suguru at his side.

“Captain Gojo!” A voice resounded in the distance.

Satoru looked up to see Haibara's figure running towards him, followed closely by Nanami. Upon reaching them, Haibara knelt before Satoru, his expression serious and apologetic.

"I'm so sorry if by not keeping my mouth shut I've ruined your relationship, Captain Gojo!" Haibara blurred, his voice filled with remorse.

Satoru looked embarrassed to the side of him, looking at Suguru, who was trying to suppress a laugh. "Haibara, please get up." Satoru said, his tone soft but firm.

Haibara did as Satoru asked, slowly getting up but still looking worried. 

"Nothing has happened." He tried to calm him down, Satoru. "And in any case, it would be my fault if the relationship had gone sour. Birdie and I worked it out." I gave Haibara a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “The truth is, you did well Haibara. I'm sorry for putting you in that situation.” This time it was Satoru who bowed slightly.

Haibara smiled at Satoru. “It’s okay captain, I’m glad you two fixed everything.” 

“So you and the girl you were with the other day at the club are finally dating?” Yuji exclaimed. “Oh she was really nice and funny.” 

Satoru caught a bit trying to keep himself calm. “Not yet.” Satoru murmured.

“Oh but they were really nicely kissing and holding hands after getting out of the car.” A voice spoke. 

Satoru rolled his eyes upon recognizing the voice and looked at him indifferently. “Sukuna, why do you care about what I do?” 

Sukuna laughed as he approached the group. “Excuse me Gojo, it's hard not to see you.” 

Satoru sighed and rested his hand on his hip. "What are you doing here? "It's been more than a year since he expelled you from the club." 

“Can't I come see my favorite nephew?” He tilted his head, directing his gaze to Yuji.

Yuji rolled his eyes. “I didn’t want to see you here.” 

“Neither did I want to come here brat, but your father called me and told me to hang you this.” He said throwing him a bag. “Anyways Gojo is good to see you.” He smirked leaving the group.

“Sometimes I wonder how you two are family.” Yuta mumbled. 

“Don’t remind me.” Yuji protested. “He is my uncle but we are so close in age that sometimes he is like an annoying older brother.”

"Yuji, do you know if Sukuna has played on any team again?" Satoru asked, still staring at the door where he had left. 

Yuji shook his shoulders. “I think so, but I'm not sure. He never tells me anything.” 

“Captain, are you worried that Sukuna has been signed to another team?” Megumi asked. 

“A little, little he cared about the sanction they gave him last year when he broke Kamo’s fingers from Kyoto college.” Satoru sighed and looked at Suguru. “I'm afraid he won't care again and this time he'll do something to one of the team.” 

“He probably still has a lot of resentment from last year.” Suguru remembered this time and Satoru nodded heavily.

“Well…” Satoru stretched himself. “We will handle it once it comes, right?” He smiled. “Besides, we are the best. There is nothing to worry about.” 

Suguru chuckled and shook his head. "You're right. Now let's train guys." He said he and everyone got moving. 

But Satoru stayed in his place still feeling a little anguish in his stomach. Shaking his head, he walked onto the basketball court and began training with the rest of his teammates.

Final notes: Birdie and Satoru fixing everything, bc communication is the key. It always frustrates me when I read in a book or a series how things get complicated between the characters due to lack of communication, that's why I didn't want to prolong the small conflict between them and have them fix things like adults, talking.

— comment if you want to be tagged

🏷️: @lavender-hvze , @crybabytoru , @sanriosatoru , @norvacaine , @sadmonke , @faetoraa , @hexipessimistic , @gojoful , @kitzusune , @sh0jun , @manyno , @ropickle , @lolsasuke , @milk3evee , crunchypotatoooooooooo , @catobsessedlady , @zoeyflower , @starlostwish , @tinydonkeysforlife , @mimisq11341 , @n1vi

[in-my-loki-feels]

20 Questions with a Fanfic Author

I think I may have done something like this once but it feels like it was a while ago so hopefully this isn't repetitive. It's always fun to look back on my writing, so thank you for the tags @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @andthekitchensinkao3 @kcscribbler and @lokimobius!

1. How many works on AO3?

I have 59 fics! (and boy does it irk me not to have a nice round number. I should've waited to do this until after my next fic.🤣)

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

622,756 words

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

This one feels skewed because they're all from my last fandom, which is the largest and most active I've ever been a part of. (Also, three of the below were event fics, which always get more circulation.)

Found: Extremely Friendly Fox lost whenever you go dying of thirst A bridge in the dark Ember burning low

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently I'm writing for Loki and (technically) Crimson Peak x Bridgerton. (More on that later. 🤭) In the past, I've written for Assassin's Creed 2, XMFC, CA:TWS, and Overwatch, to name a few.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do my absolute best, though I do fall behind depending on my current energy levels. I greatly appreciate any kind of comment and I want to respond to show my thanks to anyone who took the time to leave one. <3

6. Angstiest Ending?

It's not on ao3 but there is one fic (technically a series of vignettes) that is the angstiest shit I've ever written and every time I remember and go back to read it, I get depressed. It's canon's fault! (And the sad songs I was writing for.)

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

How to answer this when pretty much everything I write has a happy ending, lol. I guess I'll say A Desperate Play for Control because it's a long fic that's angsty at times but has a definitive, sappy-as-hell, happy ending. 💚🧡

8. Do you get hate?

I don't think I have, though I have gotten critical comments that missed the point of a fic.

9. Do you write smut?

Boy howdy, do I ever. 29 fics worth. 😂

10. Do you write crossovers?

Have you heard the good word about Sharperton?? 🤣 Take Sir Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak, throw him into the arms of Benedict Bridgerton, and you've got yourself a crossover!

I did also one write a very silly Prometheus/XMFC crossover of sorts.

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I've had them cross-posted to other sites without permission, which I don't love.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a couple of people ask if they can translate a fic and that's always so flattering.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic?

I'm doing so now! @silentxsymphony and I are deep in the mines of our Sharperton agenda.

I would also count my Avengers AU under this since @wolfpup026 and I bounced ideas back and forth.

14. All time favourite ship?

An impossible question! I have favorites that I love even 20+ years on, so it doesn't feel fair to compare those to ones I've only recently fallen for, like Lokius. They're good ships, Brent.

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Probably anything from previous fandoms. I have some ideas I still really like but my reasons for disconnecting from one particular fandom kind of affected my love of writing for that ship.

The best answer for this is probably the XMFC Cherik werewolf fic.

16. Writing strengths?

Sappy endings? Porn with feelings? Characters actually talking things out instead of ignoring each other? (I'm bad at this type of question.🙈)

17. Writing Weaknesses?

Descriptions, especially scenery and clothing. They don't come naturally to me so I have to force myself to go back and figure out what people are wearing and what's around them, aside from anything characters have interacted with in that scene.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

*sweats in AC2 fics* 😅 As a reader, it does sometimes frustrate me if there's a lot of text in another language and the meaning isn't obvious. Even when authors try to use links to take you to the bottom of the fic for the translation, and then back up, it disrupts my immersion, which affects my enjoyment of the fic. I sometimes just gloss over that text and check the translations at the end.

As a writer, I'm guilty of it. I used a sprinkling of Italian in my Assassin's Creed fics because it was so prevalent in the games. I think the meaning was usually obvious. There was one fic where I wanted to have characters speaking in Italian and English but not understanding each other, so for that one I said, "Consider the default Italian. Anything in English will be in []."

19. First fandom you wrote for?

My brain is mush so my early fics all kind of jumble together. I think it might have been something for Batman: The Animated series, but only a scene or two. The first full fic was either Star Wars or The X-Files.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Another impossible question! I'm going to say it's between A Desperate Play for Control and Love What's Gone. For the former, that might be the largest rewrite of canon events I've tackled (usually my AU's are very different) and it was so creatively exciting and rewarding to work with @wolfpup026.

For the latter, I don't feel like the kind of author to tackle big themes (like grief) in my fics, and I'm always claiming I don't write angst, but I'm really proud of how that one turned out. 🥹 I'm usually just trying to make the dolls kiss!

This turned into a long post so I'm not going to tag anyone. If you reached the end and want to answer the questions, feel free to tag me!

[bbkoolkatz]

dividers by @cafekitsune

»»————> drink from the leche of sirens...

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, as this is an nsfw space!

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about me♥︎ : name's blu & I am insane...maybe... idk...

some posts may look familiar. that's because I deleted my previous account @/bratzbrat RIP and created this one.

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Most of my writing is not for the faint of heart, though I try to tone it down a bit.... Sometimes... So please read with caution and pay attention to warnings!

»»————> strangle the fear of deciding...

©allrightsreserved. @/bbkoolkatz on Tumblr. please do not copy, translate, or upload my content to any other platform without my explicit permission. I don't claim ownership of the characters, stories, or events from the canon materials I use, but the original ideas and works I've created are mine.

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if you decide that you will be a frequent anon, leave an emoji at the end of your statement/request! eg; I'd like to request blah blah blah... - 💅

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I will not tolerate any kink shaming on my blog this is a safe space!

minors plz do not interact.

do not spam likes!

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pay attention to warnings!

I will not write for characters that are canonly under 20 years of age!

I won't and don't age anyone or anything up! if there is a timeskip version of them, I'll work with that.

if I haven't written a character... don't request that character.

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be respectful in my comments. any unsolicited hate will be removed.

any harassment, hate speech, or inappropriate behavior is not welcome on my blog. keep that to urself thank you very much.

plz read warnings before engaging with my works. there may be some disturbing contents.

all my works is for this blog only. do not; copy, translate, claim it as your own, or feed it into AI. {reblogs are all good tho}

if I am used as inspiration then leave a tag! I'd love to read/see it.

all requests made via asks will be posted for public viewing. {if you'd like to request something personal, you can do so on Ko-fi!}

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[late-to-the-party-81]

A Court of Screens and Squishmallows

AN: So back earlier in the year, when I had my 1.5k follower event, you all voted for a third part to the CamBoy Sam story, meaning it becomes a series. With other challenges, plus a case of writer’s block, this took a lot longer to get to than planned, but better late than never.

This is also dedicated to my babies, @mrs-elsie-barnes and @christywrites.

Please feel free to send asks about Camboy Sam and Squishy.

Unbeta’d but thank you to @endlesstwanted for letting me bounce ideas.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to be on my tag list, then please click here

Master List | Series Master List 

Summary: Part of your and Sam’s relationship is you helping him plan his live streams and then watching them on your laptop in real time. This time, you got to plan his entire outfit, and if it happens to be based on your favourite book boyfriend you can be forgiven for being a little excited…

Relationship: CamBoy! Sam Wilson x Room Mate! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

CW: Explicit Sexual Content (Masturbation, M & F), Implied Sexual Content, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Domestic Fluff, Banter, Established relationship, Sam Wilson is a hedonist, Fantasies.

It’s not as though you’d been a shy, retiring virgin when you met and got together with Sam - far from it - but since being with him you’d definitely had your eyes opened to how boring and mediocre sex had been in your previous relationships. And while, yes, sex wasn’t the be all and end all of a relationship, that early relationship spark - that initial burst of lust - was still burning brightly. That fire, first stoked into life in a dingy nightclub as you watched a sexy camboy gyrate and pleasure himself through your friend’s phone screen, still licked under your skin every time Sam smiled at you, that mischievous twinkle in eye. Together you’d explored so many facets of your own sexuality that you’d never even considered.

You’d never pegged yourself as a voyeur, but yet, twice a week, you devoured Sam’s exhibitionist performances from your shared room despite him being just down the hall in his studio - his old bedroom. And speaking of pegging… there was something you’d never imagined yourself doing either, but you rather enjoyed it, reducing Sam to a whimpering, wrung out mess. Mirrors were also good. And toys. So many toys. You adored how Sam wasn’t intimidated by the use of toys, seeing them as tools to help enhance and prolong pleasure and not as any kind of comment on his masculinity.

The only downside to your relationship was having to move your beloved Squishmallow collection to the lounge - there was no way you could do the dirty with them staring at you with their innocent little eyes.

As you shut the apartment door behind you, and made your way to the bathroom to wash off the day leaving a trail of clothes in your wake, you couldn’t help but smile as you remember Sam’s joy on the delivery of the last package of items he’d ordered from the adult store. Most of the contents had been for his shows, thongs, strokers and vibes, but he’d slipped in a couple of extras and had wasted no time in riling you up so he could use them on you, over and over until you’d had to tap out. You’d had to explain away your aches and pains as overexertion from a gym session to your work colleagues the following day. From the grins thrown your way, you weren’t sure they’d been convinced.

The hot water from the shower head washed over your body, soothing the stress that only came from participating in meetings that could have been emails, and you reached for your washcloth and favourite shower gel. The gentle, delicate scent filled the bathroom and you hummed a random tune to yourself. It was Friday night and Sam had one of his scheduled live-streams. He’d be done by 9.30pm and then he’d be all yours for the weekend and you couldn’t wait. Tomorrow you had a day out planned - a morning at the farmer’s market and then an afternoon’s walk through the hills with a picnic made from their purchases. Sunday would probably be a combination of lazy and domestic, because unfortunately there were always chores to do. You were hoping to persuade Sam to do the laundry if you offered to go grocery shopping and you weren’t above pulling out a few sexual bribes if you had to. You hated laundry - you and the washer just didn’t get on and the less said about the drier the better.

First, however, there was this evening, and as you walked through to your bedroom, your towel wrapped tight around your body, you thought about all the preparations that needed to be made. You’d already planned a light supper that wouldn’t fill him up too much, and as you were home first, you’d boot up his computer and check the camera connection. Luckily, as the room was now his full time studio and didn’t have to do double duty as a sleeping space, he’d been able to set up the backdrop, set dressing, camera and lights last night. You just needed to grab your own laptop so you could watch the show play out. Maybe you’d get out a toy or two just to help yourself along until Sam finished and came to join you. 

That was always your favourite part of a streaming night - watching your man perform and display himself for the lustful eyes of his subscribers, knowing that when the camera turned off it was your bed he came to. Your body that his wrapped around. The pair of you knew each other inside and out, forward, backward and upside down, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Caught up in your musings, you didn’t register Sam’s return until his spandex covered, slightly sweaty body plastered itself to your back. “Eeewww,” you squealed and you fought your way out of his loose grip as he chuckled in your ear. Unfortunately, your towel didn’t survive the struggle and you let out a huff of amused frustration as it landed on the floor with a soft thump.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Sam joked. “I just appear and your clothes just fall off. It’s a superpower.” 

So cocky, you thought. Good thing he’s sexy as hell. You still rolled your eyes at him before purposefully turning and bending over to pick the errant fluffy cotton up from the ground. You heard his strangled groan and smiled to yourself.

“Squishy. Fuck. Why you gotta do that to me? Maybe I should sack off the stream and just take you to bed right now?” As you straightened and turned back, he took a step toward you. However, you held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nuh-uh, buster. First off, you are sticky and gross and need your own shower. Secondly, if I don’t get to see you in that outfit and get my voyeurism fix, then I won’t be happy.”

Sam smiled back slyly and gripped the hem of his cycling top. With a sway in his hips, a move you recognised only too well, he slowly pulled the skin tight fabric up. As he bared his torso, he rolled his abs, and despite your best intentions you couldn’t draw your gaze away. Which meant you didn’t see the balled up, sweaty top making its way towards you until it hit you in the face.

Your affronted shout was just met with a hearty belly laugh as your boyfriend shed his clothes across the floor as he took himself for his own ablutions. “You’re lucky I love your dumb ass,” you shouted at his departing, and frankly disgustingly attractive, posterior. Sam just flipped you the bird and you snorted. Fuck, you loved him so much it was nauseating.

Slipping into a lacy bralet with matching panties, you left the bedroom and made your way to the studio. The backdrop, made to look like stone walls that you’d find in a castle in Europe, hung from the back wall, and in front of it a large chair that the pair of you had worked on to make it resemble a throne. You could also see the zipped garment bag, an unusual bulge to it indicating that it wasn’t just a suit inside. You really hoped your vision had come together as well as you imagined it. You smiled, just thinking about what was to come, and crossed over to the computer with a swing in your step. Once you’d powered it up, you switched on the lights that were already aimed at the ‘stage’. Satisfied that you’d done as much as you could to help Sam prepare, you made your way into the kitchen.

After taking all of your dinner ingredients out of the fridge, you decided to make you both a cup of tea as well. You put the kettle on the stove and then reached down your mugs from the cupboard, unable to keep the soft smile from your face as you did so. Your fingers traced over the handle of Sam’s mug, the silly approximation of a bicycle being the thing that made you realise what had been  - literally - in front of you.

When Sam hugged you behind this time, it was a far more pleasant and welcome experience. The clean smell of his own shower gel surrounded you as much as the man himself did. Yes, his skin was still damp, but as it was with water and not sweat, so you didn’t mind. 

“You looking forward to tonight then, baby?” His voice was a deep purr in your ear and your core clenched in response to his laden words. Somehow you managed to drag yourself from his embrace, shooting him a smile over your shoulder as you went to pour the hot water into your mugs.

“I always look forward to your streams.”

“But this is the first one where you a hundred percent picked the outfit.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been totally mean not letting me see it all put together.” You handed him his drink and looked at him, still a little in awe of his beauty as he leant against the side of the island, with droplets of water still dotted over his skin and only a small, white towel wrapped around his waist.

“Can you blame me for wanting to make an impact,” he responded, right eyebrow slightly raised.

You leant forward, pressing your lips against his softly, tasting the camomille lingering on them. “I thought it was my turn with the paddle,” you teased and enjoyed the brief moment of satisfaction as Sam’s eyes went large before he started to chuckle. 

“Whatever you want, Squishy. You know it’s all good to me.”

You adored the way the two of you could tease and joke with each other. “Hhmm, I’ll keep that in mind for later on then. But for now,” you pushed a plate across the island toward him, “you need to eat so you have enough energy for what I’m gonna want to put you through after your stream finishes.”

With a grin splitting his face, Sam saluted you before picking up the plate of cajun chicken salad. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be ready for action, ma’am.” He sauntered - fucking sauntered - over to the couch and placed his mug on the coffee table. He also spread his legs, letting his towel fall open and giving you a glimpse of everything going on under there, absolutely paying you back for your earlier teasing. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, then picked up your own plate and went to join him.

As the pair of you ate and drank, you shot the shit about your respective days and your plans for the following day.

“Ooo,” Sam exclaimed, “do you think they’ll have those little pastries again? The ones with the sour cherries and the vanilla cream stuff?”

“Creme patissiére? I hope so. They were so delicious last time. But I want some of the sour-dough bread, and the goat’s cheese. And the onion relish…”

Sam laughed at your enraptured food based ramblings. “I’ll make sure to go past the ATM on the way, shall I?” You elbowed him and stuck out your tongue, eliciting more laughter. Eventually though, 7pm rolled around and Sam excused himself with a soft lingering kiss that left your fingers and toes tingling with anticipation.

As he went into his studio, you busied yourself by tidying up after your meal, and preparing a snack platter for later on - you were both likely to be peckish after you’d worn yourselves out. Then you had to retrieve all of your strewn clothes and move them to the washer. Why either of you had thought that undressing as you walked was a good idea, you didn’t know. With the chores done, you returned to your bedroom, with five minutes to spare - just enough time to switch on your own laptop and load up Sam’s subscriber page. As the wait screen with its countdown timer appeared, you settled on the bed and drew your trusty vibrator out from the drawer at the side of the bed.

Then it was show time.

The backdrop and throne appeared in front of you, with some old-timey, almost ‘Ren Faire’ like, music playing in the background, but your attention was quickly diverted when you caught sight of part of Sam’s costume making its way into shot. Black leather arched into view, pulled taught and shaped like a giant bat’s wing. You squeezed your thighs together and leant a little closer to the screen. As Sam himself moved into frame, you let out an involuntary whimper. Black leather pants were moulded to his legs, ass and crotch - there was no hiding what was going on down there - and his upper body was encased in a black, lace necked shirt. The cord was loose, leaving the shirt wide open, giving a frankly scandalous view of the upper curves of his pecs and the sleeves - oh god, the sleeves! - were rolled up to just before his elbows. Over the shirt was a leather harness, with shiny chrome buckles and other decorative elements. That’s what the fake wings were attached to, but it still made a statement. A leather effect half mask covered Sam’s face from the nose up, however his eyes still glittered out of it like dark precious gems that, even through the camera, seemed to shine a light on the very essence of your soul. He’d even gone as far to attach fake ear tips, giving him an even more other-worldy appearance. He looked like every wet dream you’d ever had.

“There you are, little mortal…”

You almost combusted at his dark tone, but Sam acted as though it was nothing and reached out to the side to bring a goblet into the shot with him. He took a slow drink, never drawing his eyes away from the camera. His strong fingers, covered in rings, gripped the metal neck of the drinking vessel, and when he pulled it away from his mouth, the sheen of red wine could be seen on his lips. His tongue poked out, wiping away the residue and from your bed your breath hitched with need. He hadn’t said anything, but the power in his stance - his demeanor - had you flooding your panties. 

He placed the goblet down, just out of view, and trailed one beringed hand down his shirt, the light reflecting off the jewellery, a poor mimic of the sparkle that was in his eyes. His long fingers grazed over the bulge in his pants and you saw his cock twitch under the restriction of the material. He did it again, a moan leaving his lips and his eyelids fluttering. Without really thinking about it, you picked up your vibe, turning it onto its lowest setting, and began tracing it over your damp underwear. Sam’s hands moved to his belt, and he deftly unbuckled it before pulling out of the loops quickly with one hand. You pressed the vibe against yourself more firmly. 

There was a soft thunk as the belt dropped to the floor and Sam gave a predatory smile to the camera as he unbuttoned his fly. There was enough of a view of his skin and the hair of his happy trail to make it clear he had no underwear on. You watched as he slid his hand inside, cupping himself. He prolonged the eye contact as he stroked himself, teasing you - and his audience - with brief glimpses of the head of his cock.

He picked up the goblet once again and walked backwards until he reached the ‘throne’, whereupon he sat upon it insouciantly, lounging against its tall back. You wondered what he was thinking about as he put on his show. Was he imagining you standing in front of him, putting on some display of your own for his idle pleasure? He took another drink of wine then lazily pulled his cock from his pants. He stroked it slowly, from root to tip and back up again. From the sheen you could tell he’d lubed his cock up before he started, and you wished he was here right now, so you could take him in your mouth. Instead you just moved your vibe inside your panties.

“Join me,” he entreated with a purr, encouraging you to touch yourself even more.

This stream was so unlike Sam’s previous one. In those he’d been obviously performing - every move was calculated to titillate , but this was different. It was as though he was the viewer, watching his hundreds of fans touching themselves in the hope of being touched by him in return. He groaned and closed his eyes again, pleasuring himself with a firmer grip and a twist to his wrist. He was the epitome of a ruler - a High Lord or a General - who did as he pleased. The dominant aura he exuded was heady, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was something the pair you should explore further.

Jolts of pleasure arced through you as you pinched and rolled at your nipples. It was getting more difficult to hold yourself back as you watched Sam ‘watching’ you. And then he spoke again.

“That’s it, darling. Just like that. I love watching you touch yourself for me.”

Fuck! It wasn’t that dirty talk was alien to the pair of you - you’d indulged in it on numerous occasions, but the outfit, his demeanor. Was this awakening something within you?

“Keep going, sweetheart. Show me how pretty you look. I bet you wish I was touching you back.” 

Your breathing picked up and your skin was clammy. You were so close - closer than you normally got while watching him. Your vibrator slid effortlessly through your folds, nudging your engorged clit with each pass as you watched Sam pleasure himself. You had the fleeting thought about whether his other subscribers felt the intimacy in this, but quickly returned to thoughts of your own pleasure and how, soon, Sam would be in this room, kissing you. Touching you. Fucking you.

You came. Your body tensed and tingles shot up and down your body from head to toe. Somehow though, over your own cries of release, you heard the soft grunt that Sam reserved for his on-screen orgasms. He was still regarding you through the camera lens, his milky spend splattering over the leather of his pants and his lower lip looking especially plush - he must have bitten it when he came.

Sam took a deep gulp from his goblet, before tucking himself back into his pants, although he didn’t fasten them. Then, somehow not trembling with the aftershocks of his pleasure, he rose to his feet and stalked back toward the camera.

“Thank you, darling,” he said in a low voice. “I enjoyed that.” And that was that. He walked off out of frame and the screen went dark.

“Fuck me,” you muttered under your breath and tried to regain some of your equilibrium. If he was that hot from the other side of your apartment, what was going to be like in a few minutes when he appeared in the room? Speaking of which…

You somehow managed to move your laptop onto the floor just as you heard footsteps coming down the hall, accompanied by the unusual sounds of something bouncing off the walls and Sam’s soft curses. “Goddamn wings. Too fucking wide.” You giggled. Somehow this was both unserious and sexy at the same time.

The door to your room burst open and Sam - turned sideways - walked through. How was he hotter-looking in the flesh? His wings swept out behind him, partially blocking out the light from the hallway and making him seem even more imposing. You were glad he’d ditched the mask though - you loved seeing his full facial expressions.

You reclined on the bed with a coy smile, leaning back on your elbows. “Very Illyrian coded,” you purred. 

“Did you enjoy that, darling?” Sam stepped closer, looming over you, and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. He bent forward and rested his hands on the mattress either side of your legs.

“I did. Very much, my Lord.” You hoped you weren’t overdoing the coquettishness, but it wasn’t every day that you managed to convince your real boyfriend to dress up like one of your book boyfriends, and you planned to wring every last bit of enjoyment from it.

“What do you think about my big… wingspan?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t hold back your giggle at the silly double entendre.

“It provided a lot of… stimulation,” you countered and he smiled broadly at you.

“Well I hope you didn’t wear yourself out too much. I’m not done with you yet, mortal” He dropped to his knees and you peered down at him owlishly, before letting out a shriek, part surprise and part excitement, as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you towards him. As his tongue started to trace over your lace covered core, the leather of his wings brushed tantalisingly over your knee, and your last coherent thought was whether he’d be up for fucking you against the wall as you held onto his harness…

Tag list: @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds,

@apenny4thots, @king814318

@km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989, @kombatfather1796

[damoselcastel]

Tagged by the glamorous, @mannatea!

How many works do you have on AO3?

66 fics (but there are more under Anon, that I'll never tell)

What's your total AO3 word count?

500,503

Your Top 5 stories by kudos

Fire Emblem fics, various games

(I shouldn't be surprised 3H stomps FE14)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, love to! Although on chaptered works I have a rule for myself- gotta get an update posted before I can respond to previous chapter's comments. It's an attempt at an incentive.

Do you write crossovers?

One of my oldest fics was taking FF7 characters and moving them into a hard sci-fi setting (like, space exploration/alien planets). I still enjoy the mental puzzle of fitting together disparate elements, but am more likely to AU these days. Here's an ultra short Dragon Age/FE14 crossover ficlet.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep, honestly PWP can be good writer's -block breakers for me. But fully admit, the plotty smut is more fun. It's usually about exploring a particular ship's chemistry.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know. Maybe? I remember years before AI was a thing, I'd get contacted about turning a fic into OW...but by these shady vanity presses? Was weird considering the particular fic was extremely unfinished and 2 chapters long.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Totally, I think my first ever was over email with my Jr High bff for Escaflowne (our shared fandom). For posted, the generous @mrmissmrsrandom has been collaborating with me through RPs, and it's been a lot of fun. Building the Dancing verse, I think is the most steady cowriting I've done.

What's your all time favorite ship?

My OTP tag, and I once sailed the (Marx)Xander/Hinoka ship as the sole fandom captain in the early FE14 fanfic days.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but probably never will?

My FE14 longfic Into A Walled Garden. But I fully confess, since I formed my characterization/opinions based on a fanfic translation of Fire Emblem If's Japanese script, my stuff must feel OOC if compared to Treehouse's localization-- which killed a lot of fandom motivation for me. (I'm having OW thoughts where I write the OTP under different names)

What are your writing strengths?

Pathos (getting those emotional plot hits in), dialogue (especially between two charas), descriptive language (been called poetic, for prose), cultural exchange/clash (esp. within romance), and worldbuilding (its just fascinating).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Being too wordy, purple prose... and sometimes when I hit writer's block, I just- can't get over it. I admit, I should probably do more hard outlining, but my motivation can get very negatively effected by IRL stresses (and then, I just don't carve out time).

A different weakness is, having weirdo ship tastes and focusing on stuff that seems to be FAR from popular? Like, I've accepted it but sometimes I wish I could get behind the big fandom-moving popular ships- but almost always my contrarian tastes plain don't vibe with those (rarepair cake baking for life)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet, but want to?

Been thinking about 3H's Nabateans.... a Catherine/Rhea post-AM ship fic, or post-VW Seteth surviving Morphis naturalists, or pre-game Flayn having to deal with the cult of the Western Church. Some very different (and two non-shippy) ideas that I like, but haven't found the motivation/time for.

I'd also like to do more non-FE fics, buuuut I guess the ideas tend to grab me less. Got a really good Jinshi/Maomao premise I hope can get postable someday.

What's your favorite fic that you've written?

For a long time Bird's Milk was my fav because I wrote it in one afternoon with little problem, and I adore the spinoff @flutterbatwrites wrote for the AU verse. But, my new fav is probably Shelter From the Storm because the premise for that fic lived so dang long inside my head, so was great to get it written out and see other FE10 fans emerge from the woodwork for it. ...for a fic AFTER 2020 (the year that lives in infamy) I'd say take a gander at Daemoni, cause it's a monster-bender premise I've had a lot of fun with.

Tagging @mrmissmrsrandom , @dithorba , @flutterbatwrites , @hiboudeluxe , @fury-brand and anyone who sees and wants to (also reverse is true, don't wanna don't do)

[unicornfairycat]

I wanna hear abt your Shinbaku ideas!!

(Also the way my ass is working on that wip post and I was thinking abt tagging you oops lmaoo)

Thank you 💛 strap yourself in, there's a few

(also that's so real haha I feel that, can't wait to see what wips you have ^^)

My shinbaku ideas wip is a doc i made back in 2022. It was my brainstorming doc for the ShinBaku Big Bang 2023. I remember not feeling anything well enough to start writing it until I settled on my Artist/Lit Student AU

(also, again, I think I was still stuck in a major writer's block during the time ahh)

However, there's some fun ideas that I am now coming back to.

Examples of what's in that particular wip

Radio Show hosts with quirks! 3.1 Radio Show as alternative Job, no U.A. → Katsuki loves to talk a lot and despite having gotten a strong quirk, his attitude robs him of the possibility of becoming a hero. He stops using his quirk and therefore doesn’t lose his hearing. To prove to people that despite having struggles with his hearing and attitude he'd be wildly popular, he goes into radio journalism and interns with the closest person to the heroes, Present Mic. → Hitoshi, who's been told he'd be a villain, wants to prove people wrong by not becoming a hero, but a radio show host with his quirk. It’s tough for him and moat shows do not wish to train him. He finds a willing host in Mic and once he's finished, he starts his own show. → Katsuki and Hitoshi miss one another during internship but after trying and failing with another radio show, Katsuki goes back to Mic's place where he meets Hitoshi. → their banter and chemistry is undeniable and Mic thinks Hitoshi lacks something by himself, deducing it must be a counterpart → they get their own radio show and hit it off, it’s about the next gen heroes

This one I actually did write recently, though I didn't stick to my previous idea too much.

It's called Mindblast's Next Gen Hero Show-

Another wip in that folder is about Ghosts haha and ofc something radio related, this time a podcast. I was obsessed with the idea of them talking with one another and other's listening lmao

Ghost Katsuki and Hitoshi meet in the afterlife. There's plenty of ghosts but not all get the chance to haunt the living. Hitoshi and Katsuki try their best and manage to get their ticket back to earth to haunt humans.

And what better way than to do so by haunting their school with a podcast "What it’s like being dead"

I am still very much interested in writing a Ghost Au. As you can see I did not fully think this idea through yet but it might be written at some point since I've returned to my ShinBaku Ideas Doc this year

Next Idea in that doc that's also its own wip on my tag game:

When life gives you lemons (Canon Divergence) → Hitoshi struggles with adjusting to the hero course → Katsuki finds him after another training session "gone wrong" exhausted, sweaty but not ready to take a break. Hitoshi hits a punching bag until his knuckles get sore. → Katsuki corrects Hitoshi's form, commenting on the fact that whatever crawled up Hitoshi's ass, wasn’t the bag's fault. → they begin talking and Hitoshi opens up about feeling lost etc. → Katsuki takes Hitoshi under his wing and class A notices - Izuku's particularly happy about this, seeing Katsuki care about someone who isn't himself and seeing him support Hitoshi, especially after he first told him to scram back in 1st yr

I am currently writing this one aaaaah... First chapter is here 👀

I was so inspired ofc i'm, again, not sticking entirely to these bullet points but it's ongoing

(and, in case you're interested Lio, in need of a beta 👀 I just didn't want to dump too much on you, since you're already reading over my rarepair fics 💛)

Last Idea was an Actor AU, I personally didn't fully feel. Still not sure I'll ever write it haha

I think the whole Bnha Actor Zine going around way back when inspired me for this au lol

Actor AU → Katsuki and Hitoshi used to be childhood friends but lost track of one another → Hitoshi is cast for Shinsou and once Katsuki meets him again, they hit it off again → both sad their characters don’t interact much; after Katsuki comments on the fact him and Hitoshi know each other from childhood, the two of them get put in interviews together more often; especially once Hitoshi gets a bigger role in later seasons

Also sorry not sorry for shamelessly promoting my fics

WIP Ask Game

[cantwritethetword]

Shut up, Merlin!

Fic Descript: Arthur learns the hard way that Merlin is very talented in the art of revenge after the king gets stuck wrapped in the drapes of his bed.

~A/N  - HEY ANON I TOLD YOU I HAD A MERLIN FIC IN THE WORKS !!!

I thought of this concept like AAAAAAGES ago and thought it was super funny and perfect for our little dynamic duo.

I have been absolutely vibing while on medication for my ADHD it's so nice to just be able to ✨start things✨ ?? and then, leave those things and ✨return later ✨?? and not have to drag myself to the finish line ?? crazy

- Enoy! ~

Tag List:

Masterpost Link 

Merlin and Arthur would die for each other.

There was no question about it. And they had come pretty close to it on multiple occasions. Whether it be facing trolls, witches, wildren, or mortal humans, both would take a sword to the heart for the other if the need arose.

If no danger was in sight, however, they would gladly throw each other under (the medieval equivalent of) the bus.

The pair had been out hunting, and a rather unsuccessful hunt at that. Arthur was in piss-poor form, which meant Merlin took every opportunity to run his mouth (and annoy the king further). They were making their way back to the castle, Arthur leading the way and Merlin trotting along behind.

"-do you remember when you missed that deer that was riiight in front of you?" Merlin asked, his face would suggest innocence but his tone proved he was trying to piss Arthur off.

"Shut up Merlin." Arthur replied flatly.

"And what about that time you were aiming for that huge bird?" Merlin continued. "But it flew off before you even had the chance to line up your bow?"

Arthur glared directly forwards, to no-one in particular. "Shut up, Merlin."

The men turned their horses off the beaten path and onto a lesser known shortcut through the thick forest back to Camelot.

Partially to clear the path, and partially to vent his frustration, Arthur swung his sword in front of him to clear some of the vines blocking their way. Perhaps the thickness of the foliage would deter Merlin from any more snide comments, and make him focus more on directing his horse through the areas too thick for Arthur to break.

Surprise surprise, Merlin continued as before. "And the rabbit- oh the knights are never going to let you forget that you lost a sword fight to an unarmed bunny-".

"Shut up Merlin!" Arthur groaned, wiping his face with his hands to try and wipe Merlin's voice from his brain.

"But we haven't even got to the-"

Merlin's taunt was interrupted by a sudden quiet, one that Arthur whispered silent praise to. "Have you finally taken my advice?"

When his servant didn't reply, Arthur slowed his horse. The now unnerving silence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and at the faint rustle of vegetation Arthur whipped his head round and drew his sword - prepared to leap from his horse and engage with whatever potential threat may have overpowered his friend.

But the moment his eyes caught sight of what made the rustle, Arthur burst into laughter.

Merlin hung a few metres behind his dismounted horse, completely tangled in the green ropes. The tautness of the plant rendered him almost immobile, a fact that was well demonstrated by his fruitless wriggling.

"Now," Arthur said with a grin, his previous sour mood turned completely upside down. "What was that you were saying about the knights not letting us forget things? Because I think they'd love to hear about this."

Merlin's glare shot daggers in Arthur's direction. "Hah hah." He said sarcastically. "Now help me down you ass."

Climbing off his horse, Arthur threw his sword into the dirt and sat on a nearby fallen tree. His grin eating more shit than a dung beetle.

Merlin scoffed. "Really? You're just going to sit there."

Arthur shrugged. "I've worked hard enough on this hunt, I think I deserve to have a bit of entertainment."

Merlin rolled his eyes and writhed further, pulling at the greenery with all his might before giving up and letting his body go limp.

"You're really not going to get me out of this?" He asked sincerely, a hint of annoyance still hiding at the back of his throat.

"You're a big boy Merlin." Arthur grinned cockily, stifling a chuckle. "You can do it."

With another roll of his eyes, Merlin continued to wrestle against the vines. But it seemed no matter which way he pulled, somehow he kept tightening the bounds that kept him suspended a few metres above the floor. He couldn't even use his magic with Arthur watching him this closely.

"You know Merlin, I think if you'd just relax you would have been free by now." Arthur continued.

Merlin made a few disgruntled noises before continuing to wriggle in the plants.

After a few minutes, Arthur stretched his arms dramatically. "I could take a nap by the time you've finished."

"Do it then." Merlin muttered under his breath. "Lazy ass."

Ignoring Merlin's comment, Arthur folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.

The warlock scoffed, before taking his opportunity to mutter a quick spell and free himself from the godforsaken foliage.

Unfortunately, he freed himself a little too eagerly, and left his body weight with nothing to support it. He toppled from the web of vines directly into a substantially deep patch of mud underneath him.

Arthur cackled at the sight, clapping his hands once before standing up and mounting his horse again. "Come on then."

Merlin grunted, dragging his feet through the ankle-deep sludge to where his horse was patiently waiting.

"I feel sorry for your saddle." Arthur grinned behind him. "Having all that dirt smeared over it."

Merlin shot him a glare. "And I feel sorry for yours, having your arse squashing it."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur quipped back a retort. "At least I'm not the one who has to clean it."

"I doubt you'd know where to start."

Early the next morning, before even the sun was up, Merlin snuck into the royal chambers. Not an unfamiliar process by this point, though usually it had far less exciting intent. This was not about cleaning, or polishing, or even returning stolen goods.

This was about revenge.

Focusing his attention on the sleeping king, Merlin swiped his eyes to the drapes of the bed at the top two corners, chanting an incantation. The fabric wound and tied itself around Arthur's wrists - perfectly balanced between holding firm without cutting off his blood flow. Then came the bedsheets themselves, winding around the bottom bedposts and around Arthur's legs with a similar spell.

Smirking to himself, Merlin slinked away to the furthest point of the room. Giving himself a mindless task of busywork to wait for Arthur to waken.

After what felt like hours, there was movement. At first, the sounds of a half-sleeping grunt and a rough attempt at turning himself over came from Arthur's bed. Then, a slightly bewildered collection of mumbles and tugs to the material. Before finally,

"WHAT THE-?" Arthur bellowed, thrashing in the binds. "MERLIN!"

Deciding to take this moment to make himself known, Merlin popped his head from around the corner. "Morning sunshine."

"Merlin." Arthur breathed an exasperated sigh of relief, before continuing his brash tone. "Get me out of here!"

Merlin smirked at his friend. "Oh but I've got a long day of work ahead, I feel I deserve some entertainment."

Arthur glared at him. "Merlin. Get. Me. Out."

Just to rub the situation in, Merlin sat on the lower half of the bed (where Arthur couldn't reach) with his legs crossed, letting his chin fall on his hands - eager to watch the show.

Realising his manservant was going to be absolutely no help, Arthur began thrashing again, tugging at the drapes of his bedframe with little success.

"You know," Merlin suggested. "If you'd just relax, maybe you'd get out."

"I can't relax!" Arthur cried indignantly. "I am stuck, and hungry - I haven't even had breakfast! I'm wasting away-"

"Oh you're fine." Merlin laughed, poking Arthur's exposed side.

Arthur shrieked and recoiled (as best as the bedding would allow), internally cursing his decision to sleep without a shirt on. He locked eyes with his manservant, watching the cogs tick momentarily in Merlin's brain.

"Oh~?" Merlin grinned. "What's this?"

"Merlin I swear to you..." Arthur threatened, trying his best to keep his composure. "I will throw you in the stocks if you come any closer."

Merlin shrugged. "You've done worse." And crawled closer.

"I'll have you executed!" Arthur's voice was beginning to break with nerves.

Merlin laughed briefly. "You wouldn't survive without me."

Pulling himself together, Arthur called upon his most serious, kingly, threatening tone. "I'll ban you from the tavern!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, before clambering behind his friend - reveling in the freedom he had to really draw out the anticipation.

"Guahards!" Arthur shrieked, a bark of laughter breaking up his command as he twisted as far away from Merlin as he could. "Help!"

"Oh they can't hear you." Merlin grinned, noting the way Arthur almost seemed to relax at that statement. Perhaps the king needed this more than he did.

Either way, Arthur was royally screwed.

Merlin's spindly fingers began climbing up Arthur's sides, making the king jolt and yelp with every touch. Even when all he could see was Arthur's reddening ears, Merlin knew Arthur's face was scrunched as tightly as possible - avoiding even the smallest semblance of a smile.

Surprisingly, as Merlin's hands climbed higher, Arthur's breathing relaxed. The tension in his muscles remained, not allowing himself the risk of letting out so much as a snicker, but clearly his ribs and armpits weren't where Merlin should be focusing.

Following the cues of his victim friend, Merlin let his hands drag down over the curves of Arthur's love handles. Instantly, the king's breathing hitched - bingo.

Continuing the previously-built anticipation, Merlin slowly scraped his blunt fingernails against Arthur's skin, pulling his digits from splayed out to centered on the king's sides. Arthur was practically vibrating at this point with the pure effort of keeping his reactions at bay. Desperately gripping at the tough-guy facade with a pained grimace on his face, he pulled at the drapes his limbs were caught in at violent, random intervals.

"You're allowed to smile, you know." Merlin teased right in his friend's ear, adding a little more pressure to transition into light poking.

Arthur yelped in reaction, before grunting - as if to remind Merlin that Arthur was the King of Camelot, far too tough for something as childish as being ticklish.

Unfortunately, he had a little shit of a man-servant. And someone who knew exactly what to do to get him to crack a smile.

"Huh, maybe His Majesty the King isn't ticklish after all..." Merlin proclaimed, watching Arthur's cheek twitch into a stifled (but amused) grin, before clawing his hands against Arthur's sides.

Arthur's body seized, pulling against the fabric holding him in place so tightly Merlin thought the bedframe might snap, before slumping into Merlin's tickly grasp.

And the sweetest, most childish giggles Merlin had ever heard bubbled out of Arthur's mouth.

"Meh-meh-meherlihin!" Arthur gasped between bouts of soft laughter. "Wahahait!"

"Oh?" Merlin raised an eyebrow (not that Arthur could see). "Are you ticklish, Arthur?"

Arthur ducked his head to his shoulder. "Shuhuhut up Meherlin!"

It was at this moment, Merlin realised that while Arthur was occasionally pulling on the binds, it didn't seem intentional. Arthur only seemed to really pull with one hand, and not even to protect himself.

It seemed he was only focused on covering his (now bright red) face... Interesting.

"What's the matter?" Merlin beamed, peeking his head around next to Arthur's. "It can't tickle that badly."

"Meherlin!" Arthur's eyes widened with a flustered laugh, before flicking his head in the other direction. "Shuhuht uhuhup!"

Merlin laughed. "You're one to talk about shutting up Mr Giggles."

Arthur's cheeks burned even brighter - the poor guy looked more flustered than Merlin had ever seen him before. At this point Merlin was having more fun teasing the king than actually tickling him.

Though by this point, Arthur was almost getting used to the clawing at his love handles, so Merlin decided to swap techniques and start squeezing at Arthur's hip bones.

Turns out, Arthur has the perfect layering of fat and muscle for Merlin to drill his fingers all the way into the king's hips without pain - just a hell of a lot of tickling.

Arthur screeched, and though his breathing became more frantic and his struggling became more erratic, the bubbly giggles from before sounded just as carefree (just a little less gentle).

"Meher- nohohoho- meherlin wahahait!" Arthur cackled, his face in a permanent beam.

"Well isn't this just adorable." Merlin teased, pitter-pattering his fingers over Arthur's stomach before returning to the king's hips. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"Shuhuhut uhup meheherlin!"

Merlin grinned at his friend, finally deciding to show mercy. Poor Arthur was nearing exhaustion, and he still had a full day of training with the knights ahead of him.

With a swift, inconspicuous mutter, Merlin loosened the drapes holding Arthur hostage. It took the king a few moments to finally realised he could free himself, and he escaped with a little less hurry than Merlin expected.

But even after Arthur's breathing returned to normal, and the flush had almost faded from his face, Arthur still had a massive grin splitting his cheeks and his arms folded over his eyes.

Merlin stood off the bed and let his friend lie there for a few moments, waiting for the usual threat or sarcastic quip that followed their usual banter sessions.

"Will that be all, my lord?" Merlin grinned, moving towards the door (and hoping to provoke some sign of life out of the guy.)

Arthur just giggled again. "Shuhut up Merlin."