#haha. what spring break.

[mirainawen]

them: you who are a bookkeeper? YOU who did MY taxes? YOU have not finished YOUR taxes? HOW

me: BECAUSE I'VE BEEN BUSY DOING MY JOB

[yelloworangesoda]

this got away from me

[mayaree-darling]

Water... Connoisseur?// Neuvillette

synopsis: Neuvillette shares his love for water tasting with the Creator (ft. Paimon and the Traveler)

from aree: this was supposed to be a short funny little thing but as always i can’t keep my mouth shut and now this is 17 pages long

content: Creator!Reader; smol spoiler(?) for and inspired by Neuvillette's story quest and profile/voice over; Reader and the Traveler (and Paimon) have Siblings Energy; I headcanon that the Traveler can see their inventory the way us players can; Pure Crack; Probably OOC Neuvillette

fic length: ~5.3k 

You are the Creator of Teyvat, spending time with the Traveler, Paimon, and Neuvillette. At one point, the Iudex offers for the four of you to take a break in his office and he'll fetch you some refreshments. Almost immediately, you see from the corner of your eye the Traveler and Paimon stutter out that they'll get the drinks themselves, but it's too late. You didn't see what was wrong with Neuvillette offering something to drink - if anything, you're curious to know what kind of drink he'd prepare for his guests. This was your first time tasting what Fontaine had to offer. So you let him go. 

When Neuvillette leaves the room, the traveling duo beside you share a heavy sigh. You turn to them and ask what's wrong. They share a meaningful look. You'll see, they say.

Eventually, Neuvillette comes back rolling a small food trolley in front of him. On top are four silver pitchers and four goblets. Paimon sheepishly laughs, "Here we go."

You step forward - because it's clear to you Traveler and Paimon have no plans on taking initiative - and Neuvillette motions to the pitchers. 

"Each one is from a different nation. I hope that you'll find at least one of them to your tastes, Your Grace. I assure you they are all of high quality, although I have no doubt of it since they are a part of your creation, after all. Personally, I can't say I favor one over the other. I find each one particularly special in its own way, so I must apologize if I cannot give you a recommendation." 

You frown. You... made them? You don't remember something about creating a drink for each nation. Was this a recipe from your old life that only a dragon sovereign could remember? The Traveler clears their throat and mumbles something under their breath. You turn to them questioningly and you watch bemused as their mouth ticks up at the corners.

"It's water." The Traveler looks at everything in the room before their eyes land on you.

You blink. "Excuse me?"

"Haha.. It's just water... The drinks..." If Paimon was standing on solid ground, you think she would be bouncing on the balls of her feet, her arms behind her. When she meets your eyes, she lets out a sheepish laugh. "That's what Neuvillette means by they're from every nation. They're... spring water from different places."

You slowly look at the Traveler and Paimon in turn, hoping for a deeper explanation or for them to tell you they were pulling your leg, but both of them refuse to look you in the eye. Your mouth is opened to a permanent gasp of understanding as you turn back to the food trolley in front of you.

Oh...

"Is there something wrong, Your Grace?" You almost regret looking at Neuvillette. Although he doesn't usually show his emotions, it's almost like he can't help but show you how dejected he looks. To put it simply, it felt like you kicked an otter to the curb, sad puppy eyes and everything. You half expect it to start raining outside that instant. "I can arrange for the Melusine to make something else, if you'd like. I'm sure they'd be honored to -"

"NO! No. It's okay. It's fine, Neuvillette. Thank you for the offer, but it's fine." You shoot a frown at the duo, who have taken to plastering themselves on one of the many sofas in the room, intent on letting you handle the water situation. You breathe in and take a step forward, taking one of the goblets. "You said each one is special, right? I'm sure they'll taste... nice..."

You pointedly ignore the Traveler as they grumble once more (you pretend you didn't just hear Paimon say "no it won't"). You look at each of the pitchers and pretend to be thinking hard about your choice. It's kind of hard to make a choice now that you know they're all just water. Your only saving grace is you know where they came from.

"I think I'll start off with... Sumeru!" Neuvillette all but beams at your decision and picks up the selected pitcher. You're glad he did because you didn't know which was which. You pray to Nahida that you didn't make a bad choice (the God of Wisdom has yet to fail you since your descent and you hope that she has your back this time, too.) Holding out your goblet, you watch as Neuvillette fills the cup half way, almost hoping there's a telltale sign of a difference (or it's a different drink altogether).

It's just water.

"A wonderful choice, Your Grace. This particular water comes from Apam Woods of Sumeru. You'll find the taste to be rich and complex. Despite usually having to take the time to savor it to fully appreciate it, I'm sure Your Grace will have no problem distinguishing its special flavor, which is unlike any other."

Did he have to put the pressure on you like that? 

You laugh sheepishly as you fight to give Neuvillette your best thankful smile. Taking back the goblet, you stare at your drink, deciding your best bet was to examine it if you were going to "savor" it. Maybe it was a different color? No, it's still translucent in nature. Swirling it a few times, it doesn't appear to have a thicker viscosity as it sloshes around your cup. As for the smell it was- 

Wait. Huh?

"It's fragrant," you mumble. Only when you hear yourself clearly do you realize the room is silent. Looking up, you see Neuvillette staring at you, and behind you, even the Traveler and Paimon have taken an interest in your exchange. All eyes are trained on you, watching your reaction. You look back to Neuvillette as he lets out a hum.

"It's... fragrant? I must say, even I have never thought to discern its smell. For a moment, please," Neuvillette steps forward and takes a goblet for himself, pouring water from the same pitcher. He pulls the goblet up to his nose. "Hmm. As I thought. It seems I am unable to smell this fragrance you speak of. How interesting."

"Wait. If you can smell it..." You turn to Paimon as she looks at the Traveler. When they look at you, their eyes are expectant.

Surely, you can...?

Looking at Neuvillette, he gives you an encouraging nod. You raise the goblet to your lips and take a tentative sip. And then another. And then... another? You lower the goblet, and then turn to the Traveler.

"It tastes like flowers." You know you and the Traveler share the same incredulous look. You can just feel the disbelief and confusion pulling at your face. Looking at Paimon, she's just as confused, head in her little hands. "When I focus on it, it's floral. Kind of like... tea? Like herbal tea, just less strong. It could even be perfume."

"Marvelous," you look at Neuvillette, and it's clear to you he does not sense the growing bewilderment you and the other two are going through. He smiles at you softly, and you don't have the heart to tell him that water isn't supposed to have a flavor. "I don't seem to recall anyone else sharing my taste for water. But I must say - even I am unable to perfectly put a name or a description to the flavor I experience. It's almost always a feeling."

"WAIT! Waitwaitwaitwait! I wanna try, too!" Paimon rushes to your side and takes your goblet in her hands, ready to drink it. You hear Neuvillette clear his throat and turn to him as he fills the other two goblets with Sumeru water. Paimon lets go of your goblet and goes to take one for herself. You see the Traveller stand up and grab one too. "Is it different from the one we had before? Wait, but it's from the Apam Woods, too..."

The Traveler and Paimon take a big gulp at the same time, licking their lips and savoring the taste before eventually they click their tongues in unison.

"Nope." The Traveler laughs, almost amused and defeated at the same time.

"Nothing's different. It's the same water as last time!" Paimon stomps her little feet in the air. "Are you pulling Paimon's leg?"

"Of course not. However, I am curious. If it is fine with Your Grace, I would love to hear more about what you can taste," If you were honest, you didn't want any more of the spotlight on you - being the Creator, you've had enough of that. But Neuvillette seemed so happy in the moment you couldn't possibly refuse him. 

"Well, besides smelling and tasting like flowers," you take a sip, letting it roll on your tongue. "It also has this sort of herby aftertaste? But only when I focus on it. Kind of like basils? Or rosemary? I can't tell you for sure what kind, but it kind of tastes like that."

When you turn back to them, you're surprised to see Neuvillette looking at you in confusion. Did you say something wrong?

"He doesn't know what those are, dummy," The Traveler sighs. You watch as they take a metal shaker out from their inventory and start preparing a drink of their own. Paimon watches on, excited of drinking something that wasn't just water. "They don't have those here in Teyvat, remember?"

"Traveler, I implore you to watch your words. Was it necessary to call Your Grace as such?" Neuvillette frowns. 

The Traveler shrugs and you both share a secretive smile. "They prefer that over 'Your Grace', though."

Neuvillette turns to you with concern. "Is-is that true, Your Grace? Why would you prefer that name? I can't quite say I agree with that decision but- "

"It's fine, Neuvillette. I forgot you didn't know any of those herbs, so I'm sorry for that. Just know the water tastes like it has a bit of herbs or spice to it." You shake your head with a laugh, thinking of a way to change the subject. "Anyway, can I taste the other ones?"

Neuvillette almost visibly lights up at that and takes another of the pitchers, filling your emptied goblet with more water.

"This one is from Inazuma's Konda Village. For its mouthfeel, I find it quite placid." Neuvillette looks at you expectantly. You're reminded again of a puppy, or in his case, an otter. A very cute otter. As you put the goblet to your lips, you have half a mind to gift him a seashell.

You take a sip and almost immediately spit it out. In an instant, Neuvillette is by your side, throwing the goblet halfway across the room. Before you realize it, you're in his arms and he has half a mind to bolt out the room to get you to a healer until you stop him.

"WAIT! Wait, Neuvi, just calm down-" you descend into a coughing fit.

"Your Grace! What's wrong? Is it poison? Were you poisoned?! Oh no, Paimon can't look-" 

"That's preposterous. I prepared the drinks myself," he says that, but Neuvillette talks like he's suddenly doubting himself. 

"You sure you don't need to get healed?" the Traveler frowns in concern, turning your face this way and that, looking for signs of poisoning.

You shake your head again and swallow down another cough, clearing your throat. "No, no, I don't need a healer. I wasn't poisoned. I just wasn't expecting to suddenly take a shot of sparkling water." 

The Traveler blinks, there's a pause as it sinks in, and suddenly they stand up and head back to the food trolley. They pick up the shaker they unceremoniously left when everyone panicked and resumed making their drink.

"Traveler, are you gonna make medicine for the Creator?" Paimon floats around you in concern. 

"You guys can stop panicking. They're not gonna die," the Traveler sighs and looks at you with a face that can only be described as 'Are you for reals.' "I think they were just surprised with how the water tasted."

You motion for Neuvillette to let you down, which he does albeit very hesitantly. You merely laugh at the concern on his face and give him a pat on the back to reassure him that no, the Creator was not going to die on his watch just because of a bad drink of water. 

The Iudex frowns hard looking at the pitcher of Inazuman water. "You called it... sparkling water? Pardon me if I'm wrong, but am I to assume water from Inazuma has different visual properties? Does Your Grace see something we are unable to? And if so, does this difference have an effect on the taste?" 

You shake your head again for what seemed like the thousandth time, before you stop and think about it for a second. You head to the food trolley and pick up Paimon's empty cup. Pouring Inazuman water from the pitcher, you watch as normal looking water fills the goblet. The normal fizzle of bubbles you expect from a carbonated drink is not present, even as you swirl it around. 

Before Neuvillette can stop you, you take a sip of it again. You hear him stifle a gasp. His hand is on your shoulder, ready to bring you to Sigewinne at record speed if needed. But you weren't mistaken - it really does taste like sparkling water. Weird. You turn to Neuvillette and try to look as reassuring as possible.

"So, back from... where I came from, we have this drink called sparkling water. It's not that it was particularly, uh, sparkly, but it did have a lot of bubbles. The water from Inazuma here looks like regular water, but it does feel like sparkling water in your mouth," you explain slowly. The look of doubt doesn't leave Neuvillete's face. "It's also not deadly for us, just like how this water isn't. I mean, you like drinking it, right? That means it's fine for consumption." 

He visibly eases up at your words. He reluctantly lets go of your shoulder with a shaky exhale. You kinda feel bad for making him so worried. Eventually, you watch as he calms down from the panic earlier and suddenly he's back to his stoic self, unable to resist his interest in your water tasting experience.

"So this so-called sparkling water... what does it feel like? May you explain? I'm afraid I cannot quite imagine it." Neuvillette looks to be deep in thought and you laugh softly. He really was into water tasting. 

"Oh? Paimon thinks Mondstadt has something similar."

The Traveler pauses from taking a sip of their new drink - Boreal Watch, you remember it's called - before opening their inventory. They scroll through a list of ingredients before taking out a single bottle. The bubbling liquid is a familiar sight. "They call it Fizzy Water. I used it to make drinks at Angel's Share once. Feel free to drink this, Monsieur Neuvillette. Master Diluc gave it as a freebie."

Neuvillette takes the bottle with a nod of thanks. He examines the packaging for a moment, pops the bottle open and takes a swig. There's a pregnant pause before he turns his back to you, takes his goblet and spits out the drink into it out of your line of sight. The three of you don't have to look at each other to know the expression the others have; Paimon sounds like she's close to tears from holding in her laughter. 

When Neuvillette turns to you again, you give him a small smile, ready to comfort him, before he drops to his knee in front of you. You try to pull him up by his arms but he just holds on to your hands.

"Your Grace, please allow me to apologize for making you go through that."

"H-hey, I didn't mind you literally spitting it out, come on now, I basically did the same thing if not worse-"

"No. Not that, Your Grace. I also apologize for that, yes, but I refused to swallow that drink down no matter the cost." He's staring at you dead in the eyes and he looked so serious it was unnerving. "I'm apologizing for letting you drink the water from Inazuma. Had I known that is what you would experience, I would have skipped offering it to you as a refreshment." 

"Please stand up. Don't worry about it. It's not that big of a deal," you pull on his arms again and he doesn't resist, standing back up. "I told you it's a normal drink from where I'm from, right? I was just shocked because I wasn't expecting it."

"Do you mean..." Neuvillette visibly cringes, much to your amusement. "People from your old land... like? To drink it? How... eccentric."

"So do those from Mondstadt, Monsieur Neuvillette," you turn to the Traveler in disbelief that they'd say that right now, but all they give you back is a devious grin peeking from atop their cup as they take another sip. "Dawning Dew was a bestseller."

Paimon clears her throat as she collects herself. "It's kind of funny that Neuvillette can't feel the fizziness when he's drinking? He said that he can feel what he drinks, not taste it. Paimon wonders what's up with that."

"What's Konda Village water like for you, again?" you hum.

"If I had to put a word to it," Neuvillette thought about it for a second. "Placid."

"Placid? That's one way to describe something." Paimon shrugs. 

"Yes, that was how I would have described it," Neuvillette shoots a glare at the bottle of Fizzy Water and another concerned look at you. "After current events, I can't quite say the same."

Paimon was right, though. Placid was definitely a different way of describing things. Placid meant... calm? Or tranquil? You definitely didn't think that's how you'd describe Inazuma. Wait, Inazuma? And that feeling of sparkling water...

"Is it possible... You think it's 'placid'... because your mouth has gone numb?" you gape at Neuvillette.

He stares back at you blankly. The silence in the room is deafening. 

“Maybe… don’t drink that for a while. Not until you’re ready again,” you offer.

“Agreed.” Neuvillette nods stiffly. 

“Alright!” you clap your hands and turn back to the food trolley. “What’s next?” 

To your surprise, Neuvillette’s hand wraps around your wrist as you manage to grasp the next pitcher's handle. He looks just as surprised as you do that he’s holding on to you. 

“Neuvi…llette?” you blink at him.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he lets go like he was burned, but he doesn’t exactly move away. “But we can stop here if you so wish.” 

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean to say is,” Neuvillette coughs into his fist, thinking hard about his next words. “Although I wish to learn more about the different tastes Your Grace can experience, I must admit I am unable to guide you nor accompany you in your journey, per say. Should there be something wrong with the following water samples, I can only watch and listen like the others, but not help until much later.”

You nod slowly. 

“It means he’s concerned, dummy,” a voice calls out from behind you and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I kind of got that, thanks for the heads up,” you groan.

“If I am honest,” Neuvillette’s voice is soft, you’d even be confident to say it’s like he only wants you to hear. “I feel like a scientist watching my latest test subject. Fascinated, and yet should a problem arise, useless.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown at him, but the expression easily slides off your face when he faces you (damn those sad otter eyes). Eventually, you offer him a soft smile. “If I really considered this as life threatening as you think, I would have stopped after the first pitcher. But I’m genuinely having fun, alright? So don’t worry too much about it.”

He doesn’t look quite convinced. You have been telling him to calm down a lot this entire time. When he opens his mouth to dissuade you, you beat him to it.

“I should thank you, you know.”

“Excuse me?” Neuvillette gapes at you. “I almost rushed you to a healer just a moment ago, Your Grace. I have done nothing to earn your gratitude.”

“That’s the thing, though, thank you for taking care of me this entire time, Neuvillette. You’ve been looking out for me every time we’re together, so thank you,” without thinking it over, you close the distance between you two and hug him. When you pull away, he’s intent on not looking you in the eye. “Thank you also for introducing me to water tasting. Never thought the day would come but here we are. It really is quite fun.”

“I see…” Neuvillette says, before abruptly turning around, giving you a clear view of his reddened ears. “Pardon me for a moment, Your Grace. I just… need to recollect for a moment.” 

Before you can say anything else, he leaves your side and goes to get your goblet he threw earlier in a panic. He kneels down and picks it up, but instead of heading back towards you, he just sort of holds it, turning it around in his hand mindlessly. You watch, jaw slightly open, until you feel a presence behind you. 

“I think you broke him.” 

You turn to the Traveler with concern. “Yeah I think so, too, should I be worried?” 

You both turn to Neuvillette, seeing he’s still busy with his goblet, before looking back to each other.

“I bet 500 mora he’ll go back to normal if you make yourself another drink.” 

“It’s not really a bet if we agree on the same thing, though?” 

You clear your throat, hoping to catch Neuvillette’s attention as you turn to Paimon. “Paimon, mind if I borrow your cup for now? We can share if you need it.”

“No, that’s okay. Paimon’s had enough of water. Paimon will share with the Traveler!” Almost on cue, the Traveler offers their drink to Paimon. 

The moment you lift the next pitcher, Neuvillette is by your side in an instant, your goblet and his safely set aside for washing later. “May I do the honors, Your Grace?” 

You offer your goblet as he holds up the pitcher. He pauses.

“Promise me we’ll stop if things get… awry.”

You smile. “You said it yourself, right? This is water prepared by the Iudex himself and made by the Creator themselves. I don’t doubt for a second that it’s not safe.” 

Neuvillette shares your smile softly before pouring the water into your goblet. Third time’s the charm, right? You take a sip and… raise an eyebrow.

“It’s salty. Huh.” you take another sip. “Sort of metallic, too. That’s pretty close to the same thing but, yeah, I’d say it’s rather salty.”

“Salty? That’s quite strange.” Neuvillette double checks that he’s holding the right pitcher. “This water is from Liyue, particularly from Qingce Village. I know of the water from Liyue to have an enduring aftertaste, but I must say I was not expecting it to be salty.”

“Me, too; for Liyue I was kind of expecting it to have an earthy kind of taste. Whatever that tastes like, I don’t know, but I was ready for anything besides this,” you take another sip. “Can’t say it’s all that bad, though. I feel like I’m at a beach.”

“Only if you’re actively drinking the sea water.” 

You don’t even bother looking behind you. “I said it ‘felt’ like. I didn’t say ‘taste’ like. Get your facts straight.”

Looking up at Neuvillette, you realize he’s only watching your reactions. He smiles softly when he finds your attention on him. Not wanting to be the only one “enjoying” the drink, you offer your goblet to him. He looks at you, slightly alarmed, but when you make no move to take the goblet back, he reluctantly takes it. He turns away from you as he drinks. 

You hear the Traveler clear their throat behind you. When you go to look, their eyebrows are raised at you. They look to Neuvillette and then to you before scoffing. Oh… was it that intimate an action?

“A-anyway,” you clear your throat as Neuvillette hands the goblet back to you. There’s a small pleased smile on his face. “What do you think of when you drink water from Liyue?” 

“For me,” Neuvillette closes his eyes for a few seconds, careful of what to say next. “I always thought it had a poignant touch to it.”

“Poignant?” What did you think of when you thought of poignant? Swirling the water around your cup, you recall a story quest. Liyue, salt, and water are key factors in its plot. A sad smile overtakes your features. “Ah. Yes, I guess poignant would be a good word for that. Salty is the right word, too.”

Neuvillette tilts his head to the side at your sudden change in demeanor. “Your Grace?”

“It’s nothing. Just thought I’d visit an old friend sometime.” you tilt your head back as you down the rest of the cup. “Anyways, I think I need something else to wash that off.” 

“Ah, yes. I suppose that does come with consuming salty foods.” Neuvillette nods. “Would you like a different drink? Something aside from water, I mean.”

“Actually, water is good for washing off salt, so I thought I’d ask for more water.”

He holds up the last silver pitcher. “We have Mondstadt left, if you would like to give it a try right now.”

“How would you describe it?” you ask, but you’re already holding out your goblet.

“This particular batch is from Cider Lake.” Neuvillette fills your goblet a little more than usual, most likely to fully cleanse the salt from your palate. “Besides having a crisp and clear feel, I also find that it warms the heart.”

“Oh, wow, guess Venti’s got it nice going for him,” you lift the goblet to your lips and drink.

“I’d be bold enough to say it’s the only thing nice going for him.”

You almost spit out your drink for the second time this day. You turn to look at the Traveler, but they’re busy having a debate with Paimon. That means that the person who said that was-

Neuvillette takes the goblet from your hands and drinks. When you look at him, jaw hanging open still from disbelief, you watch as the corners of his mouth tick up.

“Are you allowed to say that?” you whisper. The Traveler and Paimon don’t seem to have heard, but you sure as hell did.

“I just did, did I not?” He offers a small smile that borders on innocent if it wasn’t so conspiratorial. “I have faith that the Creator will not spread rumors about me, I hope.”

You don’t know if you’d still call it a rumor when he so blatantly did it in front of you, but you end up laughing. You put both hands up as a show of surrender. No way in hell were you telling on the dragon sovereign of Fontaine.

“So, as for our final drink,” Neuvillette offers the goblet back. “What do you make of water from Mondstadt?”

You make a show of finishing the cup all in one go. “Out of all the ones we tasted, I think this has got to be my favorite so far.” 

“Oh? Is it that good?” Neuvillette watches you keenly, awaiting for more details. 

“Yep. It tastes like water.”

Neuvillette chuckles softly, but when you simply offer him a smile, his smile drops. “You… are not joking?”

“Nah. It’s exactly as you say - it’s crisp and clean. It’s how water tasted like back from my world,” you hum in delight. “It doesn’t remind me of anything else but the pure taste of water. Can’t put my finger on whether it’s distilled, mineral, or tap water, all I know is that it’s water for me.” 

“Hmm. Although I want to say it’s rather an anticlimactic ending, I can’t say so. I leave today with the knowledge that there is still a water sample we can similarly taste.” Neuvillette smiles to himself once more. “But that’s enough of that. I believe I’ve put you through enough for today, Your Grace. Thank you for entertaining me and my hobbies.”

“I had fun! Make sure to call me next time you get a new sample, I’d love to have a taste.” You beam at him.

Neuvillette stares at you for a moment - was he waiting for you to tell him it was just a joke? Sure seemed like it - before his smile was back, relieved. You can almost see his little otter tail waving around. “Of course. I already look forward to it.” 

“Are you done now?” 

You take a step back as Paimon suddenly steps into the middle. Her little frown does little to make you feel bad. If anything, it has the opposite effect and you laugh. Her frown deepens at you as you rub her little head. 

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. We can get a meal now.”

“Woohoo! We're getting meals, plural. Where are we going to eat? Paimon wants some Fontainian Foie Gras!” you follow the fairy as she heads out the door, excited for the prospect of food. And then you pause as you remember.

“Ah, wait. Before we leave. Just one more thing.”

You head back to the food trolley and grab Paimon’s goblet. You make a beeline for a corner in Neuvillette’s office. You noticed earlier there was a small drinking fountain. Gathering enough water into your cup, you take a sip. You turn to Neuvillette.

“Oh my gosh, it’s sweet.”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝ 

❀BONUS❀

The Traveler and Paimon share an exasperated sigh for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past week. Ever since the water tasting incident, the Creator and Neuvillette have taken to going around Teyvat, trying out different waters straight from the spring of each nation. 

"Why do we have to visit each nation? Paimon thought you could just have them delivered straight to your office!" Paimon leans on the Traveler's head, tired from floating around so much. 

"Appreciating the nation from which the drink came from is part of the experience, Paimon." Neuvillette swirls the water in his goblet, offering it to the floating fairy, who only takes a look at it before cringing away.

The Traveler and Paimon share another look. They know he just likes the opportunity to bond with the Creator over their appreciation of water.

"Are we going back home after this?" Paimon groans.

"I can make you some Sticky Honey Roast if you guide us to Snezhnaya?" You take another sip from your goblet, one made from pure magical ore.

("Your Grace deserves only the finest things, even if it's only dinnerware and the likes," said Neuvillette. "I may also add that a traveling merchant said that drinking from a crystal goblet highlights the taste of the refreshment, as it is free from the taste of metal usually found in a standard cup." You don't mention that you notice he has a matching goblet, right next to a pile of books on his desk. Embedded on it is a familiar seashell.)

In an instant, Paimon is by your side, eyes glittering with determination. "If you cook three Sticky Honey Roasts for Paimon, Paimon can take you to Kh'aenriah."

You lower your goblet and hold out a hand. "Two. And I'll throw in a Squirrel Fish if you find a lake where we can drink from."

"Deal." Paimon takes your hand and you shake on it.

The Traveller flops to the ground and sighs.

They knew they were going to be the one to look for that lake.

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Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

[saerins]

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꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — there’s a lot going on in life. there’s a lot expected of you. both of you. sometimes love is all it takes. and sometimes, love is not enough.

content: itoshi sae x female reader. smut/fluff/angst. tw: making out, dry humping, oral (male receiving), profanity, they tiptoe around their awkwardness, lots of being needy, clingy, sae’s a little shameless & so are you. word count: 7.5k

༝༚༝༚ it’s finally here !! the next chapter haha to whoever’s still reading & waiting for this , thank you for still being here :’) i appreciate you more than you’ll ever know <3 also yay !! finally you’ll find out whether sae & bianca fucked :p (psa about taglist at the end of the chapter !!)

there’s something very foreign about waking up in peace. very foreign, but very welcome. 

sunlight filters nicely through the half-closed blinds of the guest room. the paint on the walls don’t chip, don’t leave anything for you to stare at, can’t wonder whether the paint job would come undone first before you.

the bed is soft. doesn’t have those annoying noises the springs make when you get up and stretch. the room is cold from the air conditioning, but the slight warmth of the sun that bounces on your skin is a nice contrast.

you feel light.

the events of last night leave much to your imagination. you have no idea if last night was too much, if asking for a kiss was too much.

but sae kissed you himself—it shouldn’t be, right?

you find you never quite know with him. you really should get out there and deal with it.

it’s 7am but something tells you sae should already be up. he’s a soccer player with a tendency to make the best of his days, there’s no way he’s not up and ready yet.

true to your guess, by the time you awkwardly peek into the living room, there’s a note waiting for you on the coffee table.

got a photoshoot till night, help yourself to anything in the house.

his penmanship leaves much to be desired, unlike the other parts of him. an indication of how little he actually writes.

sae could’ve just texted you this, but you guess even he’s feeling at a loss after last night.

which both of you think must be stupid; it’s just a kiss.

work is already settled for you. sumi offered to help you speak to mr tatsuji. the interview with sae early on really does work miracles. it’s so easy to curry favours now.

a three-day break from work because sumi thought you might need more time off so she conveniently told your boss that you’re nursing a fever.

where do you find friends like her at work nowadays?

you plop yourself down on sae’s leather couch, rife with the kind of comfort that’s alien to you. you definitely owe sumi one. sae, too. 

you’ll figure out ways to repay sumi soon. there has to be someone else on the team that you can convince for an interview under her name. you’re already calculating possibilities between oliver aiku and shuto sendou.

but as for sae, you find yourself drawing a blank.

what can you do for someone who already has everything? what kind of benefits can you extend?

you’re feeling even worse as the clock continues to tick, realising that you’d probably never be able to measure up to someone like him.

your feet carry you to the balcony before you know it, the chilly morning air hitting your face like the wake up call you need.

sae’s not really like anyone else you’ve known before. he’s a normal, sane-enough human—nearly the polar opposite of how eita is, though, so maybe that’s why your head’s devoid of ideas.

you groan, elbows perched on the wooden railing lining the edges of the balcony, palms pressed against your cheekbones as you desperately try to manifest an idea in your head.

he can lend you his shirt. he can extend a space in his house. he can give you that kiss he remembers you wanted.

but you can’t think of one measly idea of what to do for him in return.

you can think of one idea of how to get there, to get your answer, but you can’t shake the notion that it’s kind of stupid and kind of shameless. 

you juggle the degree to which each attribute bothers you and ultimately decide to just go ahead with it anyway.

“what is it, idiot?”

eita’s as friendly as always, on the other side of the line, voice a low rasp, obviously stirred from a deep sleep.

“can i ask you for your opinions?”

a sigh from the other line, as if he expects something completely stupid.

“yeah, sure.”

“and promise not to lecture me!”

eita pauses. you hear rustling on his end, probably getting up because he’s gotten curious and invested in the conversation now.

“depends, what the fuck did you do?”

he acts as if you’re the only one out of the two of you that does stupid, stupid things.

“nothing stupid, thank you very much.” (yet. possibly.) “but… do you have any idea what sae likes?”

it’s a long shot. a really long one. eita would probably have a better chance at guessing an AV star’s favourite dish. wouldn’t hurt to try, though.

eita makes a loud, confused noise. warranted.

you think.

“uh… i don’t know, bianca?”

a pause.

“i’m joking.”

it still hit your sore spot. the nagging reminder that there’s more to sae and bianca than meets the eye that just gets sprung back into the forefront of your temporal lobe.

“well, i’m serious!” you choose to ignore it.

another sigh from eita. you can practically envision him on his bed, duvet carelessly discarded to the side, scratching the back of his head.

“look, all i know is that he hates french fries and loves his routines, and oh, the only girl he’s ever admitted liking is momoko sakura.”

eita says it all in one breath and waits for your response like you’re supposed to appreciate it. the last one nearly made you vomit before you realise it’s a fucking tv show.

if you’re going to get help, you’re not going to get it from him.

“oh, he’s more of an ass guy than a boob guy, if you need to know.”

“what? eita!”

“i’m serious.”

you don’t really know whether you can trust him. even if you do, what the heck are you supposed to do with that information? jiggle your ass randomly in front of itoshi sae?

“thanks, eita.” you’re evidently bummed out. that doesn’t cancel out your actual gratitude that eita didn’t just hang up on you. you consider it a big enough surprise that he even tried.

“wait, why do you ask?”

his voice comes out all rushed, like he’s just now waking up and realising it’s not like you to ask him something like this out of the blue.

it’s probably not the greatest idea to tell him where you are and why you’re there, but you don’t actually like lying to your friends so you cough up the information without much persuasion.

“so what, are you guys a thing now?”

it’s fair of him to ask. you conveniently left out the kiss though, so maybe eita’s jumping the gun here.

“no, we’re just… getting to know each other.”

“uh huh.”

it sounds almost accusatory.

suddenly you don’t know what to say to the one you’re always talking around.

“well, if you need me, call me,” he says, more laconic than you’re used to. still, all things considered, you guess you can’t really blame him.

the discontent in his voice is apparent, the lack of intonation eating you up with guilt.

you retreat back into the living room, into the warm embrace of the single-seater, hoping that the softness of it would swallow the tornado in you up whole.

the rest of the morning is spent on your phone and laptop, between brainstorming ideas on what you can do for sae and replying to any of your colleagues who have no respect for the aspect of a time off.

after eventually deciding that nothing you think of can actually be good enough, you settle for just asking him straight.

yes, you’ll ask him later when he’s back and just be straight up with him about it. that way, you won’t waste your efforts on something vapid and sae would actually like it.

come afternoon, you dare yourself to fish out another shirt from his closet because you opened his fridge only to find absolutely nothing inside but a few bottles of salted kombucha. (which is absolutely not a qualifying substitute for lunch.)

it also won’t do for you to be wearing sae’s national jersey out to the supermarket and bringing more attention to yourself than necessary, so you tiptoe into his room even though he’s not there, in pursuit of a completely plain (or at least a more vague) t-shirt.

freely traversing his apartment like this makes you feel more than what you are, but you shake that thought away.

and there you were thinking eita was the one jumping the gun.

by the time the sun gives way to the moon and sae trudges his way back home—with a small spring in his steps that he can’t ignore—he walks into the apartment, reminding himself to say he’s home in the process.

it’s his first time coming back home to an apartment that’s not empty. it’s not something he thought he’d want to get used to. but knowing who’s on the other side of the door, he thinks it might be nice.

“hey, you’re back!”

there’s the usual uplifting lilt in your voice that he can’t ignore, can’t forget.

the sound of bounding footsteps that he can usually hear from the other apartments are infuriating but the ones that come from you makes his heart beat just a little bit quicker.

“hey,” he greets, the dull of his voice nearly being betrayed by the light in his eyes.

three seconds and you’re right in front of him, peering at him with inquisitive eyes. you do that cute head-tilt thing you always do when you have questions.

“what’s that?”

you point your finger in the direction of his neck, and he cranes his head toward the mirror hung on the corridor to see what you mean.

a big red lipstick stain on the side of his neck. or mauve, as the makeup artist calls it.

sae sighs to himself. so that’s what his assistant meant when she tried to call him back saying they’re not done with him yet.

“are you too eager to go home or something?”

that’s what she asked when he ignored them and left the set the moment everything was over.

“oh, uh, photoshoot.”

it’s always simple, his answers. what’s not simple are bianca’s natural reactions. he can just envision her face if she was in your position instead; the slight twitch in the corner of her lips, the pout that comes after to mask her disdain, the questioning to come.

that’s why it’s a built-in reaction for sae to elaborate.

“it was—”

“i see.”

you both speak at the same time. sae doesn’t know what to think.

the slight confusion on your face is represented by the raise of your brows, before it quickly gets replaced by a giggle, and then your fingers find the box of tissues and hand one to him.

“wanna wipe it off?” you ask. a simple question that makes him question a lot, actually.

only because he’s been conditioned to think all girls are a carbon copy of bianca behaviour-wise and you just happen to prove otherwise.

“oh! or did you want to wash up first?”

how long has he been standing there idly again?

sae just blinks as he stands in his doorway, stupid and dazed. he gets his bearings a few seconds later when you do that cute head-tilt thing in the other direction. he can’t stand seeing anymore of it or he’ll get an untimely reminder of how you tasted last night.

“yeah, i’ll go wash up, we can eat after.”

he still takes a piece of tissue without using it. he assumes you haven’t eaten dinner and only remembers he probably should ask first but he’s already closing his bedroom door behind him, his person of interest on the other side.

this idle state of confusion, of questioning his every move and every word; it’s not an experience he’s ever had before and he thinks it isn’t very pleasant.

on the field he never has doubts. always plan after plan, carefully crafted by the milliseconds. when something doesn’t work, he tries another. dribbles it past the troublesome one, pass it to one of his forwards. the one that can score.

it’s easy on the field.

easier than it is in front of you.

it still proves the same when he gets out of the showers, mind refreshed and vitality rejuvenated, only to come face to face with home-cooked dinner.

foreign, all alien, very welcome.

you’re rambling on about the three dishes you made and how you’re not sure if he’d like it. sae’s all in his head trying to think of excuses so that you can keep staying here.

for someone who’s spent most of his adulthood keeping people at arms’ length, your presence in his life now is half-exciting, half-concerning.

if he’s heard correctly from his assistant who nags him constantly about a possible budding love life at the height of his career, it’s how people get screwed over. how their plays get fucked up.

if she’s any reliable.

sae used to think he wouldn’t let anything come in the way of him and his career, because his career’s the only relationship he ever thought of having. until now. until you’re sitting on the side of the dining table that used to always be empty because he refuses to let anyone in.

until your smile paints the dull bland walls with colour for once and your food tastes unsettlingly like home. the kind of home he hasn’t visited in a while. the kind where it’s out of sight, out of mind that people don’t realise what they miss.

“how is it?”

you’re grimacing, like you’re expecting something bad. as if sae’s some sort of food critic. as if sae’s ever been anything but subjectively nicer to you.

“it’s not bad.”

really, he has nothing to compare it to. the last time he ever had home-cooked food was probably before he even started playing soccer. everything’s a blur when he tries to recall it, just the vague imagery of him and rin side by side with their legs dangling in the air of the high stools while their mother plates all the food he didn’t bother to memorise when he was, what, six?

he wonders if his brother remembers anything.

it’s enough strain on his mind that he’s finding this type of humdrum fascinating, when it’s with you. it doesn’t help that your hips brush when both of you wash the dishes together.

sae doesn’t really know what he’s doing and he only now realises that you went out earlier and got the groceries. he hasn’t thanked you yet, has he? should he?

everyday courtesy is lost on him.

it’s only after the dishes are washed and the countertops are wiped down that sae thinks maybe he should just express his gratitude.

“tha—”

“thank you, by the way.”

the both of you really need to stop saying shit at the same time.

you got it out first. sae’s such a loser. sae lets you continue.

“i know i’m imposing on you a lot, but…” your words get lost on you, and sae can sense the lack of explanation on your circumstances is a choice.

he wants to know you. there’s a stinging irritation in the back of his head knowing that otoya knows you better than he does.

it’s selfish. he knows. but sae’s always been selfish. in a sense.

“you can stay here as long as you need.”

it’s just sae’s pathetic attempt to ride on what you’re saying, to hopefully keep you here a little longer because somehow the walls don’t seem to suffocate when he comes back to you. the air seems clearer and the house becomes more like home, if he dares to say he knows anything of what that’s like.

he tries to gauge your reaction, trying not to crane his neck too far to the side to make it so obvious that he’s staring.

you’re comfortably perched on the couch, right next to him. there’s an annoyingly small gap in between you. he nearly misses the contact. your feet are on the cushion, hugged close to your chest, your eyes gazing at the little space of nothing between the air in front of you and his coffee table.

normally, he’d think that if someone extends an offer that they know you’d like, it’ll be taken without question. so he wonders why you still need to think.

his first guess is that you have a penchant need to not owe anyone anything.

his mind strays to how good you look in his other shirt. whenever you happened to take it. he’ll probably give you his entire closet if you ask for it.

half exciting, half concerning.

“thank you.” but you hesitate. you’re not looking at him yet. sae takes full advantage of that to look at you. at every smidge of movement in the muscles of your face. how your brows furrow half-heartedly, how your lips are pressed into a firm line.

he really wants to see your lips. want to taste them again. even if it means he has to go to bed and groan into the pillow instead of your mouth.

you give him what he wants when you start to speak again.

“is there anything i can do to repay you?”

there’s really no need.

sae shakes his head. “it’s fine, you don’t need to do anything.”

there’s a crease between your brow bones that beg to differ.

“no, really, i mean it. is there anything you need? anything you want me to do?”

there’s a really long, awkward pause as sae struggles to process your simple question. his adam’s apple bobs up and down. the walls and his glass windows start their suffocation game once more.

sae’s not sure you want him to tell you what he wants. he’s a visual thinker; and his mind isn’t anywhere but in the gutter.

between having a long day doing a photoshoot that doesn’t even interest him and having a female model as his partner when he keeps comparing her to you, sae can’t really keep it together after more than twenty years of keeping to himself.

he already has one of the couch pillows on his lap, just in case.

it’s already coming in handy thanks to what he’s thinking about.

sae shakes his head. “really, it’s fine.”

he’s half praying that you’ll just let it go so he can go back into the confines of his own room, feeling guilty that he’ll have to help himself to the thought of you but soothing his frustrations anyway.

the other half of him is praying for just you.

and that’s the part that’s alarming to him.

he nearly loses it when you shift, your elbow resting against the back of the couch, body turned to face him as if he hasn’t had a good enough look in his imagination that you have to bring it in real life.

yeah, he’s blaming you. because his brain’s short-circuiting and his synapses are failing him and he can’t seem to get his fucking eyes off of your lips.

he feels nearly shameless for staring at you point blank.

sae doesn’t know what expression you’re wearing now. he’s not sure he wants to know. are you offended or do you feel the same way you felt last night?

feelings can change like the season. or so he’s heard.

your voice is murmured; his thoughts are in the foreground. you say something along the lines of “what do you want, sae?” and he doesn’t have any of the carefully constructed self-control he’s had over the past few years.

so easily undone just by your mere presence.

“you.”

sae says that without thinking. it’s a chore, thinking. he keeps bouncing between shoulds and should-nots and it’s really fucking irritating.

“kiss me,” he tells you, more outright.

if you can tell him such a thing, you won’t punish him for saying the same, right?

here’s the spoiler: you don’t.

another spoiler: you feel like you’ve been waiting for him to tell you that all night.

barely a second into his request and you’re already fulfilling it. sae’s hand curves behind your neck, his calloused palm delicately placed on your skin. the other hand that’s free decides to pull you in, make it so you’re straddling him.

fuck, when did he get rid of the pillow?

your groan is enough indication that you feel him under you. the way he’s so stiff right now is nearly painful, only because the need it feels him with surpasses any sort of need he’s ever had.

both of you are half kisses and half pants. sae has no choice but to tip his head backwards as you roll your hips against his.

“shit,” he hisses, the hand on your neck crawling upwards to grab a fistful of your hair and tug it downwards. it doesn’t affect your hips in the least. why would it?

his other hand grips onto your waist, like he has to do that to make sure you stay there, make sure you keep moving against him. his eyes practically roll into his head, the sounds he’s so shamelessly making betraying any sort of stoic that he used to have in front of you.

a soft chuckle escapes you, and he pries his eyes open just to stare. the tilt of your face, the way your eyelashes brush against each other, that bite of your bottom lip—you’re a delicacy wrapped in his dreams.

“you’ve been thinking of this, huh?”

there’s a blush on his cheeks that he doesn’t let you see, releasing your hair and immediately letting his lips land on your neck. 

it feels nice to make you sound as undone, as needy as he is.

your chest pressed against him doesn’t do much to ease the tightening in his sweatpants. you still haven’t stopped rolling your hips.

right now it looks as if you’re the one with the better stamina.

his teeth latches onto your neck, head bowed, leaving a mark while you have to tell him to ease up a little on it. he’s learning.

he tries again.

better this time, from your lack of feedback.

“i hate what you do to me.” he sounds so stupid, so lost. it’s the vulnerability that’s annoying.

you try to catch your breath as he leans back against the backrest, both of you a bundle of nerves all out in the open. his hair’s mussed, but so is yours. sae’s still hard as fuck, a wet spot already formed on his regrettably light grey sweatpants.

maybe it’s your instinct that tells you to ask him your next question.

“have you ever done this before?”

you fail to clarify what this is, but if sae’s adept enough, you mean making out, and whatever else could happen after. humping. blowjobs. sex.

they’re all the same to sae either way.

“no, never.”

he’s still breathless.

you were halfway to catching your breath, but his admittal takes another pocket of air out of your lungs.

to sae, the silence that follows is painfully awkward. he’s good at guessing what players think on the field, but he’s an absolute goon at trying to guess what the girl he’s interested in is thinking when he just basically admitted he’s a virgin in all romantic aspects.

the only person that came close was bianca. and even then all they did was kiss.

this is the first time he’s ever wanted more.

“i don’t,” he pauses, his eyes momentarily fluttering shut as he thinks of ways to express this animal need to have you. “i don’t want you to repay me with anything.”

you settle your forehead on his, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. your breathing’s even. it helps him even his out too.

“but if you ask me what i want.” sae takes his time to shift his gaze towards you. your lips, your eyes. you’re so pretty it should be an insult to everyone else. “i want you to be my first.”

it sounds so fucking corny that a small part of him is shrivelling inside. it can’t believe he said something like that. he would’ve cringed if he heard it in movie theatres.

see how pathetic you make him feel?

“your first… what?”

he wants to chuckle. he knows you know. you’re probably being a little shit by asking him to admit it. but even so, he’ll give in to you.

because it feels right.

“everything.”

it could be that you don’t know what to say. it could be that you’re too eager. sae wouldn’t know.

but the way you kiss him next, the way you guide his hands under your shirt (it may as well be yours now), it knocks all wind out of his lungs, all the sense out of his brain.

for the first time, sae finds his hands on your bare chest. it makes a noise come out of him, one that’s equally greedy and needy. he gives it a squeeze, make sure you pay him one back.

your lips are on his lips but by now you’re barely kissing, more open panting and desperate hands pawing at each other.

he takes your nipple between his fingers, giving it a light pinch. your back arches, a sinful sight in front of him, one that he’ll probably have to use for a while if you’re not around.

how can one person have this much control over his desires? that’s a foul.

your hips resume their rolling just for a little bit only for them to stop when you pull back. your hand is on his chest, lips shiny from being subject to his mouth. sae already wants to touch you some more, both his hands relegated to his sides.

“i wanna suck you off.”

you say that so casually that sae’s doing the blushing for you.

if it’s even possible, he gets even harder, and you take the twitching you see as a yes.

you get on your knees in front of him, sat in the spot between his legs, knees folded against the cold floor. sae grabs your wrist before you can pull his pants down, committing himself entirely to the moment.

“take your shirt off first.”

yeah, that request—demand?—shouldn’t roll so easily off his tongue. yet here he is, letting it. the wet patch on his pants is shameful enough. what else does he have to lose?

he finds it near endearing that you don’t hesitate to pull his shirt off over your shoulder. sae’s eyes drag shamelessly over your breasts as he takes in the view. he nearly fails to stop himself from telling you to suck his dick already because it’s getting harder to ignore the wanton need it has for you.

nothing else has to be said.

you divest him of his sweatpants, his cock hitting his shirt as it springs free, near the spot around his bellybutton, the wet patch spreading on his old jersey. you’re looking at his cock, then looking at him, then back at his length—it makes him nervous.

the moment you wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, he sucks in a sharp breath, head tilted towards the ceiling. it’s different than when he touches himself.

your fingers are smaller, more delicate than his. it feels good. feels even better when you give his tip a little kitten lick, and he’s almost sure you’re just experimenting now, just checking how he’s reacting to every single gesture.

sae’s doing everything in his goddamn power to keep it all together.

he can’t even look at you. that’s a sure fire way to end everything the moment he does.

a strained groan leaves the back of his throat as you pump his cock painfully slow. he doesn’t know if this is the norm. if it is, he hates it.

then comes what he’s been imagining: your tongue flat on his length, licking a stripe up his cock, your hand around it pumping a little bit quicker, still as gentle.

“shit, that feels good,” he finds himself admitting without much thought.

is he supposed to have any thoughts when you’re blowing him so impossibly good like this?

you don’t say much, and you can’t, not when your mouth slowly wraps around his cock and his tip starts hitting the back of your throat. your rhythm is steady at first, like it’s a tease, like it’s just a hell of an opening act.

sae’s hips start to buck upwards into your mouth, and you take it expertly. he dares himself to look at you when you start moaning around his cock, the sight of you so saccharine, so indulgent.

and then yep, there it is, the way his self control gets shredded into pieces, in the form of thick white ropes of cum in your mouth as he groans in resignation.

his eyes are still on you, this time he doesn’t want to look away anymore. he watches you as you swallow his cum, licking his tip just to watch him shudder in pleasure as he gets subjected to the slight over sensitivity.

your breasts still look beautiful. he still wants to play with them.

sae finds that maybe his courage got lost with his cum. it takes everything in him to pull you up onto the couch, this time back in your original position next to him. he kisses you, a blatant disregard for tasting himself on your tongue.

it catches you by surprise, he can tell. if the little squeal in your throat is any indication.

“i’m starting to feel like we’re in one of those landlord-tenant situations.” you’re probably joking. just like you always like to when there’s an awkward silence.

sae doesn’t really feel awkward though. so maybe this is something else.

“well, i mean, if that’s what you’re into.”

you playfully shove him away, rolling your eyes as you tug his shirt back on over yourself. a smirk finds its way onto your face.

“you’re still horny?” a rhetorical question. it’s only asked because sae’s still hard.

his walls are wider than it’s ever felt. than it’s ever been. than it’s ever allowed to be.

sae pulls his pants back on, eyes on you as you take mini steps towards his side of the apartment.

“what do you expect when that’s the best i’ve felt in my life?”

you stifle a laugh when even with his pants on, his tent is still so obvious.

you must be feeling a little bold, because you open up his bedroom door by yourself, giving him a look that he can only equate to come hither.

oddly, he doesn’t feel any sense of shame when his feet carry him to you. when his hands tug you into his room, when your feet tumble against one another’s and you end up on top of him on the bed.

he feels no shame letting you blow him again. he feels no shame letting you swallow all of him for the second time tonight.

there’s only a split second of bashfulness when he asks you to sleep with him. in the literal sense.

but you don’t see anything wrong with it. you don’t say anything. you don’t agree, you don’t reject. you only give a weak laugh as you lay beside him, his hair messed up to fuck and laying there questioning where all his stamina went.

you fall asleep within seconds, just laying there on your side of the bed.

sae takes one more chance at being shameless, wrapping his arm around your torso, letting himself fall asleep.

sae’s a winner.

he has a track record of all wins in all matches. he’s excellent at what he does. the calm and composed one. the one who has his shit together.

but right now he feels like a total loser.

sae brisks out of his bedroom, wondering if you treated him like a one night stand. even if he didn’t stick it inside you. even if he barely got a chance to help you.

jumping the gun, maybe, but he’s already thinking of ways to convince you that it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.

his brisk walk turns slow when he realises you’re just washing up in the guest toilet, an embarrassment hanging over his head at his slight overreaction.

when you waltz out of the bathroom, sae’s quick to act normal. can’t let you see any of his shortcomings just yet.

you spend yet another day at his apartment. this time, sae’s right there with you. doesn’t have to conform to any schedules, doesn’t have to wish the girl he’s spending time with is you.

because it is you.

turns out you also want to get to know him.

you open the windows and try meditating with him. the morning yoga comes right after.

“you really do this every morning?” you ask him while your body tries to adjust to the downward dog.

sae tries not to laugh.

“mhm.”

he runs slower than his usual speed later in the park. doesn’t want you to quit on him before you’ve even begun. you can only make it half his usual route and he acts like it’s normal, tells you you’re already very good.

sae squeezes in questions whenever he can.

slowly, at first. stuff pertaining to you and otoya’s friendship. stuff like university and middle school and how you slapped otoya he nearly quit being your friend.

you’re an open book when it comes to friendship.

you admit what you had with otoya was just physical, admit that you’ve never tried anything more, that it was a stupid phase and he’s really just a friend.

sometimes sae can’t help but wonder whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

he starts to ask about stuff you like when you’re preparing lunch together. he learns a little more about you the same time he’s learning how to chop vegetables right.

it’s harder than he thought.

both of it.

you used to like baking. you made some money with it. you love the smell of home cooked food and you’ve always wanted to try that bar you’ve heard about that serves killer sushi and is housed at the top of a skyscraper.

by the time sunset hits and the river that’s sold as part of his apartment’s view starts shimmering with the orange hue, he touches on the topic of your family.

that one, you’re not so keen about.

sae can tell from the drop of your smile and the light fading from your eyes. he tries to ignore it but he’s curious. aren’t they fundamentally who made you what you are?

he can’t help himself.

between the silences, all either of you can think about is what is this thing, between the two of you? but neither of you have the balls to ask.

the day is almost perfect.

sae doesn’t feel like he is who he always thought he was. he doesn’t feel like the revered soccer player that nearly everyone knows. he doesn’t feel like he has any larger-than-life obligations.

if this is what a normal day feels like between normal people, then he thinks maybe this is what he wants. the feel of you by his side, doing things together or even just existing.

there’s a calm you bring that he can’t find in anyone or anything else.

it’s different than the kind of serenity playing soccer gives him, but it makes him addicted all the same. his mind chants the same mantra the whole time—he wants you. just you. only you.

dinner’s ready and sae’s hungry. your stomach’s growling too, just as it was about half an hour ago. he’s placing the dishes on the dining table while you excuse yourself to check on your messages.

something about how your colleagues have no sense of personal space. something like that.

he expects to see you bounding out of the corridor as usual, a little hop in your footsteps. a hum to a tune he thinks you make up.

instead, what he gets is the heavy trudging of the heels of your feet, the same kind he gives oliver when he’s weary and groggy and just wants to go home instead of getting another drink.

sae’s a quick learner. he really is. he learned how to talk to you, learn more about you. he can learn how to tiptoe around subjects you don’t feel up for talking about.

but there’s this mulishly desperate part of him that aches to know more about you. especially when your expression shows a side of you he’s never seen.

he feels on edge. he feels out of the know. he feels like he has to know.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

your bag is looped around your shoulder, the frustration on your face eking into every part of your body. your movements are erratic, your arms swing by your side. it takes you too long to find your shoes in the genkan.

“nothing, i have to go.”

your voice quivers like you’re trying not to break. sae’s heart doesn’t know how to feel about that. his hand reaches out before he can consider alternatives. it wrestles to take hold of your wrist but you pull it away before he can get a firm grip.

“y/n, tell me.” he’s nearly pleading with you this time, his feet heavy in the entryway.

all he knows is that he doesn’t want you to go. doesn’t want you to feel however you’re feeling alone.

but he doesn’t know a thing about you when it comes to whatever this is. and where the walls expanded, they crash down all over him the same. you’re shutting him out, a punishment that he was pardoned off all along until this moment.

when you don’t say a word, just stand with your back facing him as you struggle to put your shoes on right, sae tries again.

his head doesn’t know when to tell him that enough’s enough. doesn’t know the little nooks and crannies of you that prefer to be left alone sometimes.

“oh my god, what do you want?”

this time, you turn around and face him, and he’s not quite sure how to process the fact that there are already tear streaks on the side of your face.

“tell me what’s going on, let me help you.” sae’s not sure either how he managed to say that without choking on his words. he’s a mix of fear and concern. like if he says a single thing wrong and you’ll slip away forever.

his words make your heart ache. they do. because you want to believe that. you want to believe he means it. but the excessively distrustful part of you, the one that remembers baring your heart out to your partner only to have it flipped around on you is the one that’s ruled your mind since the relationship ended.

protect yourself. even in the wrong ways. just leave them before they get to leave you. disappoint them before they get a chance to do that to you.

a scoff leaves your throat, more harsh than you intended it to be.

“help me? itoshi, you barely know me.”

your heart drops. you’re sure sae’s drops further. the words come out of you uncontrollably.

you’re sorry. very sorry.

“what can you help me with, huh?” the slight upturn on your lips is all sneer and vile and nothing nice.

sae only hears you out.

you wish he somehow hears the words you’re thinking instead of what you’re saying.

you’re sorry.

“listen, you’ve been very nice to me, thanks. i’m pretty sure there are lots of other girls out there more deserving than me, so really, i’m grateful that you wasted a couple of days on me.”

sae’s expression doesn’t change. a subtle mix of confusion and heartache and you want to kill yourself for being so stupid.

“but we’re nothing to each other, okay? we’re barely even friends! you don’t need to concern yourself about me.”

it’s like you can feel the effort that’s waiting to pour out of him. the kind that would threaten you to take a step back and pour your heart out instead of letting your sharp tongue loose.

you can’t risk that. you don’t think you can.

“the jig’s up. i tried making friends with you so i could get more scoop, okay? it’s easier for you to approve it if you like me. that’s all there is to it. so please, i’m begging you,” you pause, the words catching in your throat because you could never mean them. “please just leave me alone.”

that seems to do it.

the effort that was waiting to pour out feels like it stopped. sae doesn’t have any other words to say. he doesn’t waste his energy on stopping you as you leave the apartment, letting the heavy mahogany close behind you naturally.

you don’t look back.

sae doesn’t look away.

it’s foolish of you to think that an escape with sae could help. it puts things off. it doesn’t help. nothing does. you should’ve known better by now.

you rush out of his building, a haze of gormless mixed with desultory. you don’t notice anything or anyone else. not even the figure that stares at you in shock as you exit the lift.

these two days were the best days of your life.

now it’s time to wake up.

she’s both the reason and the bane of your existence. 

your mother desperately points towards you when you make your way towards your front door. she has absolutely no qualms about giving you up just so she can see another day.

there’s multiple men by your front door. big, burly men. a lean, muscular one stands in the middle, his hand holding a fistful of your mother’s hair.

it’s the first time you’ve seen them. you’ve lost track of how many loan sharks your mother knows.

it takes nearly half an hour and half a million yen to shut them up and get them on their way. not without the leader among them giving you a kiss on the cheek and a warning that you won’t get to save your mother so easily the next time.

pervertic. that’s what you think his thoughts are.

usually you’re magnanimous. you’d let your mother get a word or five in before you give up on listening. tonight, you’re not so.

she’s just ruined your perfectly constructed dream day with someone who seems so foolishly earnest you nearly feel bad for him having to associate with someone like you.

someone with problems like this.

you walk the same path. you lock your own door and slump onto your own bed. you can hear the annoying springs and the chip of the paint surrounds you. right now you’re coming undone faster than the paint.

it isn’t raining but you wish it is. maybe it’ll be easier to drown out the noise of you crying. right now you’ll have to settle for burying your head in your pillow, the only comfort of your earlier time spent with sae arrested in the confines of his shirt you wore home.

a call comes in and you forget to check who it is. you pick it up without much thought.

if it’s sae you’ll just hang up. he shouldn’t have to associate with someone like you. someone who’ll only bring him problems.

but it’s not sae.

“oi, idiot.”

you’d recognise the voice of your best friend anywhere, through any medium.

you don’t say anything. you can’t, really. not when both your nostrils are blocked and if you open your mouth you’d just make an insufferably pained noise.

eita doesn’t say anything for a while either. he only hears the slightly muffled sound of your sniffing. it takes him only a second to extend himself.

“spare key still under the vase?”

you let out a noise of acknowledgement. he’s your best friend. he knows how to tell apart your responses by noise. he should understand.

he does.

you hear the familiar sound of his kawasaki revving to life.

“wait for me, okay?”

you do. only because you can’t sleep and eita likes to speed. he’s good at riding his bike so you’re never worried. he makes it there faster than you think he ever did.

there’s no shrill nagging when he unlocks the door. your mother must either be asleep or she’s already off trying to make your life more of a living hell. either way, it’s good she’s not here.

fuck her.

when he comes through your door, his own set of keys for your room nestled safely in his keychain, he doesn’t say a word. he only takes his place behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulder, resting his chin on your head as you involuntarily sob into his arms.

he doesn’t say a thing. doesn’t need to.

his arms are a comfort in itself.

it’s familiar. never foreign. never scary.

re: taglists — since it’s been a while, i’ll discontinue the old taglist & start a new one :) it’s cool if you don’t want to be tagged anymore ! if you still do, just let me know !! but please make sure you are 18+ and have your age somewhere obvious & visible on your blog <3

[fluentmoviequoter]

Happy Scary Halloween

Requested Here!🎃👻

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!SWAT!fem!reader (w/ daughter from previous relationship)

Summary: Lucy asks you and your daughter to help prank your boyfriend Tim on Halloween, but he isn't the only one who gets scared.

Warnings: vague spoilers for Megan (2022), quotes from other horror movies, fluff!

Word Count: 1.9k+ words (I had fun with this one haha)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“Coming with?” your teammate asks. “We’re meeting at Fanny’s.”

“Not tonight,” you answer softly, looking down at your shoes.

“Mid-Wilshire will be there,” she adds, shaking her shoulders as she watches you.

Rubbing your neck to hide your reaction to the mere thought of Tim Bradford, you murmur, “I have to pick up my daughter.”

“Ugh, fine,” she concedes. “You get a pass this one time. But you can get a sitter – shoot, I’ll watch her next time if it gets you out for a few hours.”

“Thanks.”

You leave the locker room and walk through the station, unable to keep your mind from drifting to Tim and when you’ll get to see him next. You’ve been dating for a few months, and your daughter gets along with him well, but it’s been just the two of you for so long that you are unsure if you’re comfortable with taking the next step. Tim is quite possibly the love of your life, and you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, but your daughter comes first. I need to buy her a Halloween costume, you remember as you get in your car.

“What do you want to dress up as this year?” you ask your daughter, who rests against your shoulder as you watch an old Halloween movie.

She shrugs and moves closer, wrapping you in an awkward hug. “Any ideas?” she asks you. After speaking, she shakes her head and mumbles about the character on screen being dumb for going into a cemetery alone.

“Depends,” you answer. “Do you want to be cute, scary, something in between?”

“I dunno. Maybe we should ask Lucy for help.”

You nod and smile. “Probably.”

While you relax in the comfort of your home, watching the end of a movie with your daughter, Tim sits at a table in a diner surrounded by other police officers. The days leading up to Halloween are usually some of the worst days of the year for cops, rivaled only by Halloween itself and Spring Break. He’s tired and wants to see you, but his department put in a lot of work over the last few days, and Angela guilt-tripped asked him to come.

“Any big Halloween plans?” Lucy asks as she slides into the booth seat across from Tim.

Tim shakes his head and leans back in the seat.

“You’re going trick or treating aren’t you?” she guesses. “Getting soft now that you’re in love, huh?”

“Watch it, Chen.”

“What’s my honorary goddaughter dressing up as?” Angela inquires.

“Honorary goddaughter?” Tim repeats, raising his brows. “What?”

“Just tell me what she’s going to be, Timothy.”

“I don’t know, don’t think they’ve decided yet.”

“They? Oh my gosh, I love them so much,” Lucy gushes. “I wish my mom and I got along like they do.”

“What can you expect? They’re both shy,” Angela points out, “and they’ve had each other through everything.”

“You and Wesley giving out full-sized candy bars again?” Tim inquires, attempting to move the conversation away from you and your daughter.

“Of course,” she scoffs. “And we’ve got a bet going to see which costumes will be most popular this year. He’s thinking Spider-Man, I’m thinking Hermoine or Megan.”

“Megan?” Lucy repeats, his eyes widening in a way that Tim knows too well – she has an idea.

“Don’t start, Chen,” Tim sighs.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“C’mon, Lucy,” Angela beckons, “let’s go where we’re appreciated. There’s some firefighters from the 118 back there, maybe we can get you a date for the Halloween party.”

“As long as his costume isn’t a shirtless firefighter,” Lucy stipulates as she follows Angela. “Once was enough.”

Tim checks his phone, unsurprised to see you haven’t texted him. Yet, he smiles when he sees the picture of you and your daughter on his wallpaper. Maybe he is getting soft, but not for anyone except you.

Across the diner, Lucy drops her voice to communicate her idea to Angela, Nyla, Nolan, Grey, and Wesley. It will take some convincing, and a few minutes of practice, but it has the potential to be amazing. Most impressive, it might actually scare Tim Bradford.

“If I get punched, I’m blaming you,” you murmur to Lucy as you straighten your costume.

“If he punches you, Angela will punch him back,” she replies. “But I don’t think he’s going to go that far. I want him to run, not react.”

“We are talking about the same Tim Bradford, right?”

“He’s on his way,” Angela announces. She turns to your daughter and asks, “Are you ready?”

“Yep!” your daughter answers, smiling at you. “I’ve been practicing.”

“This is the best Halloween ever!” Lucy exclaims.

“I’m still saying it doesn’t work,” Wesley calls from down the hall, where he’s setting up a fog machine.

“Have a little faith, Wesley!” Angela replies. “He loves them, his guard won’t be as high.”

Your cheeks warm at her comment, and you walk to your daughter to fix her wig and dress instead of replying to Angela’s claim. Tim does love you, you know that, but it doesn’t make it easier to remain impassive or collected, for that matter, when someone else points it out.

“All these years of SWAT training to just prank him with a creepy doll movie,” you muse quietly.

“Hey, that’s a good point,” Nolan replies. “If he punches you, just use that training.”

You look over your shoulder to scowl at Nolan, but his eyes meet yours, and he smiles, so you turn away quickly. Tim will arrive any minute, so Lucy turns the lights off, starts the music she made for this prank, and everyone moves into place as the fog machine whirs.

The front door opens, and you inhale deeply but silently, just as before a raid. It clicks closed, and you count Tim’s steps before he flips the light switch. Nothing happens thanks to Nolan flipping the breakers, and Tim’s movements grow quieter but not impossible to track. In time with his soft breaths, you tap Lucy once… twice… and then lay your palm flat against her arm.

A spotlight in the corner of the hall comes on, dim and buzzing lowly, as it illuminates your daughter, dressed as Megan and standing with her head down. The replica katana Wesley brought glints on the table from your position but should be invisible to Tim. He moves into the hallway and narrows his eyes as your daughter looks up. The blue contacts Angela helped her put in seem to glow as she watches him.

Suddenly, the music changes and your daughter steps to the side, beginning the dance from the movie as she moves down the hallway and nears Tim. Pushing off of the wall, she spins and lifts the katana. With a deep breath, she does the measured lunge Nolan helped her learn and stabs the blade toward Tim. He jerks backward just as the light turns off. Your daughter giggles as she disappears into a dark bedroom.

Though he can’t see you, Tim is only feet from you as he turns in a slow circle in the dark. Lucy’s music fades before Megan says, “This is the part where you run.”

All the lights in the house come on as Nolan flips the breaker, and you wait behind Tim. When he turns again, he steps back quickly at the sight of you. Sitting in a chair and dressed as Annabelle, you let your head drop to your shoulder before Angela and Wesley throw several dolls out of the doorways in the hall, letting them land with clear thuds on the hallway floor.

Tim steps back, narrowly missing the table while he backpedals toward the door. You’re admittedly shocked at how well this is going, but you’re also beginning to feel a bit of remorse for pranking him like this.

“You need to learn some manners, Tim,” your daughter says, stepping back into view with the katana hanging from her hand.

Tim reaches for the doorknob, then stops. He watches her for several silent seconds, then says her name. With his complete focus on your daughter, you stand and place the life-sized Annabelle doll in your chair.

“That-“ Tim begins, leaning forward to place his hands on his thighs. “That was pretty good.”

“You were scared,” your daughter taunts, bouncing in place. “We did it!”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Wesley murmurs as he turns off the fog machine.

“Add that to your Tim Tests!” Lucy exclaims, emerging from the kitchen.

“I should’ve known you were involved.” Tim turns toward ‘Annabelle,’ and says, “Okay, you did it, you can get up now.”

The doll doesn’t move, and he looks at Lucy, who keeps her eyes on the white dress and shakes her head. Tim walks to the chair and lays his hand on Annabelle’s shoulder, causing her to tip onto the floor.

“Where’s Mom?” your daughter asks, looking between Angela and Lucy.

“She was Annabelle,” Lucy murmurs slowly. “I didn’t have a doll.”

“We didn’t either,” Angela adds. “She has to be around here somewhere.”

“Nolan, if this is-“

“It’s not me,” Nolan interrupts. “This wasn’t in the plan.”

“Tim,” your daughter calls, more of a squeak than anything, as she points to a trail of red droplets leading toward the side door.

Tim leads the way, followed closely by Angela, Lucy, and Nolan, while Wesley waits inside with your daughter. They exit the house and see bullet casings scattered across the small patio but no sign of anyone.

From your position on the roof, you can see their expressions, the worry and fear they’re attempting to mask – likely for your daughter’s sake.

“I see dead people,” the speaker you mounted below the patio covering whispers.

“Do you think she’s doing this?” Lucy whispers.

“I don’t know that she could,” Angela points out.

You smile beneath your mask, moving closer to the edge. Pressing a button on your phone, the speaker plays a dial tone before shifting to a quiet static sound.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” you ask from the roof.

Tim, Angela, Lucy, and Nolan turn quickly, and Nolan presses his hand over his heart as he sighs. You don’t know what you look like, perched precariously on the roofline in a Scream-face mask with a long black robe rippling in the breeze, but clearly, it worked to scare Tim even more.

You pull the mask off and smile. “So, did we scare him?”

“Him?!” Lucy repeats. “You scared us!”

 Tim smiles suddenly, and your eyes drift to his chest.

“You scared your daughter, too,” he points out, clearly proud of himself.

“Did I?” you challenge softly.

Wesley and your daughter exit the house, and she smiles as she looks at Tim. He shakes his head and hugs her, then demands that she change or at least take out the contacts.

“Happy Halloween, Tim,” you call.

When they turn around to find you, your position on the roof is empty, not even a shadow of your robe is left as evidence you were ever there.

“Thanks,” you tell your SWAT teammates as you land on the ground in your front yard. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh, we got the good end of this deal,” your teammate says. “Bradford trying to get out of the house without any sudden movements was golden. And it’s all on video. Good luck dealing with him now.”

You sigh as they leave and return to the backyard, where Tim cups your face and demands eye contact. You squirm in his hold, and his smile widens.

“I’m getting you back next year,” he promises.

“Ooh, I’ll help!” your daughter agrees, moving to stand beside you both, her shoulder pressed to yours.

You, however, get caught in the idea that they both want to be here, beside you and with you, again next year. It’s a happy Halloween, indeed.

[moonstruckme]

Last one - I promise - I think- I hope 🙃🌻🌻

Can I request- apple pie rich vanilla perfume - for Spencer Reid

Thank youuu 🌻

Haha thank you for your requests my love! They were fun :) Also sorry in advance for the ending of this one it feels awkward to me but I couldn't figure out how to end it

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 535 words

The amalgamated scent of your shower products follows you out of the bathroom, your hair wetting your shoulders. It makes you shiver, but you leave Spencer’s bedroom window open to let the cool night air in a while longer. 

“Do you have hot chocolate mix?” you ask Spencer, padding towards the kitchen. 

“No.” His voice comes from the living room, and you hear the couch springs creak as he gets up. “Just tea and coffee. If you want hot chocolate, though, I could go get some.” 

“That’s okay, tea sounds good.” You start pulling open cabinets, looking for it. Spencer appears a moment later. 

He touches your shoulder to encourage you back as he opens a drawer. There are more nighttime teas than caffeinated ones, most of them unopened. You wonder if they were gifts. 

“Thanks.” You glance up to flash a smile at him, then startle. 

Spencer’s hand flattens to your shoulder as if to steady you. His brows twitch together at your expression. “What?” he asks. 

“Nothing. Just…you’re in a hoodie.” 

“Oh.” He looks down as though he’d forgotten. “Yeah.”

“You’re in my hoodie.” 

His eyes meet yours again, the color of melted chocolate and twice as sweet. “Is that okay?”

You nod, your fingers finding the ribbed cuff at the end of his (your?) sleeve. They run over it absently. “Yeah, it’s okay. It just surprised me. I’ve never seen you in anything so casual.” 

“Really? I think I dress casual,” he says, softly, almost as if he’s wondering to himself. 

“I guess I’ve just never seen you in….loungewear,” you clarify. You let your touch skim upwards, pinching the fabric halfway up his arm. Spencer comes out of his musings to give you a soft smile. You mirror his expression. “It’s cute.”

His lips twitch at your word choice. “It’s okay that I didn’t ask before borrowing it? You just left it on the couch when you went to shower, and it always smells really nice.” 

“Yeah, it’s okay.” You start rifling through the tea drawer, feeling your face warm slightly. “It smells nice?” 

“Well, it smells like you.” It’s not flirtatious or even particularly kind, only matter-of-fact. “Vanilla, like that perfume you use.” 

“You like it?” 

“Yeah, I do.” You can feel Spencer’s gaze on the back of your neck. “I mean, it smells better on you, but the sweatshirt is a nice substitute for when you’re not nearby.” 

“Oh, wow.” You pick out your tea, turning to him with your eyebrows raised. “I can be replaced by a hoodie? That’s how much I mean to you?” 

Spencer knows you’re only playing with him, his lips curving. “That’s not what I said.” 

You break immediately. He’s too sweet to tease for long. Your arms come around his neck, your chin resting on the soft fabric covering his chest. 

“I can’t smell it anymore,” you say. “I think I must be too used to it.” 

Spencer holds your back with one hand, and with the other brings the collar of your sweatshirt over his nose. His inhale is subtle enough that you can barely hear it even this close. 

“It’s still nice,” he tells you. “But anything would be, on you.”

[sharpedgedfool]

Winter Fairies! Figured out a way to include the robots without it being too far out I think!

More rambles under the cut:

Rouge is Mistletoe! Seemed fitting, it has the romantic symbolism but it's actually quite a nasty plant and steals resources from other trees! She's proud of her berries, she sees them like pearls and after seeing mortals create jewellery she's taken to swiping the real ones too. Seeing mortals romanticise her plant's gotten to her head a bit, so she doesn't like to be seen without an extravagant dress. Winter fae don't die annually, so they can afford to create longer-lasting clothing out of cloth and furs that aren't made out of plants. Rouge has a sort of jumpsuit underneath out of her leaves, but prefers layers to keep warm so she doesn't freeze over like some other fae.

Omega is the Holly bush, and he hides away in this bulky armour made out of thorns, bark and wood. He has a 'false face' made out of berries, but he peeks out from gaps in the wood. No one knows what he really looks like, but he's gotten incredibly proficient about launching berries at people so no one dares try to find out. A select few have seen his real face though, Hope is often the one to help rebuild his exterior if it gets damaged somehow.

Hope is Snowdrop, a flower that symbolises hope (haha) She's a clumsy flier, but makes up for it by being able to fix anything she accidentally breaks! She's one of the only flowers to bloom during Winter so she likes to show off her petals as a dress, even if its cold! Luckily, by the time her flowers bloom Spring's starting to warm the place up.

Metal Sonic's the Crab Apple fairy, he flies around in the cold unbothered so his skin's sort of frosted over and has a metallic sheen, it also makes him super aerodynamic. Winter fae have a more vicious appearance, and his claws can do major damage if he wishes. He doesn't have a mouth as he has no need to speak, but enjoys company on occasion. He's one of the fastest fliers of all the fae, but keeping to himself means most don't know about him. Crab apples and wild cherry look pretty similar, and so do damselfly and dragonflys, so it's fun to have Sonic and Metal mirror each other still!

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

I love reading kidnapping whump. However, the thing I really enjoy is reading the process of being kidnapped. Like, I enjoy the chase just before whumpee gets dragged away.

I really dislike when the story doesn’t describe how the whumpee gets captured or even “whumpee felt a prick and felt their eyes close”. I feel like a good kidnapping story needs to make my heart sink.. I guess I just like the juicy details 🥰🥰

Just something I wanted to share. Haha

Yes! YES! Honestly all whump is in the details; you just gotta find people that appreciate the same details as you. I 100000% agree that the process of kidnapping is overlooked all too often. 

We need more whumpers that are sadistic during the kidnapping, not just afterwards. Whumpers that like the chase and the power trip that comes with catching whumpee, not just owning them. 

They could make it quick. Stick them with something fast acting, manhandle them into place while the drug kicks in. They'd be done in minutes, no fuss or issue. 

 But what would be the fun in that?

So they don’t. When they finally get ahold on Whumpee, easily pinning their flailing limbs to the side, Whumper only injects them with a half dose. Not enough for them to escape, mind you, but enough for them to think they have a chance.

And then Whumper let’s go. And then they watch.

What does Whumpee do? From the moment the needle enters their body, they’re on a timer. Every beat of their terrified heart is bringing them closer to oblivion, makes the distance between danger and safety seem so much wider. There's nobody to help them, nobody in sight but their attacker. What can they do?

Does Whumpee try to fight back? 

They send an elbow back into Whumper as soon as the arms around them give way, whirling around with angry, terrified eyes. Fear sends their heart pounding as their gaze locks onto Whumper. They see those cunning eyes and lean muscles, see the shine of something metallic in their attacker’s hand.

Wumpee sees the emptiness around them, both vast yet horrible claustrophobic. There’s nowhere to run.

They’re terrified, they’re helpless. And in that moment, anger worms its way into Whumpee’s heart. It’s fueled by panic, a sort of prey rage bred from true helplessness, but it’s enough to spring Whumpee into action. In that moment, they realize the only way out is through Whumper. 

So they rush forward, lashing out like a cornered animal. There’s nothing graceful about their attacks. Each push does more damage to themselves than their target, most kicks don’t even land at all. Every swing is a flailing, pathetic thing, fueled by nothing but blind panic. 

And Whumper isn’t even fighting back. They block each blow with expert precision, not even bothering to restrain Whumpee’s movements. Whumpee’s putting everything, everything into their struggle, and Whumper isn’t even breaking a sweat. There’s no sign of effort or strain in Whumper’s movements, none of the desperate urgency Whumpee feels. There’s only that grin on Whumper’s face, cruel and mocking, like they’re enjoying it

A scream tears its way from Whumpee's throat. It’s full of frustration and terror,  a high pitched whine that comes out like a half sob. They keep fighting, trying to knock down the unmovable wall in front of them. 

But Whumpee can’t keep it up forever. They’re slowing by the second; with each beat of their heart, the sedative is spreading throughout their bloodstream. Each swing is weaker than the last, sloppier. They’re swaying on their feet within minutes, barely standing against the growing static in their mind. They can’t stop the world from tilting around them.

It only sends another wave of terror through Whumpee. They keep pushing. 

But terror can only take them so far. Whumpee’s heart freezes in their chest as Whumper effortlessly grabs one of their weakly swinging fits. They don’t let go. Whumpee pulls, and they don’t let go. They kick and whine, too exhausted to even properly scream, and Whumper’s hold stays firm. Each effort to escape only sends another wave of unnatural exhaustion through their body. 

The sensation of the drug working into their system is suffocating. It forces their pounding heart to slow, smothering their terror under a thick haze, sapping the energy from their limbs. The fear is still there, still overwhelming, but they just can’t react to it anymore. 

Swaying on their feet, all they can do is stare into the triumphant, predatory eyes of their captor.

Finally, they drop. Whumpee’s body tilts forward without their control, slumping into Whumper’s chest. They're caught effortlessly as their legs finally give out, pulled into a half-hug as Whumper supports their weight. Everything in Whumpee tells them to pull away, to bite or scream or anything. But they can't force their body to respond. But they can't form a plan, can't think beyond the haze clouding their mind.

The last thing Whumpee feels as their vision fades is their body being lifted into someone's arms.  They don't have the strength left to fight it.

Or maybe Whumpee runs?

They push away from Whumper the moment they’re free, taking a stumbling step away from their attacker. Before terror can kick in, there’s only surprise, maybe even anger. They turn to face Whumper on instinct, some angry rebuke already on their lips. 

Whatever they’d been about to say died in their throat the moment they look back. Whumper is simply standing there, as if they were waiting for something. There is no explanation in their expression. Not the anger of some scorned lover, not the frustration of a failed mugging. Whumper just stands there. Eyes sharp, eyes focused squarely on Whumpee, ready to strike at any moment. 

There’s something inhuman about it, about the absence if all expression but an animalistic intensity. It calls to something animalistic in Whumpee as well. Something that screams that Whumpee is staring down a predator ready to eat them whole. 

Terror comes to Whumpee slowly, like a pressure laying itself against their chest. As their expression morphs into terror, a grin splits Whumper’s face.

Whumpee’s running before they even realize it. Shoes slamming against the sidewalk, heart pounding in their chest in their mad dash to just get away. They don’t know where they’ll go, don’t know where they’d be safe. But anywhere, anywhere is better than with that monster. 

Their escape is graceless. They run half blind in the darkness, stumbling over obstacles in their mad dash. Tears are streaming from their wide eyes, mouth wide as they pull in desperate lungfuls of air. 

They can’t hear anything beyond their own ragged breathing. They don’t dare slow down, don’t dare turn around. They don’t know if they’d managed to escape or not, and so they keep running. 

The first wave of dizziness hits them like a truck, nearly sending them tumbling to the ground. It feels like the ground is shifting underneath them, tilting side to side like a boat in the ocean. 

They stop, not because they want to, but because they have to if they want to stay upright. Whumpee leans against the nearest wall, taking deep, shuddering breaths in hopes of chasing away the disorientation. 

It doesn’t help. With each inhale, it feels like their vision is growing dimmer, their body growing heavier. It’s not long until Whumpee is resting their full weight against the wall, barely remaining upright. Their attempts to collect their thoughts crumble as their mind wanders. Each wave of dizziness breaks their concentration, and it’s becoming harder by the moment to recollect themselves.

They’re exhausted. It creeps into them like a chill, and now that they’ve stopped moving the feeling is near overwhelming. 

Panic still flows through their mind, demanding that they move. But their body won’t listen. Whumpee’s limbs won’t move despite their fear. Their heartbeat has slowed despite their terror, a relaxed, sedated beating in their chest instead of the panicked drumming from moments before. Whumpee can feel their eyes closing without their consent, and it terrifies them. 

Whumpee can’t stop themselves as their legs give out on them. They fall like dead weight, head smacking against the sidewalk. All they can do is groan, a low pathetic keening that barely manages to creep past their lips. 

The pain is just enough to bring a spark of alertness back to their eyes. Just enough to bring back the memory of their attacker. The look in their eye, the expression that gave away no motivation but malice. The gleeful smile full of a hunger Whumpee couldn’t explain. 

The glint of something sharp and metallic on Whumper’s hands. The sharp pain in Whumpee’s neck seconds before they managed to pull away. 

The revelation makes Whumpee’s throat go dry. And suddenly that pain is the only thing they can feel, a pulsing ache from where they’d been stabbed. No, injected. They’d been drugged, and it’d taken them this long to realize it. 

In that moment, as Whumpee’s eyes finally slip shut, the faintest of smiles crosses their lips. It’s mirthless, almost angry. The broken smile of someone who's just realized all their effort was utterly pointless.

Whumpee’s not awake to hear the sound of even, confident footsteps approaching them. 

It doesn’t really matter what they do. Stay and fight, run and hide, it’s futile.

And that’s the point. The point is the struggle, the desperation that can only exist when there’s a sliver of hope left. Even when that hope is an illusion, even when that hope only exists to be mercilessly crushed.

[scorpioriesling]

Bad Idea, Right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien x reader

Warnings: SMUT oh my -- 18+, MDNI

Summary: Do they like eachother? No. Did they want to go on this mission together? Also, no. Did they plan to share a bed tonight? Definitely not! But are they complaining? Well...

SR’s Note: Using prompts #6, #17, #25, #50, #63, #72 as requested for @hardcoremarvelfan <3 This is absolute filth I hope this is what you wanted HAHA

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

“Why would Rhysand send you anyway? I’ve been a perfectly good emissary up until now.”

You couldn’t believe the gall that your High Lord had — sending an emissary from another court, just to help you with what you deemed a simple mission. You’d been to the Winter Court before, what was the deal with sending a Spring Court dweller with you?

“Must not be all that good,” the redhead chides. “Not good enough to travel to Winter to make a bargain, without me, that is.” You roll your eyes hard, continuing to walk two paces ahead of the Vanserra you were stuck with for the next few days.

“Whatever. You didn’t have to come, he isn’t technically your High Lord — he can’t make you do anything.” You purse your lips, hoping the dig hit its mark that Lucien technically didn’t belong to the Night Court. Hearing his exasperated sigh behind you, you know it did.

“So you say.” Is his only tired response. You had to admit, the dusk that had finally set over the horizon had you yawning every few minutes as well, the long day of travel finally catching up to you.

“Are you,” Lucien pauses behind you, and glancing back you catch his yawn as well. “…too tired to keep going?” He asks. “Maybe if you can’t complete this remedial request for your High Lord, you should head back. Get your beauty sleep.” He chuckles. You whip around to face him, a scowl plastered on your face.

“Get lost, Lucien.” You growl. He only stares past you, which has you glancing at the clearing beyond. A small trail of smoke breaks across the skyline.

“Hmm. An inn. How lucky.” You shrug. Lucien rolls his eyes, striding past you.

“I’d only be so lucky to have a few hours apart,” he scoffs.

You gasp dramatically, walking quicker than you’d like to catch up. “Oh please, you’d only be so lucky to spend the night with me.” Lucien simply shakes his head, continuing on his war path toward the inn.

And oh, was he lucky that night.

“You really don’t have anything else?” Lucien pleads with the pretty female behind the front desk. She sighs, shaking her head apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, this is the last room we have for the night.” She seems to address the both of you, however her eyes are glued to Lucien. He sends her a soft smile, taking the key she’s holding out for him.

“That’ll just have to do then.” He glances at you, and you roll your eyes. “Thank you.” The woman nods eagerly, and you are walking toward the stairs in an instant.

“I can’t believe this is all they had left.” You complain, setting down your pack and approaching the unmade bed. Lucien softly closes the door, glancing at your motions to prepare the bed with the clean sheets folded atop it.

“Better than nothing.” He deadpans. You begin stretching the sheets over the corners of the bed, quickly working on one side, then the other. Lucien simply watches, arms folded.

“It’s no wonder you’ve taken so many lovers,” he teases. “With the way you always make a show of bending over like that-“

“Ya know, I could really use your help, not your attitude.” You interject. He simply chuckles, moving toward the small bathing chamber attached to your bedroom.

“Or I could make the best use of my time in the shower.” He smirks, opening the door.

“Whatever. You’ll do what you want anyway.” You continue wrestling with the corner of the sheet you have handy.

“And I’ve never taken any lover, not of enjoyment, anyway.” You mutter as the door finally shuts behind him.

Once you’re finally satisfied with the bed presentation, you’re quick to change into the tank and shorts you have with you, the sheets providing comfort as you lay upon them. You can’t help but glance around for an open window as a chill hangs in the air, but you find none. Just another cold, barren night, spent with none other than Lucien. Fantastic.

You’re snuggled under the covers when the bathroom door opens, steam rolling out and momentarily warming your exposed skin. Lucien doesn’t bat an eye as he changes into nothing but sleep shorts before you — thank the Gods his back is turned. You can’t help but watch every muscle in his back as he tugs them on, blushing at the intruding thoughts creeping in.

No. Lucien was… annoying, remember? Annoyingly beautiful, yes, but ugh, could he get under your skin. Almost as easily as he was getting under the blankets beside you.

“Hands to yourself, Y/N.” He grins as he turns on his side, his back facing you once more. You scoff, your eyes narrowing at the back of his head and the dampened locks splayed on the pillow beneath.

“Please, Lucien. Spare me for once.” You faux-beg. He turns slightly, nose scrunched.

“Hey, I don’t know what you think about alone at night,” he accuses.

“Who said I was alone?” You quip. Sure, he was right, but you’d never let him know that.

“Right,” he drawls. “I forgot about all the lovers you take to bed each night.” You don’t have the energy for another tiff, so you just lay quietly. He turns, laying on his back and looking sidelong at you.

“Or is it just your imaginations you have to get you through the nights?” He implies. “Your fantasies?”

You only narrow your eyes at him, but his light up at your reaction, a cruel smile curving his lips.

“Tell me, Y/N — do you fantasize about me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you smack his shoulder, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Lucien! Gross,” you chastise. He only laughs at you, and you turn away from him, staring now at the wall beside you. “Just do us both a favor and go to bed.” He only chuckles once more, the movement of his abdomen rather close to the small of your back than you’d noticed before.

You’d be an idiot to not notice the tension, the heat between you two warming your skin. You could practically feel his eyes staring into the back of your head. In seconds, he’s scooted close enough to spoon you, his hands lightly drifting to grip your chin between his fingers.

You barely have time to gasp as he says, “Beg for it.”

Your eyes widen, and you take in his darkened features as he tilts you to face him. He’s solely focused on you, his eyes switching between yours and your lips — you can’t help but do the same. His features are illuminated in the small candlelight of the room, highlighting the panes of his face flawlessly. You know you shouldn’t — and this is a really bad idea, right?

“Oh come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “You’ve been such a tease…” he trails off, his idle hand tracing along the curve of your hip, snaking upward until it finds purchase on your left breast. His fingers slowly trace circles around your nipple through your tank top, and your breath comes out in short pants.

“If you really want me to go to bed, just say the words,” he purrs. You nod slowly, ever entranced by the stunning man moving beside you. This is wrong, this is so wrong-

“Lucien,” you whisper. He bites on his lower lip, reveling in the way your nipple hardens below his tantalizing touch. You wished you could bite it for him, put your mouth on his, let out your frustration for every second you’d been forced to be with him-

“Mhm?” He coos. You don’t say another word as he slides overtop of you, leaning in to press a small kiss to your collarbone. He continues a path of wet kisses down, leaving your top on and going right over top of it. Gods, why must he torture you?

Reaching the hem of your shorts, he glances to you for only a moment before yanking them down harshly. A small squeak leaves your mouth as he tosses them aside, the cool air hitting your core sending goosebumps over your skin.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So… pent up and needy.” He runs his index finger through your folds, gathering a trail of your wetness as he goes. You groan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Lucien, please,” you grit out. He chuckles below you, and slides his finger inside of your slick entrance. A hum of approval from you doesn’t go unnoticed as he slowly moves it in and out, eyes watching as your face contorts in pleasure.

“Good thing I’m here to take care of you, huh,” he teases. You glare at him, and he only adds speed to his ministrations which send another soft moan flying from your lips. His mouth finds your jawline, kissing across it before biting softly just below the soft spot where it meets your neck. You gasp, hands leaving their grip on the sheets and instead threading through the damp tendrils of Lucien's hair. He growls lowly, his palm roughly hitting your clit as he continues to pump two of his fingers now inside of you.

As you feel the pressure building in the bottom of your stomach, he pulls his fingers from you, and you whine, a silent plea for more. He chuckles again, bringing his fingers to your lips instead.

"Open." Is all he says, and you gaze up at him, popping your lips open as he slides in, allowing you to taste yourself. His thumb slides over the fat of your bottom lip as his lustful gaze travels from your lips sucking greedily on his fingers to the swell of your breasts still concealed beneath your tight top.

"Good girl," he purrs, and the action and praise alone have you rubbing your thighs together with the need for more. All of it has you questioning why you disliked one another so much to begin with...

"Tsk tsk," he pulls his fingers out, using both hands to spread your legs apart and shove your knees up to your chest in a mating press position. The cool air on your exposed pussy has your core throbbing, aching for a release you know he could give you.

"Lucien..." you groan. He leans in, positining himself between your legs with his lips so close to yours that you share a breath. His auburn hair falls from his shoulders in soft waves, tickling your collarbone.

"I told you," he mutters. "You'll have to beg me for it."

Ahh, there it is. The reminder of why you hated him so much; here it is. Arrogant, self-absorbed-

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckles. You glare up at him, your hand snaking between the two of you and dipping below the seam of his shorts. He's already hard, your fingers bracing around the length of his cock only draw a suprised grunt from him. He doesn't stop you as you begin quickly moving your hand, a tiny trail of precum wetting the top of your palm as you pump him. He groans in pleasure, his eyes closing for only a moment.

"No, a fox." You chuckle. His eyes snap open, finding yours to glower at you. In seconds, he sits back, too far from your grasp that you are forced to let go and retract your hand. His fingers grip the hem of your top, shoving it over your boobs and pulling it over your head without thought. He tosses it aside, not caring where it lands. He then pushes you into the mattress, his hips pinning yours and his hand holding one of yours above your head.

"You're really," his free hand finds his cock, sliding over it once. "…really...” another stroke. “…annoying," he sneers. You roll your eyes, breathing heavily underneath him in anticipation.

"Don't go thinking I'm doing this because I like you," you fire back. He chuckles, stroking himself slowly twice more before aligning himself with your entrance and slowly pushing himself inside. Your mouth drops open, and you meet his hauty gaze as he continues to push in, inch by inch.

"We'll see if you still hate me by the end of the night." He pulls out, almost all the way to the tip, and slams back in, all the way to the hilt.

"FUCK," you shout. He pulls out, again, slamming back in once more, and again, and again. Each time he pulls out less and less, his thrusts becoming faster and more needy as he continues to fuck all of himself inside of you.

"Lucien.... ohhhh fuck Lucien," you moan. He pants above you, his gaze drifting to where his dick is constantly pounding into you mercilessly, and you can't help but become more turned on by the sight of his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, low grunts of pleasure rolling from his throat. His hands move to grip the backs of your legs, pushing them up farther so he can continue to fuck you as deep as possible.

"Lucien... I'm-" You feel the heat already approaching, your stomach twisting with the need to release. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck... cum all over this cock Y/N," he growls. You gasp, the wave of pleasure crashing over you as his thrusts only speed up.

"Mmmmhm," he praises. You writhe at the overstimulation, squirming and crying out in pleasure as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. His fingers wrap around your neck as his other hand grips your hip to hold you still.

"We're not done yet," he grunts. You breathe deep, your breasts bouncing with every sharp hit of his cock inside of you, and his eyes meet yours.

"You take me so good, fuck... I won't last much longer." He sighs. You already feel another orgasm quickly building; but there's no way in Hell you'd let him know that. His ego definately didn't need it.

"Is this what you fantasize about, Lucien?" You say as sweetly as you can through your heavy breathing. You expect a snarky response, but you watch as Lucien's head tips back and he pounds into you harder. A soft groan rumbles from his throat, his eyes pinched shut in pure bliss. You have to admit — it’s one of the hottest scenes you’d ever seen, an image now burned into your brain whether you liked it or not.

"Gods, Y/N -- do you know how badly I've wanted you?" He breathes, and you stare silently up at him in shock. It's only a few moments before he realizes what he's admitted, his eyes widening in what looks like… shame?

Before you can think, rationalize your actions, you move your fingers along the skin of his hand still bracing your throat.

"Tell me exactly what you want." You whisper. He halts his movements, slowing down and leaning to your level. His lips are mere inches from yours, and although you'd really just want his mouth on yours right now, he stares at you through his half-lidded eyes and softly commands;

"Flip over -- ass up for me."

He releases the hold on your neck, and you scramble to do as he's requested, already missing the feeling of his big dick stretching you out so deliciously. Your legs tangle beneath you, and he moves only when you're leaning on your forearms with your butt in the air for him to grip your ass in his large, warm hands.

"Y/N... you're..." he sighs. You turn your face slightly, peering at him over your shoulder as he marvels at the way your butt moves when he squeezes it beneath his palms. It isn't long before he's moving behind you, his thighs brushing yours as the familiar stretch comes once more. He lets out a loud groan this time at the feeling, not taking as long to thrust into you once more and pick up the pace.

Soft grunts escape your throat for every thrust he provides, and you watch as his hands grip at your waist to bring your butt flush with his hips, sheathing his cock fully inside of you. He speeds up a little more, continuing to gaze down at your ass as it bounces against him with every drive.

"I'm.... I’m what… I… ohhh," you moan. You can't get the words out, can barely form thoughts over the way he's fucking you, the way his cock feels against your walls, filling you in a way you hadn't had before.

"Mmmh, Y/N," another huff, and his hand softly smacks against your butt. You gasp, and he groans before continuing. "You're fucking perfect," he goes on.

You can't help but blush at his words, even in your fucked-out state. "Oh Gods... you're made for this dick, hmm?" he says, his grip on your waist tightening as he pushes in faster.

"Lucien..." You moan. The heat in your stomach builds again, so so close you can't hold on much longer. You feel his fingers winding through your hair, gripping softly but forced enough to draw you up, your back hitting his toned chest as his short breaths softly grace your ear.

You cry out at the new angle, pleasure surging through every vein as his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading and pinching the left nipple.

"My fucking perfect girl," he growls.

"Oh.... oh Lucien I'm so close-"

"Mhm that's it, cum for me again," he drives in hard, and you moan loudly as your legs begin to shake, your orgasm barreling through you harder than it did the first time. Lucien only thrusts in twice more before the sweet sound of him chanting your name rings out, and his warm seed is spilling inside of you. He holds you tight, both of his hands wrapped around you as he lowers you to the bed, the finality of your combined waves of pleasure drawing near.

When he pulls out, a string of clear semen trails from his tip to your entrance as he moves from the bed toward the bathroom.

You glance over your shoulder, still panting as you make out his form retreating toward you, towelette in hand. He runs the warmed cloth over you, pulling it from reach when you silently hold your hand out to do it yourself.

Once he's sure he's got it all, he simply tosses it to the ground as he did your tank top, slipping under the covers beside you and pulling the sheets over your body.

Maybe rational thought hasn't returned yet, you think as he pulls you close, his body heat warming you through the chill in the air. You fit perfectly against him, your back to his front as his fingers trace idle circles along the column of your spine. You can't help but feel... relaxed, despite the rather wild activities you'd just engaged in.

You're almost drifted completely off to sleep, the comfort and warmth surrounding you wholly when you feel soft lips brush your cheek. You can't help but smile, Lucien's voice the last thing you hear before sleep engulfs you in full.

"Still claim to hate me, sweetheart?"

* ✧･ﾟ: *

[jaylleoo14]

"Can I kiss you?"

Octavinelle x gn!reader

A/N: Simple. The sea trio has corrupted my mind and so here I am writing this at 1:03 AM and finishing this up two days later LOL. I actually took forever because I kept squealing and getting off track during the writing process. "I NEED TO DRAW THIS" I would say to myself haha. I wrote them without much consideration on how long each might be so one of them may be shorter compare to the others or it may be longer, but please do enjoy^^ (May or may not do the other dorms, unless...)

[Disclaimer] TOO MUCH FLUFF

[characters] Floyd, Azul, Jade

Azul

3:24 PM - The Mostro Lounge sits under blue and silver burnished lighting as the sound of music fills the air. Accompanied by voices and the clinks of dishes, there you sat in the more private area of what adds to Octavinelle - Azuls office.

Something you both have learned to get accustomed to was to just do work alongside each other without the need of having to talk. It was just work. Nothing more. Of course some small talk here and there, asking opinions or maybe asking for help- though it was usually you who asked for it and less of Azul- but regardless it was back off to work. It's quite simple really, Azul is a busy and hard working person so he'd naturally have a lot to manage with. You had to keep up with your studies and try to manage how to handle your money and savings accordingly, along with planning events into your calendar for upcoming school occasions.

You and Azul have been dating for about half a year now, and although not all the time, most of the time you spend your free time here doing your work accompanying Azul as he does his. You both simply enjoy each other's presence, the silence between you two which is filled with the scritches and scratches of his fish-bone felt tip pen and your pencil against the many pages of papers were not at all awkward. It showed a sense of comfortability and familiarity, a tranquil silence in the room. Though of course, like almost any couple you begin to crave some attention from your dearly beloved.

3:27 PM - Placing your pencil down, it now rolling off to the side a little due to the momentum, you lean back onto the back cushions of Azuls couch placed in the middle of his office. Working for about 15 minutes now you decided you needed a break, stretching your arms back as you release your breath through your nostrils.

"Going to take a break Angelfish?" Without even having to look up, the sound of you leaning into his leather cushion and your stretched out groan already tells him enough information that you're ready to just try and relax and rejuvenate yourself.

"Mmmh yea, I think 15 minutes of work is good enough for now. I'll go back to it once I rest up," is all you say in response as you lean your body over to lay on the couch. He only lets out a hum to let you acknowledge that he was listening. Now that you weren't focused on your own work, you can hear him writing with a rich shink-like noise and papers constantly flipped and turned every 30 seconds.

I wonder what he's working on, you think to yourself as you stare up at the dark blue arched ceiling. You prop yourself up with your elbows, pushing yourself up as you move your legs off the couch. Springing off, you head on over to where Azul was working around behind the desk and peered over towards him. "Whatcha working on?" Voice soft and curious, an undertone of boredom.

"Just some useful material intended to aid students," he says in a gentle manner, his eyes still glued onto the papers. "Oh yea? How much longer till you finish up with those study guides?" You lean over a bit closer as you stand next to him, his handwriting as intricate and beautifully cursive as ever; yet still eligible for those who have a harder time understanding.

He lets out a little inquisitive hum as if trying to accurately calculate when he'd be finished by. "About in an hour or so," he says finally after seconds worth of time. "I'd say make that an hour-thirty to two from now" you say with a little soft laugh escaping your lips.

3:30 - Standing next to Azul as he preps material, you slowly come to look at Azul himself instead of what Azul was working on. Being able to see the sight of his silver crowned locks of hair that curls into beautiful waves. Only after making your comment does he stop his hand and turn to look up at you from where he sat.

After finally not being able to properly see Azul's face the entire time you were working, seeing his face was a sort of refreshment to your heart and the soft smile on your face shows that. "And what prompts you to assume such a thing my dear?" He can only be met with a giggly response, his serious and quizzical face only prompting you to let out more chains of giggles.

"Tell me what you are suddenly finding so funny? I certainly am positive that I haven't done anything humorous." You tilt your head a little to the side, your grin getting slowly bigger as you clasped your hands behind your back. Azul can already pick up that you're trying to whip something up.

"You know Azul, when was the last time you kissed me?"

And there he goes, short circuiting as the sudden change of mood drifts him like the ocean currents. "I-Is this what you're on about?" He certainly has picked up by what you meant with your earlier comment now that you've voiced your question. "Oh dear, do you perhaps feel neglected since i've been working so much Angelfish?"

"Don't try to act smug. Answer my question, when was the last time you kissed me?" You immediately shoot down his question as you direct it back to yours and it sends his cheeks a pigmented red while he tries to keep his cool. He understands that you wont stop asking him this question and so he answers away.

"I recall it to be a few weeks back."

"And where did you kiss me?"

"I-I don't see how that- hah, on the cheek. Seriously (y/n) what is the relevancy in asking such- "

"Ah! Hold it! So you're telling me you've been giving me kisses and I've been giving you kisses but we've never actually kissed at the same time?"

3:33 - Here you are facing Azul as you look at his tinted red face, picking up where your suggestion leads. What awaits is permission to boldly take your relationship to the next level.

"Can I kiss you Azul? And not on the hands or on the cheek like we usually do." You give him a soft pleading look, your cheeks also decorated in a lovely shade of red as you wait for his response patiently. Clearing his throat and having the need to suddenly fix his not crooked glasses, he gives you a very shy yet still doing his best to be serious look. Before answering, he quickly resolves himself and a more confident smirk is plastered on his face. As he pushes himself up from his chair he closes in the distance and comes in close towards you, wrapping an arm around your back.

"Ask and you shall receive, a small kiss is worth the price of my time for you my Angelfish," he says it ever so calmly and confidently. Though the redness of his cheeks give away that he was otherwise and it makes your heart squeeze and beat crazy because of how cute he was being right now.

"You're being so cute right now you know that? You don't have to force yourself, you know." Your voice is gentle and smooth as if it were raw honey. Bringing a hand to tuck the longer piece of hair that made up his hairstyle, you give him the most adored stricken smile ever and he can only feel his heart beating out of his chest.

"No no, it's about time we started to get more intimate considering how long we've been together now. Thank you for going at my preferred pace, I'd like to give you an honorarium payment." You let out an amused chuckle and let him prepare himself, closing your eyes as you wait for him to go in at his own pace. Though you least expect it when he suddenly goes in very quickly. His lips are stiffly pressed against yours for a couple of seconds and it has you opening your eyes in surprise. You're met with a red faced Azul -which can be compared to a steamed and cooked octopus- looking flustered and a little awkward as he seemed to have a little dissatisfactory expression on his face. "That... Did not go as well as I had hoped it to be."

A jovial and convivial laughter fills up the room in your sound and it only makes Azul shrivel in embarrassment. You can practically see the steam coming from his head as well. "Well that was a little anticlimactic don't you think?" Wrapping your arms around his neck he can only let out an embarrassed groan at your little comment. "What do you expect from someone who's inexperienced with committing such an act? I'm positive however that with enough practice I can redeem myself and satisfy you." He tries to sound all the more reasoning, which only prompts you to laugh even more.

"You want to kiss more?" Saying through slips of giggles. You feel his hold on your back tighten a bit more, still applying gentle and reaffirming pressure as he presses you both together. "How else do you suggest I be better then?" You turn and motion your body over to the desk, leaning your lower back against it as Azul follows along. "Hmm, I'm absolutely positive that it'll take you two hours to finish those study guides now." You pull a little amused laugh out of him as he slowly goes in once again, tilting his head to the side and his eyes looking to align with yours. "Mmm perhaps. I guess we'll have to see just how long it'll take for me to get better then." And in he goes, the kiss feeling much more natural and a mark of showing a deeper significance in your ongoing relationship.

Jade

The nights on campus here were unusually less disturbed and a lot colder now, which makes sense considering that it is now winter break. The students here at Night Raven College had all gone home to reunite with their families after departing to pursue and complete their highschool education. However a certain group of individuals tend to stay during this time period, and that being the dorm leader of Octavinelle, the vice dorm leader, and the vice dorm leader's twin brother.

Like a lot of teenagers, its normal to come across at least 10 students at night since many are nocturnal people and they share the hobby of walking around. Especially when the sky is dark. You are one of those people. Someone who indulges themselves into the canvas of black paint littered with shining splatter of stars. Regardless of what the weather is like, you willingly go out of your way to enjoy the peacefulness of the night, watching it as it goes through the different seasons. Walking around in the winter's night air you can see your breath whenever you huff out, a shiver going through your shoulders. A little reminder that its the cold season now.

The chilly weather seems to be getting to you so you turn back from where you presently are and walk back to your good ol' home, Ramshackle dorm. As you make your way back from the main road you can make out a tall dark figure up ahead, prompting you to slow down and start to get wary. Upon getting closer and squinting your eyes a little, you can see teal hair shining a bit under the orange light which was radiating off a nearby light pole. Oh, it's Jade! You remember Jade mentioning that he liked to also go out late at night, though this is your first time ever encountering him on your usual walks. Perhaps he too is taking advantage of the quieter nights.

You and Jade have been a little on and off. You cant quite describe it, its complicated really. Sometimes you feel like you cant understand Jade because he's always making things open-ended, leaving them up to your interpretations. You like him, that much is obvious. But there are plenty of times where he's shown interest in you, and other times where it may not feel as so and it throws you off. Its frustrating not knowing how he feels about you, as if its some sort of game you two play. Regardless of his little plays though, you continue to enjoy yourself in the game.

A slight breeze hits your figure and it causes you to shiver, rubbing your arms to enforce friction in hopes of warming you up. You figured it may be best to leave Jade alone so he can enjoy himself in peace doing whatever he was doing. And off you go, turning on your heel and continuing your venture.

The sky is so pretty, you think to yourself. It has you arching your neck up and leaning your head back as you stare at the night sky, continuing your walk. You cant help but look at how pretty the stars are knitted together in a beautiful cluster, zoning out a bit as you continue forward.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your shoulder and it causes you to jolt up like a scared cat, making you break out of your trance. A yell is ushered out of you as you quickly turn around to see who this person could be, and you're only met facing Jade.

"Oh dear, I do apologize for my sudden notice. But your voice sounds lovely even when out of fear fufu"

Your heart is still pounding and your eyes are opened widely, staring at him with disbelief and shock. "J-Jade! What are you doing?! God you freaking scared me oh my gosh." Your little scared moment certainly has him entertained as he lets out another chuckle.

"You seem to be so infatuated with the sky that you failed to notice your surroundings. I was only doing my part in trying to help you realize that."

"What do you me-?" As you turn around your quickly met with a lamp pole right in front of your face and it causes you to flinch back a bit. "Oh." Turning around to face him again you feel yourself feeling a bit embarrassed that he caught you about to do something embarrassing. "Thanks Jade... What are you doing out so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just taking advantage of the quiet night and looking at the nature of the trees." He looks over you, a genuine smile on his face plastered as what you can assume to be looking at the area around us. "However I stayed aware of my surroundings despite having my own infatuations." His little snarky yet calm remark causes you to let out a groan, a pout slightly forming on your lips.

"I was also taking advantage of tonight as well thank you very much." Straightening your back, you cross your arms and give him a slight frown as if trying to regain back your little pride. Then quite suddenly a gust of wind howls a bit in your direction, causing you to shiver and quiver a bit. "Tonight is quite cold I must say." His slight remark makes you shiver even more as you are reminded of the cold.

"Yea, no kidding. I didn't prepare well enough so I'm going to head back." Your face is cold to the touch and your nose and cheeks can be seen slightly red under the pale moonlight. "Oh I see, perhaps I can accompany you then." He offers yet you turn him down in a polite manner. Your reasons? It's obvious you like Jade. You really like him, though because of all these mixed signals you can't help but feel like you need to stop. It already frustrates you enough and so you need to let these feelings die down even though sometimes you really do get a kick from the things he does.

"You seem to be quite cold indeed (y/n), if I can't accompany you back then please allow me to warm you up for your trip."

His words seem to catch you off guard and you look up at him quizzically. He doesn't seem to be wearing any sort of jacket, how can he offer you warmth? He chuckles a bit, amused to see your confused scrunched face. Gently bringing a hand to your cheeks your eyes can't seem to help but widen in shock a little from the sudden gentle advancement, your brain going blank.

"Can I kiss you, Prefect?" He says it ever so softly, his voice wrapping you up like a soft blanket. Did Jade really just ask to kiss you? What's going on, is this even real right now? Are you dreaming? Is this another one of his games? You feel your face starting to heat up and your heart is starting to race.

"W-Wait, what? Did I hear that right?" You say in disbelief, but he knows you heard it correctly because of your red face. His hands cupping your face causes you to freeze in the moment and all you can hear is the loud drums of your heart. Leaning down a bit more you can see his eyes perfectly now, his heterochromia jewel like eyes shimmering. "I must admit i'm a little hurt to see you trying to avoid me recently Prefect. I apologize for beating around the bush for so long, I hope you can take this kiss as a form of acceptance for my feelings and my apology."

This eel.... THIS EEL! He knows what he's doing, he knows! You're left stammering a bit before you could answer, the feeling of your head spinning. "I...accept your apology." And with that he goes down in one smooth motion, his lips in contact with yours with a perfect fit. Once he leans back, your eyes are met and he lets out a content hum. "I'm glad to see you're quite warmed up now. And if I must add, happier too." A big goofy smile is placed on your face as if you just won the lottery, your face all red and heated. "You know, I actually wouldn't mind if you were to accompany me back now. Who knows what might be out here."

You seem to be in a giddy mood, no longer holding back. Finally, you can understand Jade's true feelings for you now. It makes you overjoyed, a feeling of happiness now that you understand. And with a smile on his face he agrees, playing along with your little game of words. The feeling of warmth and fluffy happiness fills you up, and the cold cant compare with that as you make your way back with Jade, his little darling Pearl.

Floyd

"WHAT THE HELL FLOYD?!"

Crash!

Ah yes, just another regular day. You, Floyd, your phone in his hand, breathless, a cheeky and amused grin on his face, and just constantly trying to snag your phone back in the spacious long hallway. Call this a regular day occurrence considering how many times he's come to bother and mess with you now.

"Floyd, give me back my pho- STOP SCROLLING THROUGH MY CAMERA ROLL!" Running up and trying to snatch it away by jumping, only to fail because he's now outstretching his arms away and tip-toeing to refrain from you reclaiming back your item.

"Haaah? Your camera roll is so boring, just full of pictures of the sky. We see that everyday, you should take more pictures of other interesting things!" You really were running out of breath here and he seems to take great amusement with it since he's still here messing with you.

The sun shined brightly against the two of you, the open wall of the hall letting the air roam freely.

"Ahaha! What a funny picture of Crabby-chan! Oh, and you got one of little Mackerel too." Floyds not listening to your words, enjoying himself as he indulges in your camera roll. You let out a tired and heavy sigh, heaving a bit as you try to catch your breath. "F-Floyd, why are you doing this? Argh, I swear you've been bothering me so much lately." He only give you a little "hm?" in response as his smile now fades, turning to something more neutral and casual as he continues to indulge himself in your selective memories.

"Ya have soooo many pictures of other people lil' shrimpy. Ah! You even have a picture of Jade and Azul! No fairrrr!" Letting out a whine, you can see his prominent pout as he pinches his fingers on your screen to zoom in on you which was in between Azul and Jade. His eyes stick to the screen as he stares at the picture of your sweet smile looking as if you just finished some heavy and tiring labor just before.

"That was when we went camping during Vargas's stupid camping trip. Of course you weren't there!" You huffed out as you wipe a sweat off your neck, placing your free arm on your hip while you just watch him on your phone. At this point you just gave up and let him do what he wanted on there, of course as long as he's in the camera roll and nowhere else.

"But i'm here now aren't I? And you were even there when I went camping, jus excuses." His slightly upset voice makes you feel a bit guilty yourself, but you try to find a way to dispute his words anyways.

"Not true! If you keep scrolling more you'll see yourself in one of the pictures I took with Ace!" A huff escapes your mouth as you try to stay strong on your claim and he only lets out a disappointed groan. "I'm in the background Shrimpy, and you cant even see my face properly. Ya dont wanna have people mixin' me with my brother now dontcha?" His eyes look over towards you now as he drapes his arm down, just very offended with the lack of pictures you have available of him.

"It's not like i'm gonna show anyone Floyd. No one's gonna know its you except for me." You try to reassure him but he still isn't satisfied at all with your response. The sun shines in as its rays changes its direction and hits Floyd in the eyes, causing his already sour mood to worsen and he lets out an annoyed huff. The shadow of the pillars drapes over you like a veil and the sun hits him like a beam, so he then places his hand over his forehead to block the sun out while walking closer to you in venture for refuge. The light reflects into the phone causing a gleam hitting your own eyes and so you step back, squinting your eyes away. For a moment you actually forgot he had your phone if not for the reminder the gleam gave you.

"Floyd, could you please hand me back my phone now?" You say in a more gentle voice in consideration to his sour mood. His droopy eyes meet yours as a slight pout forms on his face which then looks over at your phone in his hand. Suddenly, his pouty face lifts up into a gleeful smile, his toothy lop-sided smirk giving you unease as if he's planning something not so great.

"Ya know, why not jus' take some pics right now? Say cheese~!" Suddenly, with his longer legs he quickly makes his way over next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling close.

"Wha-? Hey-!" Before you could even ready yourself though, he brings the phone above you two, angling the camera as he tilts his head against yours and maneuvers his thumb over the camera shutter button, pulling your bodies together.

Click! Click! Click!

"Hey stop taking so much! You're going to take up my storage!" Quickly swiping up your phone you press on the little square in the corner to open up the pictures. His arm continues to drape on your shoulder as he looks over at the pictures with a happy hum. Floyd looked as photogenic as ever when he wants to be, his silky skin reflecting in the pictures as his smile radiates and shine while his cheeks being a dusty pink. You on the other hand....Not so much. You were even blinking in one of them, most of the pictures of you looking off and funny.

"I wasn't ready Floyd." A stern look is scrunched on your face as you swipe and look at the pictures with a judgmental stare. A giggle can be heard right next to you as Floyd also looks over you in the pictures, a tinted pink running on his cheeks and a soft look in his eyes; his heart speeding up just slightly as he continues the close and intimate proximity.

"I think you look cute anyways." He says it ever so casually and in a gentle voice, causing you to look over at him. Upon turning your head to face him, its only then did you realize just how close he was. How intimate you two were being right now. His side profile looking perfect as ever, his olive colored eye locked on the screen staring only at you, his arm draped over your shoulders, your bodies practically meshing together right now as his pecks touch your back. You feel your cheeks starting to heat up, your heart begins to speed up as if you are starting a morning run the more you begin to get conscious. His eyes suddenly dart to look at you and you flinch back, jumping a little due to being startled; however his arm keeps you in place from moving any further.

"Seriously, you've been messing with me too much..." You grumbled out as you turn your face back to look at the now black screen. It shut off due to the lack of inactivity, and in the reflection you can see your furrowed brows and tightlipped frown. Though from the side Floyd can only give a bigger grin upon seeing your velvet cheeks.

"Cus' I like ya, aint it obvious?" The speed to which you flip your head can be compared to one of a bullet train and your jaw drops, mouth wide open and agape as you're left with no words. "HUH?!" Your whole face is now a full on red, your eyes filled with shock as if he just dropped the most jaw dropping information ever. Well, technically he did.

Tilting his head to the side a little, his face also grows a darker shade of red, though he lets out a giddy chain of giggles to your reaction. "Eh? You're quite bold Shrimpy, movin' kinda fast there huh?"

"W-What?" He can practically see question marks floating around your red beet face, his toothy smug face still apparent as he wraps another arm in front of you. He's basically giving you a side hug right now -a sweet and tender one.

"Hehe, nothin,'" smiling as if its something only he knows makes you a bit bothered and curious, but then he suddenly swings himself in front of you now. The sun hits the back of Floyd, making him radiate ever so brightly. "How bout' we start off a bit slower hmm? Whats it to ya Shrimpy, do ya like me back?" His soft and droopy slanted eyes adoringly stare into yours and you cant help but feel your heart turn into a big wet sopping pillow. Adverting your eyes down, you can only give a little nod. "Well i mean, I don't hate you. So yea, I.... I do in fact, Like you too."

Honestly, Floyds been nothing but smiles now and its as if he found the most pretty set of flowers ever on a grassy field. "Is that so? Ya really like me huh?"

My hearts beating so fast right now.

"Yea, I really like you."

"Shall I give you a kiss then Shrimpy?"

Tilting your head back up at him you can only give him a shy and flustered face. But with the silly state you're in right now, you let out a slip of a tongue response.

"C-Can I kiss you?" Totally unexpected to Floyd, his eyes widen for only a moment till he's flinging his head back with laughter and squeezing you into his chest.

"Hahaha! Will you kiss me?" Calming himself down a bit he looks back at you with you in his arms now, the suns rays slowly shifting over.

"Will I kiss you?" saying almost in a smug manner now, feeling yourself succumbing into his giggly state of self as you yourself now start to get giddy with your red cheeks.

"You will" He says it with a reciprocal teasing tone as he leans forward, the comfort in his lean arms making you feel as if you've been lovers forever.

"I will?"

"I will" And with that he softly goes in to press a kiss on your lips, the sun shining and hitting the both of you and its as if you two were getting the spotlight of a movie.

Click!

Huh? As you turn to slowly pull back from the kiss, slowly opening your closed eyes you see Floyds phone out. His arm is outstretched and propped in the middle of you two from the side to capture the kiss perfectly and you can only let out a gasp.

"A picture for me hehe~"

"FLOYD-"

[hisui-dreamer]

forgetful eel

Pairing: Floyd Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: floyd is not only forgetful, but also unpredictable

Tags: fluff, school life, floyd leech is a silly eel

Word count: 753

Notes: more floyd fluff!! this idea popped into my head and i had to write it out haha

Masterlist

A gentle embrace lingered in the air, whispering promises of blossoming wonders and sunlit afternoons.  Cherry blossoms unfurled delicate petals like confetti, painting the trees in hues ranging from blushing pinks to ethereal whites. Blades of emerald-green grass bathed in the tender caress of ethereal sunlight, shimmering with a luminescence kissed by dew.

The unmistakable arrival of spring break infused the school's halls with an atmosphere of tangible excitement and animated chatter. In every corner, students were animatedly discussing their carefully crafted plans to make the most of the precious holiday ahead.

It wouldn't be the first time you would stay in Ramshackle during a study break. The memories of the tumultuous winter break with Scarabia's vice-housewarden still linger vividly in your mind. Regrettably, this time around, even Scarabia and Octavinelle would remain vacant.

Meaning, it would be at least two weeks before you could see Floyd again.

Well, at least he seemed to be upset about that too.

"Shrimpy~ I'm gonna miss ya so much~"

A rueful smile plays on your lips, accustomed to hearing that familiar line every time he leaves Ramshackle to return to his dorm. But this time, a subtle pang of loneliness pierces through, realizing that you won't have the chance to see him again the very next day.

You return his hug by wrapping your arms around him, your hand reaching up to cradle his head, smoothing it down in a comforting gesture that's almost become a routine.

"I'm going to miss you too, Floyd", you pull back slightly so you can meet his eyes. "But you'll call me whenever you can, yeah?"

His pout intensifies, but then he tightens his grip on you, embracing you warmly. "Of course, I will! I'll show ya all the cool stuff back home!"

You surrender to the comfort of his embrace, basking in the musky scent of rain that clings to him and the inviting warmth he provides. The tranquillity is abruptly disrupted by approaching footsteps. A smooth voice interjects, breaking the tender moment.

"Floyd, pardon the interruption, but it's time for us to depart," Jade announces, a wry smile on his face.

Floyd tightens his hold on you, grumbling, "Ugh... Jade, you're such a buzzkill," yet he eventually releases you from his embrace, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Guess it's time to go. But hey," he adds, pressing his forehead to yours, "ya better think of me lots, okay? Cuz I'll be thinking of ya always." He giggles.

"I'll be thinking of you every minute!" you respond, joining in his laughter.

"I'll be thinking of ya every second!" Floyd laughs, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he grabs his bags. "See ya soon, Shrimpy!" he declares, a warmth in his eyes reflecting the affection shared between you, and follows Jade into the mirror.

You linger before the mirror, unmoving even after his figure has disappeared into the mirror. Floyd is many things, and one of those things is forgetful.

In a matter of seconds, your beloved walks out of the mirror, his demeanour marked by a sense of urgency.

"I forgot something!"

"What did you forget? The souvenirs for your parents? Or maybe your textbook?" you ask, your thoughts racing through various scenarios, a bemused smile dancing upon your lips.

Floyd's eyes widen in realization. "Oh, right! I did forget that."

You arch an eyebrow, curious about his wording. "Huh? Did you forget something else?"

Floyd hums for a moment, his face lighting up with mischief. "Ah-ha! I forgot my goodbye kiss!" he declares with a mischievous grin.

You blink, a mix of confusion and amusement evident on your face. Before you can react, Floyd closes the distance between you, leaning in with a sly expression. "Yeahh, can't forget that," he whispered, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss.

The fleeting moment of surprise melts as a pair of smiles bloom simultaneously as you kiss each other. As he gently withdraws, a genuine smile graces his features, and his gaze locks onto yours, radiating a warmth that envelops your entire being.

"Alright, I'm really off now," Floyd declares, playfully tousling your hair, his voice carrying a lightness as he steps back, giving you one last lingering look.

You chuckle at his antics. "Make sure you remember everything this time, you silly eel."

Floyd laughs, leaving you with a final peck on the cheek. "I'll do my best. Love ya, Shrimpy!" With that, he disappears into the mirror once more, leaving you in the mirror chamber, shaking your head in loving exasperation.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[stylespresleyhearted]

POV: AUSTIN BUTLER IS IN LOVE

(AND DOESN’T CARE WHO KNOWS IT)

masterlist here x

liked by fan21, user13, and 937 others

enews Love is in the air! Austin Butler and his girlfriend shared the sweetest reunion outside the airport 😭 more photos at the link in bio

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fan34 omg i am so freaking jealous

user12 GOD HAS FAVORITES AND IT AINT ME

butlerfan It feels so good to see him be publicly in love and not hide it anymore

liked by florencepugh, tomhardy, and 15933 others

austinbutler Happy day 🎂❤️

view all comments

fan13 LMAO THE OFFICE MEME RETURNS

tchalamet happy birthday gee! @yourinstagram

zendaya 27 has never looked better queen 💕

ashleytisdale I’m telling Jupiter LOL! Happiest birthday to you @yourinstagram you are a blessing in our lives 🥰🥰

ashleybee HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💘💘💘

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 97188 others

yourinstagram 💋 smooches for @austinbutler

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glenpowell Austin Butler is one lucky lucky man

fan13 not glen in the comment section please

user13 this gets cuter when you realize she was actually kissing him through the glass 😭❤️

oliviadejonge absolute stunner 🥀

austinbutler Get over here right now

liked by fan12, user13 and 988 others

enews Austin Butler and girlfriend spotted sharing a few cuddles and kisses while on a date! We all know how much they love their smooches 😚

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user21 one hand on her back, other in her pocket this man knows he’s fine

fan13 IM SO FUCKIN LONELY 😩

liked by ashleytisdale and 13794 others

austinbutler sweatin’ because my date is so hot

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ashleybee HAHA the caption 😂😂

yourinstagram lol u cheesy man 🫶🏻 ily

anthonyboyle He was probably so proud with it too 😂

keoghan ace mateeee 😌

ayoedibiri this is my favorite post you have ever posted

liked by keoghan92, zendaya, and 93166 others

austinbutler Took over lighting production during a visit on set and she killed it !!

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florencepugh I’m so mad you didn’t bring her on the Dune set

yourinstagram WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WAS THERE EVERY WEEKEND

florencepugh not enough. i needed you there every day.

yourinstagram Michael Mann said the job is mine 🤩

user13 y/n getting a job on the heat 2 set iktr!!!

liked by tchalamet, bazluhrmann, and 101766 others

austinbutler I want to do with you what spring does to cherry tress - Pablo Neruda

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fan23 … is everyone else also transfixed on her awesome boobs or am i a perv ?

oliviadejonge gorgeous girl

tomholland2013 aren’t we lucky boys mate?

ashleytisdale 😍😍😍

ayoedibiri she’s got you quoting pablo neruda and i completely understand why

yourinstagram if your boyfriend isn’t also your photographer break up with him

liked by catherinemartinedesigns and 89716 others

austinbutler 🕶️

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zendaya the coolest to ever do it

keoghan92 sickkkk

rileykeough Austin we’re gonna need you to release a book of all the photos you have of this gorgeous girl 🌚

ashleybee Her job is Cool Barbie

liked by ashleybee, anthonyboyle, and 67178 others

yourinstagram was my turn to snap a photo of this handsome guy who makes me the happiest i have ever been ♥️♾️ ‘love could be labeled poison and we’d drink it anyway’

view all comments

austinbutler oh no

yourinstagram taste of your own medicine mister lol

keoghan92 my teeth can’t handle the sweetness

florencepugh not one bad photo of either of you exists

ashleybee Having a big sister moment because he’s winked the same since he was like 5

yourinstagram can we look at baby pictures again 🥹

—

No disrespect intended to Austin’s current relationship, I respect their privacy but also I really wish Austin would post his gf, talk about her, all that good stuff I GET WHY HE DOESN’T 😭

also using Sydney Sweeney as a FC because I’m currently obsessed with her she’s awesome?? Brilliant ??? She is everything. Also I may have an idea for part 2 but it would be nsfw concerning leaked nudes and such but would anyone be interested in that? Lemme know! As always feel free to come chat 💬

[aethers-bananaa]

prompt: "you make me feel alive. for the first time ever, i can breathe"

pairing: xmen'97 scott summers x afab!reader

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff, slight angst, and fluff

summary: you and scott have started dating recently and everything feels right, like you were meant for each other. scott prepares a surprise date for you and opens up about his feelings - it's the sweetest thing ever

notes: where's jean? nonexistent here... sorry for all her fans ˙◠˙. wc is 802 words and the story's set after the events of xmen 97!

✰ ✰ ✰

The halls of the X-Mansion flooded with children and teenagers, laughter and chatter floating through the air. The weather of spring did not disappoint, the windows of the hall magnifying the rays of the morning sun, the blossoms outside blooming in magnificent pinks and purples.

A hand rested on your shoulder from behind and you whipped around in surprise. With everything that had been going on under Magneto's unfortunate reign, you expected to see something terrible standing there. To your luck, it was someone much more welcome and familiar.

"Scott!" You exclaimed with relief.

"Hey, love," he replied, his baritone voice matching the warmth of the sun.

He pulls you aside, away from the bustling students and into a smaller, empty office. The oaken furniture glowed a golden maple colour under the morning light, a stained glass window casting warm glows of reds and yellows. In front of the head desk, the chairs had been pushed aside, a red and white checkered picnic blanket in their place. A wicker basket sat in the center, overflowing with all sorts of good food and drinks.

"We never get the time to do anything. I thought I'd do something for the both of us together, you know, seeing as we have a break from all the missions," he gestures over to the little setup. "I mean, it's not much but I-"

You almost throw yourself into his arms. Falling into an embrace, you bury your face into his broad chest.

"Oh, Scott. This is sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," you smile. "Sit with me!"

You both take a seat opposite each other, cross-legged like school children. Cracking open a can of soda from the basket, you're unable to suppress your happiness.

"When'd you plan this, may I ask?" You giggle.

"A week ago, I'd say. Running this whole place is my job, and what I should be doing. Buuut... I suppose it was a bit much. I needed to spend time with you, to be with you alone," he half smiles. "Needed to escape for a bit to be honest."

"I'm so very honoured, my captain. I'm glad you're able to do this for us, to take a break. I couldn't be more grateful for you."

Scott rested a large hand on your thigh. "And I you." He moves his hand up and brushes his thumb against your cheek. "God, you're beautiful, you know?"

Your heart grew hot and you blushed, so much so that you thought he'd think you were on fire. "So are you," you laughed.

Your comment elicited an affable chuckle from him.

"Y/N, do you know who I'd be without you?"

"Let me guess, Scott Summers but attractively single?"

"Haha very funny. But seriously, I'd just be Cyclops who worked all day, all night, someone who could never fill Xavier's shoes and was never satisfied. Y/N, you made me realise that there's more than that."

You felt his gaze fall on your face, studying your expression. You looked on helplessly, unable to tear your own line of vision from his own perfectly sculpted face. His amber locks and broad shoulders seemingly screamed for attention.

"Don't say that. You know you are more than that already."

Scott leaned in, closer to you. "No but I mean, I'm nothing without you really. I'm just a mutant without a soul. But you...You make me feel alive, and for the first time ever, I can breathe. With you, I'm an actual person." His voice dropped, almost in a whisper, as if telling you a secret.

His words struck your heart.

"Oh Scott... You're never nothing and never have been nothing. You'll always be a person with a caring soul and a massive heart, with or without me. Please remember that. But, I'll always, always, always be here to tell you. Know that I love you and always will," you reply, reflecting his tone of voice in your own.

Almost nose to nose now, you lean in and kiss him. His long fingers run down your cheeks and reach into your hair, gently tugging at your locks as he kisses you back tentatively. His lips are sweet and familiar, tasting of sunshine. You inhale his woody scent and bask in the warmth of his presence. Your own hands travel to rest on the vast expanse of his muscular chest, feeling his heart beat rhythmically.

After several minutes of burning yet natural passion, you both pull apart, breathing heavily. His crimson lensed glasses sat slightly crooked upon his tall nose bridge. You move your hands to adjust them for him. "Careful there," you chuckled lightly. He smiled.

"Gosh, how lucky am I to have you?" He said, his fingers dancing along your jaw.

"Could say the exact same thing back," you replied.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

That day, you take your lunch. It’s been a long one. Again. 

It seems that it only gets worse lately. Mr. Hansen is either yelling about some client or his ex-wife or the way the cream cheese on his bagel is spread. For all of them, you have to stand and take the brunt of his frustration. 

The sunlight is warm despite a thin sheet of clouds. It’s going to rain, probably just as you get out of work. Typical. 

You nibble on your granola bar and stare at the flowers. It’s nice not to be behind a screen. You crinkle the wrapper and take another small bite. You don’t usually get much of a break so you don’t really pack a full lunch. Your stomach grumbles in regret of that fact. 

You put your elbows on the picnic table and hunch forward. A breeze rustles through petals and leaves and stirs the scent of pollen. You hear the door to the courtyard but don’t look up. No one talks to you. The one time you tried to sit with Caroline and she fled as quickly as you said hi. 

“Hey,” a shadow stops beside the table, “you mind if I sit?” 

You look up at Jensen and shrug, “oh, sure.” 

You put your head back down, suddenly self-conscious, and you break off a morsel of granola with your fingers before chewing on it. He sits and you feel him watching you. You peek at him as you swallow. 

“How’s it going?” He asks. 

You wrap up what’s left of the bar and put it in your sweater pocket. “It’s okay. Nothing special. How about you?” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s good,” he unwraps his sandwich as he speaks, his hands seemingly too busy for his own good. The smell of the turkey and swiss draws a growl from your stomach. “Been running around trying to get that new inventory software to work. No one around here knows how to read I swear. And someone up in marketing downloaded a bug so lots of damage control, haha.” His eyes round and he presses a hand to the side of his neck. “I’m yapping again.” 

“It’s fine,” you say. “I don’t mind.” 

“You don’t?” He asks. 

“No.” At least he’s nice. Not like Mr. Hansen. 

“Right, uh... Did I interrupt? Or you just finishing up?” He looks at your pocket pointedly. 

“Oh, no, I... the granola’s too sugary. I’ll just have a tea when I get back to my desk,” you explain and look away, following a ladybug with your eyes. 

“You don’t got anything else?” He asks. 

“Not hungry,” you lie. 

“Hm, alright,” he doesn’t sound convinced but doesn’t insist. “Oh, I meant to ask, I saw your wallpaper, not that I’m like snooping or anything, just happened to notice. Ummmm, well, that sounds off, doesn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, “what I mean it, I saw that you like er, The Sims?” 

You nod and look at the table. Mr. Hansen never said anything about the desktop background. You supposed he didn’t know what the green diamonds meant. He had enough to say about your dancing kitten. 

“I play sometimes,” you say. 

“Yeah, me too. Just 4 or any old ones?” 

“Erm, I like the medieval one.” 

“Really? I thought everyone hated that one,” he says. “I got tired of losing at Elden Ring so I’ve been trying to zen out in Oasis Springs. My wife died though. And the second one. I’ve stopped marrying actually, I might be cursed.” 

It sounds absurd to talk about the game out loud. You never had anyone to discuss it with so you never realised. You glance up again then check your watch. 

“Sorry,” you frown, “I gotta get back.” 

“Oh,” his disappointment lines his forehead, “yeah, sure, sorry if I ate up your time.” 

“No, you didn’t,” you stand and sidle out from behind the bench, coming close to him as you step out. The round table is a bit awkward. “See ya.” 

“See ya.” 

You leave him and the sunlight and go back into the fluorescent-saturated hallways. You don’t rush back even though you should. You just don’t want to be there anymore. Most nights, you can’t fall asleep because you dread waking up. And in the morning, you can hardly drag yourself out of bed. 

You get to your desk and wiggle the mouse to wake up your monitor. You open the browser and stare at the little ad in the side panel of the home page. You hover your finger over the button then click down on it. 

The new tab opens and put your chin in your hand as you scroll down. The word Sale is pasted all over and the categories are lined up neatly. You click through and peruse the dresses under the ‘Office’ heading. 

You don’t have any dresses and you don’t wear any of your skirts. They’re all thrifted or straight out of the bargain bin. You never put much thought into clothing, you just went for adequate, much like the rest of your life.  

Still, the echo of Hansen’s words plays over and over. ‘...dress like a granny...’ It’s not the first time he’s commented on your attire and it never really bothered you very much. He insults everyone. It’s just that you’re so tired of being unnoticed, or noticed for all the wrong reasons. 

You look at a pretty cherry red wrap dress and check the measurements chart. Your phone vibes and you pick it up. It’s just another marketing email. Annoying. You darken the screen and see yourself in it. Ugh. 

You add the dress to your cart. It’s just for you. Maybe it won’t look as good on you as the model but you're tired of the woolly old cardigans and stiff corduroys. Heck, no one will even know the difference. They don’t invite you to the special lunches or to even enjoy a free donut. A new dress won’t change a thing. 

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

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"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information. 

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant. 

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday. 

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments. 

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her. 

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you. 

"You study too much."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday." 

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day. 

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now. 

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time. 

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not. 

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath. 

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead. 

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities. 

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

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"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached. 

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle. 

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet. 

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target. 

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent. 

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged. 

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing. 

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both. 

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive." 

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued. 

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.  

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up. 

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along. 

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side. 

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief. 

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here. 

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you. 

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle. 

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here. 

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one. 

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you. 

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory. 

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own. 

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion. 

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring. 

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row. 

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth. 

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask. 

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you. 

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals. 

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile. 

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery." 

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic. 

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot. 

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind. 

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away. 

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying. 

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying. 

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look. 

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines. 

A lifetime together. 

A lifetime with you. 

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling. 

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag. 

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it. 

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned. 

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer. 

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why. 

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds. 

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words. 

You don't take the hint. 

"I don't feel that way about you anymore." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was fine—it was. 

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio. 

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to. 

This is fine. 

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best. 

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her. 

It is meant to be this way. 

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now. 

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour. 

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance. 

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago. 

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following. 

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her. 

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next. 

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you. 

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore. 

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday. 

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life. 

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure. 

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello. 

How entirely damning. 

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer. 

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood. 

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission. 

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief. 

None of this is. 

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession. 

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back. 

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person? 

Along with the anger settles in hollowness. 

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them. 

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around. 

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern. 

Wednesday doesn't answer. 

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago. 

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday. 

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry. 

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. 

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging. 

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too. 

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids. 

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder. 

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken. 

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

[ateez-himari]

[240830] SLEEPY LIVE

● 민기 is live on TokToq now (1:27 AM)

● 76,019 active viewers

'She's (Himari) right next to me in bed right now, we went to visit my mom together because she wanted to see the two of us. They get along really well so I'm relieved, they met before but it was when Hima wasn't doing so well'

'They actually went to the hot springs together when I was out with one of my close friends, my mom really enjoys being around her, she told me that. She asked when our wedding was so I told her that it would hopefully be soon haha'

'No, I don't ever get tired of being with her...we actually see each other a lot less than you think. Members in the same dorms already don't run into each other that often because of different lifestyles so imagine how it is with us living apart, and with her schedule often being packed'

'We've been seeing each other every day lately because of the tour but it's different since everyone else is there too. Sometimes it feels nice to have just us two...more domestic you know ? Being idols is obviously something we love, but getting to live as normal adults feels great too'

'Honestly...no I didn't picture myself with her at first, to me it was just some silly crush because she was a girl I was regularly around. Then we fought before my hiatus...a really bad fight, and I think that was when I realized that maybe it was more'

'I won't elaborate too much on it but a lot of 'Tunnel' is kind of based on what happened back then'

'It might seem silly to some people but just seeing her smile makes the world stop for me, and the first time she was genuinely happy after being stuck in a dark place I never wanted it to start again. Atiny probably know this already but she's fragile...so you have to be careful with her okay ? Love her like we do'

'Haha you can hear her breath ? It's because she's very close to my phone since it's on my chest...I'm too tired to lift it in my hands, I'm scared it'll fall on my face'

'The position is a little uncomfortable but I'm worried she'll wake up if I move. It's the first time she's slept well in some time, because of the situation with her brother...she worries about people a lot'

'About an hour ago she was fussing over my throat because it's very sore right now, instead of doing her rehabilitation exercises'

'Rehabilitation yeah, she went through rib surgery after Coachella...so now there's titanium plates on the broken bones. The doctors said she would be okay without a hiatus so no one knew about it, well only the ones that heard it on her live'

'Atiny are really observant, you're right it's why I always hold her waist instead of her ribcage area like I used to. The size difference is very cute but I have to be careful because of it sometimes'

'We're actually leaving tomorrow afternoon, we booked an airbnb for the rest of our break, it's in a really nice location too, it's romantic'

'Yeah the dorms are empty for the most part but we wanted to be alone in a house, just live like a normal couple for a bit. Our manager helped set it up actually since we were working non stop'

'Ahh you guys want to see her ? I wish, she looks adorable like this...but I'm not wearing a shirt and I think the flash is gonna wake her up'

'Speaking of I think it's time for me to sleep too, I just wanted to say hello quickly. Sleep well Tiny, I'll come back soon'

Translation by 9024subs