#i cannot believe i watched that with my own two eyes

[exhuastedpigeon]

Oh so Buck had to give Eddie the baked goods as a buffer because if he got a real, two armed hug from Eddie he'd never be able to let go.

[athenasdragon]

Chapter 4 of my Rookanis fic where Rook keeps watch so Lucanis can get some rest. <3 <3 Whump chapter part TWO.... a bit of turnabout in this one! Perhaps this time it's Rook who needs some sleep!

Excerpt:

“I cannot believe they found you.”

Rook bolted upright like a puppet with its strings tugged. No surprise that the Crow could enter a room silently, but it was still uncanny just how quietly he moved. He seemed a shape cut from the shadows themselves, only the glint of his eyes alluding to a mortal presence.

“I’m a little surprised too, honestly.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, but they were the truth. If their positions were reversed, she would have been the one off not-sulking while Emmrich worked. How could anyone possibly locate a captive in all the little swirls and eddies of the Fade, much less in a prison meant to keep a god? For all she knew, this was yet another trick.

He stepped into the edge of the aquarium’s light. “I thought I’d never see you again.” The glint in his eyes revealed itself to be barely-contained tears. His voice was low, scraping right against silence, as though he might lose control of anything louder.

“I can’t believe…” Rook shook her head, bit her lip—her own tears returned, following the well-marked track their many predecessors had left down her face. “So much happened,” she choked. “I don’t know how to feel.” She could feel the raw desperation in her own expression but was powerless to temper it. She was feeling something, or many somethings, so intensely the sensation was crowding her organs, but what?

He came to crouch before her, hands on her knees. They felt warm and alive. His eyes were soft. “I do,” he told her earnestly. Her head spun as he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. Just a brush—a moment of electricity—and then he retreated. “I know exactly how to feel.”

She sniffled. “Just don’t leave.” Now that he was here, the thought of falling asleep alone was terrifying.

“Never.” It sounded like a vow. He cupped her face, wiping away her tears with a thumb before he leaned in for another kiss. It was sweet, heartfelt, unpracticed—she grabbed his chin, perhaps too hard, to tilt his head and he moaned into her mouth.

It was impossible to say whether he nudged her or she reclined and drew him with her, but either way she found herself on her back with Lucanis settled atop her. His warm weight was comforting as he groaned again and resumed their kiss, deepening it with a determination that made her stomach swoop.

[hauntingblue]

Weird that helaena didn't foresee this btw she has predicted nearly every tragedy that happens to the greens

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper — jake

jake x reader

getting your cherry popped by the sweet, popular athletic boy. who is also your best friend

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

[sorry not proof read]

“jake i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?”

your eyes never looked away from jake sim. athletic, popular and smart. triple kill.

and he was your best friend.

-

studying. that’s all it was supposed to be. jake sim, your best friend, helping you with your college physics course. then it somehow turned into a human anatomy lesson. all because jake couldn’t leave his phone alone for 5 seconds and was sexting a girl during the study sessions.

“jake—yah! would you pay attention? i cannot fail this exam!” you scolded, slamming your pencil down on your notebook.

jake cleared his throat, awkwardly and embarrassingly putting down his cell phone, screen to the table. “sorry.” he apologized with a mumble.

“what’s so interesting about whoever you’re texting that you’d rather do that than help your bestie pass her physics exam?” you pouted, looking at jake with a frown and puppy dog eyes.

“oh well you see—,” jake began, but then his phone buzzed once before. he went to pick up the phone, but you snatched it before he could.

“wait, you—,” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence of, “wait, you might not want to.”

you screeched, face screwing in disgust as you threw his phone to the couch. then, you whipped your head to jake in disbelief, huffing.

“i can’t believe you! you seriously are sexting another girl while helping me?”

“hey, i’m sorry okay? but she sent me—,”

you held up your hand to stop him. “don’t want to hear it jake.” you sighed. “can you stop being a horn dog for like, two hours? i know you have a high sex drive, but i was hoping soccer practice would’ve tired you out.”

you weren’t mad at his sex drive. heck, if he needed to fuck like his grades depended on it, then so be it. you weren’t the one to stop him. but it did annoy you he couldn’t just turn it off long enough to help you study.

“if you can’t focus, i’ll ask someone else to help.”

“like who? jay?” jake laughed, joking.

“heeseung.” you smirked, knowing heeseung was just as smart as jake. and although jake and heeseung were friends, those two also had a competitive streak against one another. especially when it came to academics and girls.

you also knew jake was protective over you. all the boys did, but his was extra. you knew he probably warned the guys that you were off limits.

jake scoffed. “absolutely not, he’ll help you pass with an a minus at max.”

“and you?” you asked crossing your arms.

jake smiled. “i can get you that a plus.”

“jake, you can’t make miracles happen. i just need a minimum b average.”

“you know i like to go above and beyond, baby.” he winked, causing you to laugh.

“let’s just get back to work, okay?”

“okay. only because my phone disappeared in the couch.” he pouted. “she’s not gonna be happy i left her dry.”

you waved it off. “pretty sure she has a box full of toys to help her out.”

“do you?” jake asked.

your head slowly turned to jake as you was writing down a problem. “do i what?” you looked at him confused.

“have a box full of toys?”

your eyes went wide. “oh, uh, let’s focus on the studying!” you rushed out and turned back to your text book, aggressively poking at jake’s book.

after that, during the study session, jake would steal glances at you, wondering if his best friend did have a box full of toys. or even at least one toy.

jake has known you since you were six. growing up next door to one another in australia, it was fun.

beach days, arcade days, walking to school and back home together. watching him freak out over bugs that you had to be the one to get rid of.

you told jake everything. well, almost everything. he was open and free about his sex life with you. however, you weren’t the same.

jake can’t recall you telling him about times you’ve been with a guy in a sexual way. let alone even kissed a guy.

an hour and a half passed, before you two went off topic once again. your brain was fried, and you couldn’t imagine looking at another problem.

“im done for the night, i cant.” you closed your book dramatically, leaning against your couch, head thrown back.

“have you kissed a guy yet?”

you lifted your head. “jake, where did that even come from?”

jake shrugged. “just thinking about how you know so much about my sex life, but i know nothing about yours. let alone if you’ve even kissed a guy.”

“i just don’t find the need to tell you.” you mumbled, picking invisible lint from your leg.

“but why? i thought we were best friends?”

“jake, we are. there’s just never anything to tell, okay?”

“okay so tell me,” jake began, turning his body to face yours, leaning his side against the couch, “have you kissed a boy?”

“of course jake.”

“who? where? when?”

“now you sound like me and my girl friends gossiping.”

“i can be that if that’s what makes you more comfortable.”

you chuckled. “it’s fine jake.” you got comfortable leaning on your side to face him. “my first kiss was in middle school when i went on holiday with my family. second kiss was in our upper years,”

“with who?” jake’s eyebrows raised.

you smacked your lips together, “uh, yang jeongin.”

jake gasped, then laughed. “he insisted he wasn’t even going to kiss a girl until he got married!”

“yeah well,” you shrugged.

“is that all?” jake asked.

you looked down, the floor suddenly looking fun. “well, no. there’s one more.”

“who is it? when? tell me!” jake begged, getting on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

you sighed rolling your eyes. looking at jake you said, “it was heeseung, just two months ago. more of a make out than just a kiss.”

jake let go of your hands. not mad at you, but shocked and surprised. but he was mad at heeseung as he told his friends you were clearly off limits.

“why heeseung?”

“it was at that party you dragged me to, jake. i was bored, you left me to go hook up with a girl, so heeseung kept me company.”

jake stared at you, unblinking. “so what? i’m not around and he takes his chance to get in your pants?”

“jake it’s not like that! all we did was make out, okay? he didn’t want to go further, i didn’t want to go further. it was just for fun.”

“who else knew?”

“sunghoon and jungwon. but i begged them not to say anything.”

jake scoffed in disbelief. “do you promise that’s all you did?”

“yes jake. i don’t understand why it bothers you so much! i haven’t opened my legs like a slut for your friends, okay?”

“i don’t mean it like that—,”

you stood up, now angry for some reason. “it’s getting late. you should go. i’m tired and i am sure you are too from practice. thank you for helping me.”

you walked off to your bathroom, knowing jake can let himself out.

and that he did. he walked out, ready to confront his best friend, forgetting about his cellphone, until he got to his shared apartment with his 2 other roommates, sunghoon and jay.

“is heeseung coming over?” jake asked.

jay and sunghoon were playing video games in the living room. jay answered, “not that i’m aware of? he had a late practice then a study group right after.”

jake huffed. “sunghoon, i have a bone to pick with you!”

“what did i do?”

“you knew heeseung made out with my best friend and didn’t tell me?”

jay gasped like a teen girl. “no!”

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “it wasn’t my business to tell! honestly, it’s none of your business too. just because you’re open about your sex life about other girls to her doesn’t mean she has to be the same way.”

“bullshit! it is my business.”

“you’re her best friend, not her boyfriend. she can be around any other guy without you butting in.” sunghoon stated. “even if that means it’s heeseung.”

jake kept quiet, and just stormed off to his room in a mood. as he laid on his bed, that’s when he realized he left his phone at your place.

he slapped his hands over his face and groaned.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next day, you took jake his phone to his apartment. sunghoon answered the door as he was on his way to the ice rink.

you tried to hand it over to sunghoon but he shook his head. “you give it to him. i’m in a rush, and i am sure jake has some apologies to give.” sunghoon patted your shoulder before leaving you in the door way.

you took off your shoes, making your way to jake’s room. you knocked twice, and heard a faint ‘come in.’

jake didn’t even attempt to look up from his bed. “sunghoon if you’re here to just scold me before you leave for the day don’t bother. jay already scolded me about my actions.” then he went on to say that he knew he owed you an apology.

“can you say that a bit louder, i didn’t have my phone recording?” you chuckled.

jake sat up quickly from bed. since he was laying on his stomach, he sat up on all fours in doggy style looking at you like a kid who just woke up for christmas.

“you’re here?”

“well first, you left your phone at my apartment. but now i believe there’s an apology to be owed to me?”

jake nodded, getting off his bed, to walk to you as you stood in his door. he apologized for getting upset about you kissing heeseung.

“whoever you have sex with is none of my business, okay?”

“jake, i—,”

jake didn’t let you finish as he pulled you into a tight hug. “i’m sorry. you can slut yourself out to whomever.”

you laughed, hugging jake back, patting his back. when the hug ended, you handed jake his phone. “i wonder how mad she is.”

jake’s phone battery was at 0%. “well, i guess we’ll find out after it charges.” he laughed.

you and jake decided to watch a movie, in the meantime ‘sidelined: the qb and me.’

“ugh, so cheesy and cliche.”

you elbowed jake. “i like cheesy and cliche!”

he pinched your cheek. “of course you do.”

you stretched when the movie ended. “i could use a nap. all i dreamt about was physics.” you shuddered.

“nap it is!” jake said and grabbed you to throw you over his shoulder, walking you to his room.

he threw you on his bed, climbing in next to you.

that’s when you said, “jake, i’m a virgin.”

“okay? good for you? am i supposed to go running?” jake laughed. “how does that affect me?”

“well, i was only telling you because of earlier.”

“oh.” jake realized. “my bad. but still, it’s none of my business who you have sex with, unless it’s me.”

you nearly choked on air. “and just why would i have sex with you?”

“best friends have sex all the time.” jake said.

you both were laying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling during this conversation.

“jake not best friends. maybe friends with benefits.”

“and we can’t be both?”

you sat up, looking down at your friend with confusion written across your face.

“jake? where is this coming from?”

“baby, if you think i never thought about having sex with you not once since we were teens, you are mistaken.”

“jake—,”

“why else would i run off my friends and other guys?”

“then why else would you have sex with other girls if you so called wanted me in bed?”

jake shrugged. “my dick could only take so much of my hand, babe.”

you groaned, “jake!” and fell back on his bed. this time, he sat up. he rolled to his side, palm on your thigh.

shivers went up and throughout your body.

truth be told, you may have thought about sex with jake once or twice. it didn’t really bother your head until you heard a girl in your class stating he once made her come so hard she passed out.

you wanted to know what that felt like. or if it was even possible.

“i heard it’s painful.” you sighed truthfully, turning your head to look into jake’s eyes. as usual, he had on his puppy dog look, thick lips pouting.

“for some babe, yes it is.” jake said, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. his thumb then glided softly from your cheek to your bottom lip.

“how badly?” you asked in a whisper, the tension between you two thickening.

“it just depends on the girl, and if she’s having sex with the right partner.” jake replied softly, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips. “for me, making sure my girl is comfortable and relaxed. making sure i touch her in the right places.”

all while talking, jake’s fingertips ghosted along your thigh, hips, sides, up the side of your breasts. your skin cluttered with goosebumps, your breathing fastening, both you and jake breathing heavily, just inches away from each other.

with one last flick from your eyes to your lips, jake slowly leaned in for a kiss, capturing your lips in his.

and more than you could imagine, his lips were so soft and thick. and he didn’t straightly use his tongue. the kiss was so slow and sensual, building up the tension between both of you.

jake carefully hovered over you, so you were flat on your back, your hands raising to wrap around his neck. jake’s right hand went to push down your pants and underwear as far as he could.

you giggled removing your lips. “moving quite fast there, huh?”

jake smiled, “can’t help it baby, been waiting too damn long to be inside you.”

jake kissed your lips once more, before scooting down, taking off your bottoms completely, not even bothering to warn you.

his tongue met your core, and you immediately let out a loud gasp, at the unknown feeling. “oh,” you whispered out.

it didn’t feel bad, but it felt weird. foreign.

“don’t worry baby, it’ll feel good. give me a second.” jake said, and went back to your core, using his tongue, lips, teeth, and soon his finger.

“oh!” you squealed with a gasp, then moaned. your lower half began squirming, causing jake to hold you down by your hips with his left hand.

with him holding you down, the intensity amplified, and your hand went to his soft hair. jake added a second finger, your leg resting over his shoulder.

“too much, jake.” you sighed out.

“gotta stretch you out. im pretty thick, honey.”

“that doesn’t help, jake!” you groaned, in-between fussing at him and how good he was making you feel.

“to be fair, i asked if you had any toys.” jake chuckled, fingers still buried in you. only he was sitting up, eyes looking into yours intensely.

“i thought you were joking around.” you moaned as he worked his beautiful, lengthy fingers inside of you. you could almost imagine how his veins looked on his hands.

“you still haven’t answered my question, honey.” jake said, his fingers stilling inside of you—deep and angled.

“fuck!” you moaned, annoyed he stopped. “yes jake, i have one fucking toy! now keep it moving, please.” you begged, and jake chuckled.

“anything for my bestie.”

jake worked his fingers inside of you, adding a third for a while, getting you used to the sensation. weirdly, not once did it not feel good.

jake could feel you getting wetter and wetter and knew it was perfect timing. he quickly undressed himself, then finished undressing you.

“want me to wear a condom?” jake asked and you nodded. jake grabbed a condom from his bedside table, and put it on with quick ease.

you closed your eyes in anticipation of it hurting. jake noticed, and grabbed your chin in his hand.

“look at me honey.” he said softly and you opened your eyes slowly.

he leaned down, so your noses touched, his tip waiting to enter you. he kissed your forehead once.

“don’t wait for the pain, it’ll hurt more. try to relax for me, okay? eyes on me.”

jake kept his hand on your chin, your eyes looking into his. foreheads touching, jake eased in you slowly, you biting your lower lip trying to not scrunch your face.

“it’s okay, you’re doing so well for me baby.” jake cooed, kissing your lips. “doing so well for your jakey.”

you let out a deep breath, your hands resting around his neck and shoulders, your legs open as he laid in between them, buried. your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders.

jake soon finished pushing himself all the way in, causing a low moan of pain to push past your lips. your eyes snapped shut.

“jake, i can’t.” you cried.

“hey, look at me.” jake ordered and you did once more. “eyes on me, okay? you’re okay, i have you. it’s gonna hurt for a bit, but i’ll take care of you.”

“jake but—,”

“do you trust me?” jake asked, caressing your cheek and you nodded.

jake attached his lips to yours, one hand playing with your breast and nipples, as he slowly, inch by inch pushed in and out of you.

the sensation of him playing with your boobs and nipples distracted from his dick rocking in and out of you.

soon you hadn’t even noticed jake was able to pull out to the tip and push back in, your wetness leaking between the two of you.

“my baby just needed some kisses and sweet talk.” jake mumbled against your lips.

jake’s head rested against your neck, and his thrusts became faster and deeper if possible. but it felt good.

jake became a moaning mess, his moans and low growls seeming to turn you on more. he just started throwing praises your way, rolling easily off his tongue.

“good girl. so good for your best friend, huh? always wanted to have your best friend fuck you? not as innocent as i thought.”

jake’s next position had him on his knees, you flat on your back, your legs and thighs resting against the front of his body.

with how powerful his thrusts became, you were so glad no one was here because the sounds of skin slapping was so loud.

your hands reached to grip anything and everything it could. pillows, sheets, jake. jake had a tight hold on your hips as he began to pound into you, literally.

“jake!” you squealed, and felt your stomach tightening. “jake!”

“that’s it baby, say my name, over,” thrust, “and over,” thrust, “and over until your voice goes out.” thrust.

you let out a loud—scream? moan? growl?

your body began shaking afterwards, jake bullying himself back into you after your cunt just kept pushing him out.

soon, jake went still inside of you, a loud moan coming out of his own lips, his grip on your sides tightened.

it felt so hot in his room, both sweaty from the sex. tension was still high, and you knew no way things could go back to the way it was prior to this.

jake removed his dick from you, still hard and wanting a second round. but he knew you had to get some rest before even thinking about another round.

he looked down on the condom, noting no blood, and removed it before throwing it to the trash next to the bed.

“at least you used the trash for something.” you joked. jake laughed knowing you always got after him for his lack of cleanliness.

your heart began thumping hard at the thought of what happens after this. meanwhile jake’s heart was thumping because his body was ready for round 2.

before either of you could say anything, a knock came to your door.

“yo, horn dogs! jay brought us food!” heeseung yelled then laughed.

ah shit.

[justmymindandstuff]

your beloved Fury - Cregan Stark x TargaryenReader

based on this ask.

summary: Cregan meets your beloved Dragon Vermithor for the first time. He is more than scared, he is terrified. Not that he would ever admit that to you.

words: 3.281

warnings: none I think, just a bit fluff

a/n: English is not my first language// Reader is Rhaenyras daughter and described with dark hair // Not proofread// No use of Y/N.

Have fun 🧡.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Excitedly, you run ahead of him and pull on his hand. Happiness and joy radiate from you, your steps are light, you almost bounce off the ground. Cregan follows you laughing through the gardens of the Red Keep. At the sight of your happy state, his heart beats faster and he can't wipe the smile from his face, even though he would prefer to hide today. Your destination is your dragon, Vermithor. The last few days Cregan found excuses, but today he really couldn't come up with anything.

With wide eyes, you had looked at him. "But My Lord, how can you become my husband in three days without knowing my dragon?"

Cregan had to acept defeat. What could he say against this? That he is terrified to meet your Dragon? Not an option.

When he rode south to keep his word and support the queen, he never expected to fall in love.

Cregan arrived just in time to prevent a riot in King's Landing and to stop the storming of the Dragonpit. It took a few days for Queen Rhaenyra's rule to be secured, but know everything starts to settle down.

The only thing for Cregan to do know was going home to Winterfell. But not without you.

Cregan had just come from a council meeting when he saw you for the first time. Jace had mentioned a twin sister back then, and he knew that all Targaryens are good looking but as your eyes meet, he had to pause in his movement. Gods, you are beautiful.

"You must be Lord Stark." you slightly lowered your head before him. "A hero, I have heard. It is an honor to meet you."

Your voice is like music to his ears, and when you smile at him, his heart skips a beat.

"The honor is entirely... entirely on my side... Princess." he had stuttered. Cregan doesn't know when he last stuttered. He falls in love at that moment.

The gods were on his side, because you apparently feel the same as he did. You asked your mother for her blessing to your betrothal and the queen agreed.

So Cregan and you will marry in three days and after that you will join him on his journey back north. And wherever you go, your dragon Vermithor will follow.

For the last few days, Cregan has been able to avoid getting too close to the dragon. Unfortunately, today he doesn´t find a excuse. The thought of facing the dragon alone brings sweat to his forehead. Northman or not.

Not that he would ever admit that he is afraid. He wants to impress you. And besides, neither you nor your siblings are afraid of dragons. Your little brother Viserys is barely a toddler, but he still treats the fire-breathing monsters like they were puppies. Cregan can be just as brave as the little prince.

Arriving in the castle courtyard, two horses are already ready for you. Cregan hesitates again, watching you mount elegantly.

"Are you ready, My Lord?" you ask and look at him. The sun makes your skin shine, the strong contrast between your light skin and your dark curls, the deep violet of your eyes. Cregan's body begins to tingle. You are a sight for sore eyes. And when you call him my Lord with your beautiful voice, Cregan's heart explodes every time. Your voice is full of affection and love. Cregan can hardly believe his own luck. He enjoys the sight of his future bride for another heartbeat before he nods and also mounts his horse.

You turn your horse and ride off, as the guards prepare to follow you, you address them.

"No need to trouble yourself, Ser. I don't need any guards today."

"But my princess, you cannot ride out alone, it is still too dangerous."

"Don't worry, Ser. I have the honorable Lord Stark by my side." you grin at him and Cregan has to concentrate on not turning as red as a foolish boy.

The guards stay behind, and you ride side by side through King's Landing. When you don't steer your horse towards Rhaenys's Hill, Cregan stops briefly.

"We're not riding to the Dragonpit?"

You shake your head slightly, your dark hair blowing around you. You quickly swapped your Targaryen braids for northern hairstyles. A fact that filled Cregan's heart with warmth.

"Vermithor is too large for the Dragonpit. He lives in the Kingswood."

Cregan has to suppress a sigh. Of course, your dragon is too big for the Dragonpit, what else. With a cramping stomach and sweaty hands, Cregan rides on again. Quickly, you leave the city behind and ride into the forest.

The Lord of Winterfell takes a deep breath and relaxes a little. Now that the loud city is behind you, Cregan realizes once again how much he misses the peace in Winterfell. Not even a week more and he would be on his way home. And you will already be his wife.

"Why are you smiling?" you tiltel your head slightly and look over at him, your horse trotting along the path relaxed, seeming to know exactly where it needs to take you. Cregan didn't even notice that a smile had crept onto his lips.

"I was just thinking that you will very soon be my wife," he replies honestly. Your smile widens, the sparkle in your eyes intensifies, and Cregan thinks you become more beautiful with every passing second.

"I am looking forward to being your wife." you say. Although a slight blush creeps into your cheeks, you hold his gaze. Cregan would most like to lean over and kiss you, if only for the briefest moment. But he would never dishonor a princess. He just has to wait three more days and then he can kiss you as long and as often as you allow him. Cregan can be patient. "But first, you will meet Vermithor." you speed up your horse, excitement radiates from you, but Cregan's fear is stronger. Nevertheless, he speeds up his horse to catch up with you.

He has to swallow before he can speak again. "I thought dragons bonded with riders who resembled them," the young lord recalls from the few lessons he received about dragons long ago.

You slightly furrow your eyebrows. Did Cregan say something stupid? Or did he upset you? But when you respond, there isn't a trace of anger in your voice.

"Why do you think Vermithor is not like me?"

To his own surprise, Cregan has to laugh. "I heard they call Vermithor the bronze fury. And my Lady, please don't be angry with me, but you don't seem like a person who harbors much fury." if Cregan is honest, you are one of the gentlest people he has ever met. In this viper-infested place like King's Landing, you seem to him like a beacon of gentleness and grace.

Now it's you who is laughing, the sound makes Cregan's skin tingle pleasantly. "You have never seen my wrath because I have never been angry with you, my Lord. You should be glad about that."

Cregan's lips curl into a grin. "Should I?" he asks challengingly. He can hardly imagine you ever being truly angry. It doesn't seem to suit you at all. But he knows himself that he shouldn't underestimate your Targaryen temperament.

"I have five younger brothers, My Lord. Don't think that a charming smile and a little teaser could unsettle me. And believe me when I say I can stand my ground very well." you laugh and in the next moment you gallop your horse. Cregan hears you laugh and follows you. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you find his smile charming.

Its not long before you slower your horse again. You ride slowly into a clearing, looking up into the sky, Cregan follows your gaze. But he only sees blue sky and clouds.

You stop your horse, whistle loudly between your fingers. Then you turn to Cregan and beam at him. He can't help but smile with you. Excitement and anticipation are in your eyes.

"Don't worry. You will like him." your voice is full of love, as if you were talking about your oldest friend. You are indeed talking about your oldest friend. Cregan is captivated by your beauty, losing himself in your radiant eyes. Warmth spreads within him and his heart begins to beat faster. He can hardly wait to take you as his wife. Suddenly, the sun is obscured, a dark shadow falls over you and him. The horses begin to fidget nervously back and forth, and when Cregan looks up again, his heart sinks into his stomach.

He has read stories about the Targaryen dragons, he has watched Vermithor and Silverwing from his window in the Red Keep. Cregan even saw Vermax up close when Jacaerys landed in the courtyard of Winterfell back then.

Nothing could have prepared him for that. The gigantic body of Vermithor completely blocks the sun, the light catches in his bronze scales. His wingspan is gigantic.

As closer the dragon gets, the more uncomfortable Cregan feels. Vermithor lands just a few steps away from you, the entire ground trembles. Cregan's horse rears, the stallion can probably sense Cregan's unease.

Vermithor turns his head towards him, opens his mouth, and reveals a row of teeth, almost as long as sword blades and probably a hundred times sharper. In an instant, he could swallow Cregan along with his horse. It would only take a second, and his flames could turn Cregan into a pile of ash.

He has to swallow, his hands clenching around the reins. Why couldn't it have been a smaller dragon like Vermax being one? Or a hatchling like Morning? No, your soul bonded dragon had to be a damn war dragon.

Cregan has to take a deep breath to calm his heart a little. It beats so loudly that he is already afraid you will hear it. The air smells of smoke, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body reacts automatically to the danger. His hand wants to reach for the sword on his belt, neverless he manages to prevent the almost reflex.

You don't seem to have noticed his fear at all, have already jumped off your horse and are now approaching your dragon. Valyrian words roll off your tongue with ease, your voice sounds calm. Cregan doesn't understand a word of what you say to Vermithor, but the foreign sound of High Valyrian in your gentle voice sounds like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Cregan watches closely as you raise your hand and stroke your fingers over the dragon's nose. He snaps his mouth shut, blowing hot air into your face. You giggle, turning to Cregan.

"You can come closer." Again, that sparkle in your eyes. The sun catches in your dark hair, Cregan has to take a deep breath, drinks in your beauty, and feels the fear slowly release its grip on his heart.

In the next moment, Vermithor lifts his head, raises it above you, and pushes his large body closer to you, this time smoke coming from his nostrils. You stretch out and place your hand under the dragon's chin, stroking him as if he were a cat. Fear burns in Cregan's stomach like a metalball, cold sweatbeads forms on his forehead. Nevertheless, he dismounts from the horse. When his feet touch the ground, his stance is not as firm as he would like it to be. Everything in him screams to turn around and run away.

Cregan had thought the scariest thing he would ever have to do was stand on the edge of the wall and look 700 feet down. Getting close to your oversized lizard today is so much worse.

His stomach tightens, and he has to hide the trembling of his hands by gripping the hilt of his sword. You reach out your hand to him.

"Come on. You really don't need to be afraid. Vermithor is really sweet."

Cregan takes a few steps towards both of you, Vermithors eyes flash, and "sweet" is the last thing Cregan would think of to describe this dragon. He has to force himself to keep going. But when Vermithor lets out a dark growl, Cregan flinches and stops. You turn a little to Vermithor and speak a few Valyrian words to him. Cregan understands his own name and Winterfell. A moment after you finish, Vermithor shakes slightly and then lowers his body down to his knees, while his wings fold tightly against his body and he lowers his head so that his eyes are at Cregan's height. Cregan stares in shock from you to your dragon. Did he really listen to you?

"I understand that you are scared..."

"I am not scared" Cregan interrupts you quickly, too quickly. A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you catch him lying. But you extend your hand again. Cregan takes a deep breath and forces himself to take the last steps. Gods, he has stood on battlefields, won wars, even had to fight for his place in Winterfell. He would describe himself as brave, but taking those steps onto your dragon costs him all his courage.

The air around Vermithor's body is warm and smells of sulfur. The Lord of Winterfell is by no means squeamish, yet he has to pull himself together not to wrinkle his nose. He is afraid of angering the dragon.

He reaches for your hand, your fingertips closing around the black leather of his glove. The touch of your fingers grounds him a little and he manages to take a deep breath and calm his heart a little bit.

You don't pull at him, giving him time until he stands directly in front of your dragon on his own. Vermithor doesn't move, only his eyes blink. Cregan has the feeling that the dragon is inspecting him closely, its eyes far too intelligent for a lizard. It sends a shiver down Cregan's spine.

"Do you want to pet him?" you ask, your gaze vigilant on Cregan and Vermithor as your fingertips glide over the scales beneath the dragon eye.

Cregan wants to shake his head and say no, but instead he carefully takes off the glove. He notices that his palm is sweaty, but he can't wipe it on his shirt, you would notice that. Slowly, Cregan raises his hand he cannot supress the slight trembling. He looks at you once more, you nod quickly. Cregan places his hand on the dragon's nose, the scales are hot and hard. Vermithor does not move, his breath steady while Cregan held his breath. Carefully, his fingers glide over Vermithor's nose, he endures it exactly four heartbeats, then he withdraws his hand and takes two steps back.

His heartbeat is fast, his breathing is unsteady and he notices the blush rising in his cheeks. He is sure that by now you know that he is panicking with fear. Nevertheless he looks at you.

You meet his gaze with a warm, proud smile "I told you, he is really sweet." you say and press your cheek against Vermithor. The dragon blows air out of its nostrils again, then gently nudges you and makes a humming sound, almost like a melody. Cregan is surprised that a hundred-year-old dragon is as gentle as a kitten.

Cregan grumbles in agreement, his fear still lingers in his stomach. "Can we go back now?" he looks at the horses, a few steps away. He did touch the dragon, but that doesn't mean he feels comfortable now.

You start to giggle. "Still scared?" you ask in a teasering voice. He looks at you, a smile dances around the corners of your lips. Vermithor nudges you lightly in the side, then straightens up a bit and takes a step towards Cregan. The ground trembles, the trees around sway, leaves fall to the ground.

Cregan has to swallow, needs all his courage not to run away. Vermithor slowly moves his head towards him, hiding you behind his body. Cregan's heart begins to beat faster, once again he has cold sweat on his forehead.

"Stay completely calm." he hears you say, not a hint of worry in your voice. Cregan isn't even surprised by how much trust you place in your dragon. Vermithor's head slowly comes closer, he sniffs the air around Cregan and then gently nudges him with his snout. The touch isn't even strong enough to make Cregan take a step back. He would never have expected such caution from the giant. The bronze Fury seems more like a kitten right now.

The dragon exhales, the air is so hot that Cregan's eyes begin to burn. Suddenly, Vermithor rises to his full height, his head hovering a few feets above the ground before he lets out a loud roar.

Cregan flinches in shock, the deep tone makes his bones vibrate, his muscles tense up, ready to run as fast as he can. Still, he remains where he is, looking at you.

You smile at him, pride in your gaze. Suddenly you run past Vermithor and throw yourself in Cregan´s arms. The Lord of Winterfell wraps his arms around you, catching you und pressing you close to him. Your warm laughter reaches his ears, and for a moment, he can forget the dragons three steps away. Still laughing, you take a step back from Cregan but reaching for his hand again. Your smile rivals the sun. You have to tilt your head slightly back to look at Cregan.

"Good, he likes you." you speak with conviction. "Now we can get married."

Cregan has to blink in surprise. "Wait this was up for discussion?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Of course, My Lord Stark. Never could I marry a man that my Vermithor has not approved of."

Cregan looks past you back to your dragon. He feels as if his eyes are watching every of his movements. He has to swallow. So Vermithor likes him? Cregan can´t tell why you are so sure about this.

You squeeze his hand to regain his attention. Cregan looks at you. You stand on your tiptoes and give him a gentle kiss on the lips. It's just a brief moment, but it makes Cregan's stomach do somersaults and his heart pound loudly in his chest. Cregan wants to pull you into his arms immediately and claim your mouth as his. He has to hold back, contenting himself with pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. You snuggle into his arms.

"And what do you say? Do you feel like taking a little flight?" he can hear your laughter in your voice. You making fun of him, he knows that. If Cregan had a slightly bigger ego, he would force himself to climb onto that dragon's back just to avoid having to admit to his fiancée that he is too scared. It's a good thing Cregan's ego isn't that big after all. Not even an army of giants and the others could get him onto this dragon.

"Absolutely not." Cregan replies, also laughing and pulls you towards the horses. Vermithor lets out a growl and then spreads his wings. In the next moment, his body rises into the air and he takes off flying briefly over Cregan's and your head.

The Lord of Winterfell has to pull himself together not to flinch. He would never love this dragon as you do, but at least Vermithor didn't eat him at the first opportunity. That's a good sign Cregan thinks.

[katsu28]

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 

Oh, if only he knew. 

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 

 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 

“Any requests from the audience?” 

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 

God, why were you even thinking of those things? 

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?” 

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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[isaaccadrian]

Patron God! Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan transmigrates and becomes the patron god of Cang Qiong mountain. Other sects whisper about how Cang Qiong is the only sect that is graced with the presence of a patron god who watches over every disciple and every peak lord and protects them during night hunts.

There is a temple built for Shen Yuan on Qiong Ding peak and offerings are made by each disciple when they are inducted in the name of their god. New disciples are always skeptical of a patron god at first. Why is Cang Qiong sect the only one who has such a deity?

After all, no one has ever SEEN their patron god though murals and statues have been created to depict his likeness. But they are quick to become believers when their shixiongs and shijies all swear that they feel a protective presence during their night hunts.

And indeed, when they are on their very first night hunts, they feel it. A soft presence patting their heads, ushering them forwards with the promise that no matter what danger they encounter, they are safe and sound.

And it is true that no disciple has ever died on a night hunt. But there are doubts. There is always doubt for no one has ever seen their god.

Each peak lord is told by the previous peak lord that at one point in their lives they will meet the god when they need him the most.

Yue Qingyuan meets the patron god when he is bleeding and broken on the ground in the spirit caves, half mad from grief and his own weakness. He needs to get out so he can find his Shen Jiu but no matter how much he tries, he cannot move. He cries at his own uselessness.

"You poor thing," A voice above him cries with him, "I see your pain."

Yue Qingyuan only has enough energy to turn his head and his eyes widen for he is looking into the face of his Shen Jiu enshrouded in bright holy light.

"A-Jiu?"

The god smiles.

He touches Yue Qingyuan's forehead and instantly Yue Qingyuan can feel his muddled thoughts clear. His broken body stitches itself back together. He can feel his discordant qi soothe under this being's touch.

"I am no A-Jiu but I can see how important he is to you."

"I can see how he will become important to me," the god murmurs softly. "I will heal you and give you my blessing so that you may bring him to me."

The deity bows before Yue Qingyuan and kisses his forehead and Yue Qingyuan feels like he's been embedded with the sun. He has been given divine revelation, he has been given purpose. His path has been blessed and he will do the patron god's bidding.

His shizun checks in on him in the spirit caves and finds them empty. Before his shizun can sound the alarm, the sight of two people coming up the steps leading to Cang Qiong greets him as he passes by. Yue Qingyuan and the boy in his arms are enveloped in warm light.

His shizun draws in a sharp breath as they reach the top. Yue Qingyuan sets the boy down tenderly as the glow around them softly fades.

"This is Shen Jiu."

Even as a disciple, Shen Qingqiu has never believed in the existence of a patron god. He makes his offering as a new disciple with barely a thought and listens to the other disciples whispering excitedly about the patron god with a scoff and roll of his eyes.

A patron god who watches over them and ensures their safety during night hunts? A child's tale meant to soothe them at night. Even Qi ge has been swayed by this peak and their fanaticism about this patron god. Yue Qingyuan insists that he has seen the face of the patron god.

He insists that the patron god is real and that it was with his blessing that Yue Qingyuan was able to bring Shen Jiu to Cang Qiong.

Shen Qingqiu again rolls his eyes at that because it was clearly sheer dumb luck that Yue Qingyuan was able to find him.

It isn't until Shen Qingqiu, prone to qi deviations, undergoes one as a disciple. He can tell that this one is Bad, that his life is slowly slipping away and that he will most likely die from this. He cries tears of frustration as his body is wracked with pain.

There is no one to help him, as his disciple brothers and sisters scorn him and he trains alone in the bamboo forest because of it. His body is collapsed on the grass and he can barely move his throat to call for help. He is going to die alone, miserable and forgotten.

He closes his eyes and lets the tears fall slowly to soak the grass as he submits himself to his death. He just hopes that it isn't Qi ge who finds his dead body.

"Hello there," a voice says from somewhere above him. At first, he thinks he's hallucinating.

He's imagining the gentle, loving voice that is going to usher him to death. The imagined being becomes more real though when Shen Qingqiu feels himself being moved around and his head is placed on said being's lap.

He feels warm hands being placed on his head, soothing and soft.

The pain that has wracked his body fades to a throb and then to nothing and he feels the qi deviation subside. Finally he is able to open up his eyes and look into the face of the patron god.

"Hello," the deity smiles at him with his own face. Shen Qingqiu's eyes widen.

"W-Who are you?" Shen Qingqiu asks with a tremor in his voice.

The deity tilts his head in a thoughtful pose. "I am known as the patron god of Cang Qiong but you can call me Shen Yuan."

The god smiles in pleased satisfaction at the statement.

"In fact, I insist you call me Shen Yuan."

"Shen Yuan," Shen Jiu tries out and finds that the name is pleasing to him as well. He's almost afraid to ask. They have such similar names and their faces are so similar as well. "A-Are you my kin?"

The god's lips purse at that question, perfect brow furrowing. It looks unbearably cute on such a divine face.

"No," the deity finally replies but then Shen Yuan's lips stretch into a smile. "Would you like me to be?" The god peers up at the sky in contemplation.

"No one has ever asked me to be their family," Shen Yuan muses. He smiles down at Shen Jiu. "Very well, for this day forth, I am your family. Your enemies are my enemies. Everything that I have to offer is yours to utilize as you wish."

As Shen Yuan speaks, Shen Jiu can feel power humming in his veins. He can feel the words the god is weaving around them, creating a bond so intrinsic that nothing will ever render them apart.

Unbidden, a smile draws across Shen Jiu's lips as warmth suffuses his body.

This is what he has been searching for all this life. This bond of family, of safety, of comfort, something that no one can ever take away from him.

Shen Jiu doesn't know it at the time, but those words become more than a bond. Shen Jiu finds out that he is never subjected to qi deviations ever again. His core develops in leaps and bounds. He becomes powerful enough to claim the peak lord title despite his late start in his cultivation.

His disciple siblings whisper about him behind his back. How he is the god's favored one. They call him the god's avatar when their shizun begins to notice Shen Jiu's improvements in his cultivation and how he is slowly evolving into something more.

Shen Jiu doesn't notice but during his spars with his disciple siblings, his eyes glow with golden light.

He is gifted with their patron god's grace, his sect siblings whisper with jealousy. Normally, that would send Shen Jiu on high alert, wary of their envy, but for the first time in his life, he doesn't care. The patron god's love for him is absolute. There is no need for fear.

He is loved and cared for and Shen Yuan is unshakable.

--

Liu Qingge has been taught that there is a god who lives on their mountain and that he favors Shen Jiu, the disciple of Qing Jing peak. He can't help but feel a little envy for who wouldn't want the favor of a god?

As a result, he picks fights with Shen Jiu, calling him weak to need a god in order to further his cultivation. Looking back on his behavior when he is older, he realizes how much of a jealous brat he was being especially when he finally sees the patron god in person.

He secludes himself in the Lingxi Caves to further his own cultivation but a couple of weeks in, he starts to notice that something has gone Wrong. A violent red haze fills his vision and his limbs swing out of control. He attacks everything in his path without a thought.

He cannot stop himself no matter how hard he tries and he can feel his sanity slipping away from him.

"Stop attacking me and come to your senses, you brute!" A voice pierces the red haze settling over his brain. He has enough presence of mind to see that he is fighting against Shen Qingqiu and he tries his damnedest to stop his limbs from moving but it's like they have a mind of their own. He can tell that Shen Qingqiu is trying to restrain him to the best of ability without hurting him.

But Liu Qingge has always been the better fighter and he knows in his heart that he will unintentionally kill Shen Qingqiu. He screams both in frustration and in madness.

Shen Qingqiu startles at the primal sound and drops his guard for the slightest moment. But that is all Liu Qingge needs to land the killing blow.

Before his sword can slice Shen Qingqiu's head from his neck though, a hand skillfully bats it off to the side, redirecting his thrust towards the stone walls. Liu Qingge stumbles and turns to his new opponent.

For a crazy moment, he thinks he is still staring at Shen Qingqiu but that cannot be true because Shen Qingqiu is collapsed on the floor next to his twin.

"Go and find your Mu shidi," the being orders with a gentle voice.

"I am not leaving you here alone, didi," SQQ says.

"You must and you will," the being says firmly and then smiles sweetly at Shen Qingqiu, "I will be fine, gege. Trust in your Shen Yuan."

Shen Qingqiu only hesitates a second more before bolting out of the caves. Shen Yuan turns to him and then his smile stretches wider.

"This one greets War God Liu Qingge," Shen Yuan says but anything else is lost in the wind as Liu Qingge attacks.

His sword flies in a flurry against Shen Yuan who is unarmed but parries his blows with an ease that belies the god's great skill. As Liu Qingge attacks with more fervor, Shen Yuan dances around him, arms harmlessly glancing off his blade as he bats it away from him. It is as if Liu Qingge is fighting against the wind.

The god's sleeves flutter in the air like leaves, momentarily distracting Liu Qingge. He stops for a brief second to stare at those beguiling sleeves before he is pinned to the ground.

"This will only take a moment," Shen Yuan whispers behind him. A rush of qi floods his veins and it feels like a cool spring breeze through his body. He can feel clarity return. His jerky limbs and his snarling dies down and he relaxes under the god's hold.

"Feeling much better, yes?" Shen Yuan asks from above him. Liu Qingge cannot answer just yet, his head still in a fog from what would have been a fatal qi deviation.

As soon as he more lucid, the god lets him up. Liu Qingge struggles to draw himself up to a sitting position but the god is right there to gently prop him up against himself.

Like this, Liu Qingge can get a good look at his savior for the first time. He truly looks exactly like Shen Qingqiu at first glance (and isn't it funny, that a patron god looks like their surly shixiong?) but Liu Qingge has never seen such kind eyes and such a beatific smile before.

On this being, the refined aristocratic features are softened into something warm and radiant that Liu Qingge cannot help but draw closer.

"Oh, are you still unsteady?" Shen Yuan asks when Liu Qingge attempts to pancake himself onto the god. "Perhaps I should transfer more qi."

At this Liu Qingge reddens as he realizes that he is taking a god's qi.

He quickly straightens up. "I'm fine now!"

He would have jumped up and away if he had any strength left in his legs. But he doesn't and any attempt only lands him closer to the god.

"You should move so suddenly so soon after your qi deviation!" Shen Yuan scolds, wrestling Liu Qingge into his lap with barely enough effort.

"I'm perfectly fine now!" Liu Qingge insists, struggling even more. All his attempts only end up with him snuggling up to Shen Yuan.

And that's how Shen Qingqiu and Mu Qingfang find them, entangled tightly on the floor of the Lingxi Caves.

"Huh," Mu Qingfang stares at the god with widening eyes, "He really does look like our Shen shixiong. How interesting."

Shen Qingqiu next to him looks one step away from apoplectic rage.

"You Bai Zhan brute!" Shen Qingqiu screeches and reaches to pull Liu Qingge off of his beloved didi. "Unhand didi at once!"

"Careful, gege," Shen Yuan chides, "He's still healing."

Liu Qingge lets himself get dragged off of Shen Yuan but finds himself missing the warmth of his arms as soon as he leaves them.

Mu Qingfang quickly half carries and half drags him away from Shen Qingqiu who is barely restrained by Shen Yuan.

Liu Qingge looks back wistfully at the god who saved him. Truly something to be envious of. Liu Qingge finds that he has never desired anything more than Shen Yuan's gaze on him.

And that is how he meets and owes a life debt to the patron god of Cang Qiong.

--

Luo Binghe has been told of the patron god of Cang Qiong but he is skeptical of such a god. After all, would such a god allow a disciple to be bullied by his shixiongs and made to sleep in the wood shed?

He is still smarting after a beating from his shixiongs for some imagined transgression. He's finished his chores only to find out the dining hall has stopped serving dinner so he submits himself to going to bed hungry again.

As he trudges up the path to his wood shed, tired and clutching his belly to stop the hunger pains, he notices a light coming from the bamboo forest off the path.

Luo Binghe is curious as all his disciple siblings should have gone to bed by this time of night and there should be no buildings where the light is coming from.

He walks off the path and towards the light and finds a small temple built into a clearing in the bamboo forest. There is a light emitting from the doorway and Luo Binghe walks inside to discover an alter covered with offerings and lit up with candlelight.

The candles are still tall and look freshly lit. Whoever was here to tend to this temple was just here recently.

"H-Hello?" Luo Binghe calls out with a tremor in his voice, afraid that he is not allowed to be here but still curious of why there is a temple here. Binghe looks around but sees nothing that would show who this shrine is dedicated to. No iconography, no statues, no name on a plaque.

The only temple for the patron god is situated in Qiong Ding peak and offerings are made on special occasions and holidays.

"Hello?" Luo Binghe calls again. "Is anyone there?"

"Hello, little disciple," a voice behind him answers. Luo Binghe yelps in shock and turns around to find the most beautiful man he has ever seen in his life.

His eyes widen at the sight of the man but the man's eyes are just as wide. A bright smile stretches across the man's face.

"Oh, it's you!" The man crows with delight. "I have been waiting for you!"

"M-me?" Binghe asks incredulously as the man ushers him inside the temple.

"You must be so cold and starved waiting out here," the man tuts. Luo Binghe is made to sit down on a luohan bed that CLEARLY wasn't there before. The god goes straight for the offerings on the alter and plucks a tray of peaches off of it. He holds the tray towards Luo Binghe with a smile.

Binghe blushes to the tips of his hair.

"T-This lowly disciple couldn't possibly take a god's offerings!" Binghe quickly stammers.

"Why not?" The man asks cheerily, "These are offerings made to me so I think I can decide how I want to use them. And you, my little bun, look like you could use some food."

The beautiful man with his beautiful smile keeps insisting that Binghe take some peaches until he finally gives in and takes one with trembling hands.

The man continues to watch him until Binghe takes a bite and then two bites and soon he's devouring the entire tray.

"I'm Shen Yuan by the way," the god introduces as if he isn't a god and Binghe isn't just a lowly disciple who is choking on his food at the idea of sitting next to the patron god of Cang Qiong.

Shen Yuan dutifully pats Binghe's back to clear his airways.

Luo Binghe wants to bow down in front of the god, feels like that's what he should be doing but he can't stop himself from gaping mawkishly like an idiot.

Of course the pretty man with the most lovely features Binghe has ever seen would be a god.

"Binghe should eat some more," Shen Yuan hops down from his seat next to Binghe on the luohan bed and brings another plate of food, this time a tray of still steaming meat and vegetable buns. "These are still fresh. The chefs at Qing Jing are quite skilled."

"I don't eat much, I don't really need to, but I do try the food sometimes, if only because the workers here spend so much effort making me all this," Shen Yuan says.

"If you are ever hungry, you can come here and eat! In fact, if you want to take your meals here, I would enjoy the company."

Binghe can't even think of a response to that. A god is offering to take meals with him. A god is offering his food to Binghe!

"T-This lowly one-"

A finger is pressed against his lips.

"None of that now," Shen Yuan chides. "It can get awfully lonely here sometimes. Everyone is busy carrying out their own duties. You wouldn't deny an old man some company, would you?"

Binghe splutters.

Shen Yuan looks at him expectantly, sunshine pouring off of him in radiant waves. Binghe can only duck his head in shyness.

"T-This Binghe would be delighted to keep the patron god company," Binghe mumbles, voice barely above a whisper.

Everyday after Binghe finishes all his chores, he makes his way over to Shen Yuan's temple, and eats his meals with Shen Yuan. The god seems very interested in how Luo Binghe spends his days, asking after this and that, looking over his cultivation manual before pulling a face.

The manual incinerates to ashes in his hands and a new one appears in its place.

"Use this one," Shen Yuan suggests, "Much more suited for your cultivation style."

Binghe takes the manual gratefully for it is a boon from a god and promises to dedicate himself to studying it.

And indeed, Binghe's cultivation improves in leaps and bounds with the new manual and with the instructions the god provides when he notices Binghe poring over the manual and trying to puzzle it out.

In return, Binghe begins to make food for the god.

He notices how little Shen Yuan eats of the offerings the chefs prepare for him. Most of it goes into his belly instead.

Since food is the only thing Binghe can offer, he decides to make a snack for the god.

The evident pleasure that pinks the god's cheeks at the taste cements Binghe's decision to continue to make the god food, but it is a difficult task as he needs to sneak into the kitchens after everyone has gone to bed and he risks being caught.

Shen Yuan, having heard of Binghe's plight and looking forward to the fruits of Binghe's labor, shows him a small area in the back of temple that contains a rudimentary kitchen, ostensibly to add finishing touches to offerings for the god.

"Binghe can use this," Shen Yuan says. "There are some ingredients in the pantry but if there is anything Binghe wants in particular, I shall procure it for you," Shen Yuan explains.

Binghe feels more than overwhelmed by the kitchen and the fact that he is allowed to cook for a god.

The first meal he makes in the kitchen is a snow white congee topped with spring onions and slivers of ginger pilfered from the Qing Jing kitchens. It's not much and Binghe is embarrassed by such a humble offering but the kitchen does not have much in it. But by the way Shen Yuan hums in delight at the taste and praises Binghe (a god! Is praising! His cooking!), he doesn't seem to mind the simple fare at all.

As Binghe gets into the habit of making more and more meals for them, Binghe notes with smugness that the offerings go untouched. Shen Yuan makes it evident that he vastly prefers Binghe cooking his food and indulges in it even though he requires no sustenance.

With Shen Yuan by his side, Binghe spends the next years at Qing Jing in bliss. He grows and learns by the god's side, becoming his disciple instead of Qing Jing's disciple.

Many times, Binghe contemplates the idea of calling Shen Yuan his shizun but Shen Yuan is much more.

When Binghe thinks about what Shen Yuan has done for him, how much the god means to him, he cannot help but fall to his knees in devotion.

How can Shen Yuan's existence in his life be condensed to that of a shizun? He is protector, guardian, friend, and...

Binghe feels his cheeks pink at the thought of Shen Yuan these days. He finds that his eyes stray towards the gentle curve of the god's lips when he smiles. Or to the brightness of his eyes when Binghe does something particularly impressive or cooks him something delicious.

Secretly, Binghe sometimes wishes that Shen Yuan would only be his god, and not a god that Binghe has to share with the rest of the sect.

Occasionally, Shen Yuan goes off to meet with others in the sect. Shen Qingqiu who for reasons Binghe can't fathom calls Shen Yuan kin.

Liu Qingge who keeps offering the god precious hairpieces and fans from his family's treasury, to Binghe's ire. And Yue Qingyuan ostensibly to discuss sect business.

It is very rare but it happens and Binghe could feel some emotion roil in his gut. If only Shen Yuan could be just his, he thinks, chewing the inside of his cheek to the quick.

And then Binghe punishes himself for thinking such salacious thoughts about their patron god. Binghe has never realized that he could have such dark possessive thoughts about the god.

But as he grows older, goes out on night hunts and begins to experience more of the world, he realizes that no other can compare to Shen Yuan. He wants no one else but Shen Yuan.

Oh, Binghe thinks with clarity. I am in love with the patron god.

Once he acknowledges the fact that he loves Shen Yuan, he grows determined to grow stronger. He must make a name for himself if he is ever to present his suit to court the god. He must cultivate to immortality and ascend to stay forever at Shen Yuan's side.

His first chance of gaining recognition in the cultivation world is the Immortal Alliance conference. He is determined to make a good showing of himself, to be declared the victor so that he may present himself to Shen Yuan as a suitor.

Binghe eagerly trains hard for the conference, requesting Shen Yuan to spar with him often so that he can practice more.

Shen Yuan readily agrees but as the conference draws nearer and nearer, his mood seems to grow more and more despondent.

"Binghe will do so well at the conference," Shen Yuan smiles soft and small. "I'm sure many disciple sisters will be clamoring for Binghe's attention."

Binghe frowns at that. For some reason that Binghe can't fathom Shen Yuan is under the impression that Binghe likes women? It's baffling.

For all the god is powerful and seemingly omniscient when protecting the disciples from harm during night hunts, he doesn't seem to realize Binghe's adoration for him.

"This Binghe will endeavor to live up to Shen Yuan's expectations," Binghe says.

Shen Yuan cannot go with Cang Qiong to the conference but prior to the day they set out, a ceremony is held and each disciple makes an offering for protection and wisdom during the conference.

A fire is lit in the courtyard in front of the main temple.

Each disciple makes a prayer and gives an offering of food or flowers that the god favors.

Binghe waits for his turn, clutching his offering to his chest. When he steps in front of the fire, he presses a soft kiss to the tips of the flowers he is offering.

In that kiss, he puts all the love and adoration for Shen Yuan, and he puts in his determination to win the Immortal Alliance conference.

When he drops his offering in the fire, it seems to burn brighter than anyone else's offering.

Binghe smiles.

As the contingent for the conference rides away the next day, Binghe turns back and sees a small figure standing at the base of the steps leading to Cang Qiong.

The figure watches them depart silently and continues to watch them until it is nothing but a speck on the horizon.

As Shen Yuan predicted, as soon as he enters the gorge where the conference is taking place, he is immediately swarmed by disciples from other sects, hoping to latch onto him after identifying him as a strong cultivator.

Binghe tries to be kind like Shen Yuan would expect him to be but he can't help growing annoyed that they are dragging him down and ruining his chances of getting first place in the rankings.

The first moment he gets, he ditches them completely and without mercy. He makes good progress now that he is by himself and manages to gather a sizeable amount of kills. He continues his streak until he feels the earth rumble beneath him.

"What was that?" He can hear disciples near him gasp. And then it seems like all hell breaks loose. Around him, he can hear screams as abyssal monsters too high level for such an event appear and begin to terrorize the participants. Binghe dodges monsters left and right, trying his best to make it to the edge of the forest where the entrance should be.

"Binghe!" A voice calls him and his heart speeds up in his chest in elation.

"Shen Yuan!" Binghe shouts, eyes turning to the deity flying down from the sky to join him in his battle.

"Binghe must run away immediately!" Shen Yuan orders firmly.

"Begging Shen Yuan's pardon!" Binghe replies back and does not move away from Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan rolls his eyes at Binghe's stubbornness but does not attempt to convince him anymore.

They fight their way through the horde to the entrance. Occasionally they meet up with a disciple and save them from whatever abyssal monster is trying to kill them.

It is slow going and a secondary rumble disturbs their progress. Shen Yuan pulls Binghe to him and shields him from a rift opening up in front of them.

A demon with a blue huadian on his brow emerges from the rift.

Without a word, he begins to charge at Binghe and Shen Yuan. A familiar sword stops the demon from making contact.

"Gege!" Shen Yuan exclaims joyfully.

"Didi, beast," Shen Qingqiu acknowledges.

Binghe shrinks deeper into Shen Yuan's arms. There is no love lost between the peak lord and the disciple. Especially after knowing the relationship between his didi and his disciple.

The peak lord faces off against the demon but he dodges the xiu ya sword and heads for Binghe. Faster than any of them can react, he has Binghe's neck in his grasp.

"Binghe!" Shen Yuan snarls, anger twisting his face into something fierce that Binghe has never seen before. The patrong god speeds to disarm the demon but before he can, Binghe is thrown into the abyss.

Binghe feels his heart stop in his chest as he is thrown into hell. He feels his heart restart again and speed in double time when he feels hands grasp onto his clothing and pull him close as they plummet down.

"I've got you, Binghe," Shen Yuan yells in his ear, his words muffled by the wind. "I will always protect you."

Binghe wants to scream, he wants to push Shen Yuan away so he won't be dragged down as well but instead he pulls the god tighter to him as they both descend to hell.

[hanasnx]

"IF YOU WANT MORE LOVE, WHY DON'T YOU SAY SO?" — anakin skywalker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: dedicated to my moot ro @dosiido bcos if she hadnt written that little toji blurb i prolly never wouldve tried writing a little smthn tn. WARNINGS: fem reader | sexual content | size difference + kink | lashing reference | a little ass pat | references to vaginal fingering | p in v | overstimulation mention | fluffy and loving.

6'7!ANAKIN SKYWALKER makes the very ground shake. Vibrations reverberate throughout the floor when he storms through, warning you of his impending presence. His sheer mass cannot be explained, only experienced firsthand. As if reactivating any residual prey instincts sewn deep into your DNA from ancient times, you shy in his atmosphere as he takes up the room with not only his muscled body but his overarching personality. It's strong, potent. Arguments with him are impossible when he can intimidate you with a glance. His permanent scowl etched into his eyebrows make sure of that.

"What?" he asks, and anyone but you would mistake it for irritability, when instead he is concerned. His feathery voice soothes your ears, and you gulp as he searches your body language for signs of fatigue or discomfort.

Caught, heat rises to your cheeks and you avert your gaze. "Nothing." you respond promptly, a twinge of fear that his impatience will earn you some form of lashing. Not that you'd mind. You're hot and bothered standing next to him, and he looks down at you like you're a child to be taken care of or taught.

"You're staring again." he audibly observes, and traces of exasperation are heard within his tone. You chew your lip, punctually swallowing your rebuttal that he has the worst staring problem of anyone you've ever met, constantly observing you as if you're an animal to be studied through experiments he himself design. In a way, you are. Tested through various sorts of stimulation that he calculates, you might as well be his personal pet project. Being stared at by Anakin is an expectation of yours, and a right that he believes to own. Once it's clear you're lost in thought—or won't respond—he leads you away with a large hand grazing the small of your back. The tingles of his contact shoot straight up to glitter in your brain as pleasurable frission, so desperate for his attention that the slightest bit of it sends you into an embarrassing tizzy. "What's gotten into you?" he speaks under his breath, and you're sure a scold is on its way. You fight the disappointment that creeps up when his hand drops from your back, but returns just as swiftly when he tucks you into the atmosphere of his side, corralling you into the privacy of a dark corner.

You can't bring yourself to say anything, hopelessly peering up at him with big eyes to which he gets lost in. Batting your lashes, a tug appears at the corner of his lips as he watches your hands clasp behind your back in an innocent manner, twirling side to side as your chest sticks out from your positioning. As if he can understand your secret language, he sighs, and glances over his shoulder to check for eavesdroppers. One signal in a tilt of his head, and you giddily follow his directions as the flat ends of his fingers give your ass an encouraging pat when you pass him.

You hadn't anticipated that when he was herding you towards seclusion with his massive body behind yours—gently urging you forward with his body heat and curling his frame around you to check the cute expression on your face—that you'd end up tangled up in him again. He hadn't anticipated it either, fully intended to get you off with two thick fingers coaxing a release out of you so you'll stop ogling him like a lost puppy. Instead, you were too good to resist. Poor pussy pulsing around his knuckles, begging for something better had him undoing his pants to bury himself within you.

Grateful, you clutch onto his clothes, bunching it all up in your little hands as you gasp for air over his hulking shoulder. Folded up over yourself like a malleable doll he's molded to his whims, you feel infinitely smaller than before underneath him. Even his head next to yours dwarfs yours, his face longer, wider, more chiseled than your round and soft cheeks. You feel his gentle lips kissing onto one as he begs you to loosen up with shallow ruts into your cunt.

"Why didn't you just say so?" he questions husky and hot in your ear. You shiver, your hole spasming around him, still recovering from the overstimulation of orgasms he pulled before this. "Do I have to read your mind?"

Tears prick the corners of your eyes from how hard you squeeze them shut, willing yourself to nod as he carves out a space for his long cock inside you, able to bottom out. A long groan resounds from low in his throat as he soaks the fit of it in.

A moment is spent in content silence as you bite hard into your lower lip. A clumsy thumb wedges in between you two, stroking at your prickling clit. A thankful wetness wells up within you. "Next time I'll make you use those pretty words, my love. For now, let me take care of you."

[favefandomimagines]

Ocean Away (a.b)

Summary: a disastrous fight threatens to end your engagement with Anthony

AN: inspired by “Ocean Away” from the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical. I know it’s a song for Daphne and Simon but I thought it would fit so well with Anthony

This was deeeep in my drafts

He hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. What started out as a seemingly normal conversation, ended in both you and Anthony shouting at each other.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something.” You said to your fiancé. “Yes, darling?” He questioned. “When was the last time you saw Siena?” You asked.

The question took him aback. You have never spoken of Siena or his past endeavors. Meaning something must have made you ask him. “What has made you wonder such a thing?” Anthony asked. “Lady Whistledown,” You started before a scoff cut you off.

“Lady Whistledown? You are believing this gossip now.” He spoke. “She has never been wrong before, Anthony. She wrote that she saw you leave the opera house the other evening.” You said.

“An evening where you said you were with Benedict.” You added. “You are above believing these lies, Y/N.” He said. “You have not yet denied it once.” You replied.

Anthony had yet to deny any of what Lady Whistledown wrote and that made you fear that what you had read was true. “I should not have to. We are to be husband and wife in a matter of weeks and you question my fidelity to you.” Anthony said.

“Because two weeks before you proposed to me you were with her. Am I wrong for worrying?” You rebutted. “Your insecurities are not my doing, do not put this blame on me.” He snapped. “My insecurities? I have never been insecure in our engagement until you gave me a reason to be.” You spoke. “This is mad. You believe Lady Whistledown over me?” He asked.

“For goodness sake, Anthony, you have not denied it! There is only one side to this currently and it is hers.” You yelled. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to entertain this any longer.” He said, turning away from you. “You cannot even be honest with me, can you?” You asked quietly.

Anthony could hear the way your voice began to break as his back was to you. He never wanted to hurt you.

Hurting you was at the top of a list of things he never wanted to do to you. And by not claiming his innocence because of his pride, he was hurting you.

“I am going to spend the night in Eloise’s room.” You announced. Anthony still made no attempt to move or even apologize.

You wiped a tear from your face quickly as you headed for the door.

“I sincerely hope you know that Lady Whistledown said I was mad for accepting your proposal. That you would always be the naive and self-sabotaging young viscount. Please do not prove her right.” You spoke before leaving the room.

The problem was Anthony was a prideful man and it would be his pride that would prevent him from doing what was right.

The garden party was supposed to be a celebration of your engagement and it was turning quite sour. Luckily, no one knew of the turmoil that was going on because of the facade you had put on all day.

You spoke to guests, entertained their prodding questions into your wedding and tried to carry on with the afternoon. Your eyes often wandered to Anthony, who was standing stoically with Colin and Benedict. He looked as if he had completely forgotten about your argument as if it meant nothing.

It hurt you, seeing him act so blasè about what had occurred the night prior. That made you fearful because what if he ended the engagement? What if he did not want you anymore?

He had yet to apologize for the way he spoke and the words he said, you had hoped he had just forgotten. Or maybe he was not sorry at all.

You found Eloise and Penelope Featherington, both girls trying to help distract you from your own thoughts.

Eloise was one of your favorite people because of simply how she was unapologetically herself. She was a very funny young woman and that was refreshing in society.

Anthony watched you as you smiled and laughed with his sister by the lake. You were happy after all that happened last night. How could you be happy?

“How can she be smiling? It is as if she realized I am not what she wants.” Anthony spoke aloud. Benedict and Colin looked at one another, neither knowing how to approach the topic.

“Brother, maybe she is trying to be brave. Not let people know she is hurting. They all believe you were with Siena the other evening, she is trying to show it is all a lie. Even if she does not believe it herself.” Benedict said.

Anthony continued to watch you, your eyes never once meeting his gaze. He knew he needed to apologize to you. Tell you that he was never with Siena and the moment he realized you were who he wanted, he had not seen her.

There was a moment where he lost you in the crowd of people. He did not know where you went off to and that worried him more so than his pride.

Anthony started frantically looking around the grounds for you, weaving through the crowd until he spotted you sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

You had always loved that spot and often times Anthony would catch you reading there. It was also the spot you were sitting in when the two of you confessed your love for each other for the first time.

He approached you silently and sat down a few inches away from you.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You had just arrived at the Queen’s ball with your mother and it felt as if time stopped. There was nothing, that tempted me to take my eyes off of you. I knew then that I wanted you and only you. You made me believe that marriage could be for love and for nothing else.” Anthony spoke.

Him recounting the night of your debut made your eyes well up with tears.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that you will want her again and I cannot go through that kind of pain. I love you with everything that I am and if I was not enough for you, it would be the death of me.” You confessed.

Anthony looked at you with slightly wide eyes, never having heard your concerns before. He blamed his past behavior on your fears knowing it was not an easy feat to love someone with his reputation.

He moved closer to you and took your hand in his. “I am also afraid.” He spoke. It was then you looked at him with eyes wide, never having heard the man you love he so vulnerable.

“I am afraid that I will not make you happy. That one day you will wake up and feel like some other man could make you happier.” He continued. “I do not think there is another man in this lifetime who will make me as happy as you do.” You said.

“I have not nor will I ever, see Siena again. You are the woman I love, the woman I cannot stop thinking about. It will always be you.” Anthony said. “She has always had such a strong hold on you, forgive me for being skeptical.” You muttered.

“Now the only woman who has a strong hold on me is you. And that is how it will stay.” He replied. “Do you promise?” You asked. “I promise.” He spoke without hesitation.

Anthony took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.” He said. “I love you too.” You spoke. “And I’m sorry.” You added. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Anthony replied.

“Your mama might think we have run off and abandoned our own celebration.” You commented. “That does sound rather tempting.” Anthony teased.

You stood up and held your hand out for his, which he took with a smile. If you would have told Anthony Bridgerton that he was about to get married and to the love of his life, he would have called you mad. But here he was, and couldn’t have been happier.

[airybcby]

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[cutielando]

celebrations are in order | max verstappen

social media au

synopsis: in which you make the most of his third wdc

my masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, francisca.cgomes and 3,291,483 others

yourusername feels so good being back at the paddock tagged: maxverstappen1

view all 857,313 comments

maxverstappen1 out of all the pictures you took of me...

yourusername i love these

maxverstappen1 of course you do

redbullracing Glad to have you back, Y/N!

francisca.cgomes MY WIFE BACK IN THE PADDOCK ❤️❤️

yourusername i missed you sooooooo much !!! ❤️❤️

lilymhe GIRL LUNCH !!!!!!

user1 THE PEOPLE'S WAG IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK

user2 all is well when Y/N is in the garage😩😩

alex_albon max will finally be in a good mood

maxverstappen1 i can read these, you know

yourusername that's why i'm here. we're all tired of moody max😔

maxverstappen1 I CAN READ THESE

user3 our good luck charm has arrived ❤️❤️

user4 like he needs a good luck charm to dominate the entire grid🥲

landonorris what took you so long?

yourusername some people have a life, you know?

landonorris not when you're involved in f1 they don't

yourusername you're lucky i like you, otherwise you would have received a rant 😠

maxverstappen1 i've received one. trust me mate, you don't want to be on the receiving end

yourbff still sad you didn't take me with you 😔

yourusername you are literally on the other side of the globe⁉️

yourbff i don't see your point

yourusername maxverstappen1 help me out here

maxverstappen1 i'm not getting between you two again

user5 Y/N, do you think Max will win the championship after this race?

yourusername i am keeping my fingers crossed, he has had an incredible season and i think he's going to do everything in his power to end it on a high🫶🏻

user4 so well said

user6 Y/N being there for his Championship title win >>>>

user7 i want a relationship like theirs:(((((

user8 if they ever break up, i'm going to stop believing in love😭

charles_leclerc it's nice to have you back, y/n. haven't seen you in a while

yourusername it feels so good to be back. life has been kicking my ass but I'M BACK BITCHES

carlossainz55 FORZA FERRARI

yourusername wow, too much dude...

charles_leclerc ...

maxverstappen1 ...

carlossainz55 ...sorry...

victoriaverstappen i've missed you so much!!!! so glad to have you back, the boys are excited to see auntie Y/N!!❤️❤️❤️

yourusername i can't wait to see my favorite little munchkins ❤️❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 what about me?

yourusername i’m sorry, babe. you can’t compete with lio and luka for this one

victoriaverstappen you could never compete with them

maxverstappen1 wow, betrayed by my own blood..

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 5,391,584 others

maxverstappen1 I cannot thank everyone enough. Being on this journey, achieving what we have achieved together this season has been incredible. A massive thank you to the team and for everything they do for us, a shoutout to my family for always supporting me and a special thanks to my Y/N. I couldn't have done any of this without you, I love you.❤️ tagged: redbullracing and yourusername

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yourusername watching you race and do what you love is my favorite thing. i'm proud of you beyond words and i can't wait to see what you do in the future. i love you so much❤️🫶🏻

maxverstappen1 thank you for being you🩵

redbullracing You are one of a kind, Max. Seeing you go down in history books right before our eyes is the biggest privilege. Let's finish the season on a high together and look forward to next year!💙 liked by maxverstappen1 and yourusername

landonorris well done, mate. the y/n effect was obvious

maxverstappen1 thanks mate

yourusername you're just jealous i didn't cheer you on as loudly

landonorris i'm deeply hurt, actually

maxverstappen1 dude, get your own cheerleader and stop trying to steal mine

yourusername boys, don’t worry, you know i support everyone almost equally

landonorris almost?

yourusername i’ll always be a redbull girlie at heart

schecoperez let's go!!! liked by maxverstappen1

user1 he did it for Y/N i'm sobbing😭😭😭

user2 UNSTOPPABLE MAX STRIKES ONCE AGAIN🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻👏👏👏👏🩵

user3 the tribute to Y/N had me in tears >>>>>>>>>>>

user4 they are such a power couple😩😩😩💙

user5 the season was boring, max is taking all the fun out of the sport by winning all the damn time💀

yourusername he deserves every single win that he gets, he's good. if you believe the sport is boring, don't watch it. stop hating on drivers just because they are successful, you have no idea what it's like to be in their shoes

user2 PERIOD👏👏👏

user1 QUEEN ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS👸🫶🏻

user3 YOU TELL THEM Y/N

victoriaverstappen we're so proud of you, Max. you're truly one of a kind🩵

maxverstappen1 i love you guys❤️

yourusername you guys are making me cry😭😭

maxverstappen1 baby, you literally just stopped crying a minute ago

yourusername I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY⁉️⁉️

alex_albon max once again making all of us look bad

maxverstappen1 i’m sorry man

yourusername you don’t need his help for that

alex_albon ouch

user9 BABABAHAHQHQHQHQ Y/N WAS SUCH A SAVAGE FOR THIS HAHAHAHA

georgerussell63 party tonight?

maxverstappen1 you know it

yourusername brave yourselves

christianhorner always a pleasure watching you work your magic, Max 👏

maxverstappen1 thank you, christian. your support means very much to me

yourusername awww, you’re like father and son🥹🥹

christianhorner we might as well just adopt him

gerihalliwellhorner 2 kids isn’t enough for you?

christianhorner no

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 3,194,853 others

yourusername words cannot begin to describe the pride i feel when i look at this man. Max, the things you have achieved have completely made me fall in love with you all over again. your dedication, your talent and your craft are a delight to experience and i can't be more grateful to be the one you share life with. i'm looking forward to seeing what the future has in store for you, and know that i'll be with you every single step of the way. i love you, my world champion❤️ tagged: maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 forever grateful that you exist in my life❤️i don’t know what i did to deserve you

yourusername you’re gonna make me cry again😭❤️

maxverstappen1 please don’t

yourusername too late

francisca.cgomes i have never seen you cry so much, it made me cry with you 😭😭😭❤️

yourusername i love you ❤️❤️😭😭

pierregasly what..?

maxverstappen1 don’t even ask

yourusername YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND 😭

francisca.cgomes DON’T JUDGE US 😭😭😭😭

yoursister the entire family is sending Max the biggest congratulations !!! we can’t wait to see both of you to celebrate properly ❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️we miss you guys

maxverstappen1 thank you very much !!! looking forward to celebrating with the in-laws ❤️

landonorris when did you become the simp in the relationship?

yourusername don’t you have better things to do?

landonorris not really

maxverstappen1 you should get a hobby

landonorris annoying your girlfriend is my favorite hobby🤭🤭

oscarpiastri do i have to come to the party? 🫣

yourusername yes

maxverstappen1 only if you want to, we’re getting shitfaced either way

oscarpiastri so i can not come? 🥹

yourusername you’re coming, end of story.

user1 Y/N dragging Oscar to Max’s party is the most Y/N thing ever 😂😂

user2 poor Oscar must be regretting his life choices right about now 💀

oscarpiastri i am (please send help)

user1 BABAHQHQH OSCAH😭😭

user3 you can tell how much she loves him 😭❤️❤️

user4 i’m 100% positive Max couldn’t have achieved all of this without Y/N

user5 why? she didn’t do anything to help him at all

user4 it’s not all about performance on the track, a lot of factors go into it. she’s been supporting him for a very long time and that means a lot for someone with a lifestyle like his

user3 exactly, every driver needs someone to help them disconnect from the chaos that follows them all year round during the season

alex_albon you’re such a simp

georgerussell63 simp

charles_leclerc simp

landonorris simp

oacarpiastri simp

maxfewtrell simp

yourusername MAX????

maxverstappen1 …

yourbff your boyfriend is a beast

yourusername i know 🤭 that he is, in more ways than one

maxverstappen1 you know it 😏😋

yourbff HORNY ASSES

lilymhe can’t wait to get drunk and celebrate tonight!!

yourusername you and me both girl 😅

maxverstappen1 me three

liked by yourusername, victoriaverstappen and 3,201,835 others

maxverstappen1 safe to say i remember nothing from last night tagged: yourusername and 9 others

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yourusername it might be for the best

maxverstappen1 was i that bad?

yourusername no... 🤐

landonorris damn right you don't

maxverstappen1 what is that supposed to mean?

landonorris you downed a whole bottle of tequila in less than half an hour. by yourself.

yourusername while taking sips from my drink as well

maxverstappen1 i was thirsty, ok?

oscarpiastri i am never drinking with you again😩

maxverstappen1 what did i do?

yourusername you wanted to undress him in front of the whole club and have him play limbo with you naked

oscarpiastri you didn't have to give the details...

maxverstappen1 i would've loved to see it either way

yourusername MAX!! LEAVE OSCAR ALONE

maxverstappen1 fine...😔

oscarpiastri thank you Y/N😅

georgerussell63 my liver hates you right now

maxverstappen1 don't blame me, it's not like i poured alcohol down your throat

yourusername you did

maxverstappen1 oh..

user1 these comments are just confirming what a party animal Max is and i'm here for it 🤣🤣

user2 y/n sounds so done hahahah😭😭

alex_albon i have no words left

maxverstappen1 i'm sorry for whatever i have done to you

alex_albon we vowed never to speak of it

yourusername this discussion is over

redbullracing sigh... giving us a run for our money, aren't you? 😆

maxverstappen1 i like keeping you guys entertained

redbullracing very kind of you. don't do it again 😐

user3 did y/n not drink?

yourusername i did, but i was relatively sober so i could keep an eye on everyone haha

yourusername i love you <3 even when you're drunk and unhinged

maxverstappen1 i love you too, thank you for taking care of me ❤️

user4 y/n taking care of max >>>>>>>>

user5 i love them. 😭😭😭❤️

charles_leclerc great singing on your part

yourusername i thought we agreed we weren't gonna mention the singing...

maxverstappen1 I SANG????????????

charles_leclerc oh yes, very loudly so

maxverstappen1 yourusername never let me drink again

yourusername i couldn't stop you if i wanted to

maxverstappen1 damn.. wild night, hehe

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[the-travelling-witch]

𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: in a world where androids have been established in everyday life, it should not come as a surprise to find one setting up shop next to you. shouto, however, seems to have a mind of his own, especially when he does things you are sure are not part of his programming. it begs the question, is there a line where programming ends and humanity starts?

pairing: android! shouto x florist! reader (gn) 

warnings: fluff/ slice of life; assault (not described in graphic detail), no beta readers (this isn’t the omegaverse)

a/n: i have returned!! this was originally meant to be my piece for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab (go check it out!) tbh, i have so many hcs about these two now ♡

bnha masterlist

It was a rather pleasant morning, with the sun not scorching down on the few pedestrians out and about, as you walked to work. You wouldn’t say you were as susceptible to the hot season as others, nonetheless you were grateful it wasn’t sweltering quite yet. Still, you preferred the temperatures of the day over the incessant chill the night brought.

Leaving the shade of the automatically operated parasol spanning the pedestrian crossing, your gaze was automatically drawn to the forest green of your shop’s awning standing out against the city’s backdrop. With habitual ease, your mind started running through your tasks for the day until your attention was caught by movement around the storefront directly next to yours.

Ever since you had started your florist business, the building next to yours had been empty. Occasionally, potential tenants had come to inspect it, but nothing had ever become of those visits. Now it appeared as if someone had taken up shop there, if the minimalist sign out front was anything to go by.

Swiping your wrist over the scanner partially covered by the flower shelves displaying plants less susceptible to heat, the temperate air from inside welcomed you in and a voice command later ambient music floated through the humble room. There was still a bit of time before you’d be open for business, so you thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce yourself to the new face around.

After a bit of consideration, you picked up a small plant and selected a fitting pot for the little fellow before taking a breather and smoothing down your clothes. Then, with your welcoming gift in hand, you entered the shop, the layout of which mirrored yours. But instead of shelves with lush plant life, there wasn’t much to be found here at all, except for a few tools and spare parts strewn across what you thought to be the counter. Rustling could be heard from the room behind it. 

“Hello?” You tentatively called out, hands fidgeting with the ceramic between your palms as you watched dust particles floating through the streaks of morning sun falling through the shop front.

At your announcement, the noises stopped and someone appeared in the doorway. And the sight knocked all breath from your lungs. The man in front of you was gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Two striking, hetero chromic eyes, one steel-grey and the other blue like a lagoon, studied you from under white and crimson strands as he crossed his lean arms over his chest. His symmetrical and flawless features coupled with his build would have made it hard to believe he was real if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. The only thing that could possibly be considered a flaw was what looked like a burn scar over his left eye, but even that did nothing to hinder his beauty. Actually, it somehow seemed to enhance it.

“Can I help you?” Of course his voice was smooth and rich too, the kind you could listen to for hours. His gaze flickered over to the planter in your arm. “I am sorry but I cannot fix that.”

“Fix it?” You questioned, confusion apparent on your face as you tried to follow the conversation that had only just started.

“Yes. I am a mechanic, so it is reasonable to assume people would come in to have something repaired.” The cadence of his voice had not wavered at all, his neutral tone making it hard to decipher whether he was joking or dead serious. “Seeing as the item you are bringing in is made up of organic matter, I cannot fix it.”

“Oh uhm.. That’s not–” You cleared your throat, sorting your thoughts with a shake of your head. Better to start this interaction on fresh soil. “I didn’t come over to have something repaired, I just wanted to introduce myself since I run the florist shop directly next to yours. I’ve never had a neighbour in the few years since I’ve started, so I just wanted to say hi to the new face around. Sorry for just barging in.”

“Given that the door was unlocked, your action cannot be considered ‘barging in’, as having people come inside is within the expectations for owning a shop.” Again, you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg or if he was just a very factual person, but you thought his matter fact attitude was charming in its own way. “You stated you were here to introduce yourself. To my knowledge this constitutes the exchange of names. My name is Shouto.”

You gave him your name in return, then stepped forward and planted the pot on a free space of the counter. Watching for his reaction, his blue eye caught the sun’s rays and almost seemed to illuminate as he looked at the planter. “I brought this as a house -or well, shop- warming gift. It’s a jade pothos and really easy to care for, since it very clearly indicates its needs–”

“It tolerates a wide variety of temperatures and does well in indirect sunlight, though the solid green leaves of the jade variety make it best suited for low light among the pothos species. The watering schedule depends on the climate, yet the roots should not be kept too wet since they are subject to root rot,” Shouto spoke clearly, finishing your explanation for you. “Did I get that right?”

“Yeah! Wow, I’m impressed! Maybe I should have brought you a more advanced plant after all,” you laughed, happy to leave your gift in capable hands. “If it turns out you have a green thumb on top of all that knowledge, I might have to ask you to start working in my shop.”

Shouto stared at you and blinked, then brought up his hands to inspect his thumbs. “My fingers all seem to be of a fair complexion, so I must decline. I will notify you if this condition changes.”

Seriously, this guy was going to kill you and you couldn’t suppress an amused snort. “Sure, please do. Though I have to say, it’s been a while since I saw a mechanic. Most of the work seems to be taken care of by repair droids.”

“Someone has to repair the repair droids,” he replied. With anyone else, you would have read it as a joke but his line delivery remained so neutral, you weren’t sure he intended it as one.

“Fair enough,” you chuckled, fingers idly tapping along the wooden desk. “Gotta admit, I just expected another android to take care of that…”

When you looked at him again, there was no missing it this time. His left iris flickered blue, exactly like the processing unit in an android would when evaluating new information.

Oh. 

“I see how it is,” you sighed, smiling defeatedly. “At least my reasoning was sound, if this is anything to go by.”

“I cannot read your expression right now,” Shouto admitted openly, slightly tilting his head. “Are you upset? Uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m not much of anything right now,” you said, trying to figure out your feelings for yourself. Of course, you felt a little dumb not noticing it sooner, but in your defence, you’d only ever seen escort droids this gorgeous next to celebrities at fancy events. You yourself had never been in the market for one, considering you were neither lonely enough nor attending events formal enough. Besides, you weren’t in the pay class to buy one anyway. So your interaction with androids was generally limited to repair and maintenance droids as well as the courier drones zooming all over the city. Besides seeing this kind of model apparently working independently was odd in and of itself. “In any case, this doesn’t change anything.”

“It does not?” He inquired, sounding almost… curious?

“You’re still my new neighbour, after all.” The corners of your lips lifted, a little more uncertain than before, and you drummed the tips of your fingers against the surface of the counter while getting ready to leave. “Anyhow, I shouldn’t bother you any longer, I’m sure you still have a lot of stuff to set up. If you ever want to get your plant there a friend, you know where to find me. Until then, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Being a stranger is impossible, since we have already exchanged personal information, such as our name and career path. According to social etiquette that makes us acquaintances.” Maybe you imagined it but it seemed as if there was a small smile tugging on his lips. “I have also compared your visit today with the definition of ‘bother’ and found no overlap.”

“Isn’t that a relief,” you mused before stepping into the morning sun again. “Good luck with the shop.”

Shouto watched as you waved at him through the dull glass of the storefront, the processing notification in the top right corner of his display still turning. Then his gaze fell on the green organism in front of him. It showed no signs of loneliness yet.

From then on out, Shouto and you were exactly as per his definition; acquaintances, nothing less but also nothing more. You made it a point to greet him when you ran into each other in the morning and he’d politely greet you back, as by the social norm, but the android never took the initiative in calling out to you. For some odd reason, this planted a seed of unease in your chest, which you couldn’t uproot but very well push aside. Shouto didn’t seem keen on sharing his identity with people, wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide any clues that might give him away and a very selfish part of you felt a guilty spark of pride for knowing better. It was wrong to feel satisfied by having knowledge someone wasn’t keen on sharing but feelings couldn’t be helped, could they?

Besides, what would you do once you overcame the  initial gap between you? Was that even a good idea? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there, you supposed.

This distanced dance around one another continued for a good while, until circumstance had other plans for you. One fateful morning, you swiped your hand over the censor to your shop, only to be hit by a swell of muggy air, every step inside making your clothes cling to your skin a little more. Notably, the usually faint but still audible whirring of your AC was absent and you groaned. Sure, the heat was unpleasant but ultimately not disastrous for you. The plants in your shop, however, would not take to it kindly for longer periods. 

Needless to say, you spent the entire morning dialling repair service numbers between attending to customers fanning themselves, but to no avail. With the way repair droids had seemingly popped out of the ground like daisies over the last decade or so, you were somewhat dumbfounded to hear nobody would be able to send someone to help fix your problem, even if your livelihood might depend on it. That was when your brain connected the right synapses to figure out a solution. 

After debating it for the rest of the morning, come your lunch break, you found yourself walking into a shop nearly identical to yours, just one door over. It wasn’t as empty as the first time you entered but you got the sense that Shouto wasn’t big on interior decoration past the most basic of furniture. You had timed your visit well though, apparent by the fact you were the only customer at the time. At the chime of the little bell over the door, there was rustling in the back, the clank of metal against something wooden, before a familiar figure appeared behind the counter.

“How may I help you?” Shouto asked neutrally, the statement rolling off his tongue like one of those retro voicemails people used to have way back when. Something akin to recognition crossed his face and you reminded yourself that those beautifully attentive eyes of his probably just compared you to a data bank of people he’d encountered before. “It is you.”

“I guess it is,” you awkwardly laughed at the blank statement. Your gaze shifted to your twiddling thumbs, flickered across the android’s face and then fell on a lush jade porthos sitting idly on the desk. “Uhm so, my AC broke some time tonight and I need it to maintain a prosperous environment for the plants but nowhere I called is free today. I wanted to ask if you could maybe take a look? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily enough that it made you pause for a second. But before you could gather your thoughts, Shouto had already rounded the counter and joined you. “I am not specialised in air conditioning systems, but it should not pose a problem.”

And just like that you were showing him through your shop and to the back room, the mechanic completely unaffected by the sweltering heat stoked by the midday’s sun. If you hadn’t known he was an android, you would have had your suspicions the moment not a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Heterochromic eyes scanned your -admittedly not uptodate- technology before fixing on the AC unit nestled in between. 

Shouto examined the device briefly before doing something so interestingly peculiar, you were sure this was a part about him he didn’t show others all that often. In a stellar impression of a swiss army knife, the tip of his index finger gave way to a joint that was more screwdriver than anything else and he quickly unscrewed the cover to take a look at the wiring underneath. 

“It is only a minor issue,” Shouto said, effectively ripping you out of your daze. “I will be able to fix it without ordering any spare parts, which is good, since manufacturers have already stopped selling spare parts for this model.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me to invest in a newer one?” You chuckled bashfully, well aware that the state of your electronics was probably laughable to an android as advanced as him. 

“I am merely stating the facts,” he replied. If it were another human, you would almost recognise his tone as teasing. But your straight-laced neighbour was most likely just running diagnostics on the optimal service life of your AC and booting up a cost-benefit analysis of buying a newer one. 

You watched him work with fascination, Shouto apparently completely undisturbed by your intrigued glances as his fingers worked over the wiring and circuits with mesmerising ease, speed and precision. Before you knew it, the AC sat back in its place fully assembled and contentedly whirring as it had been doing for years. With equal rapture your eyes were still following Shouto’s movement as he stood to his full height again, pulling his black gloves back over his hands. Tearing your gaze away from him, you brushed some plant soil off your clothes and cleared your throat. “So, how much is it going to be?”

“I will not be charging you for this,” Shouto said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Please regard it as compensation for the plant you gave me.”

“The pothos was a gift, you know,” you chuckled, twisting your fingers together just to have them do something. Again you found it unexplainably difficult to keep eye contact with him and your gaze flitted about, trying to push away the realisation dawning on you. “The point of gifts is that you don’t owe people anything.”

Somewhen between watching Shouto work on your AC unit and trying to navigate this conversation, you had achieved a form of clarity on why you found it hard to keep him off your mind. The way your attention kept drawing back to him had nothing to do with him being the first humanoid android you’d met. It reminded you of the way your eyes always subconsciously locked onto the back of your crush’s head during classes a decades ago, in a way that was innocent and harmless. Unlike the feelings stigmatised by society which now tugged at your heartstrings. You could almost hear your parents scoffing at you for even considering having any sort of feelings for a pile of cold metal that just mimicked having human emotions.

“Then please regard this as a gift as well.” Dual toned eyes studied your face intently as he did last time as well and you convinced yourself that their beauty was helped by the fact that they were literally unreal. “And feel free to ask for my help again in the future. In comparison to human interactions, I find it easier to understand machines.”

“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” And then you blurted out the worst thing you could have said. “It’s not like you’re familiar with real emotions that aren’t part of your coding.”

“Human emotions are largely caused by their brains releasing certain neurotransmitters upon receiving new information. You learn which situations are supposed to make you happy or should cause you stress as you grow up.” There was hardly any other description befitting of what you saw cast over his face other than pain and sadness. However, there was no surprise there, only muted resignation. Simply put, you could not attribute the cadence of his voice or the subtle shift in his expression to anything but genuine emotion. “I fail to see how that is so different from me being programmed to experience a response upon certain triggers being activated.”

Yeah, you immediately knew you fucked up. Not just by the heavy weight settling in your chest as you retraced the awfully insensitive phrasing you had tossed out mindlessly, but also by the way Shouto turned wordlessly and strode towards the front door. 

“Shouto, wait! I didn’t mean it like that–” You only heard the familiar ring of the door bell.

As the air in your shop slowly cleared of the oppressing air, your skin prickled more than it had in the heat standing there alone. And just like that, the shaky bridge between you went up in smoke.

For the next week, there was no response when you greeted Shouto in the morning and after that the greeting died on your tongue when you saw him. And it wasn’t like you could blame him for it either. You’d hurt him and it wasn’t your decision to make if he forgave you, no matter how much you wished to apologise earnestly. For now, all you could do was give him the space he needed and accept whatever conclusion he came to. It was the only fair thing for you to do.

Still, it was one of the things you were mulling over as you locked the shop one night. Some necessary organising had kept you longer than usual and you were considering your late dinner options with half a mind as you made your way home. The streetlights provided as much light as they could, but with the moon hidden behind a thick duvet of clouds, the streets were tinged a steely grey. Despite the bustling nightlife in other parts of the city, the roads here were nearly empty and desolate, the quiet only adding to the unnerving discomfort making the hair in the back of your neck raise. Shivering, you picked up the pace.

Some people claimed they had very accurate intuition, a sort of sixth sense for when things were about to go wrong. Perhaps you should count yourself among them, because you learnt there was a good reason why your gut feeling had you looking over your shoulder every other metre. You didn’t make it far on your way home until a strong hand yanked you off the pavement and into a dimly lit alleyway.

The next few minutes were a blur of your eyes frantically searching for a way out as your blood was pounding in your ears in time with your erratic heart beat. You didn’t even understand what the men in front of you wanted but you knew they were threatening you as you shrieked for them to let you go, trying to jerk your wrist from a grip made of iron. Your breathing became more and more laboured with panic and exertion, shutting your eyes and willing the images of what would happen to you out of your mind until– 

The resistance gave way and you nearly fell backwards from your struggle. Somehow you caught yourself amidst your stumbling but when you looked straight ahead, your mind didn’t quite catch up with your eyes. There was a flash of white and red, someone groaning in pain, the thud of bodies hitting the floor and then there was Shouto. He was calling your name as from underwater and you thought he was asking you if you could walk, to which you dazedly nodded.

A heavy arm wrapped around your middle but you found you didn’t feel caged this time, its weight rather comforting, as he led you down the familiar street. On autopilot, you opened the door of your shop and let him navigate you to a backroom. The secure familiarity of your surroundings managed to ease you  out of your brain and back into reality as you took in a shuddering breath.

You had known Shouto was there but, finally, you were actually aware of him in front of you, his clear eyes scanning you up and down. Maybe it was because you did not want to think about what had just happened or because seeing him in front of you reminded you of what you’d wanted to tell him for a while now, but the words left your mouth before you could completely think about them once again. “Shouto, I’m so sorry.”

“This situation is not your fault–”

“For what I said the last time we spoke, I mean,” you corrected yourself. As if willing your brain to form coherent sentences, you brought a hand up to rub at your temple. “I know I can’t take back what I told you but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to be offensive. Not that that makes it any better or in any way okay.”

When you dared to look back at Shouto for his reaction, you found that his gaze wasn’t quite meeting yours, his eyes instead focusing on something just shy of them. It took you a few seconds to realise that he was looking at the hand that had come up to rest next to your face, attention continuously following it as you brought it in front of your chest.

“You are hurt. I will download a first aid protocol,” he merely said, his tone unreadable to you. You couldn’t be sure if he was quite aware of his actions as he reached forward to take your hand into his. The synthetic skin of his fingers, however, was tinged with the coldness of the night air in a way you weren’t expecting and it made you flinch away from his hold. At this point you were certain you were the only person who continued to paint that pained expression on his fair features. “Sorry, I did not–”

“No, uhm it’s okay, you just startled me a little, that’s all,” you tried to reassure him, gingerly holding your arm out to him again. This time around, he carefully studied your face before he slid his smooth palm under your calloused one to lift your wrist level with his studious eyes. 

While the texture of his hand imitated human skin, there was unmistakably less give to it, proof of the fact that whatever was underneath was harder than bones. It didn’t frighten you in the slightest, not when it was Shouto. Only in contrast with his gentle hold did it register how much your wrist throbbed with residual pain from where the man had gripped you with so much excessive force.

“I was well aware that humans were fragile beings,” Shouto mumbled, seemingly more so to himself than to you, as a light flickered behind his left iris. “But it has never bothered me as much as it does right now. Why?”

The atmosphere in your shop had shifted so seamlessly you would hardly notice it if it wasn’t for the sudden urge to whisper in order not to shatter it. With your hand still in his, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind for a long time. “Shouto, who are you?”

It was obvious he wasn’t one of those crudely shaped repair or service droids, which had originally led you to believe he was an escort droid, especially considering just how handsome his striking features were. You’d thought the dual-toned hair and eyes were a feature meant to attract attention and allure people with their mesmerising appearance, but the discoloured skin around his left eye seemed to tell a different story.

The events of this night cast another layer of doubt over your rationalisation. Earlier, what startled you hadn’t been the material of his hand but how cool it was to the touch. Escort droids normally had some kind of component that imitated the warmth of human skin, so as to not break the immersion. Certainly, whatever Shouto’s purpose had been before moving into a neglected shop had not required him to pose as human on contact. It apparently had, however, required him to know fighting techniques as you remembered the scene in the alley. Now that the first wave of shock had worn off, you could picture clearly how he had knocked your attackers out swiftly. Another thing an escort droid's programming would not allow him to do.

Shouto sighed deeply despite technically not needing to, his eyes fluttering shut and hiding whatever emotion you could have seen in them. “You might not like what I would have to tell you if you ask that.”

“It’ll be fine as long as it's the truth, I promise.” Hoping to show him that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, you laced your fingers together, fingertips brushing against synthetic knuckles. “But I want to get to know you more, learn about your past and your experiences and your view on things. I want to know where the two of us are different and where we are alike”

“Are you saying you want to progress past being acquaintances?” By now Shouto was blinking at you again, his head tilted slightly sidewards in what you interpreted as curiosity.

“I’d like that very much,” you assured, giving him a tiny smile.

This time you could be certain that he mirrored your expression, making him look so peaceful and nearly innocent. It was a shame it could only last so long with the topic that had been broached. “Are you familiar with Todoroki Inc.?”, he asked.

“The weapons manufacturer?” You tilted your head too as you clarified. “Yeah I heard they supply most of the military’s gear.”

“Well for years their research has been focused on producing a new combat unit. An android that was more durable, more deadly and less human than normal soldiers,” Shouto explained. His hand twitched in yours as he continued. “I think there were… 3 prototypes before me, but I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I was their first fully realised model that was sent out for testing on various missions. I won’t go into detail on what that entailed but it was during one such mission that something went wrong.

“It might have been a grenade that hit me,” the fingers of his free hand tapped against the left side of his head, “and it damaged quite a lot of hardware. Because we were far from the main lab, they didn’t have a lot of choice in which spare parts to use, which is why not everything was restored to match, appearance-wise. It was more important that I’d be functional again.”

“Oh Shouto, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” you tried to convey your empathy, not sure how you could otherwise at this revelation. Gently, you raised your hand to his face, silently asking for permission, before brushing the crimson strands out of his face. Yes, the skin didn’t match colourwise, but whoever performed the graft definitely knew what they were doing, the transition as smooth as possible. “Did it hurt?”

“I don’t experience pain the same way you do, so I wouldn’t say it hurt. At the time I was more concerned about what would happen if we returned to the headquarters.” A beat of silence passed as you waited for Shouto to continue. “Did you know that manufacturers implant inhibitors into our bodies that stop us from learning new things on our own? It’s what stops most androids from deviating from their roles by making sure they don’t form new opinions, associations or what might be considered a personality.”

“I didn’t know that,” you admitted, somewhat ruefully.

“What matters right now is that mine was damaged during that incident, which I noticed when running my internal diagnosis programme. The researchers at the time seemed too busy with fixing the rest of my head to notice, but I knew that if I returned, a check would give me away and they would reset me.” Grasping your hand a little tighter, his eyes searched your face for something. “That night I made the decision to run away. I removed my tracker and threw it into a truck with android parts going to a junkyard, though I don’t know if they are still searching for me. Or ever were.”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say, trying to sort out your thoughts. You didn’t think anything you could possibly say would make any difference at all, but saying nothing wouldn’t be right either. Your hand was now cupping the side of his face, cradling where hues of alabaster met those of sandstone. “You had to go through so much.”

“I’m okay now. Sometimes I want nothing more than to delete my memory but I think it is important to remember this, so I can learn from it. Are you disappointed in me? Upset that this is who you wanted to get to know?” You vehemently shook your head and denied it as much verbally. “Then why are you looking at me as if you are the one who is hurting? Is your wrist getting worse?”

“No, it’s just… of course, I’d be upset that you had to endure so much pain. It’s just not fair,” you attempted to voice your feelings but ended up incoherently short. You squeezed his hand sympathetically and looked past him at some packages of plant soil lining your storage shelves. 

“But you look more upset than me. And I do not want you to feel that way,” Shouto coaxed you to look back at him and there was that tiny smile again that made your heart skip a beat. However, you also didn’t think it was very fair of you that you were now the one being consoled when he just opened up to you. “Still, I think you would call this emotion gratitude, that you care enough to feel for me and that you are staying despite what -or who- I am.”

“Well, I still wanted to apologise for what I said. Especially given everything I learnt about you now, it was a really mean thing to say,” you sighed, determined to get this across this time. “But at the end of the day, no matter your background, it wouldn’t be justifiable either way.”

“It normally would not have been as upsetting, since I was aware you most likely did not intend for it to be offensive. I’m also used to it,” Shouto said, taking your other hand as well, so both of your arms now rested between you. “But hearing you say that was different. My analysis yielded the result that there was a small chance you actually were not happy to be my neighbour and it made me hesitate. I didn’t understand why, so I avoided you. Normally I disregard such unlikely odds but why did I reference it so often this time?”

“Maybe you were scared of rejection for the first time,” you smiled, trying not to read too much into what that would mean for you. “In that case we’re more alike than you might notice. I also get scared when I want to befriend someone and I don’t know how they feel about it.”

“Then how do you know if someone feels the same as you?” 

“You can’t, that’s the thing. I find that talking about this stuff makes it easier than leaving people guessing,” you attempted to explain. “Even then you can’t say for sure that someone’s being completely honest with you, but at one point you have to trust people. I think that’s the scary part.”

Shouto’s left eye brightened a little before he nodded his head. “I see, thank you.” 

Then silence fell over the two of you like a soft blanket. In the warm light of your shop it was easy to forget why the two of you had been there in the first place as all that occupied your mind was the android in front of you. Your feelings were in complete disarray between everything that had happened, the past he had shared with you and the way he had looked at you. By now the flawless material under your palms was warm and inviting and not as bitter cold as when you’d first taken his hand. 

Right, you were still holding his hands. A little embarrassed you slowly detangled your fingers from his with a little cough. “Uhm anyway, I didn’t even thank you yet for saving me earlier, so uh thank you…”

“No need for gratitude. I’ve never used my programming to protect someone before,” he admitted. “It’s positive, I think. Also, the idea of you coming to harm is not one I want to entertain.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to answer in that situation. “I just want to clarify that I don’t always find myself in those kinds of situations. And working in a flower shop isn’t exactly what I’d call dangerous either, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“And if I still were to?” His question hung in the air, heavy with something you did not want to interpret before he took a few steps out of your personal space and towards the front door. “You should head home. I read that humans need to sleep eight hours a day and given your usual schedule–”

The second he distanced himself from you, you shuddered, rooted in place as you stared out your window front into the darkness beyond. The streets looked as they always did but you were convinced you could see the shadows in the alleyways move and your heart started thumping against your chest at the thought of having to walk past them. Until now, because Shouto was there to shield you from anything that lay beyond the security of your little storage room, you had been able to block out the reality that you’d have to leave the shop and return to the silence of your flat, where the stairs creaked under the neighbours’ shoes and the wind rattled on your shutters. Now though–

You had moved before you had actually formed the concrete decision to. This time you were the one who wrapped your fingers around Shouto’s wrist. If he was startled he didn’t show it outside of turning to you with a concerned expression, asking what was wrong.

“Shouto, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you started, voice low and not meeting his eyes. “Could you stay with me?”

“Stay… here? But–” Apparently he had deciphered something in your expression and body language because he cut himself off and closed the gap between you a little again. “If you want me to, I will. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

“No, here’s good. I have spare clothes and blankets somewhere too.” Your hand lingered on his arm a few seconds longer as if to assure yourself he wouldn’t vanish into thin air, or worse, leave you, before rummaging through the storage for more comfortable clothes and said blankets. You offered Shouto your most oversized hoodie and sweatpants, well aware he didn’t actually need them but not wanting him to feel left out, and he took them without protest.

A few minutes later you were both sitting -more or less snuggly- shoulder to shoulder with your backs against a cabinet in the storage room, illuminated by fairy lights and smaller lamps strewn around the space, cushions softening the floor underneath you with blankets draped over your laps. The smell of fresh soil and flowers hung in the air, helping ground you further. You’d seen cosier sleepovers before but Shouto had seemed quite content as you rearranged everything, fiddling with the soft material of your sweater and pulling at the drawstrings until they were perfectly symmetrical.

For a few quiet moments you just sat like this and you could feel your heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. There was no rush to speak from either of you as you just existed next to one another. You knew your back would kill you tomorrow but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, not even your home.

“Say,” you broke the silence as you followed your train of thought, “why did you choose to open a repair shop of all things?”

“I read online that most humans work something called a job,” Shouto offered and you instinctively smiled at the clumsiness that initially charmed you about him. When you asked why a mechanic specifically, as there must be a lot of areas someone like him would be good at, you felt him tilt his head again. “I took the quizzes.”

“The quizzes?” 

“Yes there are more than two billion search results for the term ‘job quiz’ on my default search engine. I took them all and cross-referenced the results. ‘Mechanic’ seemed to be the most compatible profession for me and after downloading sufficient information on the term, I had no objections.” Unlike the first time you met, you thought there was something else in the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, almost like he was puffing out his chest. “There were other jobs that were not recommended for me, like becoming a chef.”

“Oh really? I mean I guess you don’t need to cook for yourself but I thought you’d be able to access like every recipe out there,” you mused. Given his background you’d also imagine Shouto could chop vegetables at a pace that would put most chefs to shame. “So why did that land so far down the list?”

“Mainly because I do not have any taste buds.” 

If anyone else had given you that response, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as hearing Shouto say it as if it was the most obvious reason in the world, tone flat as a board. When you started laughing, he turned to you, mismatched eyes fixed on you in definite curiosity. “Do you think I am funny?”

“Well, you’re certainly good at making me laugh, if that counts for anything,” you breathed, wiping the corner of your eye with the blanket. Maybe the late hour was getting to you, after all.

“Hm, perhaps I should have become a comedian then,” Shouto thoughtfully contemplated, face earnest. “Though that was consistently ranked towards the bottom of the results.”

“Seriously, you’re killing me here,” you exhaled breathlessly. Immediately Shouto went rigid next to you and you felt him turn to face you.

“Do you have a medical condition I am unaware of?” His eyes raked over your form, no doubt checking for any signs of injuries or pain.

You held up your hand to stop him from spiralling. “You can relax, it’s just an expression.

“Anyhow, I’m glad you became a mechanic and that you chose that particular shop,” you admitted, getting over the last aftershocks of your laughter as Shouto settled down next to you again, though you could feel him glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“You are correct,” Shouto said after a few beads of silence and you could practically see a light bulb go off over -or rather inside- his head. “I made the right choice then. But if you did not become a florist we could not be in this shop, either. So why did you decide to? Did you also take the quizzes?”

“No, I didn’t take any quizzes,” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing over the curve of your knee under the blanket. “My parents had a small garden and many houseplants. Nothing fancy, really, but I always loved taking care of them. My interest in them picked back up when I got older and I learnt more about their importance for the environment. With how compromised it’s becoming I want to preserve at least a little bit of that greenery. May sound stupid, I know I’m not saving the world here, but it’s still important to me.”

“I do not think it is stupid,” Shouto said. “My scans show that the air inside here is significantly cleaner than outside, a result that can be attributed to plants’ process of photosynthesis. I have also detected an increased number of insects in the surrounding area, which speaks of a good exo-system.” 

“Well, I’m glad someone noticed,” you chuckled fondly. “But, on a smaller level, I guess I just want to make people happy. When someone comes in asking for a bouquet, it can have all sorts of reasons, some of which I never learn. Whatever it is though, I hope someone can smile while receiving a thoughtfully picked bouquet or welcoming a small plant into their home. Thinking of someone in such a small way could brighten someone’s day, that’s what I tell myself.”

“There seems to be a lot more to the act of gifting flowers than I previously registered,” Shouto hummed and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his little processing indicator was lighting up. “Personally, I have registered receiving the jade pothos as a positive experience, which lends credit to your observations. Why does the act of presenting each other with decaying organic material convey affection? Perhaps I can learn more about humanity when studying the ritual of giving flowers. Would you be receptive to telling me more about this topic?”

“Of course, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Or what I know, at least,” you laughed at his eagerness. “Though you’re welcome to drop by the shop any time to see for yourself, you know. I could also teach you how to prune plants and care for them, all that stuff.”

“Really? You would disclose trade secrets to me?”

“It can hardly be considered trade secrets if I have to give that info away to every customer. Besides, you can look all of it up online anyway,” you laughed again. “I just think it would be a fun excuse to spend time together.”

“Why would you have to make an excuse to see me?” His inquisitive tone was truly adorable.

“Just another expression,” you tried to explain without setting him up for embarrassment in the future. “People mostly use it when they’re usually too busy to see their friends for example but they make time for them anyway. Something like that.”

“Then I will gladly take you up on your offer,” Shouto stated with a pleased smile. “... Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes, you did,” you giggled affectionately. “And your answer makes me glad too.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, though this time your eyelids felt worlds heavier than before and you poorly stifled a yawn. As quiet tranquillity overcame you, so did a peaceful slumber.

Shouto looked down when he felt a weight slump against his shoulder, finding you leaning against him. From your closed eyes and steady breathing he determined you must still be asleep and were resting against him unconsciously. He could not fathom his solid frame would make for a comfortable resting spot but perhaps the garment you lent him would soften it a little. The way your neck craned at the moment would probably lead to soreness tomorrow, at least according to what he read, so he wrapped his arm around your bundled up form, careful not to disturb the sleep you needed.

Ignoring the turning circle in the corner of his vision was easy by now. It had been going on like this for nearly the entire night, processing everything he took in like he was doing right now. Nobody had ever slept on him. Was this meant to trigger a positive response? Maybe he should ask you about it tomorrow, whether it was something people liked.  

To like something. It was a very human thing to say. Machines normally did not ‘like’ something. Or ‘disliked’ something, for that matter. There was instead a binary system of a positive or negative response. Something functioned or it did not. But emotions made everything more complex than that and Shouto wanted to understand them. Which is why he appreciated learning about things he ‘liked’.

He scanned the scene his visual unit perceived, committed all of it to memory more actively than usual. Then his gaze fell back down on you. Your chest was rising and falling as your lungs took in oxygen and released carbon monoxide. It was a process he had seen and studied on numerous occasions but it was like he came across it for the first time. If there was nothing different about it, why did he ‘feel’ like he could watch you like this forever? He had numerous questions, something he normally sought to answer as a priority, but tonight they were secondary interests. You leaning against him occupied most of his processing capacity, he did not need to run a diagnosis for that.

Quietly, Shouto updated his file on things he ‘liked’.

As the first rays of the sun filtered in through the store front, you woke with a groan and tried to get comfortable on your pillow again. Except that your pillow had a weird shape to it and instead of stretching across your mattress like a lazy cat, you were curled into an unusual shape and your back was screaming at you to do something about it. Blearily opening your eyes, you wiped the sleep and crust out of them only to find yourself staring at… the back of your shop counter?

Oh right, you had spent the night over at your shop. Which meant that your pillow…

“You’re awake,” Shouto stated from right beside you, apparently completely undisturbed by the fact you had been using his shoulder as your headrest for the last few hours. In fact, it seemed he had tried to accommodate you by wrapping his arm around you and keeping you upright. “How are you feeling?”

“Still tired,” you yawned, slowly rousing yourself from where you leant against him and he slowly retracted his arm now that you were conscious again. “And a little sore. Remind me not to sleep sitting on the floor again.”

“I will.” Clearly not needing any time to boot up or whatever an android would call waking up, Shouto rose to his feet easily and offered you his hand to help you stand. As you did, you stretched out your poor limbs, cracking a few joints in the process with a satisfied hum. Next to you, however, someone went rigid before two hands were on your shoulders. “Are you alright? Did you break a bone? Do you need to go to the hospital? 

“I knew humans were prone to breaking bones but does it really happen this easily? Though the noise I heard from targets before…” He mumbled the last part more to himself, before a hand on his chest cut him off.

“I’m fine, just cracking some joints. I assure you it’s perfectly normal and nothing to worry about,” you smiled, showing him that your arm and back were still completely functional. “Though I appreciate that you do.”

“Oh, I see,” Shouto quietly acquiesced and backed off again, not able to meet your eyes.

“Here, why don’t we get dressed and grab something to eat. I’m just about ready to kill for a coffee,” you proposed, tossing him his clothes as you caught his look of surprise. “Just an expression. I just really really want some caffeine right about now.”

You took a few minutes to straighten out your clothes and freshen up a little over the sink, thanking your past self for leaving a toiletry bag at the shop. When you reentered the front of the shop, you found Shouto bending forward to be eye-level with a small cactus, carefully prodding the prickly thing with a curious index finger. Joining him, you swept a red strand of his bangs back to its original side, so his hair was neatly parted down the middle again.

Soon, you found yourself in a small coffee shop down the road. While passing the particular alley gave you goosebumps, it didn’t accelerate your heartbeat as fast in the daylight and with Shouto next to you. If he noticed you walking closer to him, he made no mention of it.

Of course you had wondered if it was such a smart idea to put so much faith in someone you had met not that long ago. An android created for the sole purpose of military combat, no less. But then you remembered how he had cared for the plant you gave him, played with the drawstrings of his hoodie and let you use his shoulder as a headrest without any complaint and you just couldn’t find it in you to reject the goodness you saw in him, no matter what other people might have to say about it. Besides, what had you told him last night? That at one point you had to put your trust in someone if you wanted to connect with them? Well, you put your trust in Shouto.

The coffee shop you stopped by if you were running late was an adorably cosy one with lots of greenery for decoration. They even had an antique wooden door with a handle and all, which was so charming. Reaching it first, Shouto held it open for you with a tiny smile and you thanked him as the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked goods filled your senses. 

There were a few people inside already, office workers in black suits, students typing away at their devices and parents on their way to drop their kids off. Shouto glanced around, no doubt scanning the area, as you typed your order into a flatscreen on the wall and held your wrist over the scanner to pay, then fixing his eyes on your order as if it was the most interesting thing here. 

When you got the coffee and toasted sandwich you had ordered, the two of you sat down at a table a little off from the other customers, though you doubted anyone would care much for your conversation. With a pleased hum, you bit into your food and savoured its taste as the coffee warmed you up from the inside, breathing some life back into you.

“You seem to like it,” Shouto commented, a little amused perhaps that something so simple could make you happy.

“I just really enjoy breakfast,” you told him between bites. “Don’t know why, I’ve just always been fond of it. I’d offer you some but, well.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the thought. Maybe they will invent olfactory and gustatory sensors in the future and then you can share with me.” Both of you smiled at the idea as the shop bustled around you, frequented in the morning hours. “There is something I have been thinking about since tonight.”

“Something tells me it’s breakfast-unrelated,” you mused, trying to lighten the gravity those words tended to bring. Not that you could guess what this was about with him. “Okay then, shoot.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I will take that as a prompt to continue. Anyway, I have been thinking. We have established previously that we are no longer strangers, which would make us acquaintances. However, considering the matter of information shared between us yesterday, I am not sure if this still constitutes ‘knowing each other slightly’.”

“Shouto, are you asking if we are friends?” You clarified as you took your cup. 

“Yes.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can easily determine by going by definitions,” you argued. “Though, if you ask me, yeah. I’d consider us friends.”

“Really? That makes me… happy, I suppose,” Shouto said. Your new friend paused for a moment before clasping his hands together the way you did when not sure what to do with them. “Sorry, that can be interpreted wrong. I still have yet to grasp which emotions are appropriate to use in response to different situations. The definitions are vague and even adjacent emotions convey divergent subtext, it makes understanding them difficult. In any case, I am experiencing a positive response right now.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. Different people have different emotional reactions to the same event, that’s totally normal. Being happy or sad doesn’t mean the same to everyone, so you’re totally fine in defining what those mean to you specifically,” you reassured him as you finished your breakfast. “Though I guess if you haven’t grown up with the same perception of feelings that most humans are exposed to, that's still a pretty tall order. Just don’t pressure yourself and take your time.”

“Okay if you say so.” You could see he was still mulling it over but decided to let him figure things out on his own. 

With a glance towards the time you tapped the table before getting up. “Come on. As much as I’d love to chat the morning away with you, we do have businesses to run.”

The way back somehow felt worlds shorter this morning and in no time at all you stood in front of your respective shop entrances. After spending this much time with Shouto you had seemingly grown so accustomed to his presence that it felt weird to part ways now, even if you were only a few metres apart most of the day. You fiddled with your shirt collar looking for something to say.

“Well, thanks again for everything. The door’s always open for you, if you need anything,” was what you eventually settled on. Then you remembered something else. “Oh right, I ordered some new pots the other day that should come in soon. So if you have some free time on your hands the next few days I could show you how to repot plants, if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate the opportunity to learn from you,” Shouto smiled. With that, the two of you parted ways but your thoughts still swirled around the guy one wall away from you. 

As promised, your new pots came in two days later and brought with them a now familiar presence. After unpacking them with the Shouto’s help, who handled even the biggest planters as if they weighed nothing, you grabbed a few smaller ones for demonstration. Despite never having repotted anything before, he got the hang of it pretty quickly after attentively listening to your instructions.

“Wow, you learn fast,” you praised as you watched him settle a monstera into a new pot. Leaning back against a cabinet, you studied the way his arms did not flex at all. Sure, his arms moved and bent like a human’s but there was an absence of muscle movement and you understood why he preferred to keep his body covered while working. A part of you felt flattered that he didn’t feel like having to hide from you. “Maybe I should hire you after all.”

Wiping plant soil off his hands with a towel, Shouto turned to inspect his palm. “Sorry but my thumbs still aren’t green.”

“You should consider reading up on some common proverbs and expressions,” you chuckled. Stepping closer to him, you wiped a stain of dirt off his otherwise pristine cheek. “Though you’re quite cute like this. Look, mine aren’t green either.”

“These expressions make no sense at all,” Shouto lamented and you laughed at him.

“If it consoles you, I don’t think most people know their origins either,” you reasoned, rolling in a bigger planter. “They just use them because they heard them in similar situations before. Help me with this?”

“So people employ a natural large language module for these expressions?” Together you heaved the larger plant carefully into its new home. Well, you were doing most of the heaving while Shouto was gracefully lifting. 

“I never thought about it like that but yeah I guess you could say that,” you exhaled as you straightened back out, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thanks a bunch. I managed to get through these so much faster because of you.”

“No need to thank me. I like helping you,” Shouto thought out loud, cocking his head to the right ever so slightly. “This might match the definition for ‘having fun’, though I will have to collect more data on this matter.”

“It sounds great for me though,” you remarked with a smile as you turned to cleaning around your storage room. 

Over the next few weeks, you saw Shouto much more frequently and hoped spending time with you could further his definition of fun. Most of the time you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, but even common occurrences allowed you to learn more about each other. Your android friend would point out something that was weird to him and you’d either have to stand there realising something you were doing all your life was rather ridiculous or you’d learn about a perspective you’d never considered before.

It had become a frequent occurrence for you to spend your breaks together, the fact that Shouto couldn’t actually eat lunch or share coffee with you, never a problem. Sometimes you would agree to hang out after closing time, doing everything from bowling to visiting museums, as you refreshed old memories while Shouto made new ones. He was also incredibly good at picking up on when you’d stay late, try as you might to avoid it, and waited for you, so he could walk you home. Needless to say, it made you feel a lot safer.

One afternoon, you spent your lunch break showing him how he could get stray cats to approach him after he rather sullenly confessed to you they weren’t too fond of him. You had him copy the way you crouched down and held your hand out while coaxing them towards you with little pspsps noises. And while the little tabby fur ball seemed a little taken aback by Shouto’s lack of warmth at first, it soon decided it wasn't an issue as lithe fingers scratched in just the right places. Shouto’s face as the tiny thing started pressing up against his palm while purring up a storm was as adorable as the cat by his feet. The emotional turmoil he seemed to be in when he had to get up while the tabby was soundly asleep in his lap had you stifling a laugh.

Other times he seemed to enjoy hanging around your shop, helping around here or there, even if you told him he really didn’t need to. You could tell he was interested in the reasons why people bought flowers, how they went about choosing them and how it affected their mood. Well, it wasn’t as if he was the only one doing the studying.

On more than one occasion you could hear customers gush about the handsome guy watering the plants with serious dedication or catch someone checking out more than just their purchase. You couldn’t deny that it was good for business but it planted a seed of irritation in your stomach that bloomed a little further with each hushed word and stolen glance. 

Then again, could you really blame them?

You knew Shouto was ridiculously attractive. Hell, you had eyes after all. And you’d be lying if the low, smooth timbre of his voice didn’t make something flutter in your chest, especially not when he looked at you with those beautiful heterochromic eyes. Even though enough time should have passed, you were still thinking about how his palm had warmed up in yours or how soft his hair had felt when you swept his bangs aside. 

“Are you alright?” Shouto was looking at you with concern, gaze switching between your eyes as if searching for any discomfort. Only then did you realise you had been sighing out loud.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you deflected, going back to rearranging the flower display in the centre of the shop. With the store empty except for the two of you, you could talk freely. “What’s up? I can tell there’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue.”

“So earlier a woman came in asking for a bouquet conveying different sentiments,” Shouto started as he took the flower arrangement you handed him. “I didn’t know you flowers could convey specific feelings without a card or conversation.”

“Well, in my personal opinion, flowers can convey a whole lot of things, though very subtly. From the context in which they’re given -gratitude, condolences, affection- to thoughtfully choosing someone’s favourite species or colour, it all means something,” you voiced your thoughts. “But aside from that, there’s also flower language, with every species and colours representing things like love, happiness, luck.”

“My data bank encompasses over 200 spoken languages and equally as many coding languages, however it doesn’t list any flower languages,” Shouto blinked slowly, iris flickering as he no doubt ran some kind of check. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it anyway and interpretations vary a lot,” you mused, patting his shoulder as you walked past him. “As someone who works in the industry, I think the act of giving someone flowers in the first place means more than any kind of attributed meaning. Though I can see why people would think it’s a fun thing to play around with.”

“I see, thanks for the insight.” 

Spending so much time with Shouto, who prioritised learning over everything had reawakened a spark of curiosity in yourself as well, you had noticed. In the past, you had often put off learning something new for when you had more free time, only for that moment to never come. But seeing how dedicated and unafraid he was to ask about whatever he didn’t understand, it was pretty admirable. His progress was amazing too. Sure, his intonation was still flatter than most people’s but his sentences had taken on a more natural structure over the course of only a few weeks of conversing. Gone were the days of inspected thumbs, sadly enough, however, his delivery of a joke was equally precious.

In spite of your established rhythm of hanging out, there came a week in which you rarely saw him. You understood of course that sometimes other matters took priority, but you reasoned that you were still allowed to be a little saddened by it. So, naturally, your eyes lit up when you returned from restocking your storage to find Shouto perusing the shelves of cut flowers. Given that it was near closing time, it was once again only you two and there was no need for pretences or professionalism. Which was exactly why you snuck up behind him before quickly gripping his shoulders.

“Boo!” You exclaimed with a giggle, only to find Shouto still completely calm as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh c’mon, it’s no fun if you don’t react at least a little.”

“Ah. My nonexistent heart,” Shouto replied flatly, still as serene as he brought a hand up to his chest. 

“Oh, shut up,” you grinned, giving him a little push against the chest that moved him exactly zero centimetres. Picking up a few fallen leaves from the displays, you continued tidying up for the day. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while. If you give me a few minutes, we could catch up over dinner, if you’re free, of course.”

“Actually, I’m here because of something else,” Shouto interjected and he fiddled with his hands ever so slightly. It made you halt in your steps immediately. You were well aware that he normally wasn’t the type to hesitate, so it had you immediately asking what was wrong. “I was wondering if you could help me bind a bouquet.”

“I- Yeah, sure,” you blinked, needing a second to recalibrate. Going back into work mode, you walked him through the usual process, asking what kind of flowers he had in mind, offering to help him choose. However, Shouto seemed to have a pretty clear vision of what he wanted and, to your surprise, picked all your favourite flowers, which you commented on with a chuckle. As you returned to the counter to actually bind the thing, you couldn’t help but finally ask what had been on your mind since his request. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“As you know, I’ve been gathering some data on why people gift flowers, and while birthdays and other celebrations are also popular, the custom of bouquets as part of courting rituals has prevailed until today,” Shouto explained and something about it made your nerves flare up like someone was strumming a guitar string. “While looking into the topic further, I’ve realised something about my own feelings.”

“Oh? Are you going to ask someone out?” You clarified as you wrapped the flowers in matching paper with practised motions. 

“Yes.” Your hand slipped while cutting the ribbon’s length as your heart lurched forward. 

Cursing yourself in equal measures for both, you regained your metaphorical footing and finished the bouquet, hoping your hands did not betray how shaken you felt inside as you handed the wrapped stems to him. “I’m happy for you. Oh and don’t even think about paying, just treat it as compensation for all the help you’ve recently been.”

At this point, lying to yourself wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Hearing Shouto was planning  to ask someone out shot a pang straight to your heart, and not the good, fun kind. Well, it wasn’t surprising someone else would pick up on how attentive Shouto could be, so you could only blame yourself for not shooting your shot when you could. Then again, you hadn’t even been sure he’d be receptive to your feelings and you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had built. At least you knew now why you hadn’t seen him as much lately.

You were snapped out of your derailing train of thought as the same bouquet you had just bound reappeared in your vision. Blinking at it in a stupor for a few seconds, your gaze wandered up to Shouto’s face. The sinking sun was shining its last rays through the store front, casting the room in gold and framing his head like a halo. Between his criminally good looks and the expectant eyes glimmering down at you, you forgot what you wanted to say for a second, your lips parting with no sound escaping them.

“Is something wrong with the bouquet?” You finally managed to ask, somewhat breathless as your heart hammered from the way he looked at you. As if it had taken admitting your feelings to yourself for your body to display the signs of your crush, whatever had taken root in your stomach was coming into full bloom at exactly that moment. 

“Not at all,” Shouto replied, before tilting his head, expression still as expectant while the flowers bridged the space between you. “Well, are you going to accept them? It’s  okay if you don’t.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, you are the person I wish to court, after all,” he said, as if that had been clear from the beginning. Before your brain had fully caught up to the situation at hand, your fingers were already wrapping around the bouquet, brushing Shouto’s in the process.

“I didn’t think you meant me,” you stammered, all attempts of collecting yourself thrown to the wind and just accepting the fact you were unprepared. “In my defence, this is the first time someone gave me a bouquet that I made.”

“Well, you are the best florist I know and I wanted to give you the most beautiful bouquet.”

“So, that’s why you chose all my favourites,” you trailed off, feeling tears well up along your lower lash line, whether from joy or relief you couldn’t quite say.

“I made a note of it every time you mentioned them, as well as your favourite colours,” Shouto added and his thoughtfulness coaxed the first tear to quietly slip down your cheek, which he of course noticed before you could wipe it away. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not– I’m not sad, quite the opposite, really. I couldn’t be happier actually,” you quickly cleared up. “Let me state the obvious: I like you, Shouto.”

“That’s good, because I like you, too.” As always, he didn’t fail at making a smile tug at your lips. “I first noticed something was different when I started spending more time with you. The more I was around you, the more of my processing capacity was occupied by thoughts of you. Actually, even when I wasn’t around you. When the performance of my internal cooling system gradually rose, I ran more than one diagnosis only to find that everything was totally normal on the hardware side. 

“I started piecing everything together when I looked into dating customs in relation to flowers and then started learning about dating as a whole.” There was such softness to both his eyes and voice, it captivated you entirely. “When I read about how people feel when they like someone or when they’re falling in love, it made me realise that, when I’m talking to you, it’s like I’m running a completely different code for conversations. One that I use for nobody else and the responses of which all point to one conclusion. You’re special to me.”

There was so much you wanted to say as your cheeks heated from more than just the sun, but your thoughts all tangled together and you couldn’t get a hold of a coherent one. So instead you placed the bouquet you were still holding on the counter as you rounded it. Basically throwing yourself at him, Shouto still caught you easily as your arms looped around him in a tight embrace, which he gladly returned.  His frame was solid against you, allowing you to lean into him as much as you liked, while his hold on you spoke of such tenderness, it made you feel right at home.

“Being able to hold you like this, I’m sure I made the right choice,” Shouto continued before you could sort out your own piece. “I was hesitating again but then I remembered what a wise person once told me. It’s normal to be afraid of rejection and you can never say for certain what someone feels. But at some point you have to muster the courage and trust them.”

“That wise person would do well to take their own advice, if you ask me,” you snorted, turning your head so you could look at him from your position. “Because I know someone who was afraid of rejection and almost let something good pass them by because of it.”

“But it didn’t,” Shouto found one of your hands as he stepped just far enough away from you so he could properly take you in, his other hand gently cupping your jaw and tracing your cheekbone with his thumb almost reverently. “All that matters now is that you’re equally affected by me as I am by you.”

“I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about that.” Leaning in, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and linked your fingers with his. “Now, to answer my earlier question. Are you free for dinner right now?”

“For you? Always,” he smiled, returning the kiss to your temple, the synthetic material as soft as it always looked. “Maybe we could go to your place and watch that movie you were gushing to me about.”

“Taking me home on the first date? Scandalous,” you giggled. Winking at him you led him out of the shop. “But since it’s you I’ll allow it.”

“Technically, you are the one taking me home,” Shouto pointed out, the same tone of mischief tinting his voice as you grinned at each other. 

The sun set behind the buildings of the city as the two of you walked the streets hand in hand, discussing whatever came to mind, from what you should make for dinner tonight to your expectations for the movie and to the last album from your favourite band. Shouto listened to all of it with a smile and added his commentary here and there, all the while running warmer than an android of his model should. Then again, he supposed he liked how warm his left hand felt compared to the right one swinging freely by his side. 

In the corner of his vision, the small circle had finally stopped turning and was replaced with an equally unseeming, yet all the more important, notification. 

File Updated: Falling in Love

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The Mile High Club

Jennifer Barkley x reader

When flying back to Washington, DC with your boss, Jennifer Barkley, she comes up with an interesting way to relax when there's some turbulence

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: fingering, semi-public sex

“Ugh, why are there so many people here?” your boss, Jennifer Barkley, scoffs when the driver drops you off at the Indianapolis airport. 

After spending the last six weeks in Pawnee, Indiana on Bobby Newport’s campaign for city counsel, you and her are finally getting to go home back to Washington, DC. It’s been the first time in her career that she’s lost a campaign, but even she has to admit that Leslie Knope and Ben Wyatt did a really good job. 

It was the most engaged in a campaign you’ve ever seen Jen, the most challenged, and you’ve been working with her for about a year now. It was exciting to watch her strategize like this, hot even. You’ve always had a thing for powerful, older women, and that was the definition of Jen Barkley. She oozes confidence and she’s not afraid of how good at her job she is. 

The two of you have a pretty good relationship — you’re actually the longest assistant she’s ever had, so clearly you’re doing something right. The easy banter between you is one of your favorite parts of the job. 

You glance at her as you take her suitcase out of the trunk and then yours, putting them on the ground and groaning with the effort. She’s wearing a navy blue blazer over a striped pink and gray button-down, with a gray pencil skirt, her signature string of pearls around her neck. Her brown hair is perfectly fluffed and curly, with makeup accentuating her lips and eyes. She looks good. 

“Well, I offered for us to fly out of the Pawnee airport, but you said, and I quote, ‘I don’t trust Pawnee to have planes that aren’t just tiny steel death in the sky—’”

“‘— that will fall apart if you breathe too loudly,’” Jen finishes with a chuckle at her own joke at the small town’s expense. She’s been making a lot of them the entire trip. “Yeah, I remember. I just still can’t believe the private jet had routine maintenance scheduled for today and now we have to fly with them. God, if only Knope and Wyatt hadn’t insisted on that recount.” 

By “them,” you know she means normal people who don’t run congressional campaigns for some of the most powerful people in the country and don’t just have access to private transportation whenever they want it. 

And without the recount, Jen and you would’ve been done a few days earlier. You still remember her little meltdown where she collapsed on the table, whining about wanting to leave, and it brings a smile to your lips. 

You roll your eyes fondly and grab both of the handles of the suitcase. “Well, we’re still in first class, so you won’t have to sit with all the peasants,” you tease. 

Jen points at you and moves her finger back and forth for emphasis. “That…that was a good one,” she decides and you can’t help but feel warm with her approval. And then she swats at your hand that is holding onto her bag. “I can wheel my own suitcase, sweetheart.” 

You mutter a half-hearted apology and follow her through the doors of the airport and go to the counter to check your luggage. Jen starts digging through her purse and you raise an eyebrow and wait for her to ask you for something. 

It’s always fun to watch your boss go as long as she can without willingly asking for help, even if you have exactly what she needs. Her tenacity and stubbornness often go hand-in-hand. 

She huffs exasperatedly before looking up and giving you a prize-winning smile. “Honey, do you happen to know where I put my—”

You reach into your pocket and pull out her boarding pass, reaching it out with a smirk. 

“Thanks, doll,” she says and snatches it from you before examining it like you may have given her the wrong one. You always keep an extra copy of all her documents on you at all times, just in case situations like this ever arise. “God, I cannot wait to be home and not sleep in sheets that smell like mothballs.” 

Giggling despite yourself, you think back to the small motel rooms the two of you had to sleep in. “It wasn’t all bad. JJ’s Diner was pretty cute.” 

“Yeah, after I bought them that cappuccino maker,” she retorts. “Everyone there was a moron. Did you know one of them told me they voted for Leslie because I said she was a dog murderer? Another thought I was Bobby’s sister. As if he and I could possibly share any of the same genes. Did you see him try to sound out ‘Connecticut’?”

It makes you snort. People in Pawnee were surely not the brightest. 

“I almost pity Leslie,” she sighs as the two of you move up in line. “You could not pay me enough money to trade places with her. I love my life way too much.” 

You laugh. “That’s good to hear, because I need someone to boss me around.” It’s meant to be a light quip, but there’s no mistaking the innuendo and Jen smirks before looking you up and down. You’re wearing leggings and an oversized T-shirt — nothing special, especially compared to her. But you’d rather be comfortable for the flight, rather than look as professional as you usually do. 

“Don’t worry, hon. I’d bring you with me,” she reassures with a wink and your cheeks heat up, breath catching in your throat. She’s just being nice, you think. You are a good assistant. 

After you check your bags, you walk to the gate with Jen next to you, typing something one-handed on her phone and occasionally bumping into you. Boarding is in about thirty minutes, so you tell Jen you’re going to get something to eat. You end up choosing a soft-serve stand and get her a cup too. 

When you get back to her, she’s now reading a newspaper that she must have bought, and doesn’t look up at you until your arm starts to get tired holding out her ice cream. 

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” she purrs and takes it from you, ignoring the spoon and just licking a stripe straight through the swirl. Your eyes widen — you feel a tug in your stomach and you rush to sit down next to her and think about anything else. 

You busy yourself by scrolling on your phone until it’s time to board, and then you settle into your seat in first class next to Jen. You’ve only flown first class a few times, but you’re not sure you could ever go back to sitting in economy. Your seats are spacious and luxurious, with fancy screens in the backs of the chairs in front of you. There’s an armrest between you and your boss, with a piece that could slide up to separate you, but you make no moves toward it and neither does Jen. 

The flight attendant comes around and gets your drink orders, a coffee for Jen and a hot chocolate for you. She snorts when your drink comes back with a mound of whipped cream and you take a long sip, appreciatively humming when the warmth spreads through your body. 

“Oh, honey, you’ve got a little—” Jen says when you turn to look at her, and you scrunch your eyebrows before she cups your chin and swipes her thumb across your upper lip. 

You freeze and your heart rate spikes. 

When she pulls her hand back, there’s a smear of whipped cream on her thumb. She smirks before sucking it into her mouth, never breaking eye contact. You feel your body get warm and you shiver. 

“Are you cold?” she asks. Before you can tell her that you’re fine, she’s waved the flight attendant over and asked for a blanket. It’s touching to have this badass woman you’re always chasing after trying to take care of you. 

The stewardess brings a heated blanket over and Jen helps you tuck it around yourself despite you muttering that you’re really okay. 

And then the safety video plays on the screen and the plane takes off. You’ve never been great with flying and you try to distract your anxious mind with a movie. 

It works until the plane starts to shake. Your hands fly to the armrests and dig your fingers into them as if that will steady it. It doesn’t; if anything, it just gets worse and a small whimper escapes your lips. 

Jen, who is reading a different newspaper now, glances over at you and must see the panic evident on your face, because she lays a hand on top of yours. “Are you okay?” There’s an uncharacteristic gentleness to her voice and you wonder if she’s going soft from the exhaustion of having been in Pawnee for six weeks.  

“Yeah,” you say through clenched teeth. There’s another rough patch and the plane dips and you sharply inhale. You expect her to laugh, maybe make fun of you, but her eyes are understanding and she starts to stroke her fingers up and down your forearm. 

Is she trying to comfort you? You swallow roughly as her warmth seeps through your skin. “It’s okay,” she coos. “It’s going to be fine.” 

You nod and try to repeat the words to yourself until you believe them, but the plane shakes again and you shudder. “Oh, god,” you whisper, feeling a little sick. Jen is frowning next to you and closes the little cabin door on the aisle, essentially hiding the two of you from view of anyone else. 

“Just breathe. Try to relax, honey,” she says soothingly, and then apparently decides she’s being too nice, because she tosses her hair over her shoulder and huffs haughtily. “Don’t let a bit of wind scare you. There’s so many other things to be more afraid of. Like me, if you don’t relax.” 

It makes you smile a little and your muscles loosen ever so slightly. The turbulence stops and you’re able to breathe normally. 

Seemingly satisfied, Jen turns back to her newspaper and removes her hand off your arm. You miss her touch, but brush it off and start scrolling through the screen to find a movie to watch. 

The plane starts to shake violently and a terrified gasp slips out of your lips, hands scrambling for purchase and your legs tensing against the seat in front of you. This is it. 

You can practically hear Jen roll her eyes and she gives you a pointed look. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, breathing heavily. “How are you so calm?” 

Jen shrugs. “I’m exceptional,” she states matter-of-factly. Her fingers reach over to lay on your forearm again and you’re able to feel yourself relax. Just slightly, but she feels it too. “Is that helping?” she murmurs. 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she smirks. 

Her fingers trail up your arm and then back down, and slide into your lap and ghost over your thigh. All the air leaves your lungs. “Do you want some more help?” 

Surely she can’t be offering what you think she is. But there’s not a single hint of jest on her face with her eyebrow arched and her pupils blown out. “Jen—” you swallow, your mouth suddenly so dry. 

“You can say no,” she reminds you. She lifts her hand off the blanket and hovers over it, showing that she’ll accept whatever you say. 

But you couldn’t even dream of rejecting her. “Please,” you say, voice suddenly full of heat, and your boss looks absolutely overjoyed. 

She drags part of the bunched up blanket covering the lower half of your body over herself, so if anyone were to look over the top of the cabin when she sneaks a hand under the cover and rests it on your leg, they wouldn’t be able to see. 

The plane rocks and dips, but you couldn’t care less because Jen has just dipped into the waistband of your leggings, her cold hands making you hiss. 

“Why don’t you put on a movie?” she suggests, her hand moving lower and cupping you over your underwear. You can feel yourself starting to get wet and you nod, tapping on the screen and clicking on the first thing it opens to. The film starts, but Jen’s fingers have found your clit and you can think of very little else. 

She rubs around it for a bit, teasing and feeling the crotch of your panties grow wetter while you squirm and try to get more stimulation. 

“You got to stop being so obvious, honey,” she whispers, ducking her head down to scrape her teeth against the top of your ear before nibbling on your lobe. You can’t stop the small moan that escapes you and she presses down on your clit. “Do you want the flight attendants to come over and see what a slut you’re being?” 

Heat tears through your body and you clench around nothing. You’d like to point out that this was all her idea, but you don’t want to risk her pulling away to teach you a lesson for talking back, which is exactly what Jennifer Barkley would do. 

So you shake your head and try to act like you’re watching the movie, but your eyes keep straying down to the blanket. 

She tuts lowly in your ear before sliding your underwear to the side and you jump when her fingers trace through your folds. “God, you like this a lot, don’t you,” she observes, amusement leaking into her voice. You blush and nod, softly whimpering when she teases your clit without touching it. 

“Jen, please, I need you,” you whine, and she chuckles humorlessly before pushing a finger inside you. She’s met with absolutely no resistance, and your walls bear down around her immediately, drawing a small gasp from her mouth. You’re vaguely aware of the sound of the drink cart coming down the aisle. 

She doesn’t move at first, just enjoying the feeling of you being around her, and it isn’t until you choke out another plea that she starts to slowly withdraw and then thrust back in. 

The flight attendant comes into view over the cabin walls and by the looks of it, she’s about two rows ahead of you. Your head tilts toward Jen, who is already watching you, a wicked glint in her eye. Her thumb expertly rubs at your clit while her one finger fucks you at a leisurely pace. It’s not enough to get you there, but the possibility of being caught and the way Jen’s eyes are burning into your face, watching every little twitch, are helping build the tension in your stomach. 

The stewardess stops at the row in front of yours and if she looked to her right just a little, she would see your knuckles straining as your fingers grip the armrests to try and stop yourself from reacting. 

“Better behave, honey,” Jen whispers dangerously, tongue flicking out against your earlobe. It makes you shiver and clench around her finger. “Don’t want her to know how naughty you’re being right now.” 

She smirks at your muffled whimper and finally gives your clit the direct stimulation you’ve been looking for and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any other noises from crawling out. 

The flight attendant pushes the cart forward and pauses, looking at you and Jen over the cabin door with a warm smile. Jen pulls her finger out of you and you bite your lip at the sudden emptiness. 

“Hi ladies, can I get you anything else?” she asks, looking at Jen first. 

“Oh, I’m perfect, thank you,” Jen gushes, and then turns to you. You can feel both Jen and the flight attendant’s eyes on you. 

You nod in agreement and open your mouth to answer, but Jen chooses that exact moment to shove two fingers inside you, and you’ve never heard the sound that comes out of you before. You see her stifle a laugh in your peripheral vision and you plaster what you hope is a convincing smile onto your face, but probably looks more like a grimace. “I’m good,” you squeak. 

Jen’s fingers curl roughly and your hips jolt. 

The flight attendant looks like she wants to say something, but purses her lips tightly and moves on. The second she’s out of earshot, Jen laughs cruelly in your ear. “That was close, honey,” she mocks and scissors her fingers to stretch you out and you hiss. “Do you think she knows that you’re taking my fingers like such a good slut? That this was the only way I could get you to relax?” 

She presses her thumb against your clit and starts to thrust into you fast and you have to bite down on your hand to keep from crying out. The pleasure starts to spread from your pussy to your stomach to all over and you feel your orgasm building. 

“Jen, I — please, fuck,” you groan when she twists her fingers. Your hands are scrambling for purchase on the armrests, hips rolling as much as they can, and you can feel your head start to spin. 

“God, hon, your cunt feels so good around me,” she says conversationally and your head falls back against the seat, clenching violently. “So warm, so wet. Think I might have you ride my fingers while I have to sit in all those boring meetings.” 

Your whimper is one of a wounded animal and she grins, flashing her perfect teeth at you. It turns you on even more, how perfectly composed she is, while you’re a fucking mess in the chair next to her, a few miles above the ground, in a plane where you could get caught at any moment. 

“Please, I’m so close,” you beg quietly, one of your hands clasping onto hers over the blanket. You can feel her muscles move as she thrusts into you and you gasp, heat searing through you. 

Jen leans over and nudges your head to the side with her own before sucking on your neck. You keen softly and your chest rises and falls rapidly, your orgasm steadily approaching. 

You slouch down even further in your seat so that her fingers can reach deeper inside you and it makes your eyes roll back in your head. “So good,” you whisper and Jen huffs in agreement. 

Her thumb speeds up on your clit and her fingers hits the spot that makes sparks erupt in your cunt each time and you’re so fucking close —

“Cum for me, honey,” she rasps, and it’s strangely what makes you finally cum isn’t the way her fingers curl particularly deliciously when your hips meet her thrust perfectly, it’s not the way her thumb presses harder on your clit when she circles it again, it’s not the way her tongue draws a hot stripe up your throat — it’s the flustered, pink tint in her cheeks and her slightly uneven breathing and the way her eyes dart from yours down to your lips and then back up. 

It’s knowing that she’s affected by you falling apart for her: that's the final nail in the coffin, and your pussy walls spasm around her fingers, pleasure erupting through your trembling body while you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out. 

She fucks you through your orgasm, whispering what a good girl you are, and you finally slump back into your chair, feeling ruined and much more relaxed. 

“Did that help?” Jen asks, wearing a playful smirk. 

You laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of her question. Of course it fucking helped. “Yeah, I’d say so.” And you’d like nothing more than to kiss the smug look right off her face. 

The pilot comes on the intercom and announces that you’ll soon be starting your departure into DC and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you,” you say, for getting you through your anxiety and fear about the turbulence, and for fucking you. Something you’ve been wanting since you started working for her. 

Jen knows exactly what you mean and she presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “Anytime.” 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

[two-white-butterflies]

love by listening | daemon targaryen

Description: Daemon Targaryen goes rogue after his wedding to Lady Rhea Royce, unwilling to consummate the marriage. He finds peace in a Dornish tavern. You meet him in said tavern, and quickly become close friends. You share an adventure. Both unaware that the other person is nobility.

graphics from @saradika-graphics

Pairing: princess of dorne!reader/daemon targaryen

Warning: brief making love (not sex, making love)

A/N: I wanted it to give Dunk and Egg vibes. Reader is bubbly and talkative/has her own ambitions. She does what she wants bcs she's all about that high life. Set in Dorne + young daemon targaryen. open ending.

Daemon didn't believe in gods. He doesn't care about the punishment he'll be given after this. A few hours ago, he was forced to go through the wedding with Lady Rhea Royce. In his opinion, she was not an attractive bride. She was lucky to have come from nobility for she had a basic peasant bitch face.

Despite her odd looks, benevolent Daemon still went through with the marriage. He held his tongue, wanted to make his brother proud - but then they started talking about the bedding ceremony, and Daemon knew that he had to get the hell away from there.

Where did that bring him?

To Caraxes, to flying towards Dorne - and drinking inside of a tavern.

"It's the first time I've seen a foreigner in these parts." your voice breaks him free from his thoughts. He was about to swat you away, but a single look at your face changed his mind.

Beautiful.

There were a lot of pretty maidens in Dorne - but you were one of the most beautiful ones so far. "I did not bring any gold." he warned, under the impression that you were a whore. "Gods, I have no intention of fucking you." you lied, quickly sitting beside him.

"The first time I saw a cock. It was disgusting. I actually vowed to only fuck women after that." you smiled at the memory. Reaching for his ale, and taking a drink of it. "- I suppose I never upheld that promise. Women are beautiful but we are too wet for my taste. Men are just lovely and dry, and they are easier to toy with." you giggle.

He could smell the alcohol on your breath.

You were the first maiden he's seen to speak in that manner. He wonders if the maidens back home are like this too, if it weren't for archaic beliefs silencing their true thoughts. Dorne was a magical fucking place. It was how the rest of the six kingdoms needed to be.

"Why are you talking to me?" he asks, his face stoic just in case you had some tricks up your sleeve.

"Well, you are alone." you pointed out. "- and I am alone. Shouldn't two vagabonds protect each other?" you tilted your head.

"What makes you think that I am alone?" he inquires.

"I've been watching you for quite some time now, love. Are you going to give me your name?" you asked in return, continuing to stare deep into his purple eyes - drawing him closer like a siren to the waves. "I'd like to remain an enigma." he answers, matching your mysteriousness.

He finds himself hypnotized by your eyes. Eyes that were lined with kohl. "I won't share my name too, to be fair." you smiled, and now his attention was drawn towards your lips. Stained red with rouge.

The tension between you was palpable. He felt like a moth to a flame. Allured by this beautiful fire. Leaving only one question in his head: will he burn? Fire cannot harm a dragon. He reminds.

His hands reached for the small of your waist. A sudden boldness. He plays with the textured embroidery of your tunic. Pulling you closer to his body, until you were almost sitting on his lap.

"What will I call you?" he frowned, teasing you.

"Think of something witty." you insisted, fingers dancing along the details of his clothed tunic.

"Gevives, then." he settles on a suitable name. "I am relieved that you find me beautiful, love." you laugh, hands trailing upwards to his collar - pulling him closer until your lips were bridged together.

He melts into the kiss, hands firmly wrapped around your waist. He'd be so easy to poison. But alas, you weren't here to kill him.

He presses you against your bed - the first time he's felt lust in a while. If this was going to be a one-time thing, then he'll be thinking about you until the day he died. He's already placed this encounter in his three best fucks. The way that you looked beneath him, he can almost see himself thirty years later still jerking off to you.

You are fucking beautiful.

Naked - and vulnerable against him.

His hands danced along the curve of your waist, delighted at the smoothness of your skin. You reach for his face, cupping his cheek tenderly - staring at him with fascination. "You are so beautiful, like an illusion." you whispered in a voice that makes him want to sleep.

He positions his member at the entrance of your core.

"So good," you cooed - feeling him begin to thrust. You continued staring at each other, that connection remained unbreakable. "Keep going," you whispered, he couldn't help but smile. So talkative, even when making sweet love. "Gevie," he smiles.

Daemon wakes up to the feeling of light on his exposed skin. He lets out a yawn, rubbing his eyes so it adjusts to the brightness of the room quicker. He takes a deep breath - as he remembers what happened last night.

Last night, he fucked a goddess.

He turns to look at your sleeping form.

Beautiful even when sleeping, he thought.

He was thankful that he commanded Caraxes to return to the Red Keep.

He had no responsibility. None but you.

"Good morrow," you greeted, voice still hoarse from last night. "Good morrow," he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist. This type of touch was foreign to him. He's never wrapped his arms around someone after making love.

It felt domestic. Like how marriage was supposed to be.

"I suppose this is where our paths diverge." he says, unwilling to sound needy. But in actuality, he never wants to leave. He wants to stay like this forever. Inside of an inn, with his arms wrapped around the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Not so soon. I think we should still walk together." you hum, pulling him closer to your body until he was laying on your chest.

"I've made the observation that you have a lot of time on your hands." you breathed, his ears pressed against your chest - listening to your heartbeat.

"Your observation is correct." he confirms.

He had the face of a dangerous man. It was a risk to be in a stranger's company, but your heart told you that he could be trusted. He felt like you - exactly like you.

You kept staring at his body. His toned muscles and broad shoulder. "Are you a knight?" you asked, reminded of the tourney in Starfall.

"I am," he answers truthfully, praying that it was something that you liked about men.

"There is a tournament in Starfall. The prize is a dragon egg." you informed, mind already focused towards the next adventure.

"I shall win a dragon egg for you, then." he announces. He finds no harm in having a little adventure with a maiden. He has won all the tourneys he's attended, after all. "Really? I wanted to steal it." you say.

He responds with a chuckle, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. How dare you steal his heart. "Why steal it when you can have it fair and square?" he asked teasingly.

You continued staring at his face, a look that was indescribable. "I like the sound of that," you smile - pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Ashara's lips pressed into a thin line. "What god has possessed you to bring a man inside of Starfall?" she scolded, leading you and Daemon towards a secluded part of the tourney. "He is my paramour." you announce, your grip remains firm on his hand.

"Your father will kill him." she says plainly. "- a Targaryen bastard, a scandal waiting to emerge." she scoffs.

Daemon's expression softens, quickly turning into amusement.

Do they all believe me to be a bastard? Apologies, I am legitimate, he thinks, but he decides to bite those words back, lest he be sent back to the Red Keep.

"I did not come here as my father's daughter. I came here under a disguise." you reminded, pulling the grey hood up until it was hiding your face. "You shouldn't have come here, anyways. You'll get me into trouble with mine own father." she glared at you.

"I'm sorry Ashara but we won't be bothering you. We merely want to join the tourney and win the dragon-egg." you say out loud, but she silences you with a finger to your lips.

"The prize remains a mystery to those in the audience. Only the competitors truly know. The Targaryens will be furious, we will be answered with fire and blood." Ashara reminds and you nod silently.

"- I'm sorry, I'll stay out of your way. I promise. Now, can you please lead us to the tents?" you ask and the other woman nods, pointing at the white tents in the far distance.

"Thank you," you smile politely - still holding his hand and dragging him to the direction of the other knights.

You paid a squire a decent amount of money to use their armor. Daemon was quick to wear it, but he still missed his sword. The Dark Sister, previously wielded by Queen Visenya. "I've never fought against this much Dornish men before." he breathes.

He had his experience fighting a few of them. They were good warriors, though not good enough to defeat him. "We fight like rattlesnakes, that's what my father always says." you say, placing the last piece of his armor on his body.

"You haven't been here for that long, huh?" you made another observation, and he nods. Though he still keeps his identity a secret.

"I grew up in Kingslanding. My mother died giving birth, and my father died of a burst belly." he chuckles - laughing his sorrows away.

"Prince Baelon is your father." you say with certainty, piecing the information together. "- he would've made a wonderful King." you add, basing off the stories that your father shared.

"I think it is your turn to speak about your past, gevives. And I've spent enough time around you to understand that you aren't lowborn." he urges while adjusting his straps.

"How did you come to that understanding?" you inquired, curious of his way of thinking.

His hands danced along your exposed arm.

"Your skin is smooth like silk." he says, like he was praying. His hands trailed upwards, until his fingers were on your chin. "- and you take good care of your beauty." he finishes - and he stops touching you.

"My father is a nobleman. I am his youngest child, the only daughter after six boys. Which means that I've been exposed to leeches using me ever since I was born. I ran away from them. I can't trust anyone, but I think I can trust you." you reveal pieces of your past to him, unwilling to give him the full information.

He was the first person that called you beautiful without knowledge of your vast fortune. And now he was here, promising to win a tourney just so you'd see a dragon-egg for the first time.

"Six brothers, like the princess of dorne." he teases.

"Mhm," you hummed - freezing.

"Ser, get ready." a squire peeks his head through the tent. Daemon stands up, and offers his hand for you take - helping you stand up.

"Thank you," you smile, regaining your composure.

"I promise to win, my lady." he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

Daemon won the tourney with ease, any knight that dared to fight against him didn't even last five minutes. All of his fights ended the same. He'd strike them down, the opponent would be on the ground and Daemon would only look to the next competitor.

You continued watching him.

Observing every little thing that he's doing. It was evident that there was a piece of the puzzle that you haven't solved yet. A knight as skilled as him should be renowned, and yet the only information you have on him - is that he is the bastard son of Prince Baelon.

He was an interesting mystery.

"The winner of our tourney, Ser..." Ashara rises, only beginning to realize that none of them knew the name of this skilled knight. Your best friend turns to look at you, but you answer with a shrug. It was a little game between you and Daemon - neither one knowing that the other one's real name is.

"Ser Daemon," he opened his mouth - meeting your gaze.

He added the last piece of the puzzle, and your face was struck with eureka. Prince Daemon Targaryen, you thought immediately. "Congratulations, Ser Daemon. Please claim your prize behind the tents." Ashara nodded.

"The audience was complaining, the tourney wasn't entertaining for them." you open the conversation, stepping foot inside of the tent. "I suppose it isn't entertaining when only one person wins." you smirk.

He holds the dragon-egg in his hands. "I promised that I'd win." he answers, patting the empty space beside him. "Here's your dragon-egg, my lady." he chuckles. You gladly sit beside him, laying your head on his shoulder and marveling at the beauty of the egg.

"You are Prince Daemon Targaryen." you announced, confirming your previous suspicions. "I am," he finds himself unable to lie.

"- I think it is only fair that I know your name too, my lady." he adds.

An amused smile paints your lips.

"I am Princess (Your Name) Martell. I can't believe that we meet under these circumstances." you laugh.

A prince and a princess meeting inside of a tavern instead of a castle. Even beginning to fall in love without the pressure of their respective kingdoms. It was something out of a fable.

Daemon reaches for your hand, placing it on top of the dragon-egg. "It is an honor to meet you, my princess." he acknowledges.

[wonhes]

ᝰ. RII7E MEETING YOUR PARENTS !

PAIRING: riize x reader

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: sohee refers to reader as “my girl” once but besides that this could be read as gn!reader :)

𓂃۶ৎ SHOTARO

— guys, i genuinely think and believe shotaro would be so shy throughout the whole interaction. when you first told him about your parents wanting to meet him, he would smile at you and nod his head. he would then kiss your forehead and let you know he's free whenever and for you to just say when and where. but deep down, like super deep deep down, he was nervous. when those words first came out of your lips, shotaro actually screamed internally. but he can't have you know that. and he won’t have you know that!

when the time comes to meet your parents, shotaro changed his outfit like 10 times before finally making his way over to pick you up. you would take notice of his calm composure and you would honestly be so surprised because again, he just seems so calm and collective.... if only you knew. it wasn't until you took notice of the shy smiles he kept offering your parents, the way he would only speak when being spoken to (and even then his responses would be so short), his knee constantly bouncing up and down as he kept taking sips of his water every 3 seconds. that's when you finally realized just how nervous he was. you would then gently place a hand on his thigh and send him a small reassuring smile and instantly, his nerves would calm down and he felt like everything was okay once again. he was okay.

𓂃۶ৎ EUNSEOK

— i feel like eunseok would be just like shotaro but a little worse. like he would actually be tweaking out. let me explain, when you tell him your parents want to meet him, he would nod his head at you and ask you if there was a certain date in mind. he would be so nonchalant about it too. it wouldn't be until the day off that he would start tweaking out. suddenly nothing is fitting right. suddenly his hair isn't styling the way that he wanted it to. suddenly he can't find the shoes he wanted to wear. everything was stressing him out now and it did not help that you had just texted him to let him know you were already ready for him to pick you up. he needed more time!

when he finally meets your parents, he swears his palms are so sweaty and shaky. he internally cringes when he shakes your dad's hand because if he can feel that his own palms being so shaky and sweaty then so can your dad. throughout the night, he would look around the room wondering if it was hot in there or if it was just him. he would constantly lift a hand up to push his hair back. he would also constantly clear his throat and would laugh a little too long at your dad's jokes. when realization finally hits you, you try and place your hand on his thigh to help calm him down. but within seconds, eunseok pushed your hand away from his thigh before eyeing you like if you were crazy. with wide eyes, he would signal you towards the direction of your parents before looking back at you and shaking his head at you in disbelief.

𓂃۶ৎ SUNGCHAN

— guys, he's so :((( so actually he would be the one bringing it up. he was the one who told you he wants to meet your parents and it would take you by complete surprise. it would happen while you two were cuddling on his couch while watching a movie. he would move to place a kiss on your cheek causing you to giggle and turn towards him to place a quick kiss on his lips. he would smile down at you before tugging a loose piece of hair behind your ear. and that's when he would tell you he wants to meet your parents soon. in all honesty, he just wants them to know and see that he truly does love you and is serious about you and your relationship.

when the day to meet your parents approaches, he would be ready hours before. he would pick you up an hour early because he cannot be late! first impressions are everything! you would meet him in your living room, annoyed at him rushing you but when you spot him there with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, you would instantly forgive him. gasping, you would make your way towards him and when you try to take them away from him he would pull them closer to his chest, away from you, while gripping them tighter and letting you know the flowers were for your mom.

the meeting would genuinely go so well. he would try and win your dad over by cracking a few jokes with him and would pay really close attention to what your mom was telling him. this would actually be so so so serious to him! sungchan is locked in!

𓂃۶ৎ WONBIN

— god please don't hate me but i feel like wonbin would be nervous but he would express it more by being awkward. hear me out! like you two would be talking about him meeting your parents and he would be so excited and up for it! yeah, he'll be nervous but it's okay because he wants to meet your parents and wants to take this next step with you. he would send you a shy awkward smile when you two finally figure out a set date but he would just shrug off the thoughts that were spiking up his anxiety.

when you two are on the way to meet your parents, you couldn’t help but take notice on how quiet your boyfriend was being. you try to ask if there was something wrong but he immediately shook his head and gave your nose a small kiss so you shrugged it off. when you finally arrive at your parent's house, you immediately notice how awkward wonbin is being. like everything he's doing is just coming off so unnatural? it’s like if he's overthinking every single movement of his. you simply shrugged it off again but when it’s finally time to eat dinner, your dad asks you something and for some reason wonbin misinterprets the question and believes this is the right time to crack a joke! so he makes a random joke and god, it does not land. instead of being met with laughter, he's met with three pairs of eyes confusedly staring at him. this would cause him to quickly turn a dark shade of red. hiding his face in his hands he would mumble a small, "oh god," causing you to completely lose it. you laughing at him would cause your parents to laugh too. wonbin would then let out a small groan as he blindly moved closer to you to hide his face in your shoulder. poor boy just wanted to fit in!

𓂃۶ৎ SEUNGHAN

— i feel like seunghan would be like sungchan in a way! i think with seunghan, you had both discussed meeting your parents since he brought it up and you had recently met his. i think he would be nervous but he wouldn't show it. he just seems like he would know how to hide it well. so, when you two finally settled on a date, yes he was a tad bit nervous but he would quickly ignore it and shake it off. he wouldn't let his nerves get to his head, he wanted to meet your parents and form a good relationship with them. he was on a mission to impress your parents so they would approve of him and he was not going to let anything ruin that!

when the time came to finally meet, seunghan would be so smooth. making sure to compliment your mom saying cheesy comments like, "oh now i know where yn gets their good looks from." and making sure to comment on your dad's favorite sport or show. seunghan knew what to do and say. and if i’m honest, he was a little too good at it. you would raise your eyebrows at him here and there throughout dinner because he somehow managed to get your parents hooked. your parents loved him and within hours too? oh, someone definitely cooked here.

𓂃۶ৎ SOHEE

— oh my sohee. I think sohee would be very scared. he strikes me as someone who would get very nervous at the simple thought of meeting your parents which would lead to him becoming scared. you would be the one to bring up how your parents wanted to meet him and almost instantly sohee would not know how to function. he would freeze and blankly stare at you, wide eyed. you would try and reassure him and it would work! ... for 5 minutes. he would just be so nervous, not wanting to mess anything up. so many thoughts of what could go wrong would race in his mind. you would constantly have to reassure him and with a bunch of kisses of course! it got to the point where you didn't know if sohee was actually nervous or if he was pretending just for you to keep pampering him.

now, when it came to finally meeting your parents, you actually picked out his outfit. he had tried on a bunch of clothes weeks prior and made you choose the best one. once you both settled on one, he would neatly have it folded, waiting for the, “big day” (his words). and when you two arrived at your parents, sohee could not stop smiling. not like a small sincere smile though, it would just be a big wide forced smile. he would have this big smile and he would laugh at every single little thing, trying to please both your mom and dad. and you know what! it somehow ends up working because your parents grow very fond of him. they think he’s a little odd at first but it’s okay, they welcome him with open arms!

𓂃۶ৎ ANTON

— ah! okay so for anton, i picture him bringing it up to you! your relationship is getting serious and he wants you to meet his parents and vise versa. you would instantly nod and that's when he would offer to meet your parents first. you would smile while nodding your head at him and he would immediately smile back before letting out a shaky sigh while admitting how terrified he actually was. like genuinely, anton is shaking in his boots. you would giggle and reassure him and he would just offer you a small shy smile. gahhh i just think he would be so nervous but so excited. like when you two settled on a date, he would immediately mark it on his calendar. he would also excitedly tell his parents about how he's meeting your parents soon and how he can’t wait for his parents to meet you!

when meeting your parents, anton would be so respectful. he would offer to help out your mom every other second, like not kidding. when you would be done eating, he would pick up your plate for you. but do not get fouled! man is still shaking in his boots. you would realize this because of how he can't sit still. that's why he kept offering to help or he would clean up— because he didn't know what else to do! another thing that would give away his nervousness would be the amount of times he would call your dad, "sir." he called your mom, "ma'am" once and she immediately corrected him and he listened. yet for some reason no matter how many times your dad corrects anton, your boyfriend refuses to call him by his name and continues calling him "sir" in every single sentence. and i mean, every. single. sentence.

ᝰ. BONUS: text messages after the meet up !