#i felt a little silly after i thought about it for more then twenty seconds but oh well

[rmadridcore]

Under the Storm

Pairing: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, you and Aurélien share a moment of intense passion and intimacy, wrapped in each other completely.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: okayy, i’ve been wanting to write for Tchou for a while but i couldn’t find proper inspo. apparently a tiktok edit i saw the other was all i needed 😭 here it is, hope you guys like it! tell me your opinions and also whether i should write for him more 🤍

The rain drummed gently against the windows, a soothing rhythm that filled the room with a sense of calm. The world outside was washed in shades of gray, the kind of weather that begged for blankets and whispered conversations. From the moment you opened your eyes that morning, the gloomy weather made you groan, casting a darker shadow over your mood. Starting the day with such horrific weather was never ideal, but your spirits lifted the moment you realized both you and your boyfriend had a day off. This dreadful rainy day could be transformed into a cozy, intimate one — filled with nothing but lounging around the house and basking in the warmth of your love.

Simple days with Aurélien always felt extra special. He had a way of making even the most mundane activities feel like extraordinary moments. It was his magic, his superpower: the ability to make you feel loved and excited at all times. His presence, his scent, his jokes, his face — everything about him was enough to bring you joy, contentment, and comfort, no matter the setting.

Especially now, as the two of you were sprawled on the couch in your shared home, limbs tangled together, your head resting on his firm chest. His hand moved softly through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. The faint, familiar scent of him filled your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once. You fell asleep and woke up next to him every day, but his scent never failed to make you dizzy. That fresh, woody aroma, it was the smell of home.

Aurélien’s fingers threaded through your hair in a slow, rhythmic motion, while his lips left occasional, tender kisses on your head. The two of you were half-watching a silly movie, but when it ended, neither of you bothered to put on something else. The quiet, comfortable intimacy of the moment was far more captivating.

“You smell so nice,” you murmured, voicing the thought that had been swirling in your mind for a good twenty minutes.

He chuckled softly. “You tell me that almost every day.” His voice held a smile.

“That’s because you smell nice every day,” you replied, nuzzling closer into his chest. He responded with another soft kiss to your head.

“Stay here forever,” he murmured after a moment of silence, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers lazily massaged your scalp.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I actually live here,” you teased, a playful lilt in your tone.

“No, like… forever. Right here. With me,” he said, his voice warm but serious, as though he were pouring his soul into those words.

Your heart melted at his sincerity. “Baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, ever.” You kissed him again, this time on the lips, a quick, tender peck before resting your head back on his chest.

“Keep stroking my hair, or I’m outta here this second,” you warned playfully when he paused for a moment. His soft laugh vibrated against your cheek as he resumed his gentle strokes.

You began placing soft kisses along his jawline, intending to keep things innocent and savor the simplicity of just being close to him. But those soft kisses soon deepened into open-mouthed ones. You tried to stop yourself, wanting to hold onto the moment’s pure comfort a little longer, but the feel of his smooth skin, his intoxicating scent, and the soft, shallow breaths he let out when your lips met his skin made it impossible to pull away.

His hand slid from your hair to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips sought yours. The rain continued its soothing rhythm against the windows, but inside, the room was filled with warmth — the kind of heat that chased away the chill of any gray day.

With his lips finding yours and your hand cupping his gorgeous face, Aurélien slipped his tongue into your mouth, not letting you catch your breath. Your lips moved in perfect sync, an unspoken understanding passing between you both with every kiss. His kisses were always special — warm, consuming, and utterly mesmerizing. The moment his mouth met yours, it was like the world beyond the two of you ceased to exist.

Without warning, he gently laid you back on the couch, his lips never leaving yours. His movements were deliberate but tender, a balance of passion and care that left you breathless. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as though he were committing every inch of your skin to memory. Slowly, he trailed his lips down to your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers coursing through your body. When his mouth reached your collarbone, a soft hum escaped your lips, and he paused to glance at you, his gaze dark and smoldering.

Sliding to his knees in front of the couch, his hand moved to the button of your pants. His fingers worked the fabric open with a deliberate slowness that sent your pulse racing. He lowered the fabric down your legs, his touch lingering, as though savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands.

“I want to make you feel good, angel,” he whispered, his voice sultry and smooth, wrapping around you like silk. Your chest rose and fell quickly, anticipation coiling tightly in your core as you nodded in acknowledgment, unable to find your voice.

Aurélien lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder, his lips brushing feather-light kisses along the other leg until he reached your inner thigh. Each kiss was tender, yet it left a trail of heat in its wake. You couldn’t resist the urge to tug off your top, revealing the delicate lace of your bra. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his lips curling into a cheeky smile before resuming his path.

He kissed the inside of your thighs with a deliberate intent, sucking gently until tiny purple marks bloomed against your skin. The teasing was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips.

“Please, Aurélien,” you pleaded, your voice laced with impatience and longing.

His eyes met yours, a playful glint sparking in them. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please...please.” The words tumbled from your lips, your need overwhelming your usual composure.

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his lips grazing tantalizingly close to where you craved him most. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk at your frustrated sigh.

Finally, his hands hooked around the waistband of your underwear, easing it down and leaving you exposed to him. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against your clit, his tongue curling expertly around the sensitive nub. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your hips bucked instinctively, but his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place. One hand slid up to your stomach, splaying against your skin to steady you as he flattened his tongue against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

“You’re so beautiful. So wet. Is this all for me?” he murmured between strokes, his voice dripping with admiration. You nodded hastily, your breath coming in short gasps as his tongue continued its relentless assault.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as his mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony. He glanced up briefly, his dark eyes locking onto your flushed face before increasing the pace of his fingers. They moved inside you with precision, curling just right to hit the spot that made your back arch and your moans grow louder.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. His words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, amplifying the intensity of your pleasure. He squeezed your hand gently, the reassurance grounding you even as your orgasm built to a peak.

Your body trembled, a shudder rippling through you as your climax overtook you. A deep moan escaped your throat, your head falling back against the couch as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Aurélien stayed with you through every moment, his touch steady and comforting as he helped you ride out your high.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he climbed back up to you, his movements unhurried and tender. He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and cheeks. “It’s okay,” he cooed, his voice gentle and soothing. Your eyes remained closed as you basked in the warmth of his embrace, your heart still racing but your soul utterly at peace.

You mindlessly pulled him closer, burying your face in his neck. The aftermath of your powerful climax left you craving his warmth and gentle reassurances. “Take me upstairs,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of longing. You kissed his neck softly, your hand trailing down his abdomen with deliberate intent.

“Okay, baby. Let’s go upstairs,” Aurélien replied, his tone filled with both tenderness and mischief.

Without wasting a second, you grabbed his hand and stood, leading him eagerly toward the staircase. “Eager girl,” he teased, his smirk evident in his voice as he followed your hurried steps.

“Need you to catch up,” you shot back playfully, glancing over your shoulder as you reached his room. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you silenced him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. It was deep and consuming, leaving no room for argument. Together, your hands found the hem of his sweater, tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. You couldn’t help but admire his sculpted frame, your fingers instinctively trailing down his chest and over his toned abs.

The back of your legs bumped against the bed, and you sank onto it, never breaking contact. Your hands roamed down his body, tugging his sweats and underwear down as he helped you slide them off completely. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, an unspoken urgency shared between you both.

Without hesitation, he joined you on the bed, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve alive under his touch. Your hands clung to his biceps, their strength grounding you, as his body aligned perfectly with yours.

When he shifted slightly, the unmistakable hardness of him brushed against your thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. His lips never left yours as he entered you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sensation drew a moan from deep within you — a sound so raw and vulnerable it felt like you had been holding it in forever.

Aurélien froze for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours. “You’re okay?” he murmured, his voice laced with both concern and desire.

“More than okay,” you whispered, tightening your legs around his waist in response.

Your body instinctively clenched around him, and his reaction was immediate, a low grunt that vibrated through his chest. His fingers gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one drawing out a new wave of pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your temple. “So perfect.”

Every word, every motion, sent you spiraling higher. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to ground yourself as the intensity built. “Aurélien,” you cried out, your voice shaky. “It’s so good. Please, faster.”

He pulled back slightly, his movements quickening as he adjusted the angle. The change sent a new wave of sensation crashing through you, pulling moans from your lips that left him in awe.

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trailed along your neck. “Anything, you only have to ask.”

You hesitated briefly, the vulnerability of the moment making you shy. But the intensity of his gaze gave you the courage to meet his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your hand resting against the nape of his neck. “I want all of you.”

You shifted, lifting yourself slightly, and Aurélien immediately mirrored your movement, his hands steadying you as you turned to face the headboard. Your back arched instinctively, presenting yourself to him. You heard him suck in a deep breath, the sound full of restraint as if he were forcing himself to keep control.

His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs brushing soothingly across your skin in a motion that reassured and electrified you all at once. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. Then, with deliberate care, he guided himself back into you, every inch of him sending shivers through your body as you adjusted to his size. He paused, giving you the time you needed, his fingers tightening just enough on your hips to anchor you.

“Take your time,” he whispered, his tone as soft as his grip was firm.

Your body responded instinctively, stretching and molding to him, until the tension eased and the pleasure began to bloom. He started to move, slow and steady at first, his rhythm purposeful. Each thrust built on the last, filling the room with the intoxicating symphony of your heavy breathing, whispered moans, and the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. His grip on your hips tightened, not with restraint but with a passion so palpable it made your breath hitch.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The way your body responded to him was a constant encouragement, each moan spurring him on. “Such a perfect pussy, made for me.”

The heat of his words sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you couldn’t hold back your response. “I love you,” you moaned, your voice shaky and raw.

His chuckle was dark and teasing, yet full of warmth. “Yeah? How much?” he asked, his voice husky as his hips snapped forward, driving deeper.

“So, so much,” you managed to breathe out, your voice trembling as the coil in your lower belly tightened with each of his perfectly angled thrusts. Your walls fluttered around him, your body responding to him in ways that felt completely out of your control.

Aurélien groaned at the sensation, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You felt yourself spiraling, the tension inside you reaching its breaking point. “Gonna cum,” you gasped, your words barely audible as your chest heaved with shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hand slipping down between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with a pressure that sent you hurtling toward release. The combination of his thrusts and the expert movement of his fingers unraveled you completely. Your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, your body shaking as the most euphoric sensation tore through you.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft but commanding as he lowered himself over you. His lips brushed your ear, and he murmured, “Shhh, that’s it, let it happen. Let me take care of you.”

Your moans dissolved into soft whimpers as the waves of your climax crashed over you. Aurélien slowed his movements, drawing out every ounce of your pleasure as his hands slid soothingly over your back. You felt his rhythm falter, his hips pressing deep one last time as he groaned your name. Heat flooded your core, his release a hot pulse that seemed to blend with your own pleasure, leaving you both utterly spent.

He stayed still for a moment, his breathing uneven as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. Then, with infinite tenderness, he withdrew from you and carefully helped you onto your back. His hands never left you, guiding you gently as though you were made of glass.

“Are you okay, my love?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss to your temple, then your nose, and finally your lips. His touch was feather-light. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips as he peppered soft kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hand, his eyes twinkling with affection.

The tender gesture made you giggle, the sound light and airy, breaking the charged atmosphere with an intimacy that was uniquely yours. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing,” you said through another laugh. “Just…you’re too sweet.”

He grinned, leaning down to press one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Only for you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

He gathered you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. His warmth surrounded you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing as your breathing slowed. As the night stretched on, you felt yourself drifting off, the safety and love in his arms lulling you into peaceful slumber.

[ldy11lc]

is your username meant to spell idyllic i always read it like that lol

yes, it is lol !! i realised AFTER i started posting bots that it would probably make more sense if the i’s were the 1’s instead of the l’s but alas </33. hindsight is really twenty twenty vision or whatever the saying is

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

[stxrvel]

coincidence! (2)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, we're still on the safe zone, angst if you squint, just silly writing! a/n. hi guys! finally second chapter is out! im blown away with your response!! thank u so much from the bottom of my heart! i loooooved reading your comments <33 pls remember updates are weekly or biweekly! and if you want to be tagged pls say so in the comments! see you next week ;)

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

“This is unbelievable! We're going to be rich!!!” 

“What makes you think my sister is going to give you any of that money?” 

“I created that Instagram account that was tagged in Kim Taehyung's damn story, I deserve a raise!” 

“What makes you drones think my daughter is going to give you any of that money?”

“None of you are going to get anything out of that act of feigned innocence. Honey, are you all right?”

It seemed like a light had gone on in the room, four pairs of eyes landing on your still pale, surprised face. The night had been heavy after Yuna's call and you'd had so little sleep that you didn't know how you were functioning at the moment. Maybe that was the thing: you weren't functioning at all.

When you woke up, you thought it had all been a bad dream and that definitely the first exposure you'd had to the guys in years hadn't been because Taehyung came across your books at a convention you decided not to go to and uploaded them to his Instagram account with over eighty million followers. It was impossible, wasn't it? Too crazy. 

Maybe not as crazy as waking up to your parents banging on your bedroom door saying that over a hundred thousand orders had been placed overnight and they didn't have enough book production for that much demand. 

Be that as it may, Yuna and your mother took care of the communications on the account. You went from having twenty followers (including your family and friends —your father had created an account exclusively for that and only followed you—), to almost sixty thousand in at least twelve hours. The posts you had worked so hard to create and put together were finally getting the attention they deserved, but it had all happened so fast and suddenly that it was too strong to process calmly. 

Weighing which was stronger, whether Taehyung's acknowledgment of your existence after so many years of zero contact or that your book sales shot up so immeasurably that they couldn't even keep up with demand, even if a month went by, didn't make things any easier. 

“She's obviously still in shock,” Yuna replied to your mother at your lack of response from the living room, right across the dining room where you had been sitting since you had come down from your room. Your breakfast was still untouched on the table, but that seemed to be the least important thing in the room with all the more important news. 

“Have the printers answered yet?” your brother's voice through the speaker of your father's phone rang as you blinked, reality settling too slowly on your shoulders. You didn't even want to think about what it meant that Taehyung had done that. Maybe it was simply an altruistic act, wasn't it? Maybe he felt guilt and wanted to ameliorate it somehow. What better way than to do an act of charity?

“I'm on it,” your father was sitting across from you in the dining room, his laptop on the glass of the table as he moved his hands over the keyboard and stared through his glasses at the full tip of his nose. From the way his eyes narrowed, your mother snorted. 

“Why don't you get those glasses adjusted if you know you don't see well up close, let alone on electronic devices?” the woman reached over, dragging your father's glasses until they were almost glued to his eyebrows. Your father barely gave her a goofy grin as your mother started shaking her hands. “You better move. I'll do it. You write too slow; you're getting on our son's nerves.” 

“Nah, I'm fine. I don't know if y/n is tho.” 

Silence returned and you growled internally. Well, that was enough conjecture and assumptions without any information to substantiate them, it was time to get down to business. 

 “Do you think we should take over this business now?” Yuna completely ignored your stretch and you sent her a confused look. 

Your brother exclaimed from the phone in agreement. “I call dibs on the treasury!” 

“There's no way you can keep the accounts right! You're studying law.” 

“Seojun is good at numbers, Yuna.” 

 “Ha, with all due respect Mrs. I/n, he must only be good at counting sheep.”

 “Hey,” you tried to get attention, getting up from the chair. 

 “y/n, don't talk, you're still in shock. Can you believe he once called me from the supermarket to ask if he got his change right? He didn't even move from the checkout counter. There were people booing him.” 

 “Ow, my poor baby.” 

 “I told you not to say that to anyone!” 

 “I can't keep quiet if they're speaking lies about you!” 

 “This wasn't lies! This is about my pride!” 

 “Nonsense. I'll handle the treasury. I double majored in finance and international relations for a reason.” 

 “You can't run anything without starting bossing everyone around!” 

 “It's not my fault you're a good-for-nothing!” 

 God. It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Sorting out the whole printing issue and the number of orders was difficult, but with a couple of stories, interactions with new followers and express delivery of the few copies you'd already had at home for months, the waters calmed down a bit. Now, in the stifling silence of your room, you wanted to run. 

 “Are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” 

 “Maybe.” 

Yuna watched you from the bed while all you could do was stare as notifications continued to pop up on your Instagram account and your mail because the requests simply wouldn't stop, even though you had made a thousand clarifications to all the new followers. You were trying to focus on the bright side of things, regardless of whatever reasons there may have been for everything to have happened that way, but with your friend's incessant gaze lying on your bed it made it a little difficult. You knew she wanted to pierce your skull from curiosity, but you wouldn't know how you would answer her questions. 

 “Is there anything you'd like to share with the class?” 

 The tension had become a little more latent during the last few minutes, when Yuna saw a specific notification on the account. Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin had followed you. To describe your look of shock might be an understatement, and all you did for the next half hour was run across the room and throughout the house vociferating that you were living a nightmare. 

 Yuna has known all along that you had never been a fan of the siamese or their clan of friends, but she never knew why exactly. You had to tell her that you weren't interested in fashion, that you didn't like the kind of music Jungkook made, that hip-hop was never your thing, that you weren't interested in dilfs and you weren't interested in dance either. You had to tell her that all the things you once did with them didn't matter to you because it was painful, even if it was hard to accept.

 You couldn't remember the times you would go shopping at the small mall in town to buy the trending clothes to put together different outfits with Taehyung and Jimin, then go try them all on at your house and invite the others and even your parents to do an impromptu runway show. You couldn't remember how the genre of music that Jungkook and you listened to all the time on his iPod and your MP3 player was the same one that his entire music career focuses on. You couldn't remember the nights when Yoongi would share his writings with you and you would help him compose a song or two on the piano when he felt brave enough. Or the times when you would accompany Hoseok to his workouts and then watch him create dance routines to his favorite songs while Jungkook sang in the background. You also didn't want to remember the times when Namjoon and Seokjin would sponsor their trips and give everyone gifts without expecting anything in return. 

You couldn't remember those things. It was too much to bear for such a weak heart. 

“What do you want to know?” you sighed, your body sliding on the chair as the notifications grew. 

“How did all this happen?” 

“Why do you think I have an answer for that?” 

Yuna clicked her tongue, sitting on the bed with the cell phone still in her hands, still staring at the notification that snapped her out of her sanity. 

“It's just… this is all unbelievable, magnificent and unreal. But how come you're not so excited about what happened?” Yuna slid across the sheets, to be right in front of you, but you refused to look away from the computer. Every time you thought you had overcome and grown around everything that happened so many years ago, something would pop up to remind you that you still had a long way to go. Maybe the nostalgia was strong, but so was the anger. “Regardless of how things turned out, because I know you're not as big a fan as me, this opens a million doors for you and I don't know why you're not celebrating it like we are.” 

 “It's…complicated.” 

 “I don't think so. Tell me.” 

Yuna was unstoppable when she wanted to get answers out, but besides the obvious, of course there was something else that bothered you and kept you from enjoying this boom so much. 

 “It's just that all of this doesn't feel like it was a product of my effort,” you began, letting your gaze wander over the desk. The copies of your books you kept for yourself, the first ones you'd ever printed several years ago, lay there, as tattered as your failed accomplishment. “It doesn't feel like an achievement that my work had exploded thanks to a celebrity whose fans would buy even the toilet paper he uses. A lot of those people won't even read the book. They will just buy it and take a picture of it to say that they have the same book that the great Kim Taehyung read. Many of those books will never have a life, they will just be dust collectors and be reminders that all this did not happen because of my effort.” 

“What the fuck are you blabbering about? Of course it's the fruit of your effort! Of course you deserve it!” Yuna got up from the bed and moved the chair around the back to leave you in front of her disgruntled and almost offended face. You could see the words drawn in her face. “You worked so many years to pull this off and after so many bumps you finally can! You deserve to have what you wanted so badly. This recognition will last just the same because many other people will read them and love them and they may not be many, but you will form a solid foundation as time goes on with people who will be truly unconditional and supportive and that will grow over time. Don't look at this so negatively, maybe you skipped a couple of steps, but you had every right to. It was what you deserved after all the effort and dedication you put into this project for so many years.” 

 Yuna didn't hesitate for a second. Her very serious expression sent a shiver down your spine and you could tell from her furrowed brow that she really was angry at your perception. Perhaps she was right, but without knowing the full background of this specific situation, you were only left to shake your head in assent and send her a grateful smile. 

“I guess you're right,” you lifted a shoulder, turning your gaze back to your mail notifications.

“Of course I am!” the smile returned to her face and it didn't take long for her to look back down at her phone with sparkling eyes. “Now that we got the emotional charge out of the way, would you mind telling me how you know Taehyung?” 

Your breathing stopped for a second and you cursed yourself because it sounded too loud as you almost choked on your own saliva. 

“Oh?” 

Play fucking dumb. 

“What, did you think I wasn't going to notice? He wrote it crystal clear.” 

Yuna wasn't even looking at you, too focused on running her finger over the row of notifications. Her nonchalant demeanor only caused you to panic more. It was as if she had caught you red-handed. 

One of the best writers I've ever met in my life, damn you Kim Taehyung. 

“Ah… I didn't… I didn't really know him so let's just say…”

“He couldn't have said that for nothing, don't you think? No celebrity would do that unless it was a person they hold in deep regard.” 

Yuna had just caught you totally off guard. Maybe you should've focused a lot more on what Taehyung had written before you blocked his user from your personal account and threw the phone in the bottom of your drawer the night before and tried hard not to think about the rest for the rest of the night and all that day. 

“It's just that… uhm… we studied at the same school. But for a short time actually. I don't even remember it well actually, ha, ha.” 

Your laugh came out too constrained under your friend's narrow-eyed stare. You knew you'd have a hard time convincing her because you were a lousy liar. 

“You know, it always struck me as odd that you weren't a fan. Taehyung and Jimin are like the two extremes of your ideal type.” 

“Whaaaat?”

“And Jungkook's music is literally the kind of music you listen to, you just don't listen to his. All the other artists in the same genre you do listen to.”

“That has nothing to do with…” 

“And even your parents don't claim to know Kim Seokjin when your mother was literally a nurse. She probably worked with him.” 

“What does that have to do…?”  

“And your brother is a hip-hop fan. How come he doesn't listen to Agust D? He's the best rapper of the last few decades and he's been trending for a long time.” 

“…” 

At what fucking moment? 

“And all of them, plus Hobi and Namjoon, they all went to the same school. They're all friends. And you say you went to school with Taehyung?” 

“Ahm… well, yes, but it's not like I would have met the others.” 

Yuna looked at you, really looked you straight in the eyes as if that way she could tell what it was you were hiding or as if that solved all her guesses. It was impossible for her not to figure it out if she had already tied up all the damn loose ends. 

Since the boys had left one by one, clearly your family was the first to realize how much their departures had affected you. In the beginning there was communication and all, but when Jungkook was the last to leave you lost any kind of link with them completely. You never knew exactly what happened because no matter how hard you tried to contact them you couldn't, not even your parents could talk to the boys' parents. Perhaps they had simply grown up, matured, completely forgetting about their ordinary life in that town. 

They seemed to have disappeared from the planet. 

Until your family moved to the capital. Jungkook was just starting out as an idol, but he had an amazing debut. He had captivated the entire audience and was too successful almost from the second one. It was a torment to watch them grow professionally little by little because, although you were happy for their achievements and all, you couldn't forget that they had basically abandoned you. And your parents and Seojun had noticed. They had noticed how much seeing them all over the place was bumming you out, so unreachable when at one point they were all in your living room eating your mother's delicious kimchi and listening to your father's anecdotes. Everyone was affected by their departures, but clearly no one as much as you. 

That's why, of course, your parents and brother had made a silent vow to keep all media about the boys away from you, because they didn't even talk about it by accident in the house, at least not when you were present. 

“It must be a huge coincidence…” Yuna continued and only at that moment did you realize how much you got into your head. Your vision slightly blurred. “I shouldn't accuse you of anything for things like that, should I? What nonsense.” 

You were probably as white as a sheet of paper. 

“Yeah, it would be too weird… ha, ha.” 

God, you had to stop letting out those giggles when you were nervous. 

“Anyway, should we order fried chicken for dinner?” 

“I think I heard mom say she was going to make japchae.” 

“Ohhhhhh, Mrs. l/n's japchae is delicious!” 

You let out a laugh watching your friend spring up from the bed and head for the door. She stopped halfway out and pointed her index finger at you. 

“Don't tell my mom I said that.” 

You made a gesture to zipper your mouth shut and Yuna finally left. 

The previous conversation had been so tense that you already felt tired and ready to sleep at seven o'clock at night. Really the whole day had been so heavy for everyone that you didn't know how the lights in the house were still on. For now, you couldn't do anything else, even if orders continued to come in, now everything depended on the printer and how fast the books would come out, so you would have to wait. 

Maybe you should rest. You had asked your boss for the day off, but tomorrow you would have to continue working hard. Regardless of the incredible growth you'd had, you couldn't let your work go to waste. 

Tomorrow would be a new day. A quieter one, preferably. 

-

a/n: i'll try to have ready part 3 for next week! see you on june 13 at 11:59 pm - GMT5 time!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592

[npookie0]

can you do kc x a silly reader?? like one that is overall very unhinged and out of pocket and filled to the brim with the silly :3

Sure :3

Silly reader x KC

Tw. Very silly and goofy reader ><

Ever since you joined the server, you proved yourself to be quite the silly goof. In voice calls you would drop some unhinged lines or ideas.

"What if someone were to mix glitter in spilled blood? Like imagine a massacred head and glitter spilling from it with blood and brain." You said suddenly after Ronin dropped his usual cocky remark towards Angel.

At first there was silence, something you experienced many times, the killers have to register your words before they can answer.

Next thing you know, Misaki is bursting out, laughing and trying to catch their breath. "Oh fuck, you're so stupid MC." They almost choked while they were laughing.

"Your ideas are certainly... Something ." V said and sighed. "Hitmeup please drink some water." He said to Misaki who was still coughing.

"Woah darlin', the more things you say the more interesting your ideas become. Maybe I should test it out for you?" Ronin chuckled darkly. "Or maybe you could do that Angel? Glitter is your thing after all."

"Oh, fuck off Ronin." Angel sighed and you could swear that she rolled her eyes even if you didn't see her. "That's a very creative idea MC, can't wait to hear more." She chuckled warmly, her voice as sweet as ever.

Sometimes the server members just wake up to a spam of memes in the media channel from you just because you felt like it.

One time you even sent a stick man drawing of Ronin as JD from Heathers the Musical. Everyone, excluding Ronin, was cracking up at the drawing.

<@Angelic>: OMG I love you @MC please this is perfect

<@goreboy>: do you Want Me to use my Crowbar on Ya @MC? you too Angel.

<@MC>: Ronin, accept it. You're him and he's you.

Another time you decided to start the "hear me out cake" with the killers... Your answers were something.

"What do you mean by 'the letter A' dude?!" Luca asked after you sent a picture of said letter under the picture of a random cake.

"What do you mean? It gives off hot vibes, like a hot popular girl, tell me you get it Misaki." You replied and moved the question to Misaki.

"I have zero fucking idea, but hey it's still better than what you sent in the previous round."

"What do you mean? The lizard guy from Star Butterfly was HOT!" You exclaimed. "You bunch have no taste."

The killers couldn't say that their time with you wasn't interesting. You were unhinged and blunt. You never thought about your words, you just said whatever you wanted even in the most inappropriate moments.

<@MC>: Guys I think that kids should be locked up like animals in zoo and experienced on, if they want to act like wild beasts.

<@_LUCA_IS_COOL_>: What the hell dude? We were talking about our plans for the holidays.

<@h1tneuppp>: Shhh, this is about to get interesting.

Ronin:

Your silly nature was interesting for him. You sometimes dropped random traumatic experiences from your life, or just said something very unhinged.

Ronin can't complain about being bored with you around. If he's not persuading you into killing, you will drag him around the town or take him for random expeditions because you can't sit in one place for longer than five seconds.

Sometimes Ronin will just stand next to you in silence while you're doing something crazy, examples:

"MC, darlin', what the fuck are you doing?" Ronin asked, his eyes showed just how confused he was. Well, who wouldn't be confused if they saw their partner chasing after leafs in a park.

"I'm trying to catch the prettiest one." You replied like it was the most normal and obvious answer. Ronin just nodded. He was in awe about how little care you showed whenever someone gave you the side eye.

Ronin left you alone in his house for twenty minutes, apparently there was a very special asshole going around town and Ronin just had to deal with him. When he returned home he knew that you would do something crazy (at least in your way), but he would never imagine walking in on you while you were trying to dress up his rat BlackJack in a mini version of his clothes.

"Baby, would you mind telling me, why the hell is my rat dressed like me?" Ronin leaned on the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Huh?" You turned around to look at him, the rat curled up in your hands. "Well, you're like a rat, and BlackJack is a smol version of Ronin." You giggled with a sinister glimmer in your eyes. Ronin shook his head and approached you, he placed a kiss to your forehead and took the animal from your hands. "You're so fuckin' adorable sometimes."

Whenever you actually killed someone, you sent a picture to the #killer_shit channel, your murders were especially peculiar. The bodies were mostly untouched, expect the corpse having either an extremely bloody wound so you could draw a hello kitty head around the body or some silly doodles curved into them.

<@goreboy>: Woah baby, your art skills are getting better.

You smiled at Ronin's response and then scoffed when he sent a picture of his new kill with a satanic symbol curved into it.

<@goreboy>: Not as good as mine tho.

Headcanons >w<

- Ronin loves listening to your ramblings, even if you're talking about the most stupid stuff ever. He usually plays with your hair and looking through his phone while you just yap his ear off.

- Sometimes when you two decide to do some romantic homicide, you're the most silly killer Ronin has ever seen, you're literally gluing sequins around the curvings that Ronin leaves on the body, once you ever did a whole glamour make up look on a guy who according to Ronin abused his trans daughter.

- You doodle Ronin as JD and yourself as Veronica Sawyer, you even told him that you two will cosplay them for the next Halloween and if he dares to disagree, he will wake up with a sea of glitter in his bed.

- "You're like a more hygienic raccoon babe." Ronin said after he caught you looking for a late night snack around his kitchen in the clothes you stole from him.

- "Ronin, let's kidnap a snake from the zoo." You said, it was the middle of the night, you and Ronin were relaxing after some intimate time. Ronin looked at you and laughed. "Wow babe, you really pick the best times for these things." His laugh deep and long, arm over his face as he brushed his hair back. "I fuckin' love it about you."

V:

V was dumbfounded by every single unhinged idea you shared with him. He didn't know if having any expectations had a point anymore. Whenever he thought that your ideas couldn't get even more unique, you came up with an even more creative ideas.

"V." You called as you ran towards him and ran in circles around him. You almost tripped, but V managed to catch you. He sighed and helped you stand.

"My love, please be more careful. He pinched his nose bridge for which you only giggled.

"Aw, it's fine V! You'll always catch me. Anyway-" And for the next ten minutes you were rambling about a new idea, V couldn't even follow your voice. He was just too amazed by how many things your mind could think of at once.

Even if he couldn't wrap his mind around your way of thinking, V was happy knowing that your soul was pure, you wouldn't kill people ruthlessly, you didn't even think about that. But sometimes he tends to question your innocence, whenever he tells you about a new bastard he has to eliminate, you turn around with a wide smile and in the sweetest voice known to man you were giving him an idea of how he should get rid of that pest.

"My love, your ideas are positively terrifying. Maybe i should try it out for you on that rotten beast." He placed a kiss to your knuckles with a proud smile and a warm look in his eyes.

Headcanons X3

- V enjoys it when you're playing with his hair, putting it up or just twisting it around your fingers, while you're just talking about the silly ideas.

- "V, let's go and buy some cute outfits for your animals." You said while you were watching the bird V named after you. "Love, I want to remind you that most of my animals are dangerous and feed on humans." He replied with a slight hint of a smile. "But they also deserve something cute to wear." You exclaimed, it earned you a chuckle from him and a kiss on the lips. "Fine, fine. We can try finding something cute for them."

- V has to carry the first aid kit with himself whenever the two of you are outside. You have a tendency to run around carelessly, climb treat when you see something stuck on one. Most of these adventures end up with a scraped knee or a small injury that V has to clean up. "Please, be more careful." He says, knowing that you will do the same thing again.

- Sometimes when V wakes up and goes to the bathroom to get ready for the day, he sees how his hair magically happened to have a lot of colorful and cute hair-clips in them. And you just so happen to be right next to the bathroom door and trying your hardest to hold back the giggle. For V that start of a day is just perfect, with his partner in a good mood and right next to him.

Misaki:

Misaki fucks with your silly and unhinged nature. They adore it, and the way your eyes light up when you see jut how invested she is.

You take their hand and drag them around Tokio, you're totally lost and she just chooses to let you try and find your way. When you give up with a big sad pout on your face, they kiss you and take you for a piggyback.

"Don't worry pookie bear, I know my way around town." They say with a confident smirk and you just chuckle.

"Wow, you're my hero Misaki."

When Misaki spams your DMs with how panicked they are about the next assassination, you will send your selfie with you pointing on your lips.

<@MC>: Is this motivating enough?

<@h1tmeupp>: Babe omw to be done with this shit and kiss that stupidly sweet lips of yours.

<@MC>: Waiting ;p

Misaki loves it when you're stealing their clothes and return them with a small new added mark - a painted flower here, a sewed in patch of an anime character that you like there. They will wear that piece of clothing like it's something given by gods and will make sure to brag about you to the server and their parents.

Headcanons >:D

- You will call Misaki in the middle of the night because you just came up with a new theory about your favourite media and she just ha to listen to your yap session.

- Your nicknames for Misaki are just chef's kiss, some of their favourites: Cutie patootie, lil sniper mask, alpha sigma, babyperson.

- When Misaki doesn't reply because they're asleep or buy you will flood their dms with memes or sad cat pictures,

- You will join in on Misaki's weak tries to rizz up V, you know that it's a joke and you find it extremely funny.

- When you're about to return to your country from visiting Misaki, you will steal their clothes and find a perfume matching their scent, and she will take your clothes and your perfume.

Angel:

Angel is fascinated by you, and your ways of making fun of Ronin but still not sounding like a total asshole. You will always make sure to keep your remarks lighthearted and keep the relationship between you and Angel's ex boyfriend and currently closest friend chill.

"Can I open my eyes now?" Angel asks, you were standing in front of her and applying some make up on her.

"Nooo, I'm not done yet." You reply and move the lipstick on her lips. "Ta! Dah!" You said and held the mirror in front of her face. Angel opened her eyes and gasped, then she laughed and looked at you with a loving warmth in her gaze.

"You wanted to make me look like Jennifer?" She asked.

"Yeah! You called her hot, and I wanted to check if my skills are as good as think they are." You say with a proud smirk. Angel stands up and kissed you.

"I love it, but we do need to work on your skills cariño."

When Angel found a new manager, you and Ronin were ready to throw hands. Well you took action in your own hands and left them a small note in their bag "Hurt Maria and I will break your spine." It would be very threatening. if you didn't use a colorful pencil with glitter in it.

Headcanons <3

- Angel enjoys laying in bed with you, snuggled up to you as you discuss her new video or some of your interests. She feels so close to you, these moments are perfect.

- Whenever Angel has a taught day at work you will go and basically kidnap her, you carry her bridal style to the nearest cafe and keep her away from watching her phone. Sometimes she may seem irritated with it, but you will kiss her or hold her close and this irritation disappears.

- One day Angel found her pink gun in the living room with some doodles and sweet messages all over it. You came into the room and snatched the gun from her.

"I'm not done yet." You exclaimed and hid the gun behind your back.

"Awh, but I want to see it." She gave you a pout and you just gave in.

- For Halloween you dressed up as Ronin and gave Angel a full of one-person-show imitation of him. Angel can't hold back her laughter and holds her aching stomach.

"Oh, I love you." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "You're so amazing love."

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

The Agency's Older Brother: or, Ranpo's Character Development

I want to talk about Ranpo and the development he goes through in the series, because for as much as Ranpo is an important member of the Agency, his story is focused on in small chunks that may not always, at first read, seem to be overly significant. In fact, Ranpo’s arc is very consistent and I’m fascinated to know where it’s building to, because he’s done a lot of growing in the series. A lot of the themes of his story are to do with responsibility and faith in others.

The Ranpo we meet at the beginning of the story is not the Ranpo we see now. The biggest change is that he’s a lot more personally involved with the struggles of the Agency members, taking it on himself to be proactive and protective, while previously he had to be pushed and bribed into helping much of the time. When did this change?

Well...

[ID: Two screenshots from a scene in Poe's introductory episode of the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. In the first screenshot, Yosano lies on the carpeted ground, an axe embedded in her chest, blood pooling around her. Ranpo is crouched beside her, supporting her shoulders with one hand and clasping her hand with the other. The second screenshot is a close up of Ranpo's distressed face. End ID.]

The thing is, it's almost easy to overlook the effect this scene had on Ranpo, because Poe’s introductory chapter/episode is such a brief one. Moreover, afterwards, Poe becomes an ally and is a bit of a silly character, so it’s easy to forget sometimes that he was a legitimate threat here - and Yosano nearly died for it. This scene was incredibly significant to Ranpo for a few notable reasons.

It’s the first time someone in the Agency was in serious trouble/died without a backup plan.

It is, unfortunately, kind of on him. (Let me be real clear here: I am not blaming Ranpo. But he probably was blaming himself and that's something to keep in mind.)

To recap: Poe pulls Ranpo into his novel out of revenge, also trapping Yosano, who went with him. Ranpo realizes that they are in a world with no abilities, and importantly, he doesn't have the glasses Fukuzawa gave him.

We know those glasses mean a lot to him. When Ranpo was at his lowest, when he was convinced the world hated him, Fukuzawa gave him those glasses and told him he had a special ability. That he had a gift that no one else did that allowed him to see the truth that no one else could. Untold Origins makes it very clear that if Fukuzawa hadn't reached out to Ranpo when he did, Ranpo may have forever been outcasted. He was a kid kept in a bubble then suddenly and rudely shoved into a world he was unprepared to cope with, where he continued to get rejected and thrown out over and over - and all this on top of the grief he felt from his parents' passing. Ranpo was bitter and terrified of people, and thought everyone was pretending to be oblivious just to hurt him. Fukuzawa saved him the only way he could, in the only way Ranpo would hear him. It's not an exaggeration to say Fukuzawa saved Ranpo's life. And, while cute, it's also telling how quickly those glasses became an intrinsic part of his identity. Only maybe twenty minutes after he first received them, he was already making little doodles of himself wearing them.

Suddenly, the glasses are gone, and Ranpo goes into a funk because he "can't activate his ability without them". Obviously, we know that isn't true, and so does Yosano. Ranpo probably, deep down, knows this too, but to admit that would be to admit the president lied to him, and to uproot the very thing that gave him the means to perceive the world in a brighter light. The reason Fukuzawa had to lie in the first place was because the truth would be to tell Ranpo that his parents lied to him, something he angrily denies could ever be the case. And now, Fukuzawa is very plainly stated to be Ranpo's adoptive father. Ranpo's parents do not lie to him. He does not want to see it - and so he doesn't. This is a recurring thing with Ranpo. For as much as he sees the truth clearly, he also chooses not to see it at times when it would be uncomfortable/go against the intuition of someone he deeply trusts and respects.

And I think it's very easy to just leave it there, and say, "Oh, Ranpo realized at the end of this chapter/episode that he didn't need the glasses, that he doesn't have an ability, and that's a key turning point" but I don't feel that's the full picture or even the focus here, especially since Ranpo still hasn't reached the point where he can properly admit it aloud, even to Yosano.

The thing is, those glasses aren't just of use to Ranpo - they have sentimental value. A heck of a lot of it, for a character who is not very sentimental. The real turning point here is that Ranpo put on Yosano's glasses in order to save her.

[ID: A screenshot of a panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo puts on a pair of glasses. His hair is blown out of his face and he wears an intense expression. End ID.]

Shortly before this, we are informed by Yosano that not only was the Agency specifically formed for Ranpo to make use of his talents, but also that it was Ranpo who invited her to join - which we later learn was a pivotal moment for her to start over after she was completely broken by her experiences in the war. And now, he is watching her bleed out because she had to take over. Because he couldn't solve it. And that, to Ranpo, is unacceptable.

But again, there's more to it. Ranpo is fundamentally a self-centered character - this is not a judgement; I actually love that about him. He's the center of the Agency, the (ostensibly) good guys of the series; a narcissistic guy with little in the way of sensitivity who wants to use his skills to help others. Not for some higher ideal, or because it's "right" necessarily, but because he's good at it, and because he's supposed to protect all the "babies" who can't solve things for themselves. I love it because it highlights a major theme of BSD, which is good as something you do rather than something you are, and also because it explains something about Ranpo himself.

See, if everyone in the world is a "baby" who needs Ranpo's assistance, then the people in the Agency are a little different. They're people hand-picked by Fukuzawa to support him, both through praise and through backup. Remember that Ranpo trusts Fukuzawa's judgement more than anything - this means that he expects the Agency members can handle themselves. So, in chapter 10, when Ranpo doesn't really care that Atsushi has been taken, citing that it's a "personal problem" and he should handle it, I really think this was some odd form of "Atsushi will be fine" and "why should I worry or do anything when I know he'll be fine". And in the past, this has been true - the Agency members always pull through. None of them, up until that point, have been in a situation that they couldn't eventually fix. Ranpo has a bubble of safety in the Agency, that basically amounts to a "villain of the week" type beat from his perspective, where troubles gets fixed up pretty quickly. All in a day's work.

But then Yosano dies in Poe's book, someone he actually had some level of responsibility for when he invited her to join his safe little circle in a world that had no place for people like them. And it's a direct result of Ranpo's refusal/inability to act.

In order to fix this, Ranpo uses Yosano's glasses. The lens he's seeing through has changed. The people in the Agency were initially "his" in that they were meant to support Ranpo, the special one "chosen" by Fukuzawa's glasses, the reason for the Agency's existence in the first place. But now the people in the Agency are "his" in that they are his to protect. He's their big brother they all look up to in a way, and as the big brother, he's got to take responsibility for their safety.

Why did this not stand out in the moment? Well, we learn something about Ranpo from Untold Origins: he's very good at pretending he's doing okay and things aren't bothering him as much as they are. He's able to hold it together up until it all comes spilling out of him during the play. Also, I do think Ranpo cares about people a good deal more than he'd have you believe. A common fanon thing about Ranpo (from what I've seen) is that he tends to forget people, which, I can see how one would come to that conclusion, but I actually think it's completely wrong. I don't think Ranpo's forgotten a single person he's accused. I don't think he's forgotten a single person he's helped.

He lied about not remembering Poe, in fact, he remembered him pretty fondly as a real challenge. He remembers the information on a person from the Special Division he was asked to look into and gave the info to Mushitarou to allow him an in. He recognizes an officer he'd helped, and it's implied he recognizes every single officer who had been present while he was working on cases in the past. Does this mean he cares about all of them? ...eh. Probably not. But it does mean that Ranpo keeps a lot of his cards close to his chest. He's disarming with his intentional childishness. And so it can be difficult for the characters and readers both to notice that events like Yosano's almost-death... actually bothered him a lot more than he let on.

Because it was his fault. Because she was his responsibility. Because he's supposed to be invincible.

And unfortunately, the story from here on out does not get any kinder to Ranpo as his safe bubble that is the Agency is repeatedly targeted in ways that are increasingly hard to repair.

Fukuzawa falls ill and nearly dies in Cannibalism arc.

A girl gets blown up and Kunikida ends up in jail because Fyodor managed to manipulate Ranpo's intel.

Mushitarou is believed to have been shot and killed trying to warn Ranpo about the Decay of Angels plan.

Taneda bleeds out from a stab wound and falls into a coma. Ranpo can do nothing but listen and cannot get him help.

The amount of times Ranpo has seen people nearly die in front of him... bro it's almost as bad as Kunikida.

Much like Kunikida having extreme faith in his lofty ideals which make him fall just that much harder when he fails to uphold them, Ranpo has practically zero self-doubt and complete and utter confidence in his abilities... so when problems arise, Ranpo is very harsh on himself. He takes the blame because he's supposed to be better than that. Because he is the one with the powerful "ability" that should never fail.

In this sense, Ranpo's position in the Agency reminds me a lot of a certain person in the Port Mafia, someone who also has a powerful skill he puts towards protecting his own, someone who also received life changing words from the boss which earned him his loyalty, and someone who would do anything to defend the only place in the world he feels secure.

I think there's definitely a reason Cannibalism arc had Ranpo and Chuuya face off, I'm just saying. Both of them ostracized and thrown out as young teens by people who should've been looking out for them. Both the instigators of that arc, proactive and desperate to protect the person they are most loyal to who changed their perspectives. They've even got the same power stance, look. :P

[ID: Two panels from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. The first is a panel of Ranpo with the silhouette of Fyodor behind him. He is standing with his hands in his pockets, facing front with his head tilted back and to the left a little, a fierce expression on his face and his cloak billowing outwards. The second is a panel of Chuuya standing in a similar manner, arms crossed, facing front with a fierce expression as his coat billows out around him. End ID.]

Of course, there's more interesting comparisons and contrasts to be drawn between them, but I'm focusing on Ranpo in this analysis, so I think I've made my point. Chuuya is the Port Mafia's best martial artist. Ranpo is the Agency's strongest man. And that places a burden of responsibility on them that they both believe they must uphold. They're both ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

The thing is though, is that Ranpo doesn't actually have an ability. When up against someone like Chuuya, he is at a distinct disadvantage, and he knows it. "Regular people can't defeat ability users". But he's still going to come up with a way to do it anyways, and why?

[ID: A screencap from the Bungou Stray Dogs anime. The members of the Agency all stand around Ranpo, who is seated at his desk with a smile, one hand holding his cap, the other held up in a casual gesture. The image is filtered in a soft light. End ID.]

Because his friends think he's invincible.

If Ranpo wants to maintain his safe place in a world of fear, then he has to step up to defend it, and he has to get creative about it. And that's exactly what he does. Ranpo becomes steadily more active throughout the story, which is a huge change from the start, where he had to be practically bribed to help at all. I see a lot of people point out his channeling of Fyodor's tactics to secure Kunikida's release, which is definitely a dark turn for his character, but it's not the only change.

Ranpo is now choosing to place his faith in others, the first obvious instance of this being his use of Poe's novels - which was how he defeated Chuuya. Ranpo knows that he is not going to succeed against people who drastically overpower him all alone, even if he does still take things on as personal burdens. He's also far more obvious about his protectiveness, going on the rescue himself to save the Agency members, driving a car (whereas before he needed someone to take transit with him - another indication of his increased proactivity since he's now literally driving instead of being driven), and bodily shoving Atsushi out of harm's way.

It all culminates in one of my favourite Ranpo scenes where he speaks at the conference to the police, who've worked with him before, where he asks if they will think for themselves - and tells everyone gathered there that anyone can be a detective if they think for themselves and look with their own eyes (!!!). He manages to get half the police force on his side, just through his words and his logic alone! Minoura assumes he somehow knew it would all work out, because, well, it's Ranpo. Ranpo knows everything.

But...

[ID: An image from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo sits in the passenger seat of a car with an honest, helpless smile. End ID.]

He reveals he didn't know if his ploy would work at all. He had to trust that it would with no solid proof. He had to trust these people would use their heads and look beyond the obvious. He respects these people enough that he thinks at least some of them will make the right call.

Fourteen year old Ranpo, bitter and estranged from other people, would never. For him to have come such a long way is testament to the security that the Agency provided him with. In a way, Fukuzawa forming the Agency allowed Ranpo to "complete" his childhood in relative safety, so that when the world became hostile once again and his family destabilized, Ranpo had matured enough to meet it and defend himself and those he has a responsibility towards head on. The Agency is his family, and Ranpo cares for them enough that he puts his faith, not just in them, but in the people they put their faith in too.

[ID: A panel from the Bungou Stray Dogs manga. Ranpo is kneeling in front of Fukuchi, who is sitting backwards on his chair to face him. End ID.]

...aaaaand then Fukuchi went and ruined it. Thanks, Fukuchi.

Ranpo again chooses to put his trust in someone without proof because Fukuzawa trusts him, only for that to have gotten thrown back into his face in the worst way possible. And it's in this regard, the trust aspect, that I think we'll see Ranpo develop as the story goes on.

Will he continue to show this tentative faith in people? Or will he begin to hyper-analyze, unwilling to trust again without proof?

If this arc gets resolved decently well, I think Ranpo will have no issue brushing this off as a one-time thing. However, if what I fear might happen does and Fukuzawa doesn't make it out of this arc... Ranpo will be destabilized.

I don't know that Ranpo would go "bad" per se. He likes the other Agency members. He cares about them - that's genuine. But if Fukuzawa dies, then Ranpo may begin to take darker actions in order to keep them safe, almost overprotective and harshly logical, with little room for blind trust or risks in the name of justice or honour. It may put him at odds with Kunikida, in that Ranpo may start to develop a strong "do what's necessary" mentality, even if that may be immoral. He may regress a little into his old trust issues.

However, I really don't think Ranpo will go too far down the path of darkness, even if the worst should happen. He's a lot tougher than he seems, and he has a good support system in the Agency. I guess it remains to be seen where Ranpo's story takes him next.

Until then...

[ID: A screencap from the Bungo Stray Dogs anime. Ranpo sits in his chair in a cuter art style, having taken a bite from the pastry he has in his left hand. End ID.]

I love one good boy. :)

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

ONE

Beneath my perfume and make-up I'm just a baby in disguise. And though I know that it's wrong to be alone with him that "come on look" is in my eyes.

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Merry Christmas! 🎀 I present my newest story now because it's set at Christmas. This story will be full of subjects that can provoke and a theme many recognize. The french is google translate!

Silver Bells, Silver Bells… It's Christmas time in the city…

I looked at the mountain of gifts in front of me on the floor. It was silly I still received so many Christmas presents and that my parents still said it was from Santa Claus. I was twenty-one years old, a whole woman, but I still got everything from my wish list. I sat and looked at an eyeshadow palette from Dior, swatching the shades on my hand while my dad sat and looked at me like I was still his five-year-old little girl. I would always be his little girl, even if I went to college and had my own car. Or technically it was his, but it was mine. What would he have done with a little white beetle?

“Are you happy with your gifts, Jacqueline honey?” Asked my mom when she came into the room, carrying her coffee mug. She was still dressed in her red robe that matched my red pajamas.

“Oh yes, thank you so much, I mean Santa,” I said with a giggle and laid the palette on the neat pile of gifts by the well-decorated Christmas tree. My mom smiled, pleased, and sat down next to my dad, who also drank his morning coffee.

“When will the others be here?” I asked as I stood up, ready to take a shower and make myself ready for our Christmas guests. It was my older brother with his family and my aunt with hers. There would be thirteen people, and I would sit by the kids table as usual. I didn't complain because I had never had a reason to leave the table, and I probably had more in common with my teenage cousins than the grown-ups.

“They will be here at one, but you know Jason is always early,” my mom said looking at her phone, probably checking for Christmas greetings on Facebook. I nodded a little before leaving my parents in our Christmas-decorated living room to walk to my bedroom on the second floor. I had my own en suite bathroom there and could take the time I needed. It was just family, so it wasn't really that important to look great, but it felt better to do my full routine even if no one would touch my smooth legs or check if my eyeliner was completely even.

While I stood in front of my mirror, after my shower, there was a knock on the door, and in confusion, I answered, “yes.”

“Can I come in?” my mom asked, against the door. Doubtfully I opened it even if I was just dressed in a white spaghetti top and panties, but my mom didn't seem to think about that; she just looked at me with big eyes.

“Would it be okay if you took Jason's old room for a few days?”

My first thought was that my aunt and her family would sleep over, but a few days sounded like a very long time.

“What? Why?” I looked around in my bathroom, all my expensive things and light colors. Children were not allowed in there. My mom looked stressed, fixing the red jacket of her velour tracksuit over and over.

“Your dad's friend, Keith, has suddenly showed up.”

I looked at Mom with furrowed brows. I have heard about Keith but more in a nostalgic way from my father’s old stories. I knew he was a musician, and my dad had been close friends with him when they went to college but seemed to have drifted away because of their different lifestyles.

“Why? It's Christmas Day? You can't just show up on Christmas Day?” I said, pulling out a drawer under the sink to search for a warmer shade for my lip pencil. My mom leaned against the marble sink and sighed.

“He has separated. Seems like he has been kicked out and needs somewhere to sleep. Awful woman who kicks him out on Christmas morning!”

“Maybe he is a pig? Maybe he has cheated? Or he's abusive? I dunno, men can be trash.” I continued to search for the right pencil, comparing them to each other. My mom shook her head but then looked at me seriously.

“So can he take your room?”

I had forgotten about the question, and when she asked it again, I felt my hackles go up. Some cheating, gross man would not sleep in my bed.

“Why? He can take Jason's room?”

“Yours is the only one with a bathroom. If he will live here for a while, he can't use the bathroom in the hallway all the time.”

I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Why not? I can't just move all my stuff to Jason's room!”

“We’ll move the important things, and he will let you in to get stuff. I'm sure of it! Keith is nice!”

I made a frustrated sound and pouted, trying to make my mom feel sorry for me, but she started to go through my drawers and cabinets, probably to see what I actually needed to move into the other room.

“Mom...! I whined and stomped my foot like a toddler but didn't get a reaction. Instead, I walked out to my room and looked at its cream color palette. It was so light, fresh, and clean, and a man would absolutely destroy that. I had never even had a guy in my bed, and I wanted it to be that way. I didn't like the smell of heavy cologne or cheap hair products.

“He will destroy something!”

“He will not,” sighed my mom as she walked out from the bathroom too, looking at my room. I think the both of us found things that were a bit embarrassing. My prizes from spelling competitions, my old children's books and movies, but also a super old picture of me and my high school boyfriend I still hadn't thrown out. There were leftovers from my time as a teenage girl in the room; it wasn't a grown woman's bedroom completely.

“Maybe you should stuff some things away…” My mom said gently while looking at my collection of seashells that lay spread out on the windowpane. Once again I huffed in frustration, but Mom didn't care.

“I'll go and find some linen for him, and you can start to move your things to Jason's room.”

I watched my mom leave while I stayed in the middle of my room with crossed arms. I didn't want to leave my room to a stranger. It felt intrusive, and I wondered if he would go through my stuff, read my journals, sniff my panties, or something. I had so much makeup he could break, and he maybe would leave hair and body fluids on my stuff, but my mom had made the decision. I knew she wouldn't change her mind, but I knew there was maybe another way to go, and that was to ask Keith.

I pulled on a pair of silky baby blue pajama shorts with my spaghetti tank. I fixed my hair, long and flowy, and then my makeup the sweet and girly way I've noticed other men liked. I maybe wasn't so experienced in having relationships with men, but I knew how to get their attention and use it for my own gain. Every good-looking girl knew that.

I walked down the stairs while practicing what I would say in my head. I would talk to my dad so Keith could overhear my fake sadness, and say to him how I can't sleep somewhere else. When my dad would say no, because he would, even if it pained him, just because he couldn't go against my mom, I would leave and go by Keith and say hello to him. I would look sad with shiny eyes but sweet and kind, playing with my long hair and fluttering my long lashes. I would brush my hair over my shoulders so he could see my chest, and I would play with the bow in the front of my shorts. I felt quite sure that he would give in.

When I had descended the stairs, I tried to locate my father and listened for sounds and heard someone sniffle in the living room. Knowing that my dad had a cold for a long time, I was sure it was him and prepared myself to look like his sad little girl. I walked into the big living room, looking around the corner by the open fireplace to see if my dad sat on one of the couches, but he wasn’t; instead, another man sat there.

I had never seen a photo of Keith, and I had never thought anything else other than that he was the same age as my dad, but the man who sat on the couch was probably just a few years over 30 and also looked handsome, even if his face was covered by his two big hands. He was crying, and something told me it had been far worse earlier because his hands shook, and in front of him on the table lay several used napkins. He sniffled again and dragged the back of his hand over his eyes, and it was then he saw me.

Both of us looked surprised at one another. In silence, we looked at each other up and down. I couldn't say how he saw me or why we didn't say anything. I just knew I was looking at a really attractive man with big, sad eyes.

“Are you okay?” I said carefully, and he smiled sadly and nodded. My first instinct was to run from him, run from the awkward moment of seeing a grown man cry, but my curiosity took over, and I felt a need to know more. Slowly I walked up to him and sat down in the other corner of the couch with my feet pulled up.

“Are you Keith?”

“Yeah… You must be Jacqueline?” He changed his position so he sat more towards me. I nodded a little and looked away in embarrassment after having looked at him a bit too long.

“Thank you for letting me come like this to you… And on top of that, take your room. I understand if that doesn't feel good; I can sleep wherever-”

“It's okay. It's okay,” I interrupted with a smile even if I had felt something completely different before. He dried his cheeks and smiled with a lowered gaze that made him look boyish even if he probably was ten years older than me. A giggle escaped my lips, but it caused him to just look at me with a bigger smile.

“I can show you the room...”

“Oh, thank you,” he said and stood up with me. He was much taller than me, and I got a tingle in my stomach that moved down lower when I looked at him up and down discreetly.

Been an awful good girl. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight…

He walked behind me up the broad stairs, and I wondered how his view looked. How much of my ass could he see? Could he see how closely I've shaved my legs?

My cheeks heated like I've been sitting by an open fire, but thankfully my makeup covered a bit of it. I stepped into my room a bit embarrassed but also overwhelmed over having such a big man so close to me. His presence was almost overbearing, and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster.

He took some steps into the room and looked around at the interior, but I just looked at him. He was the first guy, except family members, who had been into my bedroom. He had on a pair of loose lounge pants that sat more tightly over his ass and also in the front, and I couldn't stop myself from looking. I could feel a pulse in my nether regions that made me squirm a little in my place. I had never had the feeling of wanting to be close to a man before just by looking at him, but there was something special with him, but I couldn't say if it was his eyes, lips, or body that made my limbs get soft.

Just by reflex I looked up at his face and met his questioning look.

“Hm?” I said, laying a hand over one of my glowing cheeks.

“I should give you a gift; it's Christmas, and you let me sleep in your bed and… Yeah, it's really nice of you. I should give you a gift.”

I smiled at him sweetly even if my thoughts were far from sweet. Something had taken over me after just meeting Keith, and my otherwise sweet thoughts were dripping with promiscuity. The only gift I wanted from him was to be able to share my bed with him and feel that Christmas spirit taking over us completely.

All I want for Christmas is you…

×××

Have a holly jolly Christmas; it's the best time of the year…

I wore a velvety burgundy dress with a big white collar and a black bow in my half-updo hairstyle. I had always dressed sweet at Christmas, going back to my childhood style, but I felt silly when I stood next to Keith. He was in a deep conversation with my brother about some soul artist I had never heard of, so I stood awkwardly next to them and just listened. During family celebrations, I most often was with my sixteen-year-old cousin Savannah, but I was afraid Keith would see me as a teenager if I was with her and talked about young actors and influencers.

The men continued to talk over my head while I played with my fingers nervously. Earlier, before my 28-year-old brother began talking to Keith, it was he who had been awkward. It was understandable; he would celebrate Christmas with a family he didn't really know, invited due to unfortunate events. He didn't seem to have had much clothing with him either because he had one of my dad's plaid button-ups on, but he still wore the gold band on his left hand. I didn't know what to think about it because I had no idea how it was to be separated, but I still thought he should have taken it off; he had been thrown out on Christmas.

“Chéri, aide-moi au lieu de rester là comme un imbécile.”

My mom began to carry out the dinner to the table and told me to help with a snappy voice. I woke up from my deep thoughts and met Keith's eyes. I couldn't read him, and I swallowed hard before giving him a shy smile. My brother mentioned another musician, and Keith turned his eyes to him quickly to be able to follow the conversation and made me feel silly that I believed he would give me his attention. I started to help my mother, even if my hands shook, and from nerves I did everything thoughtless and messy. My mom groaned, irritated, and fixed the cutlery I knocked into and moved the serving plates I put in the wrong place.

“Tu vas bien? Tu es si maladroit aujourd'hui.”

My mom asked if I felt alright but more irritated than caring, and I looked at her tired; she always stressed on Christmas.

“Je vais bien j'ai juste un peu mal dormi.”

I blamed my sleep and shrugged my shoulders. My mom accepted my excuse, but when she walked back to the kitchen, I looked towards the living room, where I could see Keith now talking with my aunt's husband. I wished I could join them and talk with ease and charm to him, but I didn't even dare to go up to him again. It felt like I had stood awkwardly next to him too much this evening. Instead, I stayed by the dinner table still just as awkward and looked at him with wide eyes. He didn't look like any other guy I've met, and he was so tall he was towering over my whole family. Even if he looked so manly, he moved softly and had a kind aura.

“Are you avoiding me or something?” Savannah had walked up to me with crossed arms.

“What? No.” I looked down at the table and pretended to correct a glass.

“Good.” She pulled out a chair and began playing with a fork, something I would never dare to do because of my mom.

“Do you keep up with Barry Keoghan?” She said excitedly, like it was the most important thing in life. I gave her a fast look and right after that at Keith. If he walked in and heard me talk about such shallow things, he would never talk with me for real.

“I must help Mom…” I said instead and gave Savannah a shoulder shrug.

There wasn't much left to do, and just minutes later, everything was ready. I took a last look at the tables. The dining table sat seven people, and then the other table sat six. I would sit at the smaller table, the kids table. I looked at the childish napkins and the soda in the middle and then thought about Keith. I would sit at the kids table. I felt a weird mix of panic and shame and looked at my mom, who took a last look at the arrangement. It was now or never.

“I want to sit with the grown-ups.”

I sounded like an eleven-year-old that wanted to play adult, and I felt my cheeks glow. My mom turned to me and looked at me confused, but then she shook her head. She gave me a sharp no in French.

“Why?” I whined and felt the panic even harder.

“It's good you're there and can help the younger kids.”

“But Savannah is there!”

“I said no,” said my mom with a louder voice, probably to make me give up, just like she did when I was a kid. That got my dad's attention, and he peeked into the dining room looking confused.

“What is it?”

“I want to sit with the adults. I'm 21! But Mom won’t let me!”

My dad gave my mom a look with furrowed brows. For many years he had felt that I should have a spot at the adult table, so for him it was given that I would change seats. My mom looked at us and then sighed and muttered something in French I couldn't hear. I didn't care what she said because I had won, and I couldn't hide my big smile… It wasn't really that I wanted to sit with the adults; the thought made me slightly nervous, but it was a relief to not look like a kid in front of Keith.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you. I'll be so blue just thinking about you…

Savannah looked hurt when she saw the kids table get filled up while I stood by the dinner table. I had taken a seat at the end where I knew my dad would sit. It felt safe to have one of my parents close, even if I knew everyone except Keith around the table. I looked at an empty seat, and that's when I realized the only seat left for Keith was the one right next to me. I stared out in front of me, scared to look toward my side when he walked up and filled my nose with a warm, musky scent.

“Is it okay if I sit next to you?” He asked, and I gave him a glance. I stared right into his chest, forgetting how tall he was, and looked away again. I gave him a little nod, then looked at my father, speaking to my brother, while standing by the chair next to him and opposite of Keith.

“Thank you…” Keith mumbled, and I gave him one more glance, this time remembering his eyes were higher up than mine. I met the green of his iris, and he gave me a smile before he took a hold of my chair and pulled it out for me. I didn't know where to look because to me that was a thing guys did on a date, or at least for a woman they were attracted to. I looked at my father, afraid he would be upset with Keith, but my dad shared a smirk with Keith, his friend, who just did it playfully to amuse his little daughter.

Keith let go of the chair when he realized I hadn't sat down, and I could see my dad looking on still amused, as if he had made fun of me. I felt the shame rise again but tried to swallow it down because I really wanted to make a good impression in front of Keith. I didn't really know why. It wasn't like I believed anything would happen between us, that I had a chance with a married man, but I wanted to be able to at least pretend something could happen between us.

I sat down, trying to do it smoothly, like a lady, and then looked at Keith when he had sat down next to me. I could feel my cheeks heat, like they had many times that day, but I pretended like it wasn't there. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to feel I was closer to him.

“How old are you?”

As soon as I heard what question I had picked, I bit my tongue. I had so many questions, but clearly my mouth had chosen the question I wanted an answer to the most. Keith smiled a little and took the wine bottle in front of him and the cork screw that lay next to it.

“Younger than your dad, if that's what you're wondering.”

Instead of looking at me, he looked towards my dad so he could gain his attention. “I'm not an old man!”

My dad laughed and threw out a finger towards Keith.

“Still, you look older than I do, Toshko!”

Keith laughed like it was impossible, and then they continued their banter. I sat and looked between them with a small smile even if I wasn't amused. I wanted a real answer to my question and had a silly thought about how I didn't want Keith and Dad being friends, even if that was the reason why Keith was in our home.

The men quit joking when my mom came to my father to ask him something, and Keith looked at me again.

“I'm 38. So yeah, a bit younger than your dad.” He smiled kindly at me, and I could see small lines around his eyes. He was almost 40. My dad was 47, so the age difference wasn't as big as I had thought between them. The age difference between me and Keith was bigger, though. 17 years.

“You're 20, right? I think you were, like, four when I met your dad.”

“21…” I stared at his big hands while he opened the wine bottle skillfully and I felt something itching in my stomach.

“Did you meet me then?” My voice was small.

“No, it never got that way.” He shrugged his shoulders, then showed me the bottle.

“Wine?”

I looked between his handsome face and the bottle before shaking my head. 

××× 

Santa, tell me if you're really there. Don't make me fall in love again…

I had said to myself that I wouldn't be with Savannah so much to make a more grown-up impression in front of Keith, but after he had told me his age, I gave that up. After dinner I played cards with her and her fifteen-year-old brother and then watched Miracle on 34th Street with the rest of my cousins. How Keith would see me as an adult felt impossible when he had heard about me since I was three years old. I would be a little girl in his mind forever. 

I saw him drink whiskey, smoke a cigar with my uncle, and was loud in that obnoxious way only middle-aged men could be. My ex had been a boy, a boy who liked tennis and Fortnite. I shook my head to myself when I thought about it but still felt an exciting curiosity when I looked at him. He smiled at me a few times, and a couple of times I succeeded in smiling back, but that was the only contact we had the rest of the day until it was time for me to go to bed. 

After my brother, Savannah, and all the others had left, I helped my mom in the kitchen so there wouldn't be so much work to do the next day. Both of us could feel the tiredness in our eyes and bodies and looked at each other confused when we could still hear my dad laugh loudly from the living room. On past Christmas Days he had even fallen asleep before the guests had gone home, but now he listened to jazz, drank, and laughed with Keith in the living room. He seemed to have lost ten years on his age by having Keith there, and I could see my mom was annoyed. She probably wanted to be able to lie down in bed with him because she marched out to them and told him sourly it was time to go to bed. I smirked, amused in my loneliness, because with age, my mom's diva behavior started to become funny instead of scary or annoying. I walked up to my room, skipping on saying goodnight so I wouldn't need to wait for them to finish their nagging. I was tired and lost in thought, so I forgot an important thing: I wasn’t sleeping in my bedroom. It was loaned out to someone else, but I just walked in and, in my sleepiness, closed the door and started to take off my clothes. 

I thought about Keith's marriage while I pulled off my tights. Who was his wife? How long had they been married? 

I thought about their separation while I pulled off my dress. Why did she kick him out? Would they make up? 

I thought about who he was as a husband while I pulled off my bra. Was he loyal? Was he romantic? Was he a generous lover? 

When I stood in my panties, laying my clothes on an armchair in the corner of the room,I heard a creek and looked towards the door that was being opened determinedly. I concealed my chest but didn't do more than that to cover my modesty. In my mind it could only be my mother. No one else would just open my door like that, but in the doorframe stood Keith, so tall his messy hair licked the top of the doorframe. I looked towards him in confusion for a few seconds. His eyes showed shock at first, but then we both seemed to relax under each other's gaze. I could feel him looking at my body from top to toe, and I basked in how his eyes glittered.

“I can take the other bedroom…” he said as he smirked a little. The smirk made me feel a sensation take over me, and a need for rebellion came over me, so I let go of my chest slowly. Keith swallowed hard but his smile grew while dragged a hand over his face. He looked over his shoulder like he was afraid someone would come, but at that moment I didn't care. He pulled his lip and shook his head a little. 

“Um... Good night.” 

“Good night,” I said, with a teasing smile, playing with my hair while I walked to my bed, letting him see my breasts in motion. I didn't know where the confidence came from, probably just seeing his eyes swimming with attraction and his cheeks rosy. 

“Merry… Merry Christmas,” he mumbled before taking a last look and closing the door to my bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the door for a few seconds before starting to giggle. I couldn't believe I had done that. I couldn't believe how he had looked at me. Keith was a grown man. A tall, sexy man. 38 years old. But he was also a friend to my dad. 

×

[suhnshinehaos]

growing pains : act three, part fifteen (2/2)

series synopsis : people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves. pairing : svt 97 line x gn!reader genre/s : non-idol au, coming of age, angst, fluff, my attempts at humor act three, part fifteen (2/2) wc : 1k

act three : the unexpected love  ➤  part 15 : infinite mornings

after years studying and working abroad, yn is finally back home to a new job and new faces. all they want now is to focus on nothing else but their career and one of their coworker’s friends, minghao, makes it all the more interesting. 

previous  ➤  act three, part fifteen (1/2) next  ➤  act three, part sixteen growing pains ➤  masterlist 

you have to stop yourself from running your fingers through his hair. it falls just past his brows, and the salty sea breeze covers your arms in goosebumps.

or perhaps it’s just because you could feel his knuckles brushing against your skin.

minghao has to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing your hand. he knows it would feel warm against his, a welcome reprieve from the cold morning air. 

but he settles on keeping his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants.

there’s a silence that envelops the two of you, and he’s waiting for you to say whatever it was you wanted to say. there’s a million thoughts that’s racing through his mind. while he cherishes each moment he spent with you, he can’t help but wonder what made you want to move this little bit trip up so fast. and on such short notice too.

you notice the small furrow between his brows. “what are you thinking about?”

“whatever it is you’re thinking about.” 

his voice is calm, collected, and for some reason it sets a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach. it felt silly, really, having a little crush. if you could even call it that. you’re no longer a teenager, noticing that your closest childhood friend has been growing cuter and cuter over the years. you’re no longer a college student or in your early twenties holding on to a relationship that isn’t officially one.  

this was an entirely different thing. you’re both well into your twenties. he’s a respected figure in your industry, and you’d like to think that you were on your way to becoming one too. if this new opportunity goes the way you hope it does.     

the two of you sit on a couple of rocks by the shore, knees and shoulders brushing. it’s quite uncomfortable, but neither of you shift in position. 

“minghao, can i be honest?”

“with me? always, yn.” he looks at you, and he doesn’t ask what made you wonder that, he just waits for you to continue.

“i’m terrified, hao.” 

minghao pushes past his initial apprehension and reaches out to place his hand on top of yours, urging you to tell him more. if you were going to be brave enough to tell him what’s bothering you, he was going to be brave enough to let you know that he stands by you through it. even in the simplest gesture that he could think of.

you take a deep breath and let it all out. jihoon going on tour, and the multiple photoshoots that seungcheol has booked for you along the way — with publications and people that you thought you would only dream of ever working with. 

“and i wonder-” you pause, and minghao squeezes your hand. “what if i’m not cut out for this? seungcheol and ji are placing so much trust in me and i don’t know if i can live up to that! i’m not you-”

“you’re going to do great.” 

minghao cuts you off, and the certainty in his words takes you aback. you blink and let out a breath. “how do you know?”

“you’re not me.” 

minghao lets go of your hand and you try not to feel disappointed at the loss of contact. you still do, but the disappointment disappears when he places his hands on your shoulders to look you in the eyes. your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“you’re you, yn. you’re creative in ways that i’m not, free and dynamic and you’re going to do wonderful because you are. you’re not me, and i’m not you. just because your strengths are different from mine doesn’t mean you’re less than me.” 

you manage a smile, and he offers you a smile back.

“you might actually just be better than me.”

you roll your eyes and shrug his hands off your shoulders, still trying to quell the beating of your heart. “well now you’re pushing it.”

minghao chuckles, low and soft. “i’m more worried about who i’m going to be making tea for.”

“i’m sure you’ll live.” you shake your head, the weight in your chest slowly starting to disappear. the worry is still there, but minghao’s words offer you a sense of comfort.  

minghao holds a hand over his heart, pretending like he had just been shot. he smiles wider when you laugh. “you underestimate my need to make you tea in the morning.”

“well, infinite mornings.” 

you echo what he had once said to you and minghao hopes you don’t notice the heat rising to his cheeks. he holds on to the bravery and confidence he had earlier, “that only works if you come back to me.”

“will you be waiting?” you laugh, tilting your head up to the pale blue sky and hoping he doesn’t notice the slight shake in your voice. if he doesn’t answer, you could chalk it up to just a joke. but still you hold your breath.

he nudges your shoulder with his, making you look back at him. “with tea and a smile.” 

the air stills and you let out an exhale. you’re not too sure what to say, before you could even think of the right words, minghao’s voice once again falls on your ears. 

“do your best, like i know you will. just shine.” 

you think of all the words of wisdom and comfort he’s said to you, the advice he’s given, the several impromptu photoshoots with him, “i will, for you.”

“not for me.” minghao shakes his head. “for you.”

you nod, and you take out your phone to confirm to seungcheol that you’ll be going. minghao listens to your call with a proud smile, a slight sting in his heart knowing how much he’d miss you. 

then again, infinite mornings. 

he just hopes you hold up to your end of the bargain, because he definitely will.

from reese, with love

there aren't enough words to describe how much i missed ynhao, writing in general, and being on here. thank you so much for reading this, i can't make any promises right now but i missed this. i'd really love to know what you think, hope you're doing well and taking care!

[milfsloverblog]

Life Eternal (part 1)

Can you hear me say your name forever?

Larissa Weems x former student fem!reader

A/N: Sapphic Yearning at its finest. Don’t fall for your teachers, kids, it will ruin ya! Might be inspired by real events…Title from one of my favourite Ghost song, which you should really listen to if you want to get the full experience. Thinking of turning this into a multiple chapter fic, let me know! <3

ps: really want to insist on the fact that Larissa and reader’s relationship was platonic. Larissa was nothing more than a mentor to reader.

You had been staring at the letter on your lap for the past twenty minutes. Reading it again and again, as if you had not read it a hundred times since receiving it nearly two weeks ago.

“Dear Miss…” You sighed loudly and pushed the letter away, your eyes falling on the signature at the bottom of the page “Sincerely yours, Larissa Weems.”

You emptied the glass of wine you’d poured yourself hoping to find some courage in it. Of course, you were expecting the invite to arrive at some point, it always arrived around the end of May. At least it had for the past five years.

Class reunions. You hated the mere thought of it. Surely the ones that used to be popular loved those reunions, but you…No, you couldn’t bare the thought of seeing her, not after leaving the way you had.

Would she recognise you, you wondered as you threw your jacket on and took a last look in the mirror. You hadn’t changed much in five years and it seemed like she hadn’t forgotten about you. And you definitely hadn’t forgotten about her.

You didn’t even know what made you change your mind after five years of not attending. Perhaps it was the fact that the letter had been handwritten this time instead of typed, or maybe you had been hypnotised by the scent of her perfume that lingered in your room after you’d opened the envelope.

Now that you thought about it, moving out of Jericho had been both a blessing and a curse. You hadn’t moved very far, only a twenty minutes ride, but it was enough to ensure you wouldn’t accidentally stumble on her while doing your grocery shopping.

It was silly, that need you’d felt to run away from Larissa. You knew it was silly and yet you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t have kept acting like she meant nothing more to you than a mentor.

———

“Mom, please…” You had pleaded with your mother, refusing to get out of bed. “I’m telling you I can’t go. I feel too sick.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You did feel sick, but not physically. Your illness was way more insidious than a simple stomachache or a common cold.

“Principal Weems will be so disappointed not to see you.” Your mother had said, standing with her hands on her hips. “I’m sure the poor woman has been impatiently waiting to see you graduate. And now you will let a little sickness take that away from her?”

She always found a way to rub salt into your wounds, even unknowingly. She had no idea. She had no idea that Larissa was the reason why you were refusing to get out of bed that morning.

“Please.” You had said again “Just go and get my diploma. Tell her I will visit whenever I can.”

Now that was a lie. You knew you would never visit Larissa again. You’d made up your mind a while ago already.

Your mother had eventually given up and attended your graduation ceremony alone. Principal Weems had been nothing but professional, your mom had told you, although she’d noticed that Larissa’s smile had seemed a bit forced when she had explained that you were sick and couldn’t be there to receive your diploma.

—————————

You were snapped out of your memory by a car loudly honking behind you, signaling that the light had been green for a few seconds now. How long had you been zoning out for? You hadn’t been to Nevermore in five years and yet it seemed like your brain still remembered the road as if you had left yesterday.

The car park was already nearly full when you arrived and there was no doubt you would be one of the last invitees to show up.

A shiver ran down your spine when you walked through the gate under the Nevermore sign and entered the yard. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just walked into the lion’s den, that the trap was closing in on you.

Looking around at the people you recognised a few familiar faces, werewolves, sirens, and gorgons catching up together instead of segregating themselves like they used to.

Someone calling your name made you turn around, your eyes falling on a face you’d recognise anywhere.

“Enid!” Your lips immediately spread into a smile. She hadn’t changed at all, still that bubbly young woman dressed all in pink.

She pulled you in a tight hug and you grimaced a little, locking eyes with Wednesday who gave you a knowing look.

“So, you two…” You asked when Enid eventually let you go.

“Yes!” Enid answered excitedly as she wrapped her arm around Wednesday’s waist, a small blush creeping on the Addams’ cheeks.

And it made sense, you thought, that the gloomy girl would fall for the bubbly one. Isn’t that what had happened to you too, after all?

Enid excused herself, saying she was going to get some drinks for the three of you. A silence fell between Wednesday and you but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“I knew you would come someday. Enid kept saying we would never see you at a class reunion, but I knew you’d eventually come.” The Addams girl said. “We can’t run from our feelings forever, can we?”

Wednesday smirked devilishly when you looked at her with wide eyes. If she knew, if she had been able to realise, who else had?

Enid reappeared before you could say anything, handing you a cup of what looked like white wine.

“The handwritten invitation was a nice touch.” You said after taking a sip and letting out a small chuckle. “I do wonder where she found the time to handwrite so many invitations though.”

Enid frowned and looked at her girlfriend before looking back at you.

“You received a handwritten invitation?” She asked. “Because we only got the good old computer typed one…Why would she send you a hand-“ Wednesday gently put her hand on the blonde’s mouth and whispered something in her ear, which had Enid nodding and keeping quiet.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the entrance door from which Principal Weems had just walked out to step onto the podium.

She didn’t need a podium, she was already towering over everyone there but that’s simply how Larissa was. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was or how she looked, something she had desperately tried to teach you when the two of you were close.

“All your life there will be people trying to push you down.” You remembered her telling you, her fingers holding onto your chin to make sure you were looking at her. “And yes, it will hurt. You may cry if you need to, but you can never give up. And don’t you ever be ashamed of who you are. You are incredible, my darling, don’t you forget that.”

Larissa’s voice resonated through the yard, commanding everyone’s attention. With unwavering poise, she delivered her speech, thanking everyone for coming that day. Every eye in the crowd was fixated on her, hanging onto her words.

The principal’s smile widened a little when she noticed Enid and Wednesday, only to falter for a second when her blue eyes eventually locked with yours.

It felt like time had stopped. Like it was just the two of you and the others had ceased existing. It always felt that way with her. She would look into your eyes and make you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

There was a short pause in Larissa’s speech, so short in fact that you weren’t sure anyone else had even noticed. It only took a split second for the woman to pull herself back together and finish her speech, her eyes falling on you a few more times.

Larissa ended her speech by telling everyone to help themselves with the food and drinks and reminding them that Nevermore would always welcome them if needed.

You were out of the yard as soon as Larissa stepped down from the podium. You needed to get out of there before she decided to come and find you, because you knew she would.

Coming here today hadn’t been a good idea. You should have stayed at home and buried that damn invitation in the drawer of your desk as you had done with the past four ones.

You heard the familiar sound of heels approaching the alcove where you were hiding and barely looked up when the sound stopped right next to you.

“I knew I would find you here.” Larissa spoke softly.

Of course she did. You always used to hide here whenever you needed to be away from everything.

“Your mother said you would visit whenever you’d feel better…I’m glad you finally do” The tall woman added.

It didn’t sound like she was reproaching you, and when you looked up at her face and your eyes met her gentle ones, you knew she wasn’t. Larissa was simply stating a fact. You were here, and she was glad that you were.

She hadn’t changed at all, you thought as you quietly observed her face. You noticed that the lines at the corner of her eyes and around her lips had deepened. She was as beautiful as ever.

“It’s very good to see you, Principal Weems. Thank you for the invitation.” You wished you had the courage to use her name, to call her Larissa like she had allowed you to do when in private. But time had passed and you weren’t sure if you were still allowed to.

“Of course, I’m glad you joined us today. Will you follow me to my office? There’s something I’d like to show you.” The older woman said, not waiting for your answer before spinning around on her heels and walking away.

Stepping into the office felt stranger than you thought it would. You were almost immediately hit with a wave of memories. Sitting down on the sofa by the fireplace, reading a book while Larissa furiously typed some emails on her keyboard. Spending whole evenings debating on the most absurd subject either of you could think of.

You’d fallen asleep there one time when Larissa hadn’t noticed how late it was. You’d woken up the next day still on the sofa but with a blanket covering you and a pillow comfortably tucked under your head. God, you loved her.

“There it is!” Larissa said, pulling you out of your reverie.

She handed you a small rectangular red box tied with a ribbon. You read the tag that was hanging to the bow and felt your stomach drop. Congratulations, darling! You make me so proud. She had bought you a graduation gift and you hadn’t shown up. You didn’t deserve her.

“I kept it all those years. I was hoping that you would visit during the summer after your graduation.” Larissa explained “And when you didn’t…I suppose I kept hoping that you would someday.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been as hard for her as it had been for you. Had she missed you like you had missed her?

You pulled on the ribbon and watched as the bow fell apart, your hands slightly shaking when you lifted the lid to reveal a pair of black leather gloves.

“You always said you loved mine, remember? The beige ones?” Larissa asked.

If you remembered? You couldn’t count how many times you’d watched Larissa put her gloves on, admiring the way her fingers flexed in the leather. You had dreamt of helping her take them off only to kiss her knuckles.

“Do you like them?” The woman whispered, unsure what your silence meant.

“I love them.” You answered almost immediately. I love you, you thought. “Thank you so much, Miss Weems, this means more than you could ever imagine.”

Larissa’s smile widened and her body slightly moved forward, panic rising in your chest when her arms moved from her sides and you realised she was about to embrace you.

Don’t, please don’t. Because if you do I will fall right back in love with you, and I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go again.

But you didn’t say anything. You let her wrap her arms around you and pull you close against her. And it felt so right. You hadn’t felt this alive in years, yet it killed you to know that this meant nothing more to her than a hug between two old friends.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.” You whispered as you embraced her. She still felt the same in your arms. She still smelled the same. She was still her.

“I know.” Larissa whispered back, her body gently swaying from side to side as she held you close.

You felt like you were eighteen again, sobbing in her arms after a particularly rough day. She had never let you down, not once had she refused to help you and you had run away without an explanation.

“Larissa…” You whispered, wanting to explain yourself furthermore, needing to tell her how stupid you had been.

“I know.” She repeated and your ear that was pressed against her chest caught her heart beating faster.

You weren’t sure what she knew exactly, but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not while she was holding you close and shielding you from the world. There would be plenty of time for explanations. But for now, it was just you and her, tightly embracing each other.

[raainberry]

Moonflower

« In literature, the moonflower has been used as a symbol of love, mystery, and enchantment. »

Sana x gn!reader

Not fluff, not angst, but a secret third thing

synopsis - your job is flowers. she’s not sure how she got into this mess. but maybe you could get her out of it.

- part.II - part.III -

wordcount - 1.6K

TW - like one (1) soft cuss word

A/N - Made a draft, let it marinate for a few days, came back, changed directions completely and VOILÀ. I might get a little silly and make a pt.2 bc there’s leftover drafts🤭

Getting married at twenty-two was not in her plans.

Getting her needs and wishes overlooked in the process was not something she imagined either.

Yet there she was…

“We’re here!”

The volume of that voice startled her. She’d grown to hate the sound of it too.

“You’re gonna love it! The flowers are so beautiful and smell amazing. It’s like they pick them every morning.”

Sana watched as her soon to be mother-in-law left the driver’s seat. The much older woman slammed the door behind herself, leaving her in a silence she craved for ever since that same morning.

However, it wasn’t long until she heard that voice piercing through the windshield.

“Come on, what are you waiting for!”

Sana sighed, quickly gathering herself and putting on that fake smile she’d carefully crafted over the last few months.

She couldn’t remember the last time her smile had been genuine. One that conveyed how happy she felt, like whenever she’d meet up with loved-ones, get one of her sugary drinks no one liked but her, or simply listened to music.

Mundanities like these used to be enough. Now it was all a luxury she couldn’t seem to afford.

It felt like forever since she’d last enjoyed something as simple. Since she last enjoyed something.

Everything was a chore nowadays. Just chores she could only do with her fiancé and/or future in-laws.

Each time, each day she had to see them somehow meant adding a new detail to worry about in a wedding that felt less and less hers as time went on. A new box to tick in a checklist she had no desire to even start in the first place, much less partake in.

She barely knew how it had gotten to this point.

She felt as though she was drowning, yet had no idea how she’d even landed in the water.

The last few months were a blur. Everything went so fast.

One second she was graduating college. The next she was engaged to her year long partner.

Literally.

The man had proposed at her graduation party.

She blamed it all on the moment’s euphoria. That’s what made her say yes. It had to be. It was the only reasonable explanation as to why and how she would agree to such a mess.

Now the bliss was long gone.

“White roses are really pretty, aren’t they?”

Your voice startled her out of her thoughts, causing her lips to turn into that fake smile again.

It was impressive how quick she could switch up. That skill she picked up managed to fool more than a few people in the midst of this hell hole.

“I got proposed to with them.” She blurted out, her eyes stuck on the flowers proudly exposed in front of her.

It was almost robotic. Like a pre-loaded answer.

That didn’t go past your ears. You could tell her voice lacked a certain emotion that you were used to hearing in this workfield.

“Oh. Then would you consider them as an option?”

The woman finally looked at you, taking notice of your uniform and name tag. She looked confused, and a faint redness appeared on her cheeks, giving away something she’d rather keep to herself.

Now she regretted the words that slipped out of her daydream.

After taking a glance at you, she would have preferred to keep you clueless about her engagement…

“For your wedding.” You precised, breaking the silence that had settled.

“Right.” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“I see. Maybe something similar?”

You went on to show her and tell her all about a bunch of flowers that looked like this damn white rose. It didn’t go so far as making her smile again, but she enjoyed hearing about the various pretty plants surrounding her.

It took her mind off what she really was there for.

Until she was reminded again.

“Sana! Have you seen these? So pretty!”

The brunette glanced over to the other side of the shop, seeing the older woman holding what seemed to be a bouquet of bright, orange flowers.

She couldn’t contain the disdain she felt at the sight.

You caught her features tense up for a split second, completely understanding her reaction. It was hard to hold your laughter back, but you pushed through in order to keep the palpable tension between the two from exploding.

Sure, the flowers were pretty, but they were far from a good choice considering the kind of event you were being sollicited for.

“They are, but something a little more delicate would be more suited.” You said, attempting to save the poor bride-to-be by your side. “I’m actually showing Ms. Sana a few options here if you’d like to join us.”

You’ve dealt with a few mothers and in-laws before, you knew how to handle the more hands-on ones.

You always made sure to put the brides and grooms’ tastes first, earning you more than one scolding. You couldn’t care less, though, all you wanted was for your customers to have a pretty bouquet to their liking and a smile when exiting your shop.

“I’ll just look around on the side.” The older woman turned her back to the two of you, to the brunette’s delight.

“What’s your favorite flower?”

You looked back at her, catching a determined gaze with your own. It was certainly different than the detached, almost absent one from a minute prior.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m open to any suggestions. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to like at least one thing about all this.” She scoffed, bringing a peony to her nose.

Now, you’d sensed the fact that this wedding planning was being done under some tension. The patterns never lied, but you still found yourself surprised at her words.

It seemed to be worse than you thought.

“Do you not have one?”

Her voice snapped you back to reality. You must have been silent for a while.

“Sorry. I was just thinking.” You mumbled. “But to answer your question, I do have one. I like moonflowers.”

“Moonflowers…” She repeated under her breath. “It sounds pretty.”

“They look pretty too.” You smiled. “Would you like to see them?”

“Do you have some?” She asked, curious.

“Of course. It’s the main reason I work here.” You smiled, leading her to your favorite flowers.

Her face lit up at the sight of them. Her features suddenly looked much softer, her eyes a little brighter, and her smile… It was small, barely noticeable if you didn’t focus on her lips.

Yes, you were staring at her lips, but could you really be blamed? She was beautiful. Everyone stares at beautiful things. You were no different, and she wasn’t either.

She was staring too, only at the flowers.

You cleared your throat, suddenly remembering what you were being paid for, and resumed your job.

“We only have a few of them, but they’re beautiful.” You said, filling the silence between the two of you.

“Why do you prefer these?” She asked, tracing a few petals delicately.

“It’s a long story.”

“I have a lot of time.” She glanced at you, her eyes letting you know you’d better start telling her that story.

You weren’t sure where that attitude was coming from.

She seemed so hopeless when she stepped in behind that in-law of hers. You expected to deal with another worn out bride, bracing yourself for about an hour of work to turn that frown upside down.

Nothing had warned you about this rebellious trait she seemed to have.

You were curious now. Surely, if she wanted to put an end to this, it looked like she could…

So why was she here?

“Why are you getting married?”

Maybe a little too forward, you thought, wincing at your own words.

The motion of her fingers against the flowers came to a halt.

“What?”

Her eyes were back on you, and you felt your heart pick up the pace. You racked through your brain, searching for an excuse to cover your unprofessional slip-up, all while trying to decipher the way she looked at you.

“I ask this question to all my customers in order to get them the best flowers.” You lied, pulling your best customer service smile. “I’m not trying to sabotage your wedding, don’t worry.”

“Do you actually?” She asked, completely switching her focus onto you.

“Yes.” You lied again. “I’m not asking for details. Just a few adjectives will do.”

Sure you felt a little bad about it, but in all honesty, you were more impressed by the fact that you managed to keep it together and not stutter once.

That woman had one intense gaze.

“Well…” She trailed off.

She was hesitant, looking for words you could already tell would be lies.

It made you frown internally while you feigned patience in front of her.

Maybe the attitude was a façade.

“Because I was asked to.”

Or maybe not.

You weren’t sure of anything regarding this woman and her situation anymore. That was one good lesson of never judging a book by its cover, or something along those lines.

“I see.” You nodded, looking down at the ground.

It was a lie again, but in your defense, you didn’t know what else to say this time around.

“Have you ever actually sabotaged a wedding?”

Your eyes darted back to her. Your obvious surprise amused her, and she let you know with a laugh as soft as her smile.

You felt something in your chest. A sudden drop in temperature as her laugh sent chills down your spine, only for it to rise again along with your heart rate.

It was odd. Something about her was odd. It seemed as though she was hiding something, and your body debated on whether or not it wanted to be around to find out what.

And all you could do was watch, feel, and respond when needed.

“No.”

You opted for the truth this time. You didn’t expect much to come out of it, but it seemed to please her.

Her smile appeared again. It was a little wider than before. More confident.

You ignored its effects, but you couldn’t ignore the beauty of the sight before you.

It was all you could focus on, forgetting about your surroundings and their own beauty once again.

It was blinding.

Enough for you to agree to anything that might come out those perfect lips.

She knew all about that.

She’s been told all her life.

And she loved to take advantage of it.

“Do you want to?”

[wammypilled]

Sssooooo, there's this abomination I've been trying to write since last spring, that I really wanted to post for Mello’s birthday but honestly I think it needs some more time to marinate, just a wee bit, so I thought I'd at least post a little snippet today...

It's Wammy’s era and kinda wholesome, kinda fcked up, very silly and chaotic— so much so that I had a really hard time picking an ~excerpt. In the end I just chose this one bc I felt like it summarized the (insufferable) vibe at least somewhat decently.

Had to wait and wait and wait until I got so tired I wouldn't gaf anymore, bc this is my first time posting writing (or trying to really "write" at all) and it's so ☆nerve wracking☆ and I'm still trying so hard not to self-deprecate but honest to go— ahem, here it goes!

The city was a tragedy in three acts. Opening with the first victim: that poor van, dying on them some twenty times minimum. Second, enter the blondes’ paranoia about there being cops everywhere. And the grand finale: parking. So hard, apparently, that after two bumps, a glaze and countless reverses, Mello just made a brusque left, stopped by a tree in the middle of the bloody parking lot, pulled the handbrake and twisted the key out.

Linda relaxed so much she practically collapsed, “It’s over…”

“For you, yeah, it is…” He got out.

Without having to think about what Mello meant, Matt followed suit and hopped off. 

The asphalt was so still under his soles… solid… he almost bent down to touch it with his hand…

“Holy hell, it’s sunny!” Mello stretched, then closed the door in Near and Linda’s faces, “See you never, wankers!”

“What? Let us out! Matt, let us out!”

He also closed the door, making sure to talk loud enough for them to hear as he reasoned with his best friend, “It’s Folkestone and then on to Calais, no?”

“Ferry from Portsmouth. ‘S quicker.” Mello corrected, locking the van and then taking two fags and the zippo out of his coat pocket.

Like a moth to the light, Matt circled around the muzzle to light them on the same flame, while Linda yelped from the cabin.

“What the fuck else do you think I stole a bloody van for?” Mello’s upper lip twisted in question of her logic (as if there was anything sound about his), and Matt had to bite on the cardboard of the filter not to laugh.

“It’s nice and cosy in there, isn’t it? You’ve your snacks… Stay put.”

With the sweet, sweet buzz of bitter nicotine starting to wash over him, he found it in himself to gaze sympathetically at his girlfriend, “they’ll find you…” he assured, “eventually…”

She stared between the two of them (trying to see through the smoke?) while Near, unused to their modus operandi, twirled a white curl, gleefully interested in further developments, even though he’d very much be involved in them.

“Sorry guys, but you didn’t really think we’d tell you where we were headed, did you?”

“Matt, I swear to God!”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Babe, we’re both agnostic…”

Near actually chuckled. He was so weird, jeez…

Mello, in the meanwhile, had finally had it and turned his back on them.

Without another word, they made their merry way to the nearest entrance, their louche fairytale having them leave ashes in their wake…

For some reason he’d imagined the shopping centre would be a lot bigger, the architecture more geometric and satisfying, but now he realised that that had been a memory of a mall in Karachi, the one auntie used to take him to… which gave him a pretty clear idea of how Mello knew about that place, and also hurt to think about too hard— so, anyway, this mall here looked like a mess, straight lines and curves clashing instead of harmonising with each other. The sight didn’t make him feel cheery in the least, if anything it kind of looked like a gigantic pirate hat.

“Really, though, we could go anywhere we want, the world’s our oyster...”

“Mhm… with the lemons life gave us? Slurp!”

He could feel his fucking gums shrinking… “What is it with you and lemons today?”

“What? I love lemons!” He smirked, giving him a half-lidded, x-ray once over, “All kinds of lemons…” 

The images of Wammy x Ruvie old man smut that flooded his mind had Matt shuddering so hard he had to turn away and his ears filled with static—

“Aw, he’s just so sensitive!” Mello gave him a shove, which was promptly returned. 

A grin reflected off of Matt, easy, automatic, whole, and all the time he’d been deprived of those moments, of the pranks, their telepathy, his best friend’s touch, it hadn’t been at all.

Sunshine had never looked so pretty: squinty-eyed and toothy, the top layers of his bob flitting in the sea breeze like gold threads.

Matt inevitably felt his face warm, but didn’t look away. Mello did, slowing his pace. He’d change the subject now, Matt knew, no matter how he pleaded and yearned.

“What do we do with those cunts?”

Oh, right. 

“Linda’s probably breaking the window as we speak…”

Mello took one long last drag, and the time to smirk scornfully at his enjoyably-paced cigarette, and blew out the smoke to one side, “You shouldn’t have said that.”

Neither dared look back, but Matt tilted his head, smiling helplessly at his best friend until he rolled his eyes and pivoted on his tippy toes. 

He wondered how Mello felt, consciously falling for such a basic form of manipulation, but not for long, because that walk drove Matt fucking crazy; the moment that twat put some shoes on, one foot fell in front of the other just like a model's. Impossible not to see why he wanted to go shopping. He hoped he got to buy something cool to strut in…

[jamminlocks]

Mistletoe Are White {Korai Hoshiumi x Fem!Reader}

Tags: F/M, second POV, childhood friends, friends to lovers, fluff, first kiss, kissing, christmas decoration, mistletoe, korai is soft, christmas fluff, christmas fic, actually after christmas fic i guess, post-timekip, not beta read word count: Summary: It your long time dream that when you fall in love, you and your significant other, whether it on purpose or by chance, would kiss each other under a mistletoe. Its a silly dream for a little kindergartner to have and especially as you get older. You held on to that dream hoping that It would happen in highschool. Years have already gone by, and now your in your twenties with a dream that may never happen. that is, until you were taking down Christmas decoration and Korai was holding the ladder for you. A/N: i've had the very particular need for korai x readers fics for a long LONG time but theres barely any here or on ao3 so this fic is just me cooking my own food cause. enjoy [ao3]

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

It started when you and Kourai were kindergarteners watching the old boxy television, sitting on their living room sofa with no choice but to watch the Christmas theme commercials that got really, really boring after the 100th time and more. You don’t even remember what show you were waiting for, but there was one commercial that caught your attention. Recalling it now, it's all too hazy. No longer knowing how it started or what it was even advertising. All you remember was how it ended: the couple looked up and saw there were red berry decorations on the doorway they were under. They smiled at each other and confessed their love. Then, the guy kisses his girlfriend and she kisses back. They hug so sweetly that you remembered thinking it must be a very special kiss, but you don't know why.

From here, the memory was clearer. You said out loud, “I don't get it.”

“Me either,” Kourai complained too. When you looked at him, he seemed more baffled than you, making a repulsed face. You remember holding in a wheeze.

His mom chimed in, with a wide grin and spark in her eyes that made her look ten years younger. That smile stayed the same even when you two grew up.  She leaned over the sofa and said, “You see kids, the berries over their heads are called ‘mistletoes’. It's a Christmas tradition that you kiss the person you love when you stand under it.”

“Wah! Really?” You gasped, surprised that that was a thing adults do. 

Kourai, on the other hand, didn’t have your enthusiasm. He made a face and stuck his tongue out. “Gross!”'

His mom only giggles, probably because of how different the reactions were. “You say that now, Kourai. But one day, you’ll wanna do that with your girlfriend too.”

He slammed his hands on the pillow sitting on his lap in retaliation. Cheeks red and round as the berries you saw on the commercial. “No way!!” he recklessly shouted and was so frustrated. His voice was so high back then. 

She laughs this time, then she turns to you. “How about you, sweety? Would you wanna do that with your boyfriend?”

Looking back now, it was just a question meant to only tease you. The kind of question adults ask kids to mess with them or make light conversation. You took it seriously and stayed quiet to think of your answer. Do you want to do that when you grow up, you asked yourself. 

What your little self’s thought process was has been lost to your age. You recall telling Kourai’s mom, “I guess I’d like too…?” coming off strong then faltering in the end. This time, she giggled. You felt a little confused as to why. But it was likely because of your confidence to say an unsure answer. After she was done letting her giggling out of her belly, she looked at you and patted your head.

“Well, I hope you find a special someone you really, really like to do that,” she said. These words would stay with you. Even your silly little kid brain figured out that she meant it.

Earnestly, you said, “Yes ma’am!” with the enthusiasm a child puts on to appease the adults around them. Her smile softened and she turned to Kourai, who was still pouting. Reaching out a hand, she patted and combed through his short, white hair.

“You too, Kourai,” she said sweetly to him. He crossed his arms as he turned away from you and his mom. 

“Kissing is gross!” He loudly stated with firmness as if it was completely true and new to himself. She only rubbed his head harder while she began to laugh again, commenting on how he’d understand when he got older. Grown ups say that a lot, you thought.

When the show you both wanted to watch finally aired, It was a fun time for you and Kourai. You were so noisy together as you watched, giggling and energetic, as children naturally. Then, as soon as the commercial break rolled in, so did the impatience and disappointed silence. But that one commercial was on again, so you take in everything you see like a sponge. Thanks to Kourai’s mom’s words, even well after that night and throughout the December of that year, you intently watched it. You did not change the channels when it was on, taking in as much detail your little self can comprehend, wondering why she wished that commercial for you. 

•~•~•~•~•~•

Whenever you see those berries as decorations for the Christmas season, you still think of that kiss scene, imagining it from the Hoshiums’ old TV you one day never saw again after the summer of your first grade. It was replaced by a much better, cooler, and less bulkier, black TV.  So did their old sofa they weren’t in a hurry to replace. What those berries are you eventually learn more from shows, manga, and novels. Kourai’s mom was right, the rule is indeed to kiss the person next to you when standing under the plant. It is a very romantic thing to do, you gradually learned.  

The magic of it did work on you a bit after a while, the more you saw it in the romances you read and watched. You have seen it done so well that it leaves an impression and also falls flat that the wonder lasts only for a few seconds, then feeling bored of it. Often, it is the latter. It became clear to you that the mistletoe was a cheap and easy trick to get two characters to kiss and confess, or kiss and create a misunderstanding, which were just confusing and a headache even for a kid like you then. Yet, you were still in awe of that one commercial you saw. It may have been your memories being cloudy and distant that gives it wonder, as nostalgia often does.

That was until you saw a drama on TV. A drama that moms love to watch and chat about, includes your own mother. You were in your first year of middle school when it was airing. Much like before, it was December and you were hanging out at Kourai’s place because you didn’t want to go home and get nagged to do homework just yet. You also haven’t been to his house for a while, after you and Korai went to different middle schools.

The two of you had no choice but to bear watching the drama since it was Kourai’s mom holding the remote even though she wasn’t there. She was in the kitchen preparing dinner, the TV acting as her radio. Manually changing the channels would have been a pointless endeavour as she could change it back easily. You remember loathing the idea of watching at the start of the episode, though you said nothing of it to not be impolite. Korai, on the other hand, knew better than to fight his mom over TV. As the minutes passed, you actually got invested in what was happening. From what you understood because of your own mother’s retellings of the episodes to you, during that time, the main couple have been sharing the same feelings for a while. A confession was always delayed because of their work, other characters getting in the way, more obstacles, and, from what younger you understood as ‘being very, very sad about themselves’. The episode that you two were watching was the one where they finally confessed.

What you remembered the most was the scene where they were at the cafe the leading lady worked at, no one else was there except for her and the male lead, waiting for her shift to end. Some chatting happens and they somehow wind up under a plant with white berries. AS you watched, you thought, why were they showing them? Those aren’t mistletoes. Your confusion was cut when the leads looked at each other, surprised, and he implied about the berries’ rule. 

Then, what occurred had you entrance. Something about the way the characters stared at each other with pure longing. The male lead stood firm and cool yet his expression is of someone who might break apart from the weight of affection he carried. That very affection was seen through his intense gaze at the female lead, whose expression was at first bashful then changed to determined.  He pours his feelings out. You don’t recall any of his words. What’s clearest memory was the leading ladies expression you can now describe as being taken aback and slowly understanding his feelings rather than just her staring blankly at him. She cupped his cheeks, confessed to him. 

Their foreheads touched, giggling together. They kissed and it didn’t look icky or weird. You can tell they are really in love.

“Waahh… Ha, ha AAAHHH~” you cheered for the two leads out of giddiness and laughed at yourself for suddenly being noisy after staying silent for so long. Kourai laughs at you too. 

“Really? That's what gets you?”

“OH C’MON! IT’S CUTE!” you cried at him. 

The laughing and wheezing was loud. Lucky for you, Korai's older brother wasn't there, otherwise it would have been more embarrassing. He would have used that to make fun of you two. From all your laughing, you weren’t quick to notice that his face was pink, slowly turning to cherry red. It was always funny how obvious it is with his white hair.

“LOOK AT YOU! YOU’RE BLUSHING TOO!” you teased, hand reached out to poke his cheek. “YOU’RE GETTING  CUTE TO! LIKE A BABY!” 

Kourai swatted you but you still kept going. It was slowly turning into a one sided pillow fight. It then turned into a tickle fight. You won, getting the chance to both poke and pinch his face.

After you sighed to stop and all the giggles were out of your stomach, you said quietly, wishfully, “I wanna do that one day”. Instantly, you regretted saying out loud, praying that Kourai did hear a word of it. Thinking back now, you sounded like a hopeless romantic, even as a young teen.

“Don’t worry,” he said, a gentleness you never saw in him before. “You’ll find someone.”

You didn’t believe him. As if he cared for love and roses. Let alone his undeniable first love of volleyball. “Really?” asked, just because. Not expecting anything.

“Yeah,” he reassured you.

As you two kept watching the episode, you wondered why the berries weren’t red.

•~•~•~•~•~•

December was a week away when your class decided to decorate the classroom for the holidays after receiving the permission of your homeroom teacher. It started as a silly joke that the class representative acknowledged, then spiralled with everyone agreeing in the sentiment of ‘yeah, that would be fun. Why not do it?’ 

The room wasn’t getting a full blown makeover for the holiday spirit, otherwise you would all be trouble. The teachers only allowed small and light decorations. The ornaments were mostly arts and crafts, but some classmates were generous enough to bring actual Christmas decor.

The entire class set everything up during lunch. The more artistic ones lead the making of cutting out snowflakes and the drawing of Christmas related objects. Many others are on the duty of sticking them over the main chalkboard frame, windows and the chalkboard at the back.

You are in the group placing the thin garland over the frames of the doors and windows, unwinding and handing each piece to your friend standing on a chair.

“Hey,” Kourai greeted as he approached. Hirugami, your classmate and his teammate, right behind him. “Where were you?” sounding a bit upset at you in an almost childlike way.

“Now, now Kourai. you don’t have to be angry that she  wasn’t with us,” said Hirugami, entering your shared classroom.

“Sorry about that. As you can see, I’m busy,” you apologise, jiggling the garland around your arms.

He huffs in defeat. Then points out, “but you’ve been busy all week.”

“Cause I need to. Exams are coming.” you move to another classmate that called you to hand over another garland, Korai follows you from behind the open hall windows.

“What are you? Studying to get into college? We still have a year for that!”

“For our current classes, obviously.” you said, walking back to your friend to give out another one, still holding the conversation, then leaning a shoulder on the door. “Speaking of, you should be too. I don’t think I’ll be able to help you with English this weekend.”

Kourai grits his teeth in irritation that you’re right and being reminded of his request. His grades weren’t bad, but he did promise his mom that he’ll do better than his last English exam result.

“Heeey! look up top guys,” a classmate calls from the other side of the room. She and the others fondly snickering at you two to themselves. “You know the rules,” another chimes in, wagging his fingers to point something above your heads. Looking up, among the christmas decor hung on the door frame, there fake red berries attach to plastic jagged shape leaves, placed on the very centre.

Kourai yells,“OI!”, at them in frustration. And it shows, his face was turning red.  You, on the other hand, are cool headed. You can’t fall for a joke when they’re wrong.

“Funny. But, no. We won’t,” you said, rolling your eyes, still keeping your position leaning on the door frame.They playfully booed at you, saying ‘you're no fun’ and ‘lighten up’. Kourai is also fast to shut them down, shoulders tensing up and a foot already passing the doorway.

A classmate teases again. “Why? Too shy?” she said, smiling at you with mischievous glee. 

You plainly state, “No. It's not even mistletoe”

“It's not?” she replied, genuinely surprised. 

“Oh yeah?” another, too, in disbelief.

“For starters, those are fake holly berries.” You point to the berries, being fixed by your friend. “Not to mention the leaves are different. If you really want to argue with me I can tell you what these berries actually are.” seeing how you're so dedicated in educating them on the plant, they don’t argue. 

But before they can tease anymore, the class rep enters and mistakes the scene as a quarrel. “Alright, stop fighting,” she calmly intervenes, though it wasn’t necessary. “Get back to work before our break time ends everyone.” And so they do, moving on to chatter on their own. 

Kourai stays since she hasn’t asked him to leave. His attention returns to you, pouting a little. It might be because he didn’t get the chance to rebuttal them. 

Curious, Kourai asks. “So, those… Those aren’t mistletoes?” Though the tension is gone, he is still a little flush on the face. 

You shook your head. “The ones we hung look more like holly berries. They always get confused with mistletoes. Real mistletoes are smaller and white. Their leaves are rounder and closer to the size of the berries too.” you explained as you helped your friend down from the chair. She moves it back to its place and leaves you and Kourai be.

He only nods, looking up to the tangling berries over the door. Kourai’s face is still stained red even after he has already calmed down. He must have felt embarrassed about the idea of kissing a friend. “How’d you know?”

“I did some research. Who would have thought? ”

“mhmm”

As he stood still, out of the blue, like the words came out as he thought, he said, “do you still wanna do it one day?” His tone suddenly became serious.

You know what he meant by ‘it’. Hosently, you aren’t sure. Adults always say that not having a relationship in your highschool years was fine, but you could hardly believe it when you have friends gushing about their boyfriends and girlfriends to you. Classmates that have significant others inside the classroom. Somehow, you feel like you're not catching on. Yet, you don’t want to just find a boyfriend for the sake of not being single. You hate to admit it, but you do dream of actually falling in love and that it's like everything you’ve watched and read, even though you know that it won’t be. 

Maybe, you can say it to Kourai. He is your friend after.

In soft confidence, staring at the shiny fake berries, you said, “yeah, I sure hope I get to.”

Then, the air was oddly empty between you two for a moment.

Kourai catches your attention by patting you behind the shoulder. “By the way, do you wanna walk to the station later, after my practice?”

You mentally go through all you should be doing today as your finger twiddle with the plastic leaves of the garland. You are staying a little later for a club meeting. If things go smoothly, it could be done early. However, it is likely that something might come up that might make you stay a little longer. Thinking that it has been a while since you walked with him to the station, you made your choice.

You smiled at him and said, “If our meeting ends early, I’ll wait outside the court.”

He smiles back. The flush on his face is no longer prominent but still present.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Already in your mid-twenties, yet your dream of kissing your beloved under a mistletoe still hasn't happened and is least likely to happen now. Nine months ago, your last boyfriend broke up with you. It wasn’t as bitter as it could have been but it still wounded your heart. You've cried out the initial hurt to your friends. Kourai was sadly the ears to hear all your woes and insecurities about it through the phone well after weeks from the split.

He says that it’s fine, but you think that you’ve shared too much of that badge and began being a bad friend. While he was telling you stories of how his games went and how silly his dog has been, most of your chatter was melodramatic ranting. Sometimes, you think he was being too nice. So you tell him you’d buy him food the next time you hang out, as compensation. In the end, he still buys you extra afterwards, nulling your efforts somewhat.

After High school, Kourai went to play volleyball professionally and you are so happy for him. You still remembered when he told you he started playing for the volleyball club. Skip to now, it became his life and it shows. You used to be a little taller than him, but now, he has built up muscle that it’s hard to call him cute just to tease him anymore. 

By December, the pain only lingered in the palette of your mood in moments you're not preoccupied. As you walk on the winter streets, you often notice the different couples spending their time together. Young couples in the honey phase of their relationship. Couples with their children, holding hands. Your brain automatically reminds you of your ex. It did make Christmas a little lonelier. It wasn’t enough to dampen you for too long, still able to pick yourself back up when you had a holiday bonus, along with nice gifts from friends. 

When new years came, you spent it with your family. Thankfully, no one ever brought up nor questioned your relationship status, all in good part that you hadn't introduced him to your parents. Save for the one instant a niece asked if you spent Christmas with your boyfriend too. The ‘too’ gave you a hint that she may have been using another taken relative, likely a girl cousin similar to your age, as a frame of reference and applying it to you. Not wanting to tarnish her early views of love or view of you, you simply admit that you are single, nothing more. Blunt as children are, she frowned and said “that's just sad.” and it hurt how genuine she sounded. 

It’s the second week of January and you don’t plan on keeping the Christmas decor in your apartment any day longer. The Holiday season has stayed long enough in your home and it's becoming an eyesore as February approaches. You have spent the past hour packing up everything. Though it wasn’t much, you weren’t in a hurry. Otherwise you’d have tired yourself out on a weekend. Another reason is because the ladder makes too much noise when you place it on the ground. It’s a hassle and you take in consideration the neighbours below you.

Right now, you're in the process of taking down the decorations on the walls and changing the curtains. First the garlands, then the red curtains. You forget how heavy they are.

As you tug the cloth down its pole, there’s knocking on the front door. 

You weren’t expecting packages this week and that wasn’t any knock you were familiar with.

You step down the ladder carefully, then rush to the door. Peaking through the small hole, He may not be facing the door completely and he has a cap on his head, but you know that side profile anyware. It’s Kourai, on his phone on one hand. 

Though excited, you hastily padded away dust and smoothed folds on your shirt, trying to appear a little well kept even in your indoor clothes. The moment the door is fully opened, you greet him a new year and rope Kourai into a tight hug. It was the first hug with him for the year and after not seeing him since he was busy with his games. He returns your enthusiasm with a squeeze. 

“It's great to see you again,” you said, happy but clearly short in breath.

He chuckles, “You too.”

“Sorry about my place, you caught me in the middle of cleaning up,” you said as you poured him tea. He didn’t seem bothered by the mess of garlands on the floor and littered boxes of decor. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one apologising? I showed up without telling you.”

“I do like surprises.”

You welcomed him in, carrying a large, red, paper bag on one hand. The conversation didn’t end and flowed like it’s only been a week since you last saw each other. ‘How are you?’, ‘how’s work?’, ‘how are your games?’ One question and another, answered and a little more. The usual banter, meandering to whatever comes up. It feels like nothing has changed between the two of you.

Maybe it was just the freshness of a new year, but you can’t help but reflect. You’ve gone through the holidays with Kourai since you were kids. He’s changed a lot and you have too. Yet, somehow, he wound up with a haircut that’s so much like the one he had as a kid. 

“Do you need help with all this?” Kourai asks, gesturing to your living room.

 You raised a brow, “are you sure? You're visiting me. It’s not a fun visit if you're breaking a sweat.”

“Don’t be shy. I know you want to get this done fast.”

And he is right.

So, he helps out. Starting with lending his hand in getting the curtains down. In just a few minutes, the Christmas tree was down and two boxes were sealed. He then helps in moving the ladder to the hallway. You begin to take down the hanging decor on the garland with full confidence to use both of your hands now with Kourai holding the ladder for you.

“You actually hanged mistletoes, huh?” he suddenly mentions, switching the conversation topic. Prioritizing packing up had you failed to realise that was the decor you were holding. The wire is so tangled you couldn’t undo it quickly, so you move to the plastic snowflakes. Handing them down to him.

You hum in agreement. “It would be such a shame for a cute ornament to not be used, don’t you think? I’d have to wait another year!” 

He laughs with you at your point.

“Did you ever get to kiss anyone under that?” he asked casually, jokingly even. 

Through an unintentionally deep sigh, you said, “no”. Your disappointment shows just a little. “Last christmas, he wasn’t around because of work out of town. I guess it was a good thing that it didn’t happen. It would have ruined mistletoes for me.” 

Kourai was quiet for a little while. He may have thought that the topic was a sore spot for you. So you tell him that it is nothing to worry about. you raised your hands to the mistletoes again, putting your full attention to undoing its wire. As you twist and bend it, Kourai snaps your focus with one question.

 “Do you wanna do it right now?”

His shift in tone surprised you. Not wanting to assume. You ask.

“Come again?”

“Do you wanna do it right now?” He repeats. “Make your wish come true? 

It catches you off guard. Quickly letting go of the mistletoe and bracing yourself to the ladder, you turn to him, looking down from your levelled height, searching for any hint that he was kidding. There isn’t. All you see is the determination that shines in his eyes you have known of him. It came with a tint of red spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To think he’d still remember that.

“You said you wanna do it with someone one day, right?”

Yes, you did. You said so back when you were in middle school. But that was a long time ago. Some middle school dreams were just not meant to be. From your speechlessness, anyone would have taken it back. He doubles down, calling you back to the present moment by saying your name like an endearment.

“I love you… and I really like you.” 

It's like you're breathless again. All too quickly, you want to believe again. You have no idea how to process this.

“Kourai… you…”

Bursting into a laugh, you hold steady on the ladder. Not at him, of course. It seems to ease him a little from how his face softens. For a second, you saw the little Kourai again. 

“Is this really how you confess to people?” you jokes and he chuckles too.

“I want to give it a try. While there's still a chance,” He changes his grip on the ladder. “You don’t need to say yes to anything that I said. Just letting you know” 

You felt it, that he put everything on the line. More than a decade of friendship. A friendship so long that you can see it in him that it's true. He loves you and it warms you like a scarf around the neck. However, knowing that he likes you too, It’s so easy for you to like him back. In fact, you may have begun to like him a long while ago. If anything, it felt right to just say ‘yes’. 

Yet, happiness came with fear.

With a gentle voice, you ask, “this won’t change much between us, right?”

Sensing your doubts, he reassures you, “I’ll love you no matter what.”

You might as well have fallen off the ladder.

As you try to lean forward to get a little closer, with a smile, truthfully, you said, “Yes. I love you too, Kourai. And I’d like to date you.” Everything now is clear as snow.

He takes a little gasp of air like taking in your answer. One sigh leads to a chuckle. If he wasn’t holding the ladder, he would have hugged you then and there.

Breathy, he said, “okay.” Pure joy seeping out.

Life feels as if it changed so much and yet things were all the same. Old things turning to something new. 

Kourai looks up above you again. You mirror him. The mistletoes still hanging.

“Do you still wanna do it?” he said. When you looked back down on him, a fresh grin is on his face.

Without question you, you nod. That’s one way to properly start it all.

You take each step a little shakey on the knees. There’s one more step down, but the excitement and nervousness has you quickly wrap your arms over Kourai's shoulders, letting yourself lightly fall forward to kiss him before he could say another word. He catches you, wrapping his arms around your torso, holding you in place as he kisses you back. He lifts you off the last step, not letting your feet touch the floor.

It might as well be December again.

When he sets you down, the kiss ends too. 

“So,” he started. The flushness on his face isn’t  as bad as it could be, just the right amount that made him look charming. “How was it?”

You brush back his white hair even though it's short. 

“Better than I could’ve ever hoped for.”

•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°~•~°

It's finally here!!! wow 2024 sure knows how to stop me from finishing fics, huh?

{taglist} @theholypeanut

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Twenty-six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk, creampie

— WORDCOUNT: 4k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

She had lobster thermidor for dinner that night cooked in a creamy brandy sauce, and tarte tatin for dessert. Tom had grilled rabbit, its soft body garnished with forget-me-nots and mushrooms as if it were being buried in a quiet little glade. They went to see The Lesson afterwards, a play by Eugène Ionesco and returned giggling and tipsy at the hotel around midnight.

They visited the Musée d’Orsay the next morning, by which time they had just another day to spare, and the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, and went to Notre Dame a second time against Tom’s protestations. They saw two more famous cafés and three rare bookshops, and in between she bought presents for Sister Silvia and Frederico — an apron in pale blue with white lace trimming and a matching pair of oven mitts for her, and a leather wallet for Fred in which she slipped several French coins and banknotes.

“He’s a numismatist,” she said with a giggle.

“Of course he is…”

“Don’t you have someone to buy presents for too, Tom?”

“Don’t be silly, of course not.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, frowning when he saw the pitying look on her face. He didn’t need to have friends to waste his money on. She was more than enough, though he wasn’t about to say it. “Come on, let’s finish this little shopping spree.”

The extent of their souvenirs was a scarf for her of red and blue silk with an oriental pattern, a book of poetry, and a pot of black ink, and while Tom did not require anything she insisted on getting him something too. It was a pair of silver cufflinks shaped like coiled snakes complete with little carven scales.

“They reminded me of you,” she shrugged, smiling as she waited for his reaction.

“How so?” Tom asked with a cocked brow. In truth, he was fairly impressed.

“Well… I was thinking of your fingers.”

“…Oh?”

“They’re so cold and thin and long, they remind me of some cold-blooded crawling creature.”

He was rendered speechless for a moment. “That’s quite the compliment,” he dryly said.

“Don’t worry, I like your hands very much,” she giggled with a playful nibble of her lip.

And once the night fell over Paris and they settled in after a long day filled with museums and bookstores she slinked atop him, hands brushing up his chest, and gently bent to kiss him. She tasted of red wine and oranges. Such romantic matters had completely slipped his mind, so preoccupied was he with what he was about to do once they returned to Rome, but the longer the kiss lingered the more easily it was for Tom to match it.

Strange, he thought, that he should have forgotten how nice it was. As if she wasn’t the same woman he’d made love to weeks ago… But he’d since come to see her differently. In his more unguarded moments, he thought of her almost like a real person, someone equal to himself. It came naturally then to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, and slowly roll them over until he was on top. She smiled into the kiss. He felt it and it filled him with a measure of pride unlike anything else even if it was such a simple, ordinary thing. Her leg rose slightly, searched for his loins, and Tom betrayed himself with a low moan. He ground himself against her and soon was rendered breathless, his mouth falling aimlessly to her neck. Her skin was soft and warm and fragrant, and so sweet beneath his tongue. Her quick breaths tickled his skin and her hands started tugging on his shirt, clumsily trying to undress him. Tom smiled and did the same, rolling her nightgown up over her thighs, her hips, her stomach, parting from her skin a moment to pull it off of her and cast it far behind.

“Tom,” she whispered, hands reaching out for him.

“Mhm… I’m here.”

He kissed her once more then hurriedly undid his nightshirt. He barely took it off before he crawled back next to her, huddling beneath the thick duvet. The radiator was turned all the way up but it hardly warmed the room. She giggled when his hands touched her, writhing under their cold grasp, but Tom wouldn’t let her go. He pulled her thighs up and around him and settled between them, then dragged his hands up her body from her hips up her ribs and her warm breasts, settling finally around her throat. He didn’t squeeze but held her gently, dipping teasingly low as if for a kiss. His lips hovered over hers and she whimpered, trying to reach him, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Why?” she complained petulantly.

Tom grinned and shook his head. “You’re lovely when you’re desperate, you know that?”

He smiled as his hands tightened teasingly around her neck and then he leaned down to give her a little peck. She groaned in displeasure and Tom couldn’t help but laugh. He enjoyed playing with her more than perhaps anything else they did… Or, almost anything. He kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers for a bit longer this time, and again, and again, coming down to feed on her despair, her need for love, for air, drinking the moans from her mouth and leaving behind only fire. His hands around her neck tightened for a moment and then they released her to suck in deep breaths while they travelled lower.

“Tom,” she whined, “you’re —”

“Shhh…” he hushed her as his large hands cupped her breasts, thumbs playing with her nipples.

“— you’re teasing me…”

“I know,” he grinned. “You enjoy it so much, don’t you? Don’t pout… I know you do.”

She pouted anyway but couldn’t hold back a smile. He laughed and kissed her again as he flicked her nipples with his thumbs, rolling them into stiff peaks, and then with the soft tips of his fingers he plucked them with quick and playful touches. She mewled against his lips, her back arching, body twisting under him, but Tom wouldn’t let her go. He ground his hips against hers, swallowed all her sighs, and played with her hard buds until he was convinced they hurt. Then he released her lips to slide a little down her body and took them in his mouth.

“Aaaahh! Tom, you beast,” she giggled, hands coming down frantically to tug at his dark locks.

He grinned and closed his mouth around her, tongue slipping leisurely around her flesh like honey pouring down. He sucked on one puckered nipple, teeth closing on her skin just slightly in the faint hint of a bite while he held the other tight between his fingers. She dug her nails into his scalp, back arching to push her breast into his warm, slick mouth, and shivered. Tom moved his kisses to the underside of her breast to lick the sweat that pooled there, and kissed and kissed his way around until his lips locked on the other bud. His tongue played across its waxy surface in a slow and noisy languish and then he kissed a path toward the centre of her chest. His lips lingered there, between her breasts where beneath a layer of skin and bone her heart was beating. He felt it on his lips, the rhythm seeping into him, melding with his own. Then he kissed a little higher, higher, reaching her warm neck, her chin, her lips again, and stayed there. Her fingers played with his hair, twirling, curling, scraping gently, then slipping to his nape. He smiled at the slow caresses, purring like a kitten.

Tom wrapped his arms around her, one around her waist to tilt her hips, the other at her back to cradle her, and gently moved his hips. She bit her lip, eyes lidded from his promises of pleasure, and clung so tightly to him her nails were threatening to pierce his skin. He smiled gently down at her, drinking in the sight in the faint darkness while underneath his hardened cock licked a dirty path across her thigh. He brought his lips down low enough to touch hers when he slotted it above her mound, then dragged it nice and slow over her clit.

“Do you like that?” he whispered, his lips pulled into a tense, smug smile. “Hmm? Do you?”

“You know I do,” she whined. “Please, Tom, I need it…”

“Shhh… There, there,” he cooed, leaving little kisses on her cheek. “You’ll get it, don’t worry your little head about that…”

“It’s you who has the little head,” she growled with a needy grinding of her hips. “Now give it to me or you’re sleeping on the floor tonight.”

“So mean to me you might not get anything at all…”

“You wouldn’t dare!” she whined.

Tom chuckled and looked fondly down at her sweaty and flushed face. Her suffering was unfailingly sweet, and he stoked it further when he started canting his hips back and forth, rubbing his hot length across her nub, slathering it with their mix of wetness.

“Alright, my darling,” he whispered, letting his breath fan across her skin, “stop being such a brat…”

Tom nibbled at her neck and his hand released her hip, palm already damp with sweat, and soon she felt a hint of flesh rubbing at her hole as he held his cock there. She whispered pleas into his shoulder and dug her nails in deep, her legs tight around him, temptingly pulling him lower. He arched his hips and pressed up into her, and with a stifled moan felt her body open up around him. The breath froze in his lungs and he couldn’t take his eyes away from her shadowed, sweaty, blushing, messy face. Her tight hole was pressed into a suckling kiss around his tip, resistant at first, then throbbing, pulsing, and finally relaxed… He pressed again and sunk in deeper, her channel welcoming, warm and dripping, sucking him inside. Her breath shivered wonderfully and she clung to him, pulling him closer by the waist while Tom still held his breath. He closed his eyes, stilled his hips, and braced his arms beside her, dizzy with the sense of being so intensely wanted.

“Tom,” she whispered, one hand going up to brush through his hair, “P-please, move… I need you so much…”

He nodded and sighed and it was as if his heart started beating again. He pressed in harder, angling his hips and canting gently forward, in and in and in to the intoxicating sound of her moans. His hands cupped her bare torso, elbows dug into the bed as he plugged her with his cock.

Tom swallowed the vulnerable sound that bubbled up inside him, his head falling sapless and heavy to nuzzle at her throat. She was everywhere around him now. Her soft body swallowed up his cock, her plush folds kissed his sac, her legs and arms held him to her and her blood flowed close and hot beneath his lips. His eyes opened, seeing nothing in the cradle of her throat and her wild hair, but he let himself drink in the feeling, that dizzying need for her.

She kissed his cheek, her hips arching encouragingly. “So good… my Tom,” she smiled. “Make me feel so full… I love it… I love you…”

He bit her neck and groaned, his heart and mind aflutter, not knowing how else to react to the maddening things she said. His thrusts turned harder, faster, punishing her almost, and beneath the heavy duvet, he could hear the wet slapping of his sac against her folds. She giggled at the feeling of his teeth and dragged her nails across his skin, her mirth interrupted by gasps with every hard shove of his cock. It almost seemed to him like she didn’t take this seriously at all…

“Turn around,” he growled all of a sudden and grabbed her by the throat.

She barely had time to react when Tom lifted himself from her body and turned and twisted her until she was lying on her front.

“Aaah! W-why?”

“On your knees. You know that’s how you want it.”

The duvet fell away in the motion to cover just their legs but neither she nor Tom could care. The midnight coolth no longer bothered them. Her warm body was covered by his, manoeuvred by his hurried movements to bend her knees beneath her, bow her back, and pin her arms above her head. She cried out when Tom entered her again, his cock still wet with her and hard and reaching further than he had before. While one hand kept her wrists fixed to the pillow the other snaked down to hold her and cup her tummy.

“Oh fuck,” Tom sighed, his forehead resting in the sweaty crook of her neck, “I can feel myself inside you… right here,” he said with a gentle pressure of his fingers that made her keen and moan.

His movement turned slow and languid as he kept the pressure on her womb. She could feel him too and so much more intimately than before. His breath warmed her nape, his fingers tangled among hers, and he covered her whole body. But then he started moving faster, almost angry, taking her with a hunger she’d never seen from him before. She whimpered into the pillow, half pleasure and pain, while Tom held her down and took her. His hand moved up from her stomach up to cup her breast, his fingers catching the hard nipple and squeezing it as if it could yield milk. The snapping of his hips jolted her whole body forward, made her entrance swollen hot from the abuse, and across her back, their sweat mixed was together to flow in little rivulets. Her legs shifted on the bed and her hips squirmed, and it wasn’t even clear to him if she was trying to move away from him or draw him closer.

“Aaaaahhh… Tom, that’s… please… more…”

Well, that answered it.

“What is it?” he whispered in her ear, a strained smile in his voice. “What do you want?”

“My… my…” She bit into her arm, too shy to speak. Tom laid fast kisses on her jaw, coaxing her to say it. “My… clit…” she muttered with a heated flush that billowed across her face.

“Mmm… What about it?” he grinned, slowing his hips to hear her better.

“T-touch it…? Please?”

He chuckled, his voice already a bit tired. He brought his fingers low enough to touch her but withdrew and started tracing soothing circles on her mound that strayed toward her folds.

“Toooom!” she whined. “Not like that!”

“Then how?” he asked with a smirk.

“Y-you know how…”

“Do I indeed?” he teased as his body settled over hers, pressing her down into the bed and his teeth nipping at her ear. “You want this little button touched? You like it when I play with it, don’t you?”

“You know I do,” she muttered, her breath suspended with hope.

“Are you going to cum if I touch it?”

“Y-yes,” she whispered in the pillows, her voice warbling with excitement. “I think I will anyway, but…”

“But you want it.”

“I do…”

“Greedy… A greedy girl, with a greedy… sweet… little… clit…”

She inhaled sharply when he finally touched her. His finger hovered over the tip of her clit so faintly she could barely feel it but she could. He was as deep inside her as he could reach, his cock plugging her up, but she somehow pressed herself further onto him just to feel him touch her in the way she wanted.

“Oh, not so little anymore,” Tom chuckled, his other hand wrapping around her neck to pull her face out of the pillow, making sure she heard him. His finger moved in gentle circles around and around her nub. “It’s gotten so swollen… So full… You like that?”

She nodded languidly, her hair already a tangled mess with sweat and tears matting its edges. Tom started thrusting once again, going from a slow canting of the hips to a hard pounding.

“Like that?” he asked, his voice lower, more exerted, and happy.

“Yes,” she sighed, “yes, yes, yes…”

He let go of her neck to grip the headboard and his back bent as he strained to take her harder. She lay prone and opened up, her body sapless and supine and completely under his control. He pulled wetness out of her in heavy dollops and dirtied her soft thighs, and around him, he could feel her twitching, little hole closing up against his hungry battering.

“Tom!” she cried, turning her head to rest her cheek against the pillow. “P-please, I… I’m almost…”

“That’s it, good girl,” he whispered as he flicked her clit a little faster. He rested his forehead against her back to look down at the both of them, at his body forcing itself into hers. “Cum for me… You promised you would.”

She whined plaintively and trembled underneath his body, her channel clinging hotly to his cock, and her thick drops of desire licked a slow path down his thigh. Tom thrust deeper and held there, swallowing back the primitive urge to call her sweet names and coax her, to coo in her ear like a lover.

“Relax for me,” he whispered, “make a mess, you know you want to… Isn’t that right? When I touch you like this, isn’t that what you want to do?”

His fingers strummed her clit and slathered it with her own juices, straying now and then to clutch his sac and keep control a little longer. She whined and squirmed beneath him, her body trying to twist but having no space to. He could taste her sweat, her sighs in the cold air, her desperation. When she started begging him again Tom chuckled and scraped across her clit with his nail, just enough to make her gasp and jump.

“Please, Tom!”

“Please what?”

“I… I need you…”

“I know you do,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “Cum for me… Let me feel you do it…”

Her moans grew muffled again as she bit into her arm at his sweet encouragement. Tom stayed still inside her, his hips flush with her ass, his full sac pressed against her lips, and as he filled her he kept circling her clit, flicking it and teasing it until she shattered. A high and fragile sound came out of her, pleasured, pleading, and exhausted. Her body tensed beneath him, around him, and he almost came as well at the feeling of her channel sucking on his cock. He kept up working on her nub, rubbing it to overstimulation until she could take no more.

“S-stop!” she gasped.

“Not yet.”

“Tom, please…”

“You can take a bit more,” he whispered, “can’t you? I know you can… You’re a good girl, I know you can…”

A full shiver ran down her body at the pet name and she buried her face deeper in the pillow as if to hide from him. Tom let her catch her breath, his lips leaving a trace of little kisses down her spine, but then he started thrusting into her again with slow deep movements, growing faster, more frantic, slapping loud and wet against her folds. His fingers left her clit and went a little lower, down to where she was all stretched around him. Her back arched sharply and she raised her head to gasp when she felt him tease that taut, sticky, feverish hole that was forced wide around him.

He felt himself getting closer, his loins aflame, his heart quite frantic, and the urge to call her sweet things grew within his mind. He silenced his lips with a dull kiss against the crown of her head while he pumped himself inside her, knees slipping clumsily against the bed. His tip brushed against her cervix with every thrust and with relentless greed, he pressed against her entrance until he could slip his finger in beside his cock. He didn’t slow when she began to beg that it was too much, nor when her hand reached back to drag against his ass and scratch him. He let her hug the pillow to her chest, comforting herself, while he brought himself over the edge with her.

“Tom,” she cried out, “I’m… it’s… ah!”

“Yeah, good girl,” he praised her, “show me again. You’re going to cum again for me, aren’t you?”

She said nothing but from her plaintive moan and the way her legs began to shake, he knew it.

“Cum with me,” said Tom, his whispers hot in her ear. “I love what you do with that sweet little… m-mouth when — fuck!”

It felt as if he was out of his body, out of his mind, above her in a way that was more than physical. His cock kicked and throbbed inside her, hugged tightly by her flesh, and his sac contracted such that his breath ran out of him. He pressed his finger against that spongy spot he knew she loved and she cried out for him just as he poured himself inside her. His hand tightened around her neck while hers clung to the pillow. His heavy seed pooled at her cervix and from there started seeping out again, slowly, down his length to drip out of her hole. She screamed in a lovely, lustful way, and Tom out of pure instinct held her thin neck tighter — not squeezing, not to silence her, but to feel her shouts of pleasure melded with his name against his skin, running up his blood, falling to his heart.

“My little darling,” he rumbled, “sweet and warm and mine, mine, mine… My good girl… my favourite…”

It broke a whole insipid part of him to call her such sweet names, pulled something out of him that wasn’t there. Wasn’t supposed to be there. Beneath him he felt her softly melting, relaxing for perhaps the first time in an hour. She stretched her limbs much like a sated cat and rested her head sideways, her eyes closed and a smile growing on her lips. Tom’s breath rushed out of him, his muscles singing, sighing with relief. He started pulling himself out of her, a slow and sticky drag, but then she whined.

“No,” she muttered, reaching behind again to grip him. “Stay inside of me…”

“Naughty,” he chuckled. “What am I to do with you?”

But he did exactly as she wanted. He eased himself onto his side and moved her with him, taking care to leave his softening member in her clenching core. She purred happily and nuzzled back, her hips shifting until she found a comfortable position, then pulled onto the duvet to tuck them in again. Tom helped her and soon they were snuggled and warm, her back stuck to his chest, his leg laying lazily above her own, and his hands at her waist.

“Tired?” he whispered.

“Mhm…”

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm…”

He chuckled, feeling exhaustion catching up with him as well. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worked up such a sweat.

“I’m sorry if I was mean to you.”

“You were,” she whispered. “You snake… You knew what you were doing.”

“Is that so? And what was that?”

“You know. With your fingers.”

“Yes?”

“You know what I… what I like…”

Tom smiled as he petted her tummy and softly whispered soothing spells. She curled her knees up, sighing with contentment, and slowly her breathing evened. He could tell she was falling asleep. His heart by then was still beating quite quickly, his body naked and murky with sweat, thighs filthy, hands filled with her, but his mind was oddly at peace. He fell asleep soon after her and held her through their dreams.

[spicyhotteokkay]

JONGHO FLUFF

My first drabble! I am still not fully confident in my writing abilities, so any feedback is deeply appreciated. Hopefully you guys like this and thank you for reading if you do! ❤️

TW:none, besides me involving my weird fear of storms

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were fine, stuck inside of your claustrophobic house due to a horrible and irrational fear of storms. What you weren’t fine with was that you were scared shitless every time you saw a lightning strike or heard the thunder clap. It made you whimper like a defenseless child. It wasn’t so bad until your best friend heard you on the phone and told you to stay there and wait, then promptly hung up. You were hopeful he was just going to call you back. Nope.

You were surprised when he actually showed up at your door twenty minutes later soaked to the bone.

“You don’t look happy to see me, Bear,” Jongho mumbled to you as he carefully made his way past you. You just stood there confused, until a loud clap startled you and your response was to squeal and drop.

“Bear, come on. Let's warm up. I’ll take a quick shower and we’ll sit and cuddle with some TV, okay?” He was gently trying to get you on your feet. He did, but you didn’t talk as he was guiding you around your house. “Words, Bear…”

“Oh, right, sorry, I’m just gonna go get changed and get you some clothes,” you mumble and slither away to your room, only to hear him sigh and start the shower shortly after.

It helped that you had secretly stolen a bag worth of clothes from your best friend every time you went to his place. He would also spend days in a row with you, so he had a small set of drawers in your apartment. You wore his clothes more often than your own. You then changed into a pair of his boxers and a university sweater, one he'd been searching for for months, but it was perfectly oversized on you, so you had decided that it was yours. Next, you grabbed a change of clothes and towel for Jongho and carefully brought them to the bathroom. You knocked quietly “Here are some clean clothes, Big Bear. I’ll put your clothes in the washer,” you say and carefully set everything down. “Thank you love, I’m about to be done in a second,” he replied gratefully.

You didn’t even think about it when you left, but when you started the laundry, the specific name he used in place of ‘Bear’ made your core flutter. You developed a crush on Jongho when he helped you find a place after you graduated college. He had even paid his friends to help you move and made sure you weren’t more than ten minutes away from him and his roommate Yeosang.

Yeosang quickly realized what was going on with you two. To make sure that you didn't put out signs ofn your very obvious crush on Jongho before you were ready to, he'd discreetly snap his fingers at you when you'd been staring too long.. ‘What if he actually felt the same?’, thoughts going miles a minute, reliving every little memory and detail of your current relationship with him. ‘He isn’t normally affectionate,’ you thought. ‘Yeosang said Jongho is only really like that with me? Either that, or Yeosang was teasing me again.’

Pouting and not even thinking about the fact your crush was in your house, you didn’t realize he was calling for you until his arms hugged you from behind. “Bear, what’s up?” He asked as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“Huh? Oh nothing… I was just thinking about something silly.” Pouting, he saw and stayed quiet, knowing he’d get it out of you later. He then quietly pulled you onto the couch with him so you could watch TV together. He left for a moment, only to come back after grabbing three of your favorite blankets. He sat down and situated himself before wrapping one blanket around himself, then he's pulling you into his side and tucking you with the second. Finally, he laid the third over both of you and turned on your favorite show: Abyss.

“You finally let your guard down and wore my sweater I've been looking for,” he chuckled. If it wasn’t for the fact he actually caught you, the chuckle would’ve made you whine in protest. You mumbled a quiet “fuck you,” to which he laughed at even more. “Bear, at this point I don’t know why you don’t just tell me you're gonna take it, you know I can’t tell you no..” he pointed out. You just nodded, enjoying the moment. That is, until the universe decided to reign terror on you again as the thunder shook your house. Jumping, you somehow bury yourself further into his hip and wrap your arms around him.

Your body decided to hate you as well, subconsciously whimpering once you heard another loud clap. “Bear, you gotta breathe slowly.” He wraps his arms around your shrinking frame and rubs circles on your back, trying his best to comfort you without making you any more uncomfortable. If only he knew that’s what you wanted… “I’m sorry, I just hate this,” you shakily whispered out. He sighed and carefully pushed you away from clinging on him. You pouted for fear he was going to kick you off of him, but he shocked you by holding your chin and cupping your face instead. “Look at me, Bear…”

Looking up with the biggest possible doe eyes, you do as he says. You barely paid any attention to the next clap of thunder and flash of lightning because your brain short circuited from how close Jongho held your face to his own. “That’s my good girl,” he smirked softly and gave you the softest peck.

The final thing you got out of today was a somewhat overcome fear of storms and your now boyfriend, who you learned had liked you for just as long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @lunarrobotgirl @yuyubeans @yuyusuyu @bethelighthalazia @ja3hwa

[literallydonesstuff]

Still part two but Drew’s POV kinda*

🎀🎀🎀

He knew this was silly. I mean what was he doing at a university campus?

Drew tugged at his baseball hat lower over his eyes as he walked across the quad, trying not to look like some guy with absolutely no business being there. He’d already told himself he was just there to “visit a friend in the MBA program.” Except there was no friend. That was the line he’d practiced in his head about twenty times, just in case he saw her and needed an excuse in order to not sound like an absolute weird stalker.

The truth was way more pathetic.

He should’ve left Boston a week ago. His schedule was clear, his flights were booked, but something (or someone) had made him stay a little longer. The coffee girl. The one with the pretty curls and striking eyes and energy that caught him off guard. She’d been stuck in his head ever since then, and he hated that he didn’t even know her name.

Drew had thought about asking his uncle- just casually if he could find a certain girl and pass a message but he dismissed that. That would’ve been ridiculous. His uncle would’ve made it a whole thing and soon his entirely family would know he had some random crush on a student. Maybe if this method didn’t work he could try that, but for now he was going to try finding her.

So there he was, trying his luck on a random Thursday afternoon, hoping the universe would cut him some slack and let him run into her again.

As he crossed the quad, he tried not to look too obvious, his eyes darted over every face he passed. Soon after, his “disguise” proved useless when a group of girls approached him in recognition and he decided to take photos and talk to his fans like they wanted. He always appreciated his supporters and made time for them but right now? he really just wanted to find her. For a moment he felt dumb- what were the chances he’d actually find her? This wasn’t a movie where things just magically worked out.

And then he saw her.

She was standing there frozen already looking at him. She looked so pretty and comfortable in her sweatshirt and pants, her hair catching the sunlight in a way that made his heart beat faster and his palms sweaty and before he could stop himself, his feet were already walking to her.

Drew tried to act as casual as possible. Like he wasn’t there just for her.

“Wait, is that you?” he called out like he hadn’t been imagining this moment for weeks.

She blinked and for a second, he thought she might turn around and walk the other way. But then her lips parted and he saw the same recognition, the same curiosity.

“Yeah it’s me”, she said, and just like that, the universe didn’t seem so random anymore.**

🎀🎀🎀

If you read allat give feedback please. Tyyy💋

[33max]

Thank you to everyone that participated, we managed to bring twenty two wonderful pieces of fic/art into the world!

Please show the authors/artists some love for all of their efforts, comments and kudos make everyone’s day ♥️

All you need is love and some cats by Astron03

“I think Teddy is finally getting used to the flat.”

One sentences was enough to completely break Daniel's world.

A story of misunderstandings and some olympic level jumping to conclusions.

Comfortable in chaos by winhighmaintenancemachines

Max and Lewis know the terms that they both deal in, the choices they make every day. Their whole world is walking on a spider’s thread.

Or, the NICU doctor/nurse au.

De Sebly (Part 2) by @miesgaga

Most people only meet one soulmate goose with a connection to them. Soulmates were sometimes romantic and sometimes platonic. Family bonds happen too, but those were rare.

Max met his goose, fell in love and felt like his life couldn't get better.

This is not that story.

Max meets his second goose, this is that story.

GBB Server Exchange by anangelwillfly

Headspins by @albertparks

“I do have feelings for someone else though.” Max’s comment breaks Daniel from his thoughts. “I broke up with her because of it.”

Daniel’s gobsmacked at first, before saying, “Who is she, Maxy?”

It’s a poor attempt at a joke, but now it’s his turn to be nosey, to put his beak in business that isn’t his. Max has never been single for long, he can’t imagine now would be any different.

Except Max says, “It’s a man. And it doesn’t matter.”

I don’t get much sleep most nights (I’m seeing you in every dream) by @enjoythebutterflies

In the real world, Max is well-versed in breaking more than just records.

The one where Max and Daniel dream.

in paper rings by @thewindowatkirkland

"Maxy I would fly to Vegas with you tomorrow and pay some guy dressed as Elvis to marry us. I don't care about any of this crap, I don’t care about anything other than you being happy and us being married. I thought you wanted all this, but if you don’t, then fuck it all."

And Max just has to kiss him, hard and fast and certain before he says "okay, let's fucking do it. Let's go, tomorrow. just me and you and a fake Elvis."

OR: after a ten year engagement and with an extravagant wedding all planned out, they decide to elope to vegas instead.

It was written in the stars, but you erased it by @formula-maxiel

Max was twelve when his father had his soul mark removed. He had no idea how much anguish it would cause him.

Let me guide you by @waddlingpenguin

Max learns something about himself.

Daniel is more than happy to indulge.

listen to the slow parts by winhighmaintenancemachines

Neither Max or Daniel are the one to find the baby. That honor belongs to Christian, and Christian alone.

lock it up by @33max

Max is in their bed frantically humping a pillow that he’s folded in half. He’s shoved his little dick into the crease of it and he’s rabbiting his hips, he’s not got the equipment to properly thrust – if he pulled his hips back too far his cock would slip out of the fold.

the meaning of a flower by @meecamille

silly cute fluffy stuff led me to flowershop and hopeless romantic boys.

of angels and demons by @shitferraristrategy

Daniel loves to corrupt his little angel~ <3

platinum trophy by togenkyo

Fame, fortune, fortitude: For the man who has everything, what's left?

postcards from the past by @thatsapodium

I’ll send you another postcard soon. Miss you, love Max

A selection of postcards from the time Max backpacks across Australia.

Punch it! by @stardust-speedway6

An animatic of Lando and Max.

Max admonishes a punching bag.

Static by @chaoticzoomies

Walking into the Red Bull garage that Friday something felt off but Max couldn't put his finger on it. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling but just slightly off kilter, like someone had shifted things a few centimetres to the left. As he rounded the corner to the operations desk it clicked.

stay in for the summer (it's quiet, i'm trying) by @33and3

Take me to the Water by @fricative-pharyngiale

Still, he yearned for more, for everything Daniel could give him and then the rest too, his greediness all-consuming until it was all he could feel. He wanted to be the muse of every song Daniel wrote, so that they would be immortalised together. He wanted to take his poet to the river and drown him in his waters, keeping him close forever. He wanted to let his body liquefy so Daniel could drink him entirely, not a single drop left behind. He wanted to drain him of his blood and replace it with water from his river so they’d be the same, always.

A series of vignettes about nymph Max and his poet

The Tale of Max Verstappen by @danielfuckingricciardo

During the summer break, Max and Daniel take a trip to the Lake District to spend some time together alone.

When Max suggests they visit the Beatrix Potter museum, Daniel is only happy to take him on a date and treat him to a gift.

until I hear it from you by @fourmula1

DeuxMoi (also stylized Deuxmoi or @/deuxmoi) is a pseudonymous Instagram account which publishes celebrity gossip.

with the right amount of sugar by flyingkageyama

Max only wanted to find solace in one of the coffee shops he knew was a few miles away from campus, he didn’t expect one of the employees with a crappy drawing of a honey badger on his name tag to come try and get him to talk about his problems.