#i just think the story was pretty weak for what it could have been

[okaylikeschaewon]

Hotter-N-Funner

~10k words, Roommates series, smut, Part 1 here

“... part of a punishment.”

“She did what?!” Mint shouted through the door right before a thundering crash echoed in the room.

“Mint? You alright?!” you called out, holding your ear to the door. “Mint?”

“Yeah, all good!” Mint’s disheveled voice came through. After a couple of seconds, he opened the door, rubbing his hip. “I fell.”

“You fell in the toilet?”

“Not in the toilet you idiot,” Mint shoved your shoulder. “So, tell me, how the fuck did you manage that on the first date?”

“A bit of an odd story honestly,” you started.

“How odd could it be?” Mint asked while grabbing a bag of chips off the counter. “Sounds like a simple case of another college hoe being horny.”

“Be nice,” you scolded him. “She’s actually really sweet. No jokes like that when she stops by.”

“She’s coming over?” Mint gasped through a handful of chips. “I can’t even remember the last girl you’ve had over.”

“I mean it,” you snatched the bag out of his hands and took a chip for yourself. “I really like this girl, I want to see where it goes.”

“Do you actually like her or do you just like that she’s hot as fuck?” Mint asked while he took another chip from the bag as you held it out for him. “What about that bartender you’ve been chatting up?”

“I don’t know man. I don’t think she’s actually interested in a serious relationship anyway, even if I did want that. I’m happy just being friends,” you replied. “But back to this girl, seriously, I had such a good time with her. And sure, it helps that she’s hot as fuck.”

“Yeah of course you had a good time with her sucking-”

“Stop it,” you gave Mint’s arm a little shove. “That’s the one part I kinda regret.”

“Regret? The fuck?” Mint cocked his eyebrows. “Head game that weak?”

“No, that definitely wasn’t the problem,” you sighed. “I just like… almost feel like we robbed ourselves of having a really special first time… does that make sense?”

“No.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled as you picked up a couple of dirty glasses from the table.

“Here,” Mint took the glasses from your hands. “Of course I get what you’re saying, and you already know I support whatever decision you wanna make. Just tell me though, why do you think this girl’s so special already?”

“Well,” you began before pausing to think for a moment. “One could argue the coffee date and even what happened in the bathroom was kinda forced-”

“You don’t say?” Mint dramatically gasped, feigning shock.

“But lunch wasn’t,” you continued, ignoring his theatrics. “And it went fucking perfectly, we just meshed so well, I swear I could talk to her for hours. The vibe, her energy, everything was just so… when I think about her right now, I think about lunch, not the coffee shop.”

“Sounds like my roommate’s in love already,” Mint teased. “Devil’s advocate, she was just using you for the free meal.”

“She paid for it.”

“You let her pay? That’s not like you.”

“Not exactly,” you elaborated. “We were hitting it off pretty well and the idea of me treating her to dinner sorta came up, so she snuck off to the bathroom and did the whole pay behind your back thing.”

“This might be the most unbelievable part of the story,” Mint chuckled. “Why the hell would she do that?”

“Obviously I don’t know for sure, but this is why I’m telling you I feel like there’s something more here,” you explained. “She could have easily done her punishment and then left, or even taken the free lunch and then left, but I think her logic was if I’m treating her to dinner later that she should take care of lunch.”

“Hmm,” Mint pondered for a moment. “Maybe you’re right about there being something here, and maybe she feels the same way. That would explain why she doesn’t want to make it seem like she’s using you for a meal.”

“I hope so, guess I’ll find out more tonight.”

“You like her enough to give up your fuck buddy? I doubt she’d be cool with you having one.”

“Absolutely, even after just one date with her.”

“That’s crazy, you’d actually throw away what you have?”

“I mean, she’s graduating this year anyway, how many more times am I realistically going to fuck her?” you considered your options. “Girl’s a damn genius and beautiful, she’ll be fine without me.”

“You’re losing her roommate, too,” Mint added jokingly.

“Damn,” you muttered under your breath with a smirk, thinking back to some wild nights. “I kinda forgot about that part.”

“Not so easy anymore, is it?” Mint teased.

“It’s fine, seriously Mint, I haven’t felt this way about a girl since Rina,” you replied. “But it’s also way too early, I’ve known this girl for less than a day.”

“What, you haven’t started picking baby names yet?”

“First I have to work on making the babies.”

“I hope she’s good at that part, otherwise you’re throwing away an absolute dime piece for nothing,” Mint laughed.

“Or, hear me out, I just won’t make it official until next year. That way I’m still clear until Sana graduates.”

“You realize half the guys at this school would literally kill to have what you have going on, and you’re here playing games?”

“I had my fun with her, I guess I’ll be doing half the school a favor by moving on.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re an absolute fuckboy?” Mint scoffed. “Sana is not just a toy for you to use.”

“Once or twice, I think,” you chuckled. “What was the first time again? When I brought that one girl back last year?”

“Oh yeah, the one with the massive rack, right? She was so fucking fit, can’t lie, I was pretty jealous of that one.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I still think about her to this day. She’s really the one who got away.”

“Maybe if you didn’t decide to fuck her best friend, she wouldn’t have gotten away,” Mint burst out laughing as he snatched the bag of chips back. “Absolute idiot.”

“I was drunk.”

“Not an excuse,” Mint kept laughing.

“She was drunk!”

“Even if we accept that excuse - which we don’t,” Mint began shaking his head. “How do you justify the second time?”

“We were horny,” you shrugged.

“Idiot,” Mint chuckled. “The roommate had a cute smile though, I don’t entirely blame you.”

“Yeah, what was her name again?”

“Bro, you’re the one who slept with her,” Mint shook his head in disbelief, laughing at you. “It started with an ‘N’.”

“‘N”? Shit, I really got nothing.”

“Fuckboy,” Mint sang, before gasping. “Wait, should I be concerned about your roommate fetish?”

“Yeah, lock your door when you sleep,” you said casually while cleaning up some dishes left on the coffee table. “Mind helping me? I don’t want Zuha to get the wrong idea.”

“Fuck, even her name is hot.”

“Idiot,” you tossed an empty can at him.

“I know she’s pretty and all,” Mint began helping you clean up. “But seriously? I can’t remember a single time you’ve cleaned up just for a girl. Now that I think about it, you almost never bring them back to our room.”

“Not almost never. Never, not after Rina,” you replied as you fixed the pillows on the couch. “We have any Febreze left?”

“Yeah, in my room,” Mint answered as he tidied up. “Promise me one thing though.”

“What’s up?” you asked as you walked back into the living room.

“If you’re going into this one with serious intentions, promise me you’ll take it slower this time,” Mint responded. “You know I don’t give a shit what you do with your random hookups, but this isn’t a random hookup.”

“Is this because of Rina?” you asked as you casually sprayed ‘Ocean Mist’ into the air. “I told you, I’m all good with that situation.”

“I know you are,” Mint replied. “It’s just that sometimes when you climb too high too fast, the fall ends up being a lot harder.”

“Alright Socrates, relax.”

“Seriously bro, you know I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know,” you gave Mint a tight hug. “I really appreciate you, thank you.”

“And her name was Nayeon, you idiot.”

—

“Oh,” you gasped, louder than intended, caught off guard by how stunning Kazuha’s figure looked in her skirt and jacket.

“I’m not overdressed am I? I know you mentioned it was a casual place, I can quickly go change if-”

“You look stunning, I love how it brings out your smile.”

“Oh, thank you,” Kazuha turned away slightly, blushing profusely.

It could not be any more obvious that she was nervous.

“Please, come in,” you opened the door wide and stepped aside, a rush of warmth flowing through your body. Kazuha gracefully stepped into your room, leaving you admiring her long, slender legs with each step. She paused ever so slightly as she walked past you before looking around your room. “Have a seat, I’ll be right there.”

Kazuha nodded before stepping across the room and taking a seat on your couch, placing her small black purse on the side table. You quickly stepped into the kitchen and placed two flutes on the counter before filling them generously with champagne and walking over to Kazuha.

“Thank you,” Kazuha respectfully accepted the glass with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, taking a seat next to her.

The two of you took a sip together before placing your glasses to the side. For a moment, she simply stared at you, smiling nervously. Without speaking, you slid your body closer before wrapping your arm around the back of the couch behind Kazuha’s body.

“You smell really nice,” Kazuha commented, leaning forward into you slightly.

“Do I?” you replied, tilting your head slightly.

“Yeah,” she mumbled softly right in front of your lips as she closed her eyes.

The world around you began to gracefully fade away, leaving just you and Kazuha in a shared moment of pure intimacy. Your lips met, gentle at first, a tender brush sending a spark through your body, before gradually becoming more passionate. You found yourself losing yourself in Kazuha’s warmth as your lips pressed deeper against hers.

While the kiss, slow and lingering, continued, your hand found its way to Kazuha’s thigh where it softly pressed against her soft skin. Your other hand fell from the back of the couch to the back of Kazuha’s neck. You savored each moment of closeness, that delightful hint of strawberry inundating your brain with a warm sweetness. Her hand gently made its way to yours, her delicate fingers softly intertwining with your own. The tenderness of your fingers lacing together amplified the connection - invoking a deeper sense of comfort, grounding you in the moment.

Instinctively, your bodies pulled closer, your hand slid down from Kazuha’s neck to the middle of her back, while her arm snaked underneath yours to wrap around your body. The hold you had on each other tightened while remaining tender, a subtle dance of intimacy with your bodies as your mouths stayed glued to each other’s lips.

Finally, the two of you break apart the kiss, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. No words were shared, just an intense gaze as your eyes locked, turning the connection electric. For just a moment, the silence of your feelings was being taken in, the squeeze of Kazuha’s fingers against your body was all you felt.

Then, suddenly, she let go of your body as both of her hands grabbed your face while her lips collided against yours. Initially, you were pushed back by the sudden fierce urgency, but then with equal hunger and desperation you found your strength - now it was Kazuha’s turn to fall backwards.

The kiss was an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions, blurring your senses until you found yourself with your hands on Kazuha’s hips as her back hit the couch. She spread her legs, making room for you to move even closer as your body nestled into hers, still with electricity and passion flowing through the kiss.

With audacious intrepidity, you slipped a hand up Kazuha’s skirt, resting it against the side of her soft upper thigh. She gasped into your mouth, but she didn’t pull away - in fact, she did the opposite. She curled her fingers into your hair, pulling you even closer somehow, your bodies colliding, a testament to your shared passion, urging you to keep going.

Everything just felt right. This kiss felt right. Kazuha felt right. Your brain was desperately trying to make sense of your heart right now, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion that you wanted, needed, Kazuha. Nothing else made sense, the connection was too compelling. Then, you finally pulled away, leaving Kazuha breathless and wide-eyed, you could really feel the fire that the two of you just shared. Your heart was racing, beating out of your chest as you smiled down at Kazuha who was smiling back.

“I should have asked earlier, but you eat sushi, right?” you asked as you sat back up.

“Of course, I love sushi,” she answered, still breathing heavily.

“Perfect, you’ll love this place,” you replied, helping her sit up by taking her hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, one second,” she paused, reaching for her glass of champagne and downing it. “Ready!”

—

“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, who woulda thought our day would end up like this?” Kazuha smiled as she picked up another piece of otoro.

“Breakfast is a wild thing to say.”

“Oh my God,” Kazuha choked, laughing at your reference once she understood what you meant.

“Sorry, that was probably inappropriate.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, taking a sip of her sake. “If anything, I’m surprised we’ve almost gotten through two meals without bringing it up.”

“Was I supposed to? I can’t say I’ve ever had an experience like that before,” you chuckled, taking a sip of sake as well.

“Trust me, it was new for me as well,” Kazuha replied. “I’m really enjoying spending the day with you.”

“I want to be completely honest with you, I really like you, a lot,” you started cautiously. “I know it’s super early, but I just feel something so special with you.”

“I really like you a lot, too,” Kazuha smiled warmly, showing you that smile, the one that absolutely melted your heart. “It doesn’t feel like the first day, it feels like we’ve been dating for a while already.”

“In a way, this is sort of the third date.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” she giggled before turning slightly more serious. “So then, can I be honest with you for a second?”

“Of course you can, anything at all,” you replied warmly, leaning forward slightly to show her you were fully engaged.

“I promise it’s not because of attraction, because I really am attracted to you, but I sorta regret what happened in the bathroom this morning.”

“Oh my God, me too!” you couldn’t control your excitement. “Sorry, please finish what you were going to say.”

“It’s just that… it’s going to sound a bit stupid, so please don’t make fun of me for it,” Kazuha began blushing. “I almost feel like I ruined a special moment?”

“I swear if I had a ring I’d be on my knees right now, I thought the exact same thing!”

“Really?” her eyes lit up, making her the most pure and beautiful girl in the world in your mind. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since lunch, I wish we could have found each other without the stupid punishment.”

“Look, Zuha,” you reached your hand forward and gently took hers. “It happened, but we can move on from that. I think you’re very special, I’d love nothing more than to see this out properly if you’re also willing.”

“I am,” she smiled softly, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “But if you’re asking me to be your girlfriend, I think the first day is still a bit too early.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed. “Let’s forget this morning ever happened and we can do things properly. The way we want.”

“I’d love that,” she blushed again.

“I have another one, sorta related.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“What do you think about being exclusive? I get it if you think it’s too early.”

She pondered the question for a moment, taking another sip and slowly putting down her glass before answering. “I don’t think it’s too early, at least, I don’t feel like it is,” she answered slowly. “I’m not actually talking to anyone else right now, but I’d be willing to make this exclusive if you are.”

“Me too.”

Kazuha hesitated, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s complicated,” you added.

“Oh, alright,” she replied, looking a bit disheartened.

“There’s this girl,” you began explaining. “We’re not in a relationship or anything, but we have a bit of a friends-with-benefits type thing going on.”

“Oh.”

“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear, and I’m sorry, but I really want to be honest with you, and of course I promise I’m done with that stuff now,” you replied softly. “My last serious relationship had some… I just don’t want to go through that again, I’d rather be honest with you about everything.”

“I get that, my last relationship also wasn’t great,” Kazuha frowned. “No, you’re right, thank you for telling me. If you don’t mind, do you think we can maybe keep past relationships to ourselves going forward? Sorry, but I don’t know if it’s something I want to hear-”

“You don’t have to explain, trust me, I get it,” you interjected warmly. “And I’ll say the same for you. We’ve both gone through stuff. I'm here if you need someone to talk to about it, but I don’t need to know every specific detail. The past is the past, it doesn’t affect whatever our relationship ends up being.”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled again, visibly relaxing as you spoke the right words. “Do you mind if I step away to the bathroom real quick?”

“Of course not, but you have to promise me you won’t pull that trick again,” you answered, flashing her a suspicious look. “I told you I’m treating you to dinner, this one’s on me.”

“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes. “I promise.”

With that, Kazuha got up from the table, gracefully making her way across the restaurant. Her movements, fluid as possible, had you completely in awe, unable to take your eyes away. The way her skirt showcased her perfect legs, accentuating those meticulously sculpted curves, she had your breath catching in your throat, mesmerized and captivated by her grace.

She left this imprint on your mind, convincing you that she was something special. The honeymoon effect was hitting hard, even though you weren’t officially together, you knew it was inevitable at this point - you were going to make Kazuha your girlfriend.

—

“I’m getting this.”

“No you’re not,” you pushed her hand away and tapped your card against the reader.

“You got dinner, this isn’t fair,” Kazuha argued.

“And you’re pretty, what’s your point?”

Kazuha began blushing again, her fingers struggling to put her card back into her wallet. “Th-That has nothing to do with anything,” she stammered, unable to hide how flustered she would get whenever you gave her cheesy compliments.

“Sure it does,” you replied, reaching forward and taking her card from her shaking hand and inserting it into her wallet for her. “I appreciate the gesture, but really, it’s like four dollars, not a big deal.”

“Alright fine, thank you,” she replied, cheeks still flushed a light pink as she accepted her wallet back. “Have you been here before?”

“Nope, first time,” you answered as the two of you sat down. “You?”

“Yeah a couple of times, it’s really good.”

“Ah, so that’s how you picked the flavor so quickly.”

“Actually, it’s my first time trying this one,” Kazuha giggled nervously. “I kinda wanted to try something new, make a new memory with you…”

Your heart skipped a beat. “That is actually so sweet, wow,” you muttered, staring into her beautiful round eyes. “Hopefully it’s good then.”

“Or really bad.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it,” Kazuha began explaining. “Just like when you go to a restaurant, you generally remember the really good and really bad, no one remembers the average stuff.”

“Ah I see what you mean,” you responded. “That’s true, but I promise you I’m not going to forget this ice cream no matter how good, bad, or average it is.”

“And why’s that?” Kazuha chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t tell me, is it because you’re sharing it with me?”

“How’d you know?”

“You’re getting predictable,” Kazuha laughed, smiling brightly.

“And you’re so-”

“Pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

The way her face lit up when she smiled was absolutely enchanting. She didn’t know it, but she had you wrapped around her finger, you were starting to think you’d do anything for this girl. No, you already knew it, you would do anything for this girl. Your heart rate whenever she smiled was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your sundae, enjoy!” a cheery staff member dropped off the bowl of ice cream at your table. “Let me know if you need anything else!”

“Thank you,” Kazuha smiled respectfully at the young girl before turning back to you. “It looks good.”

“Then let’s find out if it’s as good as it looks.”

Kazuha picked up her spoon, scooping up some of the cookie crumbles and fudge ice cream onto it before holding it out for you. Taking her lead, you opened your mouth and let her feed you.

“Wow,” you mumbled as the taste hit your tongue. “That is seriously way better than I expected.”

“Is it?” Kazuha looked at you with glee.

“Yeah, here,” you picked up your spoon and returned the favor, feeding Kazuha the ice cream. Her eyes lit up immediately - she was so unbelievably cute. “Right?”

“You weren’t kidding, that’s amazing,” Kazuha gushed, going for another bite.

Something you noticed, and loved, about Kazuha was that she wasn’t afraid to eat. Even though she was exceptionally feminine and graceful, she wasn’t shy when it came to food. It was adorable, especially with how expressive she would be when the food was good. Within just a minute, full of spoon hitting glass, the bowl of ice cream the two of you were sharing was practically emptied.

“So, Zuha, you never actually told me, what’s your major?” you asked as you put down your spoon. “I just realized I never asked what you wanted to do after school.”

“I’d love to one day teach ballet, and my major is biology,” she answered, scooping out pieces of cookies from the bottom of the bowl before looking up at you and laughing. “You look shocked.”

“Sorry, it’s a lovely dream, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you chuckled. “So I guess the next natural question would be why the hell did you pick biology if you want to teach ballet?”

“Well, I’ve been training ballet my whole life,” Kazuha explained. “And I wanted to do something interesting and challenging on top of that, so I found myself in biochemical sciences.”

That would explain why she was so graceful, you thought to yourself. “That’s awesome, and quite admirable.”

“Thank you. It can be pretty tough managing all of that while still trying to keep some semblance of a social life.”

“You seem to be doing alright,” you replied with a smile. “Especially if you found time to go on a date with me.”

“I make time for things I want to do,” Kazuha smiled back, making your cheeks warm. “What, no cheeky response this time?”

“Sorry, sometimes it’s just so hard to focus on anything other than your smile.”

“There it is,” Kazuha laughed while rolling her eyes.

“Hey, I know it’s getting kinda late, but would you want-”

“I’d love to come over for a bit,” Kazuha cut you off, smiling brighter than ever.

—

“How could you possibly forget sugar?” you burst out laughing. “They’re cookies, that’s like, the most basic part.”

“That was Chaewon’s responsibility, not mine!” Kazuha defended herself. “Anyway, we tried making them without it.”

“You tried making cookies without sugar?” you laughed even harder. “I gotta know, how’d they turn out?”

“I don’t know, we ended up burning them,” Kazuha joined you in laughter. “I’ll have to make them for you some day.”

“After hearing about your baking skills, I think I’m alright,” you teased, picking up your glass of champagne and taking another sip. “I don’t think I’ll be buying your cookbook.”

“You sure?” Kazuha took a big sip before putting her own glass down. “I’ll even sign it for you,” she added, leaning closer to you.

“Depends what you sign it as,” you replied, putting your glass down as well, opening your arms for Kazuha to snuggle up with you.

“And what would you want me to sign it as?” she asked, her face right in front of yours.

“My girlfriend?”

“I thought we agreed it’s too early,” she whispered, moving her lips even closer to yours. “That one day wasn’t enough time?”

“It’s past midnight already,” you whispered into her mouth before leaning forward and closing the gap slightly.

“Have we really been talking for that long?” she whispered back, closing it some more.

And just like that, you found your lips softly brushing again Kazuha’s once more. The kiss was soft; Kazuha’s pretty eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into it, sweet and tender. The room went silent, completely still, as the air was filled with the lingering sounds of your lips colliding. A tender echo, her sweet breaths reverberating in your ears, perfectly describing the gentle and warm feeling you had coursing through your body as you kissed Kazuha. Delicate and calm, you got lost in her touch.

She brought her hands up to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly, leaning into you. Meanwhile, your hand explored her body, rubbing against her core, feeling through her top how toned she was. Your hand slowly slid lower until it was resting against the side of her thigh, slipping just a bit underneath her skirt.

Kazuha pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, a hint of hesitation showing. “I’m not ready to go all the way,” she whispered softly.

“I’m in no rush,” you whispered back, pressing your lips forward again.

Her eyes shot wide open for a moment before she slowly closed them again, relief calming her down as she began gently prodding her tongue against yours. Then, to your surprise, she grabbed your wrist and gently guided it along her leg until your palm was resting against her soft ass before she brought her hand back up to the back of your neck, her fingers lightly grabbing your hair.

Following her lead, you gave her ass a gentle squeeze, making sure not to push past her boundaries. The way she kissed you, the increase in passion, was confirmation that she was okay with it. Her body was perfect, you got lost in the warmth of her skin, your fingers brushing just slightly against the fabric of her underwear by mistake.

Yet, she didn’t pull back at all. She didn’t seem to mind, at least that’s what her kiss was telling you. Kazuha was getting more and more aggressive with it, and soon enough you found yourself falling onto your back with Kazuha on top of you. Her hands which were previously squeezing your hair, returned to your face, cupping your cheeks again as her tongue pushed audaciously into your mouth.

Her passion was met with your own as you brought your other hand around her body, holding her perfectly sculpted ass in your palms. You gave her a few soft squeezes, addicted to her body, at this point your palms were placed directly on her ass, your fingers gently kneading her softness. Caution was slowly dissipating as you got more comfortable with each other’s bodies.

The moment felt like it was stretching, enveloping you in excitement, a sign of hopefully some future with the girl you were holding onto. However, even though you could have kept going all night, you could feel the natural end coming. With her cheeks flushed red, and a soft smile on her lips, Kazuha pulled back, breathing deeply above you.

“I could really get used to this,” she smiled warmly down at you.

“I’m definitely not going to stop you,” you smiled back before pulling her into your embrace, gently rubbing her back as you took in the lovely scent of her shampoo. “Zuha, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Are you kicking me out?” Kazuha giggled as she started to get off you.

Without hesitation, you pulled her back in even tighter. “Absolutely not,” you clarified, giving the top of her head a little peck. “I was just going to ask if you have class tomorrow morning.”

“I do,” Kazuha sighed heavily. “But it’s fine, I’ll skip it.”

“I can’t in good conscience be responsible for that,” you replied when Kazuha’s phone began ringing. “You going to skip that, too?”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Kazuha groaned as she leaned over towards the table, nearly falling off the couch if it wasn’t for you catching her. “Thanks,” she giggled before answering. “Hello? No, I'm not still out. No, I'm not drunk. Yes Chaewon-ah, I’m safe. Are you done? Oh my God, bye.”

“Cookie girl?” you teased as Kazuha sat up and began stretching.

“Yeah,” she yawned, arms straight up, her top riding up just enough for you to see her perfectly sculpted abs. “I had a lot of fun today,” she smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling as she let her arms fall to her side, shoulders slumped.

“I did too,” you smiled back, sitting up as well to give her another quick kiss. “Want me to walk you back to your room?”

“Actually,” Kazuha bit her lip nervously. “I kinda promised Chaewon that I wouldn’t drink tonight, I don’t really want her to know.”

“Zuha, you should have told me. We didn’t have to finish that bottle.”

“No no, I wanted to drink with you… I guess I felt safe with you,” she replied softly. “But now I have to ask, do you mind if I spend the night? I really don’t want to get scolded by her.”

“Uh, sure, but don’t you think she’ll be more concerned if you spend the night?”

“Nah, she’s going to have to get used to it anyway,” Kazuha replied casually while standing up and holding her hand out for you. “I’m going to be spending the night in my boyfriend’s room from time to time.”

“Boyfriend?” you stood up and grabbed her hand excitedly. “Does that mean…”

“Yes,” Kazuha silenced you with another kiss. “Boyfriend. Fuck timelines, I’m ready if you are.”

If only she could feel your heart pounding out of your chest. “Definitely,” you smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze.

—

“I’m pretty impressed that you have all this makeup remover stuff,” Kazuha commented as she walked out of your bathroom. “You have girls over often or something?”

“Umm.”

“Oh, I completely forgot about…” Kazuha’s cheeks turned bright red. “Sorry, ignore that.”

“Her name is Sana, but no,” you answered honestly, ignoring her embarrassment. “That stuff is from when I was with my ex. She was the last girl I let in my room.”

“I see, well, it’s very convenient regardless,” Kazuha replied as she looked around your room.

“You’re more than welcome to borrow whatever clothes you’d like by the way, I assume you’re not sleeping in that,” you added as you took off your shirt and pants before getting into your bed, admiring how incredibly stunning Kazuha looked even without makeup - this girl was unreal.

“It’s fine,” a shy smile formed on Kazuha’s lips before she turned around and began stripping down to her underwear as well. “You don’t mind, right?”

“By all means, whatever you’re most comfortable with.”

“I’m going to turn the lights off before I get in, alright?”

“Sure,” you replied casually while plugging your phone into your charger. “Just be careful, don’t trip on anything.”

“I will,” Kazuha responded as she shut off the lights. In the darkness, Kazuha took a second before slipping into the bed next to you, her beautiful face barely visible under the faint moonlight shining through your window. “Can I ask you another question?”

“You can always ask me a question.”

“How’d you like feeling my body earlier while we kissed?”

“Ah, what a question,” you chuckled. “Your body is fucking amazing Zuha, I can tell you work out a lot.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Kazuha asked, her voice littered with allure in the most teasing way possible.

“Your abs, they’re rock solid.”

“Let’s play a little game, how about you try finding my abs in the dark?” Kazuha teased, giggling softly.

“Sounds fun,” you smirked, reaching your hand across the bed. You fumbled around for a second until your hand made contact with skin, soft skin. It took you a moment before you realized what you were holding. “Yup, that’s a titty, and you aren’t wearing a bra.”

“You’re right,” she giggled, grabbing your wrist and sliding it down until your hand was rubbing against her core. “And these are my abs.”

“Damn, they’re so nice,” you moaned softly. “We should workout together, you could train me.”

“Sure,” Kazuha whispered before sliding your wrist even lower. “And how does this feel?”

“Zuha,” you gasped as she placed your hand between her legs, and sure enough, she wasn’t wearing anything. “What happened to not being ready tonight?”

“This is different,” she whispered. “I’ve already sucked your cock in a bathroom, this is pretty harmless if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but-”

“If you’re not comfortable, I won’t be offended if you pull away.”

Yeah, there was no chance you were doing that.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked carefully as you began rubbing between her legs softly, feeling how wet she was.

“Absolutely,” she muttered, sliding closer to you.

“Then I want this to be perfect,” you whispered back, sliding your other hand under her body and wrapping it around her, placing it on her chest, giving her tit a soft squeeze. “Tell me what feels good.”

“What you’re doing now is nice,” she moaned as you rubbed slow and steady circles against her clit.

“Good,” you breathed before leaning forward and finding her lips.

As you began kissing her, you started moving your fingers a bit faster, sliding down her slit every few circles, teasing her entrance with the tip of your finger. You used her moans as your guidance, feeling for when you hit the right spots, hyperfocusing on what made Kazuha feel good. Once you began finding a rhythm, figuring her out, you started speeding up some more.

“Fuck that’s nice,” she moaned, separating her lips from yours, breathing into your mouth heavily.

With that moment of opportunity, you shoved your mouth into her neck and began kissing her collarbone. At the same time, you pinched her nipple softly with one hand and eased one finger into her pussy, just up until the first knuckle.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped, grabbing the back of your head with her hand and latching onto your hair. “Go deeper.”

And that was exactly what you did, pushing your finger deeper while using your thumb to rub her clit. You also took the opportunity to move lower down her body, leaving her neck and putting your mouth on her nipple, sucking it taut. With your mouth on one nipple and your finger lightly pinching the other, you found something was working because Kazuha’s whole body was moving up and down with her moans at this point.

Your fingers worked nonstop, gently fucking her pussy, daring to go deeper with each thrust. It was a balancing act of making her feel good and making sure you don’t go too hard, a balancing act that you were succeeding in, clearly. But you wanted more.

“Zuha,” you pulled back, looking up at her. “Can I go down on you?”

Even in the darkness, you could see her bite her lower lip nervously. “Maybe just… just fingers tonight… if that’s okay,” she mumbled quietly.

“No problem,” you whispered back before leaning forward and kissing her again.

She was hesitant for just a second before she got back into it, that burning passion returning with a vengeance. As you kissed her, you went back to slipping your finger into her soft pussy. She was warm, and incredibly wet, a soft wet squishing sound filled the room, mixed with the sound of your kiss, as you pushed your finger in and out of her.

With your tongue down her mouth and one hand gently massaging her tit, it really didn’t take much longer for you to start feeling Kazuha’s insides squeezing against your finger. In rhythmic beauty, she began moaning into your mouth, gasping and panting as her pussy pressed down hard. You slipped your finger out and began rubbing soft circles around her clit, making sure not to press too hard.

Kazuha rode her orgasm out for as long as she could, making sure to never separate her lips from yours. It wasn’t until her body finally relaxed did she stop kissing you. “I can’t believe how comfortable I feel around you,” Kazuha mumbled, rubbing wrapping her hands around your body gently. “To think, I only met you because of that stupid punishment.”

“You’re telling me,” you gave her a small squeeze. “I can’t believe how quickly things are moving.”

“Yeah,” Kazuha sighed. “I guess I set the tempo kinda fast this morning.”

“Zuha,” you paused to give her cheek a kiss. “We agreed to forget about that silliness, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I know, but I can’t exactly forget what I did,” Kazuha laughed softly. “Seriously I promise I’m not that type of girl.”

“Zuha-”

“Like, I know it kinda seems like it with what happened this morning and the fact that I’m literally laying in your bed naked, but I swear-”

“Zuha!” you interrupted her. “It’s fine, seriously, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my girlfriend if I didn’t really like you. So what if things are moving fast, who cares?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Let’s just let things happen, do what feels right,” you added, playing with the muscles on her back. “Whatever feels natural, I’m here with you and committed to making this work.”

“Then how about you let me take care of you?” Kazuha giggled softly.

“What?”

“You realize I can feel everything in this position, right?”

“Alright well with how fucking hot you are, there’s not a straight man on this planet who wouldn’t be, not in this position.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Kazuha whispered, leaning back so that she was face to face with you. She slowly snaked her hand down your body, softly rubbing your shaft through your underwear. “It would be pretty cruel of me if I didn’t, not after what you just did for me.”

“I’m happy just holding you, there’s no pressure for you to do anything tonight,” you replied, your breath hitching as Kazuha slipped her delicate fingers down your waistband. “Really, Zuha, if you’re tired it’s totally fine.”

“Let’s be real with ourselves,” Kazuha leaned forward and kissed you before smiling softly at you. “Neither of us are sleeping much tonight.”

“Is that so?” you moaned as she took a gentle grip on your shaft.

“That’s right,” she whispered before pushing you onto your back. Then, inch by inch, she planted kisses down your body. She started at your neck, moving lower, kissing your chest tenderly, all the while still stroking your cock. As she moved lower down your body, she started stroking faster and faster, pausing only to yank your underwear down. “Did I ever tell you why my punishment involved sucking someone off?”

“No,” you flinched as Kazuha let a glob of her warm spit fall onto your cock.

“Because I love sucking cock,” she answered in a whisper.

Before you could respond, Kazuha engulfed your cock in her mouth, making a firm seal around your tip with her lips, prodding softly at your hole with her tongue. Then, she lowered her mouth, swallowing your whole cock in one swift motion before slowly - agonizingly slowly - pulling back up to your tip. After that, she repeated the motion a few more times, plunging down your cock and slowly withdrawing. Any degree of awkwardness from the first time had been replaced with familiarity now as Kazuha worked your cock like an expert.

“Fuck me, Zuha, that feels so fucking good,” you heaved, trying to catch your breath.

“Yeah?” she replied, her voice soft as sugar, before she leaned in and started kissing your balls.

“Yeah, the only shame is not being able to see that beautiful face.”

“Then turn the lamp on,” Kazuha cooed, tossing your blanket to the side and climbing over you, positioning herself between your legs before putting your cock back into her mouth.

As per her suggestion, you leaned over and turned on a small lamp you kept on your side table. With that, you felt your cock ready to completely erupt as you took a look at Kazuha who was staring up at you. Her eyes were so fucking beautiful. You couldn’t hold back, not with how good she looked right now with her cheeks hollowed, moving steadily up and down your shaft.

“Zuha, you’re going to make me cum,” you mumbled, straining and squirming your whole body as you desperately tried to hold back. “I can’t…”

She wasn’t phased at all, she just kept on sucking your cock at the same excruciatingly slow pace. The next who-knows-how-many seconds went by in a flash, instantly yet somehow lasting forever at the same time. She never once broke eye contact, and her mouth never once changed tempo, all that changed was how much pressure she applied with her lips, expertly varying it to make your cock feel that much better.

It wasn’t until the first burst of your cum flew into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, did she finally stop moving. As your cum began volleying into her mouth, she held her lips tight around your cock, making sure not a single drop leaked through the smirk that formed on her face. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, were fading into adorable little crescents as she proudly accepted all of your cum into her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” you cried out, your cock still pumping away.

Kazuha waited until the impulses slowed down, she let you slowly regain strength, but then as she felt your body relaxing, she started bobbing her head up and down your cock again as fast as she could.

“Please,” you moaned as your cock went into a frenzy, the final few shots of cum flying into Kazuha’s mouth. “Holy fuck!”

Once you were finally done, Kazuha slowly pulled back, letting a fountain of your white cum spill down your shaft as she lifted her lips off, tilting her back before swallowing everything in her mouth.

“I thought there was a lot last time,” Kazuha giggled, unable to contain her proud smile as she grinned from ear to ear. “But there’s so much more this time.”

“Zuha that was so fucking good, look,” you opened your eyes wide. “I’m literally in tears.”

“Good,” she smirked before leaning forward and using her tongue to scoop your cum off your shaft into her mouth. “I’ll do this for you whenever you want. Every night if you want.”

“I would literally die,” you inhaled sharply as her tongue grazed against your tip. “I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else all day.”

“Did you really like it that much?” she asked while licking nearing your shaft, looking for more spilled cum.

“Zuha,” you sat up and grabbed her by the arms. “Yes, I don’t know how to convince you.”

She looked deep into your eyes, her beautiful round eyes shimmering in the dim light of your room. Those beautiful features, the perfect face, sporting a soft expression as she stared at you. “I believe you,” she whispered before closing her eyes and tilting her head.

Without hesitation, you met her movement and pressed your lips firmly against hers, bringing your hands around her body and feeling her back. Her skin was so soft, you wanted to touch and feel her body forever. Unfortunately for you, the kiss did not last forever, and eventually you had to let go of her.

“I know we agreed not to talk about exes, but can I tell you something?” Zuha asked as she snuggled up in your arms.

“What’s up?”

“He’d never kiss me after I-”

Before replying, you pushed her chin up with a finger and kissed her mouth again. “Sounds like an idiot, no offense,” you replied casually. “I’ll never understand that. If I’m willing to suck on a girl’s vagina, I feel like kissing after head is really not a big deal.”

“I’ve never actually had anyone…” her voice trailed off.

“Zuha,” you let go of her and sat up, looking down at her. “Is that why you didn’t let me go down on you earlier?”

Her cheeks turned red as she avoided your gaze for a moment before she looked back up at you and nodded slowly. You bent forward and kissed her again, repeatedly, on the lips for about a minute before sitting up again.

“It’s entirely your choice, I’d never make you do something that you’re not comfortable with,” you began softly while rubbing her thigh. “But I want you to know, I’d love nothing more than to make you feel good.”

“I just can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed,” Kazuha admitted quietly. “It’s not that I’m not comfortable with you, because I am, I just don’t know…”

“I never want you to feel embarrassed around me,” you spoke softly as you moved down the bed and began slowly spreading her legs. “Do I have your permission?”

She hesitated again, as if fighting an internal battle, but then she nodded, her eyes shimmering as the early signs of dawn crept through your window.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” she whispered back, adjusting herself to get more comfortable.

“Then just relax,” you instructed her softly before pressing your lips below her navel and leaving a long, very drawn out kiss on her skin. Then, as you slid a bit lower, you paused to reach up and grab Kazuha’s hands. She took your lead, interlocking her fingers with yours and taking a deep breath. “You’re so incredibly breathtaking, just tell me what feels good,” you murmured, letting the breath of your words hit her pussy.

Your mouth began drooling at this point, overwhelmed by how enticing Kazuha’s pussy looked right now as the sun crept through the window some more, making her body glisten beautifully. It was enchanting. You pressed your lips to her pussy, holding steady as Kazuha took a deep breath, letting her get truly comfortable with your touch before giving her pussy a tender kiss.

“You alright?”

“Mhmm,” Kazuha breathed, giving your fingers a little squeeze, encouraging you to keep going.

Even that small taste of her body had you desperate for more. You wanted nothing more than to shove your face as deep into her pussy as physically possible, to suck and lick her until the sun went down again. But this was less for you, and more for Kazuha, so you took it slow.

With your mouth opened wide, you carefully pressed down on her pussy, creating a seal with your lips and her skin. She squeezed your hand again as you stuck out your tongue and pressed it flat against her folds. You began pressing down, applying pressure with various parts of your tongue, truly relishing in the slight tang of Kazuha’s pussy. She tasted so addicting despite it being so subtle.

And just like that, you were addicted and completely consumed by Kazuha’s taste. Paired with the sounds of Kazuha moaning as you applied more pressure with your tongue and lips, you were in heaven. You moved around, exploring Kazuha’s body to your heart’s desire, pausing occasionally to give her inner thighs kisses before latching back onto her pussy.

The more you feasted, the more she gave. Your lower face was completely drenched in Kazuha’s wetness as she leaked all over you. It wasn’t possible to lap it all up, despite how hard you tried, but you tried nonetheless. As her pussy, wet and warm, responded to your touch, her moans became even more vocal. She was definitely trying to stay quiet to the best of her ability, but she was failing as she got closer.

Especially now, as you could feel her body trembling slightly, each lick made her body jolt. Each kiss sent her into a frenzy. Her moans crescendoed as you sped up, sucking and licking her pussy with all of your power, and her thighs began pressing against the sides of your head and her fingers threatened to crush yours.

Then, with a particularly hefty gush of pleasure jetting out of her pussy, Kazuha began crying out in pleasure, her body convulsing in your mouth. “Oh fuck,” she sobbed, digging her nails into the back of your hands. “That feels so good.”

All you wanted to do was make her feel good - nothing brought you more pleasure. You held yourself in place between Kazuha’s legs, not that you could move even if you wanted to thanks to how hard her legs were clamping down on your face, and you gently teased her pussy with your tongue, giving it a few flicks before planting a very soft kiss on her clit, sucking on it tenderly.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Kazuha moaned, letting go of your hand and pushing your face away, detaching your mouth from her sensitive clit. “It’s too much.”

As soon as she pushed your head away, you dove back in and started kissing her thighs, switching back and forth between them. You knew her pussy was far too sensitive right now, the most you did was let your breath hit her skin, even that earned a full-body shudder. You gave her a final kiss on each thigh before crawling back up the bed next to Kazuha.

She turned to face you, and without saying a word, she lunged for your mouth, kissing you passionately and deeply - harder than ever. You let her take control, she got to guide the kiss, regulate the passion to her desires. Kazuha went on for a bit, even wrapping her leg around your body, rubbing her warmth against you until she was finally satisfied. She backed up, looking you straight in the eyes, the most precious girl you have ever seen in your life.

“That was amazing,” she muttered quietly, unable to contain her smile.

“You’re amazing,” you replied, giving her butt a small pat before glancing at your window. “The sun’s up.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“Me neither,” you smiled back, giving her another kiss. “So, what should we do?”

“Do you have class?” she asked.

“I’ll skip it if you skip yours.”

“I’m definitely skipping,” Kazuha giggled.

“Then I guess I don’t have class.”

“Perfect,” she turned around and snuggled her body into yours.

Within just a minute of being in your arms, the ‘not sleepy’ girl passed out, pushing against your body with each deep breath she took. You gave her one last gentle kiss on the top of her head before closing your eyes, unable to wipe the smile off your face.

---

A/N:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS. I've been wanting to write this for so long and I finally decided to sit down and get to it. Words really cannot explain how into Kazuha I am at the moment, but hopefully this fic at least shed some light on my recent addiction over her.

I don't know what to work on next. The next Dating Seraphs chapter is going to be kinda Kazuha heavy, so I kinda don't want to post that right after this. I think this fic is the first time I've blatantly teased some of the other idols who will be appearing in Roommates, I hope that's exciting for some of you!

Maybe I'll try releasing something else around the New Years, we'll see. I'd love to hear what you guys think about this fic though, I can't rememember the last time I wrote this much straight up one-on-one fluff in a fic. There's going to be a third part to this mini series, and I promise you that one will have some sex scenes!

[letskilltimetogether]

Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!

Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story

Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.

For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.

To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.

However!

For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.

Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.

Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.

Main tangent over lol.

I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.

I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.

*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*

Also happy holidays!!

Your honor they're homosexuals

[annasofthe11thdimension]

Alright, so this is basically...an art dump for all the pics i drew when i was trying to draft the ending i wanted my Odile looping Au 'Like a Wheel Ever Turning' which...is not even SLIGHTLY how this fic is going to end now, but while figuring that out i still like draw all this and had to do SOMETHING with it.

So figured I'd post it and be like 'hey! fun Odile looping act 5 boss fight vibes not connected to anything else!' since like...that basic IS what they are at this point lol.

The one cool idea i loved that i think is now FIRMLY ditched is the act 5 boss fight starts when Odile uses wish craft to splinter herself into two halves.

The 'old/current' her that is meant to be her coldly logical side, and a younger 'copy' version, which is meant to be the childish irrational side...that is what's stopping her just shutting down the time loop because she can't figure out how to be happy with her friends leaving.

I mean, if you murder the part of you that WANTS the wish to come true, that's basically a 'get out of time loop free card' right? Right! Totally sound logic!

Yes the 'young' version of her firmly believes that she's real, and also also got memories going up to about age 21, and also that she ought to be in Ka Bue not HERE among these french weirdos.

Also yes again, a 'young' Odile is EXACTLY as unhinged about this as you'd expect a 21 year old to be upon finding out that apparently the 'real' her think murdering her is the correct solution to this problem!

The shift of the fight was meant to have the inverse 'colors' shift from one version to the other by the end, wrapping up with the point where the 'original' Odile is forced to have a heart to heart with the personification of her perceived 'worst' qualities.

Pretty sure the vibes for this ending was a lot more focused on the resolution of having deeply complex feeling about EXPRESSING emotion directly to other people. That along with a side helping of how isolating it is to be perceived as a 'real' adult such that you can't be weak enough to ask anyone for help. Because really if you can't even be that then why are you any different then when you were irritating mess of a youth?

Not saying any of that isn't still present in the story, but like...there is a LOT of other stuff going on, and those themes are now linked into many other ones too, and that's not even TOUCHING on how Loop's been...somewhat complicating my redrafting lol.

...Also I might have drawn/plotted this version before i knew about two-hats lol. THAT also is a factor.

Anyway! Still liked all of these enough to want to do SOMETHING with them, and figured this worked, so i could like map out my thoughts on them, even if i never got to write this.

[utilitycaster]

What do you mean (from your latest post) that you think that many actual play failures are failures of ambition?

Usually, when an actual play show doesn't click for me, it's because the GM or players aimed very high or tried to push the boundaries (of the medium or system) and it didn't quite land right. It's a pretty new medium, and while I've been very openly disparaging of how much many writers in the AP space focus overmuch on novelty over consistent quality, I do think these failures are important! I think it's good to play with what the medium can be! I just think that sometimes, it does indeed fail.

Examples off the top of my head:

Too much plot for allotted length: EXU Prime was fun to watch but I think this plot really needed to be a 16-20 episode season, not an 8 episode one, which meant that we never really learned Myr'atta's motivation or the deal with Ted until years later in the real world despite that being the core plot. Similar issues have come up with various D20 seasons; I think running a one- or two- session story isn't too hard to do, or running a longform campaign isn't too hard to do, but 8 or 10 or 20 episodes can be really difficult to plan for properly, and a lot of people overfill.

Trying to bend the system too far: I wrote a long-ass post I cannot find about this for a few D20 seasons as well (notably Neverafter) and I've fallen off of WBN for a few reasons but in part because it really increasingly feels like D&D is the wrong system - the classes of D&D support the worldbuilding, but the pace and style and magic system of D&D increasingly feel like they and the narrative are in conflict.

Trying to fit in An Important Message: the infamous Rusty Quill Gaming Everything Changes [now make a monumental decision we have not once explored in 7 real world years of telling this story, in the last half of the last episode] is a big one here. This is not unique to AP (this is why Battlestar Galactica's ending is widely panned) but I think the nature of actual play makes it more likely because to some extent you as the GM must relinquish a good degree of control.

Not realizing what you need to plan for: ultimately, in my opinion, the failure of Campaign 3. I don't think the problem is that Matt wanted to bring everything together across multiple campaigns; I don't think this is a cheap setup with a pre-determined outcome (though I could be proven wrong); I think the problem is that there needed to be a much more stringent character creation process and on-rails early plot to actually get from point A to point B in a way that felt natural within the story.

Trying to break production value records while neglecting story: With the caveat that I hated nearly every second of the hour of Kollok I watched, I have yet to see a review that talks about anything it does other than how good the production values are (*whisper* they're not even that good). Burrow's End had some really good aesthetic/filming choices and some really not good ones on top of having a story I found weak; the season of Candela Obscura I thought had the strongest story had no split-screen film edits. This could just be that my AP introduction was TAZ Balance followed by simultaneous C1 and early C2, but like...I've heard incredible actual play with no music and no fancy lighting and no sound effects and no official character art, and I've watched some heavily produced stuff that had the plot of a fucking Ed Wood movie and was utterly joyless to boot. Story first; accessibility production values (clean and clear sound, transcripts, making all speakers visible if you're a filmed production) second; anything else should ONLY come after that.

[pigdemonart]

Few weeks ago I had star fox on the brain, so HERE WE ARE

Star fox I think might have been one of my first fav games as a kiddo, apart from Pokemon. To 5 year old Piggu, look! Im drawing them now for you! :]

Patreon | Ko-Fi

[wrongtvrns]

The way the blonde looked at her, the way Maeve spoke with softness and understanding, compassion and sympathy lacing every tone — it was obvious that this young woman knew what Kira was feeling. On one hand it was comforting to know she wasn't alone, that someone understood just how heartbreaking it could be to see couples merry and bright together. To see families holding each other tight and sharing glee. The brunette had the attention of many, came with the territory of being a celebrity, but the holiday only highlighted just how alone she was. Just how broken she felt internally. Somehow a little laughter bubbled up and spilled out, soft and light, that smile not quite reaching her eyes. "You're right about that. This open bar of sorts just sounds like trouble." And knowing her ex had now moved to her city? The possibility of running into Leti and the likelihood of some beautiful woman on her arm nearly had Kira running to the eggnog herself.

"The sweaters are amusing because people are so passionate in their hate for them yet people seem to be having fun with them?" Kira was trying to avoid that tug on her heart. Pretty, dark eyes framed with long lashes scanned their surroundings. Maybe some part of her had hoped she could soak up the love and cheer through osmosis. Could that have been why she subjected herself to this? But those words... just to remind us of what we don't have... caused the brunette to swallow down the emotion knotting in her throat. "Wait — you don't have family around?" They hadn't quite shared their stories. For some reason protective of their pain. Talking about things made them all the more real, didn't they? "I feel so out of touch," she said blinking the fog in her head away and shaking it gently as well, stepping a little closer to Maeve, "I'm sorry, I think I assumed you had a partner. I do listen, I apologize, I've just got my head so far up my own ass feeling sorry for myself..." Kira offered a rueful smile.

The humor was appreciated and a more genuine look of amusement momentarily crossed Kira's face. She wholeheartedly appreciated what Maeve was trying to do and even let out a chuckle, but those would be problems she'd love to have. With her parents she still wasn't allowed at the table.The boyfriend? He was for show and to gain some ground back with her parents. Friends were busy with their own lives and families and loved ones. She was becoming weak enough that she might call her ex in the middle of the night just so she could feel a little something. Even if that would end up only being more torture. "No, no... you're right. Sorry, I'm being such an insufferable bitch, aren't I? Just wallowing over here." The brunette hauled in a breath and tried to sober herself of the downward spiral she'd been taking on. She perked up, listening with a faint smile at the blonde talk about her little plans with her little one. "That's really sweet and so meaningful. Even if she's too young now, there's a day soon where that will be the world to her." The invite had actually surprised her and Kira was certain her initial reaction had displayed that. Before she could form the words in response, however, Kira was nodding. "We could..." The brunette encouraged, more nodding of her head. "We could cook up a little dinner and do presents." She wasn't even Christian but she wanted to be apart of something somehow. "Thanks to my mom's bakery I'm fairly decent at that. I could make us some treats?" She was starting to go off with ideas, just tossing out and seeing what stuck with Maeve. "You'll regret the ugly sweaters but I'd love that. If I wouldn't be imposing of course."

Maeve listened, her soft gaze never wavering as Kira spoke. There was something unspoken in the air—something heavier than the twinkling lights or the festive music surrounding them. It was in the way Kira’s smile faltered just slightly at the edges, in how her words danced between humor and heartache.“Oh, I’m sure someone will make a scene before the night’s over," Maeve teased, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "The holidays do bring out the best and the worst in people… especially when questionable sweaters and too much eggnog are involved.” But as Kira’s tone shifted, Maeve did too. Subtle. Softer. She tilted her head just slightly, a quiet understanding settling over her features. “It is tough,” she admitted, no judgment in her voice. “All those picture-perfect moments—it’s like they’re lit up in neon this time of year, just to remind us what we don’t have.” There was no pity in Maeve’s tone, just the honesty of someone who knew that ache far too well.

Her lips quirked into something gentler, a faint, reassuring smile. “But don’t let the staged scenes fool you. Half of those people are fighting over whose turn it is to take the trash out, or burning the turkey.” Her voice dipped a little, almost conspiratorial. “And you? You’re not the only one who’s had a rough go of it lately, I promise you that.” The question about her plans earned a small chuckle, low and self-deprecating. “Christmas? New Year’s?” Maeve ran a hand through her hair, her shoulders lifting in a loose shrug. “Honestly, my plans are mostly kid-centered. I don't have any family here so it's just me and my little one this year around.” Her expression softened as she added, “She keeps me grounded, though. Reminds me that the holidays don’t have to be perfect to mean something. I mean she's still too young to know it but I want her to always know that.” She glanced at Kira, brows raised just slightly as if testing the waters before offering, “What about you? If you don’t have plans, maybe we could, I don’t know… make some of our own? A little less ‘Hallmark movie,’ a little more us.” Maeve’s smile grew, teasing but sincere. “I’ll even let you pick the ugly sweaters.”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

[serafilms]

FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS

part 2 of the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader

summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”

“What, you wouldn’t help?”

“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.

She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.

“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”

“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”

“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”

The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.

Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.

The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?

But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.

Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.

There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”

His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.

It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.

You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”

Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”

You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”

Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.

But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”

Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.

“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.

“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.

Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”

Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.

When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.

“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.

He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”

“Stare.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”

You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.

“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”

You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.

There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.

“Sit. Please.”

He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.

“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”

You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’

There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.

“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”

Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”

“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”

The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.

The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”

Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.

“Can I?” Art whispers.

“Please,” you respond.

His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.

Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.

Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.

Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.

Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.

“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”

Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”

Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.

“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”

She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”

“So like, if I win?”

“You don’t have to win to play well.”

You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.

In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I was—”

Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.

“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.

“Hi.”

“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”

Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”

“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.

“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”

SIX WEEKS LATER.

God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.

“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.

“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”

Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.

“You should take this off.”

“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so­ like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”

“You can wear his jacket instead.”

There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.

“You think he’ll offer?”

Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”

“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”

“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”

You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”

“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”

She’s right about that one.

Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”

“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”

She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.

You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.

Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.

(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.

“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)

So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.

But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.

When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.

Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.

One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.

Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.

The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.

“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.

“Hi,” you speak softly.

There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”

You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Shall we?”

You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”

“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.

He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”

“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.

“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you

You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”

“Physics. Or engineering.”

Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.

“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”

“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”

“You’d be right.”

Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”

Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.”

You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.

Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”

He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.

“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.

He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.

“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.

“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.

Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”

The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.

Your computer pings.

Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.

You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’

A minute later, there’s another notification.

Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.

[angelssmvse]

𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙍𝘼𝙏

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝙎𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙆𝘼 𝙓 𝙁𝙀𝙈 !𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝜗𝜚 (smut)

𝜗𝜚 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 You've always been stubborn, with a tendency to insist that everything you say or want must be followed. However, at times, you would act in a slightly childish manner, which Sevika despised.

𝜗𝜚 𝘼/𝙉 I'm pleased to present my first one-shot smut—I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to share any requests you may have. Thank you, angels <3

𝜗𝜚 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 smut! minors DNI. This narrative contains mature themes and explicit content, including strong language, depictions of violence, adult situations (smut), and elements of both humor and tenderness. Reader discretion is advised.

“Control yourself, little girl,” she says casually in response to your ongoing complaints. “You know you can’t leave this place until I fix everything to ensure your safety.” Sevika moves closer to the items you’re working on and sits next to you, her gaze locked on you.

You roll your eyes. “Before you came along, I fought against some pretty tough and dangerous people—do you really think I can’t handle this?” She scoffs, looking down as she takes a drag from her cigarette and blows the smoke in your direction. You cough dramatically. “Forget this, I’m out of here,” you declare, standing up quickly. But before you can leave, a metallic hand rests on your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

The two of you had a brief struggle before she managed to pin you down, carefully applying just enough pressure to restrain you without causing any harm. In an impulsive reaction, you bit her hand. Little did you know, this only fueled her anger further. Sevika growls, leaning closer to your ear. “Now, what the hell was that—hmm?” Her voice sends a shiver through you, causing your body to arch towards her. “Easy, easy,” she whispers soothingly.

You could feel her other hand, running gently from your waist to your ass leaving cold trails, you whimper as the air tenses. She loved it—loved to tease you and see you weak like this for her.

She began to kiss your neck leaving cute little spots on it just as a reminder later on, her kissed continue, first to the crook of your shoulders then chest, she stops looking up and smirks as she goes on, to your waist going progressively lower and lower.

You whimper as she goes down. Sevika pauses, looking up with a smirk. "I hate you," you whisper. She chuckles, "Oh really?"

You look up at her, amused. She smirks, breaking eye contact to glance at your soft, kissable lips. She moves closer until you can feel her warm breath, her nose brushing against yours, and then her lips against yours. Your hands rest on her neck, while hers encircle your waist as she guides you to sit on the nearest flat surface.

Sevika breaks the kiss and looks at you while her fingers try to find a way through your panties reaching your wet pussy, she smirks putting one finger first and then another making your heart accelerate and making you moan her name “Shhh now…” she teases you by accelerating her peace.

Right when you almost reached your climax she removes her fingers and tastes a bit of you before going down and ending up in between your legs; she starts off by kissing your inner tights, without breaking any eye contact, she wanted to see and hear everything—every movement, expression and screams you’d produce just for her, and only her.

She loved every minute of it, and sure as hell you did too.

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story; please do not copy nor translate without permission or proper attribution. I give credit for the character Sevika from the series "Arcane" by Riot Games. This is the only platform where I have published the story.

[drabbles-mc]

don't mind me getting to this ages after i said i would. merry chrysler to all of us we are catching UP on fics today!!!!! johnny davis first and foremost!!!!!!

OHmg you're just gonna kick it right off with Benny Cross Tension Hours???? absolutely devouring

And you really would never say it to his face, or anyone else’s for that matter, but you’ve even been considering the possibility that Benny might be part of the reason things with him and Betty didn’t work out. <- OHHHHOHOHO READER!!!!!!! YOU JUST MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING HERE!!!!!!

Stuff, and other things and what not. <- idk if I've said it out loud before but i definitely say it in my head all the time: i fucking LOOOOOOVE the way you create such unique voices for all of your reader characters. you have so so many talents as a writer and this is DEFINITELY one of them!!!! each of your readers is so unique and fit so well to their respective stories i could weep

The way even you might’a liked him, had you never seen Johnny, of course. <- reader is so real for this. i, too, might have been bewitched by benny if i hadn't rolled up to that film in love with johnny davis six ways to sunday before the opening credits even came on-screen

Sure, you can share as long as everyone’s playing nice, you’re not spoiled or nothing. <- mmmmm this feels like a Famous Last Words typa moment but I've been wrong before so i will 👀 continue to watch closely 👀

Or if he does, he’s still two hundred miles back from dealing with the meaning of it, and you know he’s not planning on running nowhere on those knees of his, so it’s whatever, right? <- the way i spit my fucking drink out over this description of it all. mj you have THEE most way with words I'm kissing you on the mouth right now

“and I never come off no more, so don’t worry about it.” <- first of all, i love the whole leadup to this, of him showing them around like he's giving them a museum tour of Vandals History. on his tour guide shit forreal in the cutest way. but this little add-on had me cackling and kicking my feet. benny's the one flying over the handlebars now etcetc

“Hm, think I have maybe three ‘just under six foot jokes’ left in me,” you promise, “but I’ll spare you today.” <- I'm obsessed with them. if benny gets in the way of reader and johnny, EYEEEE will gladly date reader instead

Yeah, Vandal stuff and you stuff. Two hands at once. No more juggling. But, obviously, there are some Benny shaped parts of that, that don’t seem to be mixing too well at all. <- i am gnawing my way through this paragraph in my mind in the most satisfying way possible. i love the turmoil of it all.

Like Benny was some sort of mystical kind of guy, like he wasn’t really all the way real, or something. <- let's be real, benny is an ethereal thing right out of johnny's dreams that he doesn't remember having

You know which ones you prefer just by looking. And you really know which ones you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on. <- oh they are SOOOO real for this actually 😂 only one type of bike is passenger-friendly and they figured that out right quick lmaooo

So you stand, and it’s quiet, and he looks at the guys getting onto their bikes, engines growling and barking all at once, and you think, my God, you have never survived a silence like this. <- YODELING at the mental image of this. just. reader and benny. 🧍🏻🧍🏻. real shit lmao I'm weak i love them

or maybe he’s from Europe <- MJ YOU CANT DO ME LIKE THIS 😂😂😂😂 I'm fucking weak bro i cannot. i love this so much. i love that reader went from "horrible tragic accident that damaged him forever" to "European". bikeriders was a comedy before it was a tragedy, after all

“I know,” he says back. “Johnny talks about you.” <- OHHH LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!! benny speaks!!! benny spills the beans!!!!!!

To your surprise, Benny laughs at that, and shit, he’s as movie star pretty as you’d expect with a smile on his face. It just gets worse with this dude. <- oh i love this. i love this adventure of reader trying to figure out benny and just having the "oh no he's hot" moment 😂😂 plot twist: johnny and reader have to fight (fists or knives style) for benny 😂😂

“You been with the club long?” / “Feels like it,” he says. <- obsessed with this Old Man Trapped In A Young Man's Body type of answer. benny. a man of multitudes

“You never figure they don’t give names to people that might not stick around?” he says. <- the way that reader and i both went from cackling to real pensive over this

his thigh’s resting against your shoulder and your neck’s half breaking just to look at him <- the way that if i was ever put in this position with him i would instantly be copping a public indecency charge for the things i would do next

🚨DANNY LYON SPOTTED IN THE NARRATIVE!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!🚨

but now you’re learning that this whole time they’ve had a walking talking wire tap rolling with them? Asking Q’s and getting A’s? <- crazy that you just come sweeping through here and decide that no one else will ever be able to match your prose. left none for the rest of us!!!!

“Nah. Spends a lot of time over at Kathy’s place.” <- the way I'm well and truly :smugpablo: rn despite the fact that also just....canonically....that's exactly what fucking happened 😂 but kay's dannykathy is in my head giving me brainworms so we are just going to have to run with that!

“I don’t want you talking to him,” he says, “about us. Can I ask that? Am I allowed to ask that of you?” <- i simply cannot piece apart all of the feelings that this little set of statements gave me. much to think about!!!!

“Well, usually,” he says, “when a guy’s going steady with someone—not to assume or presume, Johnny, every journey is a beautiful one—but, well, usually they bring ‘em along to these things.” <- mj the laugh i let out at this was so loud and genuine justin poked his head out from the next room over to ask me what was so funny 😂😂 i can HEAAAAR cal's voice in my head I'm fucking screaming. i love this so so much. kissing him and kissing you.

OHHHHH MJ WE ARE SO BACK, BABY!!!!!!!!!! this was so fucking phenomenal, not that i expected anything less. I'm taking the bikeriders away from jeff and giving it to you, actually. merry Christmas. 😌

white room - pt. 5

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 5.8k words, 5 of ? ao3 link | previous part a/n: hellow :3 we are back after an unexpected hiatus and lips finally gets to meet benny ! very exciting all round <3 i hope you like it and forgive me for falling off planet earth for a bit

Might sound kind of stupid, but recently, you been thinking that you’ve finally got it all worked out—about Benny, that is. Somewhere between the last time you saw him, and the Saturday of the picnic, Johnny’s weird kinda way of talking around him started making a whole load of sense. And it wasn’t just some little joke when he said he didn’t want you knowing Benny, it was pretty much sort of the truth, you think, hidden under all the hums and grumbles of him. He actually was cut up about it a little. Nervous, though someone like Johnny never aught’a be nervous about nothing. And you really would never say it to his face, or anyone else’s for that matter, but you’ve even been considering the possibility that Benny might be part of the reason things with him and Betty didn’t work out. 

Fuckin’ rat up the drain pipe sort of shit, right? Never saw it coming ’til it started scratching at your head one night. You were lying there staring at the ceiling and thinking, huh, Johnny talks about Benny the way you’d be talking about Johnny, should anyone ever ask you about him when you didn’t really wanna say nothing. Eh, he’s just some guy, you’d say, yeah, we hang around with each other, you know, doing stuff. Stuff, and other things and what not. 

Like, he’s got a hold on him, alright, the same one Johnny’s got on you. A real, steel grip, hold. You started off thinking well maybe it’s a jealous type of thing, you know, old guy wanting to step into the young buck’s riding boots, but it ain’t just that. Can’t be. Half of Johnny’s crew are ten years younger than him, but well, they aren’t Benny, right? And there’s something about the way he looks at him—the few times you’ve been around to catch it—something ‘bout the way Johnny watches him. And talks about him. And makes excuses for him, and the way he is. Sure, he may like him like he wants to be him, you know, foot taller, blonde, pretty as anything, but by the time Saturday rolls around and you’ve really sat on it for a while, you’re starting to think: well, what if he likes him the way every girl that ever meets Benny likes him? The way even you might’a liked him, had you never seen Johnny, of course.

Seems obvious once you’ve really put some time into the idea. Nothing about Johnny says he couldn’t be liking men the same way you do and, jeez, maybe you’re dumb for it, but even with all of that, you can’t find a single part of yourself that seems to mind. Johnny still treats you good, still makes the nights feel longer than the days—and he invited you to this picnic of theirs, which he says is only ever for wives and girlfriends and serious things like, so you figure you’re someone real important to him now, cause even if you aren’t one of those things, you’re something, right? And he did all of that with Benny around, so what difference does it make to you? Sure, you can share as long as everyone’s playing nice, you’re not spoiled or nothing.

Well, alright, maybe not share, you aren’t an angel—who is?—but right now, if Johnny likes Benny like he likes you, he sure don’t even know it yet. Or if he does, he’s still two hundred miles back from dealing with the meaning of it, and you know he’s not planning on running nowhere on those knees of his, so it’s whatever, right? Can’t fix nothing if it ain’t broke yet.

“You like dirt bikes?” he asks, while he’s dragging you across this damn field that you spent all morning riding for, grass wet from yesterday’s rain still. No place for any sort of picnic you’ve been to, but for Vandals, sure, it’s like a natural haven to them or something. 

“I never liked any sort of bike ’til I met you, Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he winds, like he knew as much but didn’t really care in the first place, “few of us are gonna race ‘em. See that track there?”

You see nothing but a whole load’a mud on top of another bunch of it. “Mhmm.”

“That’s where this whole thing started.” 

“And when you go spinning over the handlebars, that’s where it’ll end it up,” you say.

He laughs, but he goes on, “I’m serious,” through the smirk of it. “That’s where me and Brucey got the idea for the club in the first place. Well, that and, yeah.” He nods. “Here, when we was racing.” He waves toward the tracks in the dirt, and the bikes in the dirt, and the men that are fifty-percent fuckin’ dirt, like the whole lot is some sort of sacred ground to him, like he’s just a humble guide blessing you by bringing you here, then he says, “and I never come off no more, so don’t worry about it.”

And you like him enough to go along with it, cheesy Colby Jack that you are. “It’s something special,” you tell him, mostly meaning it. Well, all the way meaning it, but only in the way people look at scraps of metal in a museum cabinet, and think that it’s really something just cause the guys in tweed say that it is. 

“Benny race with you?” you ask him.

“No,” he shakes his head a little, “not his kind of…”

“What, you gotta be short like jockeys to race or something?” 

“No—“ he shoots a confused look at you, then realises that you’re joking, at his expense, and forgives you for it too, all in the same sort of moment, “—would you give it up with that?”

“Hm, think I have maybe three ‘just under six foot jokes’ left in me,” you promise, “but I’ll spare you today.”

“Yeah, you will.” And it’s as much a threat, as it is an invite, cause he’s smiling like a little something or other, and your lips find his in a real awkward, bumpy, kind of way, noses knocking as you walk, you know. Giggling and stuff. Real cutesy lovebird shit that you wouldn’t be repeating to no-one, if you wasn’t, well, you know.

“So where’d he come from then?” you ask, wrapping your free hand around the arm that you’re already attached to. Half-way close to crawling under his leathers, under the shirt and undershirt too, right under the curl of hair beneath that chain that he wears, if you could. “If it wasn’t the racing, I mean.” 

“Benny?”

“Yeah, Benny.” 

You should probably not be asking so much, now you know what you think you know—even if you don’t know it, and have just convinced yourself that you do—but it’s bothering you, well not bothering, but toying with you. He’s never wanted to say much about him and you figure you should take advantage of that sentimental look in his eye, for research purposes, of course.

“He just. He’s just always been around,” he says. “Came through one time needing something, yeah, and he stuck around when he found it. Like any of us would.” 

“You mean Kathy?” 

His face screws up, sort of like a wince almost. “No—me, the club. He needed someplace to be. Something to belong to, you know?”

“Yeah.” You know. 

“All just gotta have somewhere to belong.”

“And you ain’t let go of him since,” you think, not meaning to say it aloud, but saying it anyway, cause Hell, it’s the truth, whichever way you wanna look at it. 

He don’t like it of course. Tightens up right to the sides of his neck, and wrings his hand around the strap of the bag on his other shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “Nothin. It’s good he’s got you guys. And Kathy.”

Johnny nods. That, he can agree to, though he don’t look happy about it. You caught him and let him right back out again, cause you’re not looking to pick fights, and that bothers him as much as if you were, apparently. Keeps him all quiet and rigid as you finish up the trek to where you oughta be. 

The closer you get, the less barbaric it seems. Picnic benches, coolers, brave sorts on tartan blankets right on the rain-wet floor, but still, that sticky, dirt bike track in the middle, winding all over the place.

Not bad, all in all, suppose it is somewhere you don’t mind spending your Saturday so much. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, “for always poking my nose in.”

He squeezes your hand. “S’nothin. We’re mixing it up, right?”

Yeah, Vandal stuff and you stuff. Two hands at once. No more juggling. But, obviously, there are some Benny shaped parts of that, that don’t seem to be mixing too well at all.

You know, you and him haven’t talked once, or so much as breathed the same air at the same time, right, which isn’t too crazy, but would be if it goes on much longer than it has. Cause one time, when Johnny came by, he had Cal with him. And you said hi and stuff, before he went on again—well, it was real heavy on the stuff cause Cal talks exactly as much as you do—and another time, Wahoo and Corky were with him, yeah? And sorta, somehow, you met a few of them; not all, not properly, but a few, and never having more than a bit of small talk, you know, but it was something. 

But you never even got introduced to Benny, so you asked him once, and Johnny said that’s cause Benny is either with his lady, Kathy, or with the guys at the club, or on his own, doing something he shouldn’t. That’s it, supposedly. Course, you said, wait, what? You ain’t never gone nowhere alone with him, just you two? And he just shrugged and made a noise like you should quit talking about it, like you were asking something of him that he couldn’t explain. Like Benny was some sort of mystical kind of guy, like he wasn’t really all the way real, or something. Just a guy you only see when the light’s hitting the right place, or the stars are in a line, or some shit.

Well, today, you decided it’s gonna be different, and you’re gonna talk to him. Properly. You don’t got a choice, right? Cause you figure, you don’t know Johnny ’til you know Benny, and you’re getting real hungry for the full picture of him, if he’s gonna be around so much, that is.

“You mind sitting here while I…?” He points to the bikes, angling you toward the bench he’s apparently picked out for you. Front row, not even a splinter. High prize for the VIP. 

“Yeah,” you throw him a good smile, an easy one, “you go ahead. I’ll watch.”

He looks back at you, all sweet, lips curling, then pulls a helmet from that bag of his—cause apparently, these ones need ‘em, but the other kind don’t—and then he’s off, going like a kid. Half jogging, half walking, and heading right over there to the rest of them. 

They’re skinny bikes, these ones, kinda looking like street dogs. All wiry and bite-y, and a whole world different from the big, hulking, spoiled dogs of his usual sort. No shiny curves and nice painted metal here, just rahh, and grrr, and all that sort of shit. You know which ones you prefer just by looking. And you really know which ones you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on. 

You put your hands in your pockets and wait, looking all sorts of all over the place, cause the racers are chatting still, and no-ones going yet, and that bench actually looks as wet as it is rotten, so you got nothing much else to do other than stand there, looking about you some. 

This can’t be all of them, you don’t think, cause you see some faces you know, and a whole load that you don’t, but no where near enough to be their chapter and the new one combined. But then, is it really all that surprising that Vandals, wherever they’re from, aren’t used to turning up on time? It’ll be nearly evening before it’s a full turn out, no doubt, and, God, standing in a field that long? You had no idea what was coming when you agreed to this.

You look down at your boots, splattered with mud, and try to remember the last time you wore them for longer than a few hours. Which was a long while ago, or maybe never—though you do remember how bad the blisters were, whenever it was, so it must’ve happened once—and you suppose Johnny’s worth living through that again, just about, so you decide to stick with what you were doing. Accepting your fate and that, in with a bunch of people you barely know, looking round ’til one of them knows you too—and then you spot Benny.  

And he must’a saw you before you saw him, cause he’s coming right on over. 

He doesn’t say nothing, so you stay standing with your hands in your pockets, wondering if he was looking at you at all, or if he thinks you’re just some tagalong from Milwaukee, waiting for a bike to polish. But then he stops right next to you, and turns back facing the way he came, and puts his hands in his jacket like he’s copying you or something. 

So you stand, and it’s quiet, and he looks at the guys getting onto their bikes, engines growling and barking all at once, and you think, my God, you have never survived a silence like this. You wanna wait him out, but he could be a mute for all you know. You never even thought of that. He could’a taken a hit to the head coming off his bike and lost his nerve for speaking, or maybe he’s from Europe. Maybe he don’t know a lick of English, especially not the kind you’re gonna be talking, you never even thought to ask Johnny about that—what if it’s that? 

And the longer it goes without him saying nothing, the more certain you are that whatever you end up spitting out is gonna be the most insane thing a person could say to someone they never spoke to before. Like how’s your relationship with my maybe sort of boyfriend going? Anything I should know?

“Think the green’s got this one.”

“What?” Not mute. Not mute, and not European. Talking and pointing and waiting for you to say something back, even though he’s not looking at you, up there, under the flop of his dirty blonde hair, but waiting all the same. Like he’s fly fishing and you’re ignoring the lure no matter how much he flicks it. “Green who?”

“The bike,” he says, “don’t know his name.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Green fucking bike, what do you know? You can’t even tell the colour of the one Johnny’s on, you can’t even see him no more really, not when they go up there by that corner there. 

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” you tell him, and you know you don’t sound sorry, but him talking like he knows you has thrown you all the way off. Your big scheme to get in and get cosy now seems real dumb and real pointless. “You’re Benny, right?”

He nods. Then he pulls his arms tighter, denim pockets bunching above his waist, like he’s freezing—which he might be, cause his jacket don’t have sleeves like Johnny’s does. 

“Feels like you’re the last one of them that I ought to be meeting,” you say, and cause you’re still good mannered and things, you throw your name out for him afterwards. 

“I know,” he says back. “Johnny talks about you.”

“He does?” 

He nods again, which is real great, cause it means he talks just as little as Johnny does, but instead of humming and making noises, he just nods and looks at you. Jeez, he really does look at you. Not too long, nothing creepy, you know, but long enough like he might’ve flicked through the file-o-fax in your head and plucked out exactly what he wanted. 

“Johnny doesn’t talk about anything,” you tell him, hoping that whatever he thinks he saw, is the opposite of what you actually said. “What’s he say, ‘I’m seeing somebody’?”

To your surprise, Benny laughs at that, and shit, he’s as movie star pretty as you’d expect with a smile on his face. It just gets worse with this dude. “Yeah,” he says, “thats, er, that’s pretty much it.”

“Figures. I gotta get him in a headlock before he says shit about you—or anyone else that means something to him.”

He’s looking ahead again, but you can see he’s smiling still, even if it’s small. He really is a quiet type, two minutes in and you’re realising as much already. Even when he’s talking, or doing anything, there’s a real quiet to it, which is probably the last thing you expected to learn about him. None of these biker guys are ever like that, not even Johnny, somehow, he’s loud even when he’s saying nothing. It’s in the face, in the way he carries himself. But Benny? You could switch his colours for a church suit and believe that he was a good kid Sunday through Friday, never speaking back to no-one.

Which makes no damn sense, and can’t be the fucking case, and makes you realise all at once that he’s the sort of person you keep around just to try and solve the puzzle of him. Shy smiles and listening ears in a guy like him, riding bikes like that? Yeah, sure. The club might not be doing much as far as you know, but it sure is doing more than that, and yeah, you remember, he said it once, Johnny said Benny got all wrapped up with some cops a few times, so who the hell is this?

“You like the picnic?” he asks, flicking his head that way.

“Depends on whether there’s any actual picnicking, or if it’s just standing around watching stuff.”

“Yeah, there will be. Kathy, she uh,” he rubs his face on his shoulder, like he’s getting an itch and the itch is small talk, “she brought some stuff,” he says. 

“Then I guess I like it,” you say back. “Skipped breakfast.” And real surely suffering for it, stomach aching like you’ve not even sniffed food in years. 

He puffs a short breath through his nose, like he’s laughing without trying to. “Don’t think I’ve had breakfast since the fourth grade.”

You can’t help it, you answer like you’d answer anyone else, Benny or no Benny. “That’s sad. You know that’s sad, right? No breakfasts, not even as a kid?”

He shrugs, and he don’t seem offended, but he don’t seem amused so much anymore either. He certainly ain’t knocking back with a joke like Johnny would have. 

“I think waffles are a fundamental necessity,” you say, just to say something again. Then you put your focus on the track, cause the wheels are back now, spinning and spitting up wet dirt, and the looped route they took might’ve gone around a couple times without you noticing, cause it seems like they’re done. Like someone’s kicked a stand and thrown his helmet and started shouting like he’s a winner.

“Green,” Benny says, like you might’ve been betting against him. 

“And Johnny—?”

“Third place.”

You find him in the group, grinning like he’d won, helmet on, goggles pushed up over the curve of it. “Used to be faster, right?”

Benny shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You been with the club long?” you ask.

He chances the air, pulling his hands free and a pack of cigarettes along with them. “Feels like it,” he says.

You laugh, though it’s mostly sort of a scoff, and probably sort of rude, but, come on, what’ve you gotta do to get a real answer round here? “Jeez, between your riddles, and Johnny’s half sentences, I don’t know how you guys even found yourself to be friends.”

He cracks a light and takes a drag and you’ve pretty much given up on getting anything more out of him, when he says, “Johnny’s only like that when he’s talking to someone with more to say.”

“Yeah, yeah,” your eyes roll, “Lips, I get it. Course he’s been spreading that around already.” 

“Lips?” He tweaks an eyebrow, looking at you through the smoke.

Great. So you really are just like that. “Dumb name he’s come up with,” you say, though you’d rather not, considering he didn’t know about it until you brought it up. You and your lips. “Why don’t you have one? Don’t seem fair to me. I mean, you got Cockroach, walking round with a name like that, and you get to be just Benny?”

“Things like that aren’t planned.”

“Feels like they are.”

He smirks like you’re real crazy. “And you think I’m a special case?”

“I think you’re the favourite,” you tell him. May as well come out with it.

He snorts. The cigarette smoke goes like an ink spill around his head. “You never figure they don’t give names to people that might not stick around?” he says.

Well, that gets you, because no, you never did think of that. And now that you are thinking bout it, the truth feels like a jackhammer against you and him both. Him, who hasn’t got a name and you, who has one already, willing or not. Johnny wouldn’t stumble into a thing like that by accident, would he? 

“You move around a lot?” you ask, with all interest and no attitude. Cause if he’s right, and that is the reason, he must’a done something to make them think as much.

“Used to,” he says.

“Me too.”

“You miss it?”

“Fuck no,” you laugh, “no, I’m planning to spend a real long time in one place from now on.”

He nods, but he doesn’t comment any more on it, and you take his quiet to mean that he thinks the opposite—well, that and the way he’s looking off now, smoking like he never asked in the first place. All of that seems to you like someone who’s planning on moving around some more, some time, whenever it is, and, if you’re real honest, for a second it reminds you of Mom, and that way she’d be when she started itching for it again. Something new, something unattached. You near enough shiver at the thought. Last thing you want is to be drawing a line between Benny and your mom, at your first big meet-the-family picnic of all places.

“I better check on Kathy,” he says, pointing that way with the red end of his smoke. 

“Yeah,” thank God, “yeah sure, nice meeting you.” You smile, waving as he goes, and he takes all that weird, creeping feeling along with him. 

Half successful, half fucking weird. Benny ain’t the sort you thought he was, but you don’t like him and you don’t dislike him neither, which is probably music to Johnny’s ears, should you ever tell him that. But as he walks away you find yourself watching the back of him, and as dead-ended as the conversation was, you feel like you’re wanting to make some more sometime. Just to work him out, you know? Just to see what Johnny sees. 

* 

“You could’a gone again, if you liked.”

“What? No, nah, one’s alright by me.”

“Got it out your system?”

“Yeah, yeah, couldn’t spend all day away from you, could I? Leave you standing up there all alone.”

Couldn’t, but would’ve, if you hadn’t caught his eye over the way there and given him a look like you were real thirsty for him. Took some fighting inside, you know, to take his helmet off and leave the racing to the rest of them, but he did, sweet as he is, and came and swept you up with all the other guys that are more keen on picnicking like you are. 

And he’s sitting beside you now—well, you sat down on one of them benches there, expecting him to come right up next to you, but he went and sat on the table part, still clearly with you but above you, you see, so that his thigh’s resting against your shoulder and your neck’s half breaking just to look at him. But you kind of like it. Having the head dog sitting over you like that, hand resting on the little bit of skin between your hair and the collar of your shirt. Sure, maybe it’s possessive, and maybe he really is worrying about you seeing something in one of these other guys that you’re never gonna see. 

But the more he does that, running a couple fingers over your neck like that, the more you’re thinking he’s worked out that it gets your stomach doing all sorts of summersaults, and that’s why he likes sitting up there like that. Hell, he can sure enough feel how hot your skin’s getting, so it wouldn’t take a scientist to figure out what it’s doing to you, and at the end of the day, a man’s a man, you know? 

“You not finishing your…what was it again?”

He’s pointing over your shoulder now, at the napkin-rolled parcel of good fucking food waiting there on your lap. You had only put it down for a second to get yourself situated. Would’ve eaten it in two bites if you didn’t have Johnny to think about. “Some kind of sandwich,” you answer. “Though it’s more like a burger in a home that don’t fit it—and yeah, I’m finishing it. It’s good. It’s alright.” 

You can hear him smiling, feel it without even looking back at him to check. “Just alright?” he asks. Then his head’s down by your head, ear by your ear, eyes across the way to where Kathy and Benny are snuggling on the opposite bench. “Now don’t let Kathy hear you saying that.”

Which he says altogether too loud, exactly as he planned to do. 

“Hey, no!” And you hate to admit it, but you’re talking louder like she might’ve heard, just to cover your back that don’t really need covering in the first place. “I mean it’s good. It’s real good! They ran out of regular buns is all.”

Kathy smiles, you think, and Johnny laughs at you relaxing at it—and you would’a liked a kiss or something as an apology for getting you to fret like that, but he just leans back again and runs a thumb down your cheek at the same time, like that’s near enough the same thing. Real charmer. So comfortable already, you know, so sick that he thinks that’s enough, and so perfect and fine and sweet, that it has you smiling while you un-peel the damn napkin. You seem to be taking turns these days, over who has who wrapped round their little pinky, and today it’s your go around that bent little finger of his. Broke it coming off his bike, he says, but you know a fighting injury when you see one, and he’s certainly no type of guy to be avoiding a bust up when it’s put in front of him.

“John, who’s that skinny, mousey looking dude over by Wahoo?” you ask, before taking a mean bite of your sandwich-burger. Then you chew and chew and and God, if Kathy weren’t married, you’d be asking her yourself, before licking your lips and clarifying who you mean, “The one with the camera and the tape recorder?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, fidgeting enough to make his leathers creak. “That’s Danny. He’s a… I dunno, a sort of journalist, I guess. Yeah. Scouting out stories and things. Been riding with us for a while.”

“Yeah?” Your brows go up, ‘cause that’s the last sort of answer you thought you’d be getting. “He’s out here interviewing you guys?”

“Putting together a book, he says.”

“Hmm.” S’all you can manage to say to that, Hmm. 

On that second or first date of yours, Johnny was real antsy about the idea of you going home and typing out his secrets, and you had to be seeing each other for weeks and weeks before he wanted you to really meet everybody here, but now you’re learning that this whole time they’ve had a walking talking wire tap rolling with them? Asking Q’s and getting A’s? Yeah, feels like something that makes no sense to you, coming from the big boss himself. 

“He’s from New York,” Johnny adds, like he don’t like your silence. Like he thinks you’re weighing this Danny guy up, or something. “S’a good kid.”

“You speak to him much?”

“Nah. Spends a lot of time over at Kathy’s place.” 

Figures. He probably wants to work Benny out the way you and everyone else does—and what better way to work him out, than to get talking with his lady like that?

“Maybe he’ll want to talk to me,” you say.

“Why’d he wanna do that?”

And you don’t like the joke in his voice, so you turn right round to face him, elbows sitting on his thighs. “Why wouldn’t he? I got stories to tell.”

He’s not looking at you, but looking over your head at Danny and Wahoo still. “You’re new to the Vandals,” he says, “you don’t know nothing about it. What’ve you got to say to him about all this?”

You agree as much as you don’t. And you’re itching at the principle of it anyway, so you were planning to keep on going, agreeing or not. 

“I know you, don’t I?” you tell him. “Plus new people got as much to bring to the picture as old people, you know, and when you’re writing something up you gotta have the whole entire picture from as many people as you can get, right—and I know, I like to write too, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“So why wouldn’t he wanna talk to me? I could tell him a whole load about all sorts of things—how someone like me got all wound up with someone like you, for starters—“

“Alright.”

“And how it feels to be fitting in with a bunch of people that are as much like you as they aren’t like you, you know?”

He’s looking at you now, and in the break you take to get some air and another point lined up, he asks, “You done?” Like you’d been talking forever or something.

And you’re surprised enough that you can’t say whether you are or not. 

“I don’t want you talking to him,” he says, “about us. Can I ask that? Am I allowed to ask that of you?”

“Sure you are, Johnny.” That was beside the point. You was just giving an example, you know, of why Danny might wanna point that microphone of his in your direction. 

Johnny’s looking down at you in one of those sorta ways that reminds you he’s a father still—and a father of two girls at that. The kind of look a guy might give a lion after kindly asking him to put his teeth away. “Feels like maybe you got a problem with it,” he says.

“You don’t want me talking to him about you? Fine.” You shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, come on, I just don’t like the implication that I got nothing interesting to say to someone like that.” Which is the truth, and you aren’t anyway shy of admitting it to him. 

He hums in response, and you don’t know if it’s a ‘you’re so funny’ kind of hum, or a ‘you’re getting on my nerves but we’re in public and I can’t say nothin’ kind of hum. And you don’t get to work it out neither, cause Cal shouts from the next table over like you’d been listening to his conversation, and not your own, this whole time.

“You coming, Lips?” he says.

“To what?”

“Car show, couple weeks from now.”

Right, cause that clears it up. “Why’d I do a thing like that?”

He looks down a little, like you caught him feeling nervous about the thing. Like it was prom and you were waiting for him to ask you, or something, lone earring swinging while he doubts himself. “Well, usually,” he says, “when a guy’s going steady with someone—not to assume or presume, Johnny, every journey is a beautiful one—but, well, usually they bring ‘em along to these things.”

You’re laughing. Well, trying real hard not to, cause he’s trying so hard to be… whatever that was, and you don’t mean to come off as rude so early on, y’know? “No, I mean, you bike guys go to car shows? Where’s the sense in that?” 

“S’more of a wheel show,” Cal says.

“S’more of a something to get drunk and start fightin’ each other for no reason,” Kathy adds from across the way, conversation travelling like a bunch of fish going upstream, “you don’t wanna be there, trust me. They just like lookin’ tough to all those nice boys in the 4-wheelers there.”

And you believe her, having said no more that a few words to her in your life, cause if anyone knows about these things, you kinda figure Kathy does. 

“You wanna go?” Johnny asks, before you can say anything about the drinking and fighting part. 

You look up, and he’s frowning like he might’ve asked you something real troubling, or like he’s trying to suss you out, even though he’s already done that and more, you reckon, sussed you out down to the parts even you don’t like thinking about. 

“D’you want me to go?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, easy but hesitant, “I do, yeah.”

“Then sure.” You turn back to Cal, who’s smoked up like a teenager in the brief moment you looked away from him. “S’pose I’ll be there, then.”

“S’pose we’ll be glad to have you,” he says back, and it’s probably only the weed, but he’s smiling like he means it. Like you’ve spent a whole lifetime with these guys, and not just one muddy afternoon in a fucking field in the middle of nowhere. 

Funny how it works sometimes, ain’t it? Johnny spent so long trying to balance things between you and the Vandals, when all he really had to do was stop worrying so much, and let everything fall together. One big pile of imperfection is a Hell of a lot easier to deal with, and you don’t mind being a part of that. Dirty boots and Benny included. 

~~~~~~~~

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[httpswritings]

the girl with the hazel eyes: full story

alexia putellas x reader - sweet summer teenage love story - 6k words.

The soft rise and fall of her chest was a rhythmic lullaby to her senses. Alexia, a serene masterpiece in the dim predawn light. Her mouth was slightly parted, revealing a hint of vulnerability. A cascade of blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, creating a halo around her tranquil face. Lost in the enchanting symphony of her slumber, you'd spent countless minutes simply watching, mesmerized by the delicate beauty of her sleep. Yet, as dawn approached, you mind began to wander, carried away on a tide of thoughts and emotions.

It was the first day of summer camp. You were bursting with excitement as you began to meet the girls and boys who would be your companions for the next month. Everyone was so friendly, eager to introduce themselves, but then, like a fading dream, the world around you blurred.

Your eyes were drawn to a tall brunette standing alone, observing her surroundings. She looked about your age, sixteen, because she wore the same bracelet as you and the other people from your group. You wanted to approach her, but your feet felt glued to the ground. Your heart raced, and a weakness washed over you.

She glanced at you and offered a soft smile, and suddenly, an electric current shot through your body. You were jolted back to reality by your new friends' voices. When you looked back, she was gone, and a strange emptiness filled you.

To your surprise, you spotted the same girl as you entered your new room for the following month. She was hanging up clothes in the closet when she turned and looked at you. Her smile was even wider this time as she offered a timid, "Hi." Your feet seemed glued to the floor again, and you cursed inwardly.

"Do you need some help?" Her voice was soft.

You finally managed to move towards your bed, still unable to speak to her.

"I'm Alexia, and you?"

With a shaky voice, you told her your name. When you finally mustered the courage to look at her, you noticed her hazel eyes for the first time.

"Wow," you breathed out.

"Wow, what?"

You shook your head, feeling a rush of embarrassment at your own stupidity.

"Your eyes. They're very pretty."

To your surprise, her cheeks flushed as she giggled. "Thank you," she said, turning away to hide her smile.

-

Dinnertime was approaching, but you had no desire to leave your room. Alexia had been an incredible discovery. She’d shared stories about her life, school, and even her love for football, and you’d listened, captivated by her every word. She was undeniably beautiful, but it was her ability to make even the most mundane topic fascinating that truly drew you in.

As you both made your way to the dining hall, you noticed a group of girls pointing and whispering. They claimed to have saved you a seat. You glanced at Alexia, who simply shrugged, assuring you it was fine. But the thought of leaving her side was unbearable. You wanted to be more than just acquaintances; you wanted to be her friend, her best friend. Mustering your courage, you told the girls you’d join them next time, and then, without thinking twice, you took Alexia’s hand and started scanning the room for two empty seats.

A strange warmth spread through Alexia as your fingers brushed against hers.

-

You woke up after Alexia. The sight of her, newly awake, sent a shiver down your spine. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. "Good morning, Ale," you murmured.

Alexia smiled, her eyes still sleepy. "Ale. I like being called that way."

-

The summer camp was finally in full swing. The first activity was a scavenger hunt. As the monitor instructed everyone to pair up, you instinctively grabbed Alexia’s hand. Without realizing it, you’d caught the eye of a few campers – some with friendly intentions, others something more intense. You could practically see the growing animosity in the eyes of some people directed at Alexia as your popularity seemed to skyrocket.

Alexia was a natural at the game, and your admiration for her grew with every clue she solved. “Ale, you’re a genius! You have to teach me how you do it. I’m going to be your partner forever so I can always win!”

As usual, Alexia blushed at the compliment but seemed to genuinely enjoy your enthusiasm. Trying to play it cool, she feigned offense. “Oh, so you only want to be friends with the winning team?” she dramatically collapsed to the ground.

You burst out laughing as you helped her up. A wave of warmth spread through you as the laughter subsided, leaving behind a pleasant ache in your stomach. It was the best kind of pain you could imagine.

-

Three days had passed, and Alexia's enemy list seemed to grow by the hour. The poor girl was oblivious to the brewing storm around her, focused only on the warmth of your companionship. However, she couldn't ignore the constant attention you were receiving. People flocked to you, completely disregarding her existence, their voices a persistent hum in the background as they tried to engage you in conversation. Your unwavering responses - "I can't, I'm with Ale," "I'm already paired up with Ale," "I'm hanging out with Ale today, maybe tomorrow" - were a clear shield protecting your time together. Alexia loved the exclusivity of your attention, your delicate nature and quirky humor captivating her completely.

-

Elena, a tall brunette with captivating brown eyes, had invited you and Alexia to join a group activity that night. Alexia, ever shy around crowds, had declined, but insisted you to go. Missing her terribly, you decided to join the fun anyway.

Underneath the starry sky, you spotted a shooting star and made a wish: "To always be with Alexia." Your peaceful moment was interrupted by a boy named Mikel. His companion, Xenia, boldly asked you out on his behalf. Your heart pounded in your chest, but you managed to keep your cool. You didn't want to hurt Mikel's feelings, so you gently explained that you were a lesbian. "A very lesbian lesbian," you emphasized, trying to be clear on the word lesbian.

Returning to your room, you found Alexia asleep. Looking at her, you whispered, "Goodnight, Ale."

-

The next morning, you had no chance to tell Alexia what happened; she had already left. A note was slipped under your door: “I’m going for a walk. See you later, nena.” You pocketed it, a physical reminder of her absence.

The entire day passed without her, and the emptiness grew with each passing hour. You missed her laugh, her sharp wit, her ability to make anything interesting. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you realized you were falling for her. Hard. How could you not? She was everything you had ever dreamed of. The princess you had imagined as a child, the queen you had hoped to find—a far cry from the fairy-tale princes your friends had desired.

Bored, you hanged out with some friends and skipped dinner.

-

The next morning, Alexia was nowhere to be found. She’d left without a trace, unlike the previous day. Impatience gnawed at you, and you set out to find her. Spotting her with a group of friends, you admired her from afar, her beauty striking.

But as days turned into nights, that initial admiration soured into something deeper. It felt like Alexia was deliberately avoiding you, and the longing for her company grew stronger. You couldn’t bear it any longer. Finding her alone in your room, you blocked her exit.

"What?" Her voice was flat.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

"What?" She repeated, confusion etched on her face.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met her gaze. "You’re ignoring me, Ale. And I don’t know if I did something wrong. I miss you..."

Alexia wasn’t angry; she’d simply been trying to create some distance because her feelings for you were growing stronger than she’d anticipated. “No, I’m not. And you didn’t do anything wrong. We just have different friends.”

“But I miss you, Alexia. I’m not asking you to be glued to my side every single minute, but is it too much to ask for some time for ourselves? Just the two of us?”

Alexia’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked into your glistening eyes. Her resolve crumbled. “Okay, just the two of us,” she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

As you pulled her into a tight embrace, she felt a surge of emotions she hadn’t experienced before. A single tear escaped her eye.

-

You spent the entire afternoon exploring the forest surrounding the camp with Alexia. Though you were allowed to venture in, there was a designated limit. Alexia, however, was determined to go further.

"No, Ale," you protested, "what if we get lost?"

"You're with me," she replied confidently. "I'd never put you in danger."

Her unwavering gaze made it impossible to resist. With a sigh, you agreed.

"It's a surprise," she said, taking your hand.

For ten minutes, you followed her deeper into the woods. A sense of unease crept in, but the warmth of her hand in yours calmed your fears.

"Now, close your eyes," she instructed.

You obeyed, trusting her completely.

"Open them."

Your breath caught in your throat. A breathtaking lake stretched out before you, surrounded by a vibrant tapestry of flowers and birdsong.

"Ale... how did you find this?" you asked, awe in your voice.

"I stumbled upon it while exploring," she explained, a proud smile gracing her lips. "I knew I had to bring you here."

You were utterly enchanted. "Thank you. It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen."

"Right? Mine's the second," she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Curiosity sparked within you. "What's the first one?"

"Your eyes," she said softly.

Your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't expected such a compliment from her. Feelings you'd been trying to suppress surged to the surface.

"As much as I’d love to stay, we should head back. It’s getting late," she said reluctantly.

You pulled her into a quick hug. As you looked into her eyes, Alexia knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life surprising you.

-

A week of camp had passed, and your feelings for Alexia had deepened into something intoxicating. You were hopelessly smitten. Meanwhile, Alexia had caught whispers of a connection between you and Mikel, a rumor she couldn't quite grasp. The thought of your love, pure and sacred in her eyes, belonging to someone else filled her with a strange nausea.

You were lost in a book when Alexia joined you in bed, a habit she'd formed. She loved watching your face transform as you delved into different worlds, your expressions a captivating performance.

"Hi, beautiful," you murmured, gently tracing her eyebrows. You'd noticed how this small gesture always relaxed her.

Her eyes remained closed as she responded, "No... Keep reading. I like spending time with you when you read."

"Why?" you asked, curious.

"Because you become the book itself," she explained. "The comments you make, the sounds, the expressions... It's like reading through you."

Your chest filled with a warmth that felt like coming home. Alexia was your favorite story, complex and captivating, with a bittersweet ending you knew was approaching. After three weeks, you'd both return to your separate lives.

You opened the book reluctantly, but the sight of Alexia watching you with such adoration made the sacrifice worthwhile. As you continued to read, one hand gently caressing her, you lost yourself in the world of the book, a world that felt strangely complete with her by your side.

-

You both fell asleep on your bed, skipping dinner altogether. Hunger gnawed at you at 2 AM, rousing you from slumber. In the darkness, you could feel Alexia's soft breath against your skin, her scent a comforting presence. You drifted into a daydream of a future where you were older, sharing a home with her.

A sharp pain shot through your arm, jolting you awake. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a more comfortable position, but Alexia stirred. "I'm sorry, my girl, I didn't mean to wake you up," you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

«My girl» That nickname seemed to electrify the air. Alexia's eyes fluttered open. "I just want to shift, Ale. You can still sleep here," you explained.

She rubbed her eyes. "Are you comfortable?"

A warmth spread through you. "I've never been more comfortable," you replied honestly.

You woke up in Alexia's arms. Somewhere during the night, you'd switched positions, and now she was the one holding you. You looked up at her, her eyes already open. "Good morning, nena," she whispered, her voice soft and melodic. You smiled, burying your face in her neck, her laughter a gentle rumble against your skin as your hair tickled her. "Good morning, Ale," you mumbled into her skin.

-

Mikel’s name still lingered in Alexia’s mind. Had there been something between you two? You’d mentioned other people asking you out, but never elaborated. Curiosity gnawed at her, and she decided to ask, despite the fear of not liking the answer.

You were spending a lazy afternoon by the lake, lost in the moment. Alexia had prepared a perfect picnic spread and watched you with a soft smile as you closed your eyes, basking in the gentle breeze. She joined you, her presence a comforting warmth. You opened your eyes, your smile widening at the sight of her. Alexia had become your safe haven, a place of security and love.

"Maybe we could invite some people from the camp here?" she suggested, breaking the peaceful silence.

You frowned, turning to face her. "No, this is our place. That's why I always check if someone's following us."

Her heart fluttered at your protective instinct. "Okay, bebita," she replied, using the affectionate nickname that made you beam.

You couldn’t contain your happiness, pulling her into a tight hug. "You're adorable," she said, her voice filled with warmth.

As the hug deepened, Alexia decided it was time. "I never wanted to invite anyone else here. I just wondered if you wanted to invite some of your friends, like Elena, Greta, or Mikel."

The mention of Mikel startled you. "What? Mikel is not my friend."

Alexia's nerves spiked. "What is it then?"

"Nothing," you replied defensively.

"But did something happen between you two?"

"What!? No! Who told you that?"

She took your hands, trying to calm you down. "Just wondering. You'd make a cute couple."

Regret washed over her immediately. Your heart sank at the suggestion. "Ale, I'm a lesbian," you blurted out.

Relief flooded her eyes, but your pain was evident. It was frustrating how often people assumed your sexuality. "I'm a lesbian too, so I understand why you're upset," she said softly.

A connection deepened between you. You both shared the isolation of lesbianism. "But still, some girls have asked you out, and you didn't seem interested. Don't you find anyone here attractive?" she asked cautiously.

You sighed. "I don't think I'm looking for anything right now. Maybe in a few years. I could definitely date a girl right now, but it would have to be slow and steady. I doubt anyone here is looking for the same thing."

A hint of disappointment crossed Alexia's face. If only you knew how willing she was to wait for you. "If she loves you, she'll wait," she replied quietly.

Your heart skipped a beat. "You understand it very well. That's what I'll look for in a girl."

Alexia's heart raced. Was she hearing things, or did your words hold a deeper meaning?

-

The second week of camp was winding down, and the thought of leaving Alexia's side filled you with dread. You clung to her like a lifeline, your hands constantly seeking hers, your arms wrapped around her at every opportunity. The physical closeness was a desperate attempt to hold onto the magic you shared.

Rumors began to circulate, the whispers and glances carrying a heavy weight. You were acutely aware of the scrutiny, but neither you nor Alexia cared. Your secluded spot by the lake remained your sanctuary, a world away from the camp's prying eyes.

Alexia laid on the grass, her body relaxed in the sun. You positioned yourself on her chest, your heart finding solace in the rhythm of her breath. "It's going to take everything in me to leave your side," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper. The fear of losing her was a constant undercurrent, and you needed to know where you stood. "I'm going to miss you too, bebita. Promise me we'll see each other at least once a year."

The thought of only seeing her once a year was a bitter pill to swallow. "You could come visit me and my family over the summer, and I could do the same," she suggested, offering a glimmer of hope. You met her gaze, the intensity of her hazel eyes amplified by the setting sun. "That would be amazing, Ale. We can talk with our parents about that," you continued, then added with a playful grin, "Actually, I don't think that'll be necessary because you're coming home with me."

A playful wrestling match ensued, laughter filling the air. As you ended up on top of her, your bodies close, you couldn't help but feel a surge of love. Her gaze was intoxicating, and you couldn't resist teasing her. "You may be incredible at football, but I'm the best at wrestling," you boasted.

-

The weight of a new week crashes down on you, a cold shower of reality. Another seven days closer to the inevitable goodbye. A pang of despair shoots through you as you realize the luxury of waking up to Alexia’s peaceful slumber beside you will soon be a distant memory. She’s claimed your bed as her own, transforming it into a shared sanctuary.

Your daily pilgrimages to the lake have become a cherished ritual. The sun, a benevolent artist, paints Alexia in hues of gold and bronze, accentuating her ethereal beauty. The gentle caress of the lake breeze offers respite from Barcelona’s relentless heat, carrying with it the promise of tranquility.

Lost in admiration, you gaze at her, unaware of the blush that creeps up her cheeks. A tempest rages within her, a battle between the heart’s yearning to confess and the mind’s fear of rejection. With a delicate touch, she takes your hand, guiding you to your usual spot on the towel. Her eyes, twin pools of uncertainty, search your face for any sign of reciprocated affection. Love for you swells within her chest, but so does a paralyzing dread of your response.

“Ale, what’s wrong?” Your voice, soft and concerned, holds a power that could disarm her in an instant. You know she can confide in you, that you will listen without judgment.

"I don't want you to leave... I want you to stay in Barcelona," the words spilled out of her lips before she could stop them. You smiled at her. You'd noticed how Alexia struggled to express herself, so this vulnerability felt like a precious gift.

"I don't want to either, but I have to. Our lives are on different paths," you replied, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside. You were so focused on keeping your emotions in check that you didn't notice the tears welling up in Alexia's eyes. When you did, your heart shattered into a million pieces. You rushed to pull her into a comforting embrace.

"I’m sorry," you murmured softly, rubbing her back, hoping to soothe her. But before you could go on, Alexia spoke up, her voice a quivering whisper. "I can’t stop loving you."

Her words caught you off guard, and you pulled back just enough to look at her. She closed her eyes, as if regretting her confession, as if fearing she’d gone too far. Gently, you lifted her chin and cupped her face in your hands, softly brushing your thumbs across her cheeks until she opened her eyes.

"So? Who said I want you to stop loving me?" you said, a playful smile spreading across your face. Her eyes widened, and a soft laugh escaped her as the tension melted away.

"I love you too, Ale. Every single day, my love for you grows deeper. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without seeing this beautiful face in front of me." You smiled, and she laughed, blushing and averting her gaze.

Before she could pull away, you tugged her back toward you. "No, come here." You wrapped your arms around her tighter, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

"The thought of leaving you... it makes me feel sick," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I want to wake up next to you every morning, to hear you, to make you laugh. I want everything with you."

Hearing the sincerity in your words, Alexia looked at you with a newfound tenderness. She reached for your hands, holding them in hers, and pressed soft kisses against your knuckles, making you giggle at the sweet gesture.

"Since the first moment I saw you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. Loving you became second nature, but it’s so much more now. I want to be with you, to build something real together," she confessed, her voice steady but soft. "I know you want to wait, and I’m willing to wait with you. I’ll work hard for our future, to make it as bright as we both dream. And if it’s too much, please… don’t be afraid to tell me."

A lump formed in your throat as you looked into her hazel eyes, which were misty with unshed tears. Your own eyes stung as the emotion welled up, and you pulled her into a tight hug, your head resting against her shoulder as she cradled you gently.

"I do want to wait until we’re both more mature, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you right now," you murmured with a smile.

Alexia smiled back, her eyes lighting up. "Then we’ll go at your pace," she whispered. "I’d love nothing more than for us to share this together, when we’re both ready."

Feeling reassured, you gently brushed your hand through her hair, letting it trail down to her cheek, then softly resting on her chin. "Can I kiss you?" you asked, just above a whisper.

With a shy nod, she closed her eyes, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against hers in a gentle, lingering kiss. Your hands found their way to hers, guiding them to your waist as your own hands rested on her cheeks. Her lips were soft, warm, and every bit as perfect as you’d imagined. And as you parted for a breath, she whispered between kisses, "I love you."

You smiled, your heart overflowing. "I love you too, Alexia."

As you held each other close, Alexia reached into her pocket, pulling out a small necklace with a polished stone—one you’d admired the other day. "I made this for you," she said quietly, slipping it into your hands. "I wanted you to have something to remember me by."

The thoughtfulness took your breath away. She was the one, you were sure of it.

Later, back in your room, you couldn’t contain your joy any longer. "Ale! You’re my girlfriend!" you exclaimed, practically glowing.

She laughed, her eyes dancing with happiness. "Yeah! And you’re my girlfriend!"

The two of you burst into laughter, so elated that you started jumping up and down, the room filled with the sound of pure, shared happiness.

-

The last week had finally begun, and the weight of it sat heavy on your heart. You stirred awake, nestled in Alexia’s arms, the morning light filtering through the curtains casting a gentle glow across the room. She was still asleep, her face peaceful and serene, and you took a moment to memorize every detail—the way her eyelashes rested against her cheeks, the warmth of her arms around you, her steady breathing.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, you slipped out of her embrace and out of bed. The early morning was quiet; the world felt like it was holding its breath, giving you this stolen moment to make her feel as loved as she had made you feel every single day. You decided to find her a small token of that love.

Barefoot, you wandered down to the garden, the morning air crisp and cool against your skin. A cluster of vibrant flowers caught your eye, their colors bold and beautiful in the dawn light. You carefully picked a small bouquet, the petals soft and fragrant, before returning to the room, each step quiet.

When you returned, Alexia was still asleep, her face half-buried in the pillow, her messy hair fanned around her. Smiling, you knelt beside her and gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, then traced a finger softly along her jawline. She stirred, her lips parting in a soft murmur as her eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning, my beautiful girlfriend,” you whispered, watching her reaction as her gaze focused on you.

The words alone made her smile stretch across her face, sleepy but utterly radiant. But when her eyes moved to the flowers in your hand, she broke into laughter, the sound light and joyful as she leapt out of bed, throwing her arms around you.

You laughed as well, though you staggered slightly under her sudden enthusiasm. “Careful, Ale!” you warned, giggling as you hugged her tightly, feeling her warmth seep into you as she clung to you, her feet barely touching the floor.

“I’m not letting you leave Barcelona,” she said with a playful stubbornness, but her tone held a note of truth that made your heart ache. For a brief second, you let yourself believe it, to imagine that you could somehow stay, that you would never have to say goodbye.

You held her close, feeling the bittersweet ache in your chest, the warmth of her body against yours a comfort and a reminder all at once. Her laughter faded, and when she pulled back slightly, you caught the sparkle in her eyes as she gazed at the flowers, tracing the petals gently with her fingertips.

In that moment, you took in the sight of her—hair tousled from sleep, cheeks rosy, her eyes still a little puffy but bright as she admired the bouquet. You burned the image into your memory, knowing that someday, you would want to remember her just like this: filled with quiet joy, a simple bouquet in her hands, the morning light spilling over her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

-

You had spent the last day of camp with Alexia at the secret lake—a hidden gem nestled deep in the forest, a place only the two of you knew. The air was crisp, the sky a tapestry of soft blues and gentle golds, and everything felt wrapped in a timeless stillness. Watching Alexia bathed in the light of the late afternoon, you thought she looked like something out of a fairytale. With her brunette hair cascading over her shoulders, her hazel eyes bright with wonder, and her olive skin glowing in the warm sunlight, she seemed almost ethereal, like a fairy who belonged to this enchanted place.

As you sat together on the edge of the lake, feet dangling in the cool water, she turned to you with a soft, earnest look in her eyes. "Promise me we’ll come back here someday," she whispered, her voice as soft as the breeze that rustled the leaves overhead. She held out her hand, her pinky extended, waiting for you to make a pinky promise.

You reached out and wrapped your pinky around hers, sealing the promise with a smile. "I promise, Ale. Sooner or later, we’ll come back to this place. Just you and me." The feeling of her pinky hooked with yours felt like a small but profound vow.

A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes as she looked around the secluded spot. "But... what if someone else finds it one day?"

You grinned, leaning in close with a conspiratorial whisper. "Then we’ll haunt them until they leave," you said, feigning a ghostly tone as you playfully poked her side.

She squealed in surprise, her laughter spilling into the open air, a sound so pure and joyful that it echoed around the lake. You couldn’t help but laugh with her, the two of you caught in a moment of perfect happiness, your laughter mingling like a melody that belonged to this place. Her eyes, crinkling with joy, looked so utterly yours in that moment, like they held a promise all their own.

-

The last night together was like trying to hold on to sand slipping through your fingers, a rough, endless struggle against the inevitable. The air felt thick, heavy with unsaid words and the weight of knowing you’d have to say goodbye. Both you and Alexia clung to each other as if the sheer force of your embrace could somehow stop time. She buried her face in your shoulder, her body shaking with quiet sobs, and you held her close, whispering soft words of comfort even as your own heart ached.

You’d never seen Alexia cry like this. She had always been so strong, the one who held things together, the steady presence who never faltered. But now, as the night wore on, that strength seemed to melt away, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable in your arms. Her fingers gripped the fabric of your shirt as if letting go would make you disappear.

“I just…” she began, her voice breaking, a fragile whisper between her soft cries. “I just want to go to sleep every night with you by my side. And wake up with your beautiful face next to mine.” Her voice trailed off, thick with emotion, and her gaze searched your face, as if trying to memorize every detail.

You reached up and brushed away a tear from her cheek before leaning in to kiss her softly, letting your lips linger as both your tears mingled, a bittersweet reminder of everything you were leaving behind. You pressed your forehead to hers, your fingers gently tracing her jawline.

“Someday, Ale,” you whispered, your voice trembling but full of quiet determination. “Someday, this will be our routine. You’ll put me to sleep every night with those soft caresses, and I’ll wake you up with fresh flowers every morning. I promise. This is only goodbye for now.”

Her eyes closed, and she nodded, leaning into your touch as if she could draw strength from the quiet certainty in your words. The room fell silent, the only sounds your quiet breathing and the soft, gentle hum of the world of nature outside.

As the night slipped away, Alexia pulled you closer, her fingers gently stroking your arms, her touch light as if savoring every last moment. She stayed awake, watching over you as you drifted off, memorizing the rise and fall of your chest, the soft, peaceful expression on your face. For her, it was a ritual, a way to hold onto you, to etch this moment into her memory so it would stay with her even when you weren’t there.

In the morning, you slipped out of bed quietly, leaving her to sleep just a few minutes longer. The world outside was bathed in soft, early light, and you took a deep breath, gathering a small bouquet of wildflowers from a nearby patch. When you returned, she was beginning to stir, her eyes opening just in time to see you kneeling beside her with the flowers in hand.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Good morning, my beautiful girlfriend.”

She blinked, her lips curving into a sleepy smile as she saw the flowers. She took them from you with a gentle, grateful look that said more than words ever could. Her eyes shimmered with the same sadness that lingered in the room, but also with a quiet appreciation, as if she wanted to remember every single detail of this morning.

When it was finally time to say goodbye, the last hug felt like it would break you. The camp was filled with people saying their goodbyes, friends, new lovers, even the monitors who’d watched you grow together for a month. But none of them mattered. All you saw was Alexia, standing there with red-rimmed eyes, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

You held her close, burying your face in her shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, trying to make a memory strong enough to carry you through the days apart. “I’m going to call you every day,” you promised, your voice thick with unshed tears, “Every. Single. Day.”

Her arms tightened around you, her face pressed against your neck. “You better,” she murmured, her voice muffled but laced with a bittersweet smile.

In that moment, nothing else existed. Not the people around you, not the ache in your chest, not the inevitability of leaving—just the feeling of her arms around you, grounding you in a way that nothing else ever had. You didn’t care who was watching. You leaned in and kissed her, tears streaming down both your faces as you poured everything you felt into that one, lingering kiss. It was a goodbye, yes, but also a promise, a vow that distance would never erase what you shared.

When you finally pulled back, her hand lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. Her eyes met yours, filled with the same determination and longing that had always been there, and for a moment, it was as if she were telling you everything would be okay, that this wasn’t the end, just a new beginning.

As you took a few steps away, you looked back one last time, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. Summoning all the courage you could, you called out, “T’estimo!” letting the words hang in the air, hoping they would reach her as deeply as you meant them.

Her laughter broke through her tears, a beautiful, heart-wrenching sound that filled the air. “Jo t’estimo més!” she shouted back, her voice breaking but full of love. She stood there, smiling through her tears, waving as you walked away, each step heavier than the last.

That was the image you carried with you—the way her eyes sparkled, her smile bright even through the sadness, her voice echoing in the air. As you finally turned away, you knew that this memory, this moment, was something you’d carry with you, a piece of her woven into your heart, a reminder that love like this didn’t simply fade. It stayed, quietly, through every mile, every goodbye, and every day you spent apart.

-

Slipping back to the present, you carefully slid out from under the covers, making sure not to wake Alexia. You tiptoed through the morning quiet to the garden, where you gathered a small bouquet of fresh flowers. When you’d promised Alexia that you’d wake her up every morning with flowers, you hadn’t anticipated just how much of an early riser she was. Each day, you had to get up even earlier just to catch her still asleep.

Secretly, though, you loved it—the calm, the cool air, and the chance to watch her sleepy face light up at the sight of her daily gift.

With flowers in hand, you slipped back into the bedroom. Leaning over her, you whispered, "Good morning, my beautiful girlfriend." Your voice was soft, almost reverent.

A smile spread across her face, already knowing what awaited her. “I love that this has been the first thing you say to me every morning since that summer camp.”

You laughed, gently placing the flowers in her hand before giving her lips a light, affectionate kiss. Pulling the drapes, the room filled with warm sunlight, casting a soft glow over Alexia as she admired her flowers. Her now blonde hair caught the sunlight in a way that made it seem like the sun itself drew its warmth from her.

But as stunning as the light was in her hair, it was her eyes that captivated you. It had always been her eyes. Those made you fall in love with the girl with the hazel eyes all those years ago, only now, they belonged to the woman she’d grown into, becoming the woman with the hazel eyes.

[yellowsweater-bluevest]

“I don’t think I’m straight.”

Steve had reached that conclusion exactly ten seconds before saying it out loud. Laying upside down on the couch of his house with his best friend draping her legs on top of him.

“Is that what you were thinking about?” Robin asked, not lifting her eyes from her book.

“Yeah, it just makes sense.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve hummed thoughtfully. Did he want to talk about it? Was it important enough? Did it change anything?

“I feel the same,” he said. “I thought being gay would feel different.” For a second, Steve was sure Robin would tell him that was a stupid thing to think.

“Are you gay?” Robin asked instead, because she is Robin. She was able to ask something in a judgemental tone without being judgy.

“I'm not straight.” he repeated.

“Pretty sure there are more than two options.” She explained with a joking tone. It was lucky, she thought, that she found a zine hidden in a library when she visited her aunt in Indianapolis.

“How do I know what I am?”

“I don't know, actually,” she said, putting her book down. “I've never seen what the big deal with men is.” Robin explained, crossing her arms. “That's how I knew.”

“I definitely see the big deal with women,” Steve responded simply.

“What about men?”

“I think I always saw the big deal, I just pretended it did not exist.” Steve explained.

“Oh, sweet old denial.” She teased. “How do you feel about this?”

“I would feel better if I had better taste.” Steve deadpanned, causing Robin to laugh and kick him. He slid out of the sofa dramatically to the floor. “Kicking me while I'm most vulnerable, Buckley? I see your game.”

“I have been bidding my time to find your weak spot, Harrington.” Robin joked lightly, jabbing Steve’s legs with her foot. “You will fall, Steven!”

Steve retaliated by pulling her into the floor.

“Look who's falling now?”

“Whatever,” Robin pushed herself to sit upward, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Steve mimicked her with his back against the coffee table. “Who is the guy?” she asked.

“I don't wanna tell you,” Steve whispered, more out of respect for their tradition than anything else. “You’ll make fun of me.”

“Of course I will,” she whispered back. Steve reached for her hand to intertwine their fingers and she held him without batting an eye. “That’s kinda my job as your soulmate.” Steve chuckled. “I have to make sure whoever it is doesn’t mess up our vibe, you know?” He didn’t.

“I’m sure he won’t."

"Are you really gonna make me guess?" Steve lit up at the suggestion. Before he could speak, Robin continued "I'm not gonna guess, just tell me."

"Are you afraid of getting it wrong and looking like a fool?" He teased.

"It's Eddie." She answered less than a second later.

Steve did not respond, shocked at her quick response.

"Who's the fool now, Steve?" The smile on her face was infectious to Steve, who poker her with his foot.

"How did you do that?"

"By having eyes."

"What do you think?" She closed her eyes and hummed as Steve waited for her response.

"I think he looks at you the same way you look at him."

"I should ask him out."

"I can be your wingman!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, my god, yes!"

"We have to make a plan," Robin yelled. She jumped to her feet, letting go of Steve's hand, and dashed up the stairs. "I'm going to get some paper."

Steve stayed behind, sitting more comfortably on the floor, and removing the magazines they had on the coffee table off.

They made a plan, that ended in more of a disaster which is a story for another time. There is only one thing that is important.

Eddie said yes.

[lucimaaie]

we ✧.* tlou

pairings - santa barbara!ellie x reader

summary - ellie promised herself she wouldn’t get attached to anyone after santa barbara, look how that turned out.

warning - angsty, not proofread cause i wrote this pretty quick, short (as always),

After Santa Barbara, Ellie had no plan for the future. She’d left Dina and JJ and let Abby go. She knew would still have nightmares and the pain wouldn’t leave her. What else was there to do?

Maybe that was the reason she fought you as you tried to take care of her. “Leave me alone!” She said as you’d tried to help her up from the water, raising her arm around your neck. Thinking about it now, the memory of her weak attempt to tussle you made her laugh.

You fought as hard as she did despite being starved and traumatized yourself. She didn’t know your story, just that you were the only one who didn’t want to kill her as soon as you came out of that crowded cell. You knew that she was immune and that was it. Nothing else was important in the moment. Nothing she wanted to tell you anyway.

You took care of her so much she started to feel guilty for not returning the favor. Cleaning her wounds, taking first watch, giving her whatever food you two had left. Ellie questioned whether it was pity or too good to be true, that you’d try something the moment she relaxed. But as she got stronger, nothing bad happened. You cared for her all the same.

So she cared for you. She watched your back and let you sleep a bit longer since she knew her mind wouldn’t let her sleep. She held you the way you held her when she awoke screaming. Gave you light kisses everywhere to distract you (and her) from a haunting past she knew nothing of. Conversations weren’t your speciality. You didn’t know a lot about each other, but you knew each other.

Eventually, you got lucky and found an abandoned cabin far away from Santa Barbara and quickly settled in. It wasn’t big and there was one bed, but it was shelter. Ellie didn’t want to call it home just yet.

“We should move south.” Ellie blurted, shaking the snow off her boots onto the porch. She could already hear your lecture about letting the cold in, but that wasn’t her focus. Did she just say we? “I mean, nevermind. Here’s fine.” It wasn’t. It was cold as hell and she was tired of the cold she’d been in her whole life.

“No, why south?” You said as you adjusted the small sticks that provided at least a little warmth in the small space. Ellie came to sit down next to you, leaving no space between you. She looked at you, admiring how the orange light shone on your face.

“It’s hotter.” She held your gaze as you listened intently. “Probably make hunting easier.” Ellie knocked her shoulder into yours without much force.

“You ever been south?”

She shrugged before shaking her head. “Nope.” She looked at the fire. That might be a downside of south. No more needing to snuggle up to you to not freeze to death. South you probably have to give each other some space to cool off. “Was just a thought.” She scratched her ear. “What’d you do while I was out?”

“Counted our supply. put on the fire. cleaned our clothes. a bunch of nothing.”

“What about eating?”

“uh-no. forgot that part.”

“Course you did.” She sighed, rising to her feet and look around for the bag you two stuff all cans in. All your belongings in the cabin were generally pre-packed in case you had to run, but still the fact that you’d been able to accumulate these things together made her feel something she couldn’t describe. Annoyance was part of it. that she got so attached to you after she promised herself she wouldn’t. that it just complicated things. But that already happened the moment you’d kissed and let things go further.

“here.” She used her knife to open the can of beans and sat back next to you, handing them over.

“you do know we sleep in the same bed, right?” You hesitantly took the can and swished them around with the spoon.

“trust me i know, but i don’t need you losing body fat and clinging to me like a koala.”

“you’ve never even seen a koala.” You said, taking a bite of the beans. not bad but not good and most importantly not expired. You set the can down in the middle of you, signaling that you wanted to share. She shook her head and sighed as you pushed the can closer to her, your eyes saying ‘please.’ She took a small bite just to appease you and shoved it over to you. “just shut up and eat.” she swiped her thumb over the edge of your lip. “and stop eating like that. we’ll get you more food tomorrow.”

Hours later, ellie shot up in the middle of the night, her heart feeling like it would burst out of her chest at any moment. She choked on her own breaths as she buried her head into her knees. “it’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real—“ She mumbled the same words you did when you saw her like this.

“ellie?” You sat up as well, watching her with concerned eyes. She started to sob as she heard your voice, whether out of fear or relief you didn’t know but you didn’t give it much thought as you ran your fingers through her hair, letting her cry in your lap.

Eventually her tears stopped, leaving her with a pounding head and the comforting silence you provided. Her head rose from your lap and she pulled you into her, not willing to let go. Her head rested on your shoulder as her hands roamed under your shirt. There were no words for a while.

When there were words, they came quietly. “el?” you whispered. She didn’t respond for a while, still stuck in her swarming thoughts. “yeah?”

“where are you from?” It felt like a random question to ask, but there was no way you were gonna ask what she dreamed about.

She blinked for a few seconds, surprised. It was a simple question, yeah, but it could lead to other questions. she was scared to answer and ask back. “boston, i guess.”

“oh.”

“why’d you ask?” She let her head fall back on the pillow and tugged on your shoulder, silently asking you to turn around. And you did, facing her.

“i guess i just realized i never knew that stuff about you.” You said, fidgeting with her hands as you awaited her response. It felt like some dangerous territory, you weren’t supposed to cross. That was weird, you already crossed other, farther lines. “should i have not asked?” You whispered, tentatively.

“no, you..” She cleared her throat. “you can ask.” She finally looked at you, eyes soft with fear, pain. “i just..i don’t wanna talk about it all.”And go back there, she wanted to say.

“you don’t have to.” You scooted closer to her, laying your head on her shoulder.

Elie wrapped her arms around your back, her legs around yours, and looked at you. She let out a deep sigh as her heart beat for a different reason this time. “we don’t have to talk about it all. not right now.” we, there was a we. she wasn’t making it up. “okay,” She kissed your forehead.

thank you for reading!

[trulyumai]

belittling the reign

synopsis: the people began to doubt Geta, and in return, so did members of the senate. The emperor began to act wildly, his temper just a reach away. It all came crashing down when a man of the senate brought the empress up and how she would fall with the emperor.

pairing: Emperor geta / empress! reader

Warnings: Violence, anger, choking, death. Protectiveness/Possessive.

The room was dim, save for the flicker of torchlight dancing across the stone walls. Geta sat at the long table, his goblet half-full, eyes fixed on the dull gleam of his dagger. He had been deep in thought, tired from the endless political maneuvering of the Senate, when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his silence.

The door creaked open, and a figure entered—Marcus, a senator known for his sharp tongue and sharper ambitions. Geta didn’t look up as the man approached, choosing instead to swirl the dark wine in his cup.

“Geta,” Marcus began, his voice oozing with false politeness. “I trust you’re well this evening.”

Geta grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disdain. He knew this man all too well—his visits were never without some form of scheming. Marcus circled the room slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of the table as he moved closer.

“You know, it’s funny,” Marcus continued, his tone casual, though laced with something more sinister. “There’s been a lot of talk in the streets lately. The citizens are starting to wonder how much longer Rome will have to bear the burden of a violent ruler.” The man let out a chuckle, it reverberated through the room and Geta swore his fingers shook with an emitting anger.

The emperor’s eyes flicked upward for the first time, meeting Marcus’s gaze with a steely intensity. The senator smiled, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned against the table, arms crossed.

“They say,” Marcus went on, “that there will soon be a new emperor. A man who leads not with blood, but with wisdom. One who doesn’t lose himself to rage every time a senator dares to speak out. The people... they’re excited, Geta. They’re waiting for the day Rome is free of your wrath… Maybe Caracalla would be a better fit?”

Geta’s grip tightened on the goblet, the muscles in his arm tensing as he fought to contain his growing anger. “You tread on dangerous ground, Marcus,” he warned, his voice low and cold.

Breath in. Breath out. Remember your wife, the sweet laugh, those little dimples that littered your face when he told a good story.

But Marcus was undeterred. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and smug as he whispered, “Perhaps you’re the one who should be careful. People don’t fear you anymore, Geta. They’re waiting for your death. And when it comes, oh how they’ll cheer. Finally, a ruler worthy of the Empire will take your place.”

A dark laugh escaped Marcus’s lips, but it was quickly cut off by Geta’s sudden movement. In a flash, the emperor had risen from his seat, standing tall over the senator. Marcus stiffened, but continued, confidence seemed to block the mans rational fears. “What will your pretty little wife do when you’re gone, I wonder? Maybe she’ll find solace in someone with real power.”

That was the last mistake.

Geta’s fury ignited like a wildfire, burning through every shred of control he had left. Before Marcus could react, Geta’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. The senator’s eyes widened in shock as he gasped for breath, his hands clawing uselessly at Geta’s iron grip.

“You dare threaten my wife?” Geta growled, his voice trembling with rage. His face was twisted in a snarl, the veins in his neck bulging as he squeezed tighter. “You think you can speak to me of death? Speak to me of weakness?” He spat the words with venom, his grip tightening as Marcus’s face turned pale, then purple.

The senator’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed in silent pleas for mercy, but Geta’s rage was far beyond words now. He lifted Marcus off the ground, the senator’s feet dangling as he struggled weakly. The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Geta’s expression darkened with each passing second.

“You thought you could replace me? With my own brother?!” Geta whispered, leaning in close to the dying man’s ear. “There will be no one else, dear Marcus.  I am Rome, hm? I. Am. Rome.”

Marcus’s body jerked one last time, and then he went still. Geta held him there for a moment longer, the senator’s lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, before finally letting the body fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Geta’s ragged breathing. He stood over Marcus’s corpse, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his rage. Slowly, he lowered his hand, twisting and turning the jeweled rings around his fingers while wiping the sweat from his brow. His gaze dropped to the dead man at his feet, his heart still pounding in his chest, though calmer now.

A twisted calm, one born of violence.

“Threatening my liege. My Wife,” Geta muttered to himself, stepping over Marcus’s body as he made his way toward the door. “They will all burn before I leave the throne.”

-

The hallways were dimly lit, the flickering flames of the torches casting long, distorted shadows along the stone walls. Geta’s breathing was still ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as he moved through the empty corridors. His hands, still tingling with the memory of squeezing the life out of Marcus, twitched at his sides. Sweat clung to his brow, slicking his skin and making his tunic stick to his chest.

He could feel the weight of what he had done. The senator’s limp body, the satisfaction that had come when his struggles ceased. It was a different kind of battle—one where no soldier could see him, and no one could speak of it.

Yet, the thrill of victory felt different this time. It wasn’t the fight he was used to. He wasn’t on the battlefield, brandishing his sword, earning the respect of his men. This victory had been personal, quiet... but more satisfying than he could have imagined. Marcus had been wrong—there would be no new ruler. Not while Geta breathed.

He thought of the senators who whispered behind closed doors, plotting to strip him of his power. He thought of the citizens who questioned his rule, who had dared to entertain the idea of another emperor, a more peaceful one. And now he thought of those who might still move against him. They had made one fatal error—they underestimated his resolve, his willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect what was his. He had been lenient for too long.

His footsteps echoed in the silence as he neared the door to his chambers. The weight of his actions, the violence he was still capable of, burned beneath his skin, but as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the tension seemed to soften.

There, lying in the massive bed, was his wife—your form draped in blankets, the soft rise and fall of your chest showing the example of a  peaceful slumber. You were so..  completely unaware of what he had just done, unaware of the thoughts that now consumed him.

Geta stood in the doorway for a moment, simply watching. His wife had been the one constant in his life, the anchor to his rage. You had calmed him when no one else could. 

His breath still came in short bursts, his chest tight with the remnants of his fury. Slowly, he approached the bed, his legs heavy beneath him as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. He collapsed beside you, the bed creaking under his weight. He was slick with sweat, the heat of the earlier confrontation still radiating from his body. He exhaled deeply, his muscles sagging as he sunk into the mattress.

His wife stirred slightly, your hand brushing against his arm as she mumbled something incoherent in sleep. Your touch was soft, gentle—so unlike the violence that had consumed him only moments before. For a moment, Geta considered waking you, telling just what had transpired, but no. You didn’t need to know about the bloodshed, the threat to their life. You didn’t need to carry the burden of his thoughts.

But in the stillness of the night, with his wife sleeping so peacefully beside him, his mind churned with plans. He would not be overthrown. He would not be replaced by anyone who dared to dream of ruling Rome in his stead. Geta would seek out the usurpers, one by one. He would find every senator, every noble, every conspirator who dared question his rule, and he would deal with them the same way he dealt with Marcus. There would be no mercy.

His wife shifted again, pressing closer to him, your hand now resting on his chest, and for a brief moment, the thoughts of violence faded. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her warmth, the way your perfect body curved against his.

But even as his breath steadied and exhaustion began to pull him into sleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: no one would threaten his reign. No one would ever threaten you again.

And when the time came to deal with the rest of them, Geta knew, deep down, he would not hesitate. Rome was his. And he would destroy anyone who thought otherwise.

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Summary: After waiting all this time to have you, Suguru finally gets to taste you in a whole new way.

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Fem Reader

** A sorta Part 2 of Do Not Answer **

Story Warning: Post Partum Sex, LACTATION KINK!!!, Smut, Milk Drinking (Suguru), Mutual Masturbation, Female and Male Masturbation, Profanity because I can only be me, Sprung Suguru, Primal Play/Marking, Creampie, A Sprinkle of Breeding Kink, Fingering, Fingersucking, Sensitive and caring Sugu, Needy Reader and Needy Suguru, Missionary, Cowgirl, Dripping Titties, Got Milk??, Threats of violence sorta, Domestic Suguru

WC: 5.6k

Divider Cred: @hitobaby

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Baby…”

“Suguru, I promise. I’m sure. I’m ready. Besides, the doctor said we could…” You loop your arms around his neck, watching worry etched across his face slowly begin to fade. “I’ll let you know if I need to stop.”

The deep frown lines between his brows disappear, expression softening as he peers down at you. Since you’d returned from your most recent appointment, Suguru had been on edge, tenser than ever. But that’s been his baseline mood for the last nine months anyway. Though, today was worse than others.

Suguru knew this moment was coming and on a normal day, he’d be looking forward to it. He’d be jumping for joy at the prospect of having you. However, all he can think about is how terrible he’ll feel if he ends up hurting you. He runs one hand gently along your thigh in soothing motions, and he’s not really sure if the act is to ease your mind or his.

You’ve been beaming, going on about doing this from the moment you’d left the doctor’s office, all smiles and eager eyes. Suguru told himself he’d resist, give you more time even as you chirped an excited “I can’t fucking wait!” in the car.

But as Suguru stares down at you, all soft and beautiful lying in bed in your cute little silk nightdress, he knows he’ll give in to you no matter what. He’s weak for you. Always has been. It’s why he couldn’t let you go when he’d left jujutsu society. It’s why he took the risk of trying to win you back.

And it’s easy to give you everything you want and more when you gaze up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He really should have known from the moment he settled his hips between your legs that all you had to do was ask and he would be yours. It’s always been that way when it comes to you.

Suguru brings his face down to yours, runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours and like a reflex, you tilt your chin up to meet him. He watches your eyes flutter closed, lips pursed with anticipation. And just before your mouths collide, he stops.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks again, slight panic in his voice.

He’s certain he doesn’t sound like himself. He’s full of nerves, voice trembling the closer you get. But you roll your eyes playfully with a giggle and it calms him just a bit. “Suguru, just kiss me,” you whisper against his mouth. 

His lips meet yours hesitantly. His kisses are careful. Tender, like he’s afraid he’ll break you if he devours your lips the way he truly desires.

His hand squeezes your plush thigh and a soft whimper falls from his mouth and into yours. When you moan back into him, the sound sends tingles up his spine, making his legs shake ever so slightly. It’s been some time since you’ve made noises like that, and it does something to him. That, and the combination of your little makeout session currently happening. Suguru is struggling to keep it together. You’ve barely been kissing and he’s trying to resist pressing his hips roughly into yours. He so desperately wants you.

See– Suguru has been waiting months to be able to touch you like this again. To have you like this again. Nine long months actually.

Six weeks ago, you’d given birth to your son, the perfect blend of you and him. 

Your pregnancy had been unexpected and if Suguru’s math was right, he’s pretty sure it happened the night he’d crawled through your dorm window at the school and begged you to leave with him. It’s been almost a year since you’d abandoned all of your beliefs and hopes to fully stand alongside him as a curse user. 

After not being able to touch you for so long, just when he’d finally gotten you back, he found himself right back at square one.

But, the payoff was worth the wait. 

Not long after your defection, you’d come to Suguru in the early hours before he was to meet with the monkeys lined up outside the monastery. Your eyes were rimmed red, evidence of your tears as you stood before him. You looked ill, and you had been for some days. This had Suguru worrying. You’d been having such a hard time coping with the choice you’d made already. 

And it likely didn’t help that Yaga ripped you a new one days after your defection had become clear. Satoru had given you hell via text, promising to end you both if he saw either of you again. 

But Suguru could not have gave less of a fuck about his ex friend’s empty threats. He did, however, care about how much it affected you. It only took a few weeks for your health to decline, for you to be sick and in bed most of the day. Suguru truly believed this to be depression settling in for you. The same had happened for him. He couldn’t help but be concerned.

On the days you felt well enough to be out, you opted to be without him. And because old habits die hard, Suguru had of course had curses following you in the shadows. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything. Which was even more worrisome to him.

Where was the fiery attitude he so loved about you? Where was the woman who gave him absolute hell if he overstepped?You were nowhere to be found.

His mind began eating away at him as he tried to find reasons for your sudden change. Perhaps you had decided to return to the school and  leave him behind again? Maybe you were beginning to regret your choice… Regret him?

Well, that would just be unacceptable. Suguru could not imagine what he would do if this were the case. He’d already risked everything to have you again. To beg you to leave with him and give up all you’d known to join him in his fight. It still took convincing even after you’d joined his cause. Now you may be entertaining the idea of leaving again?

Suguru lost his mind the first time he thought he lost you.

This time, he thinks he would destroy everything and everyone in his path if he lost you again.

Luckily for him, and everyone else, all of his worries melted away when you took his hand in yours, squeezing gently and told him the news. “I know this wasn’t the plan, Suguru. I know we were going to move forward with…” you paused, choosing your words carefully, because you never knew who could be listening. “Celebrating Christmas Eve.”

He knew what you were referring to, of course.

“I don’t care about any of that.” Because he didn’t. Even as his heart roared in his ears, all he could think about was the gift you were giving him; the blessing that was now going to be coming.

A child – His child. With you. The perfect heir to his legacy.

But pregnancy had not been good to you and you spent a good majority of it uncomfortable and sick. And so, Suguru had been reluctant to initiate intimacy with you. Not because he didn’t find you attractive anymore. It was truly the opposite. In fact, Suguru found you so incredibly enticing during your pregnancy that he was afraid he’d hurt you if you became intimate. He feared he would not be able to fight his urges to fuck you through the bed if he had you.

Seeing you all round and soft? It had his dick aching. He found himself showering three, sometimes four times a day, fisting his cock as he imagined all the ways he wanted to have you. It was embarrassing, the way his body reacted to the simple sight of you. So, he had to find some sort of outlet. You were already struggling so much with your pregnancy. He couldn’t add onto that, be the reason you had more discomfort than you were already dealing with.

Now, you’re six months postpartum and you’ve been an absolute angel. You’re glowing, the epitome of beauty, ethereal almost. Motherhood has only made Suguru fall even more in love with you. 

The doctor has finally given you the green light to be intimate again. Though, with a warning to be careful as the risk of becoming pregnant again is incredibly high right now. Somehow, the thought makes Suguru even harder if possible. Some sick part of him wants to bury himself as deep as possible. Breed you again and again. Pump you full of his seed and have you round with him as many times as he can. 

A tiny groan escapes Suguru as he deepens the kiss, lips slotting sloppily against yours. Every moan he pulls from you is making it more and more difficult for him to resist pressing his hips against yours, strip you of this flimsy little fabric and make love to you until you can only think of him. The same way he only thinks of you. His hand glides up your smooth thigh, slipping beneath your gown and up to your waist. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and the gentleness does not make a bit of difference because you’re both left gasping for air between each other. Suguru’s eyes roam down your body ravenously, every new dip and curve gifted to you by your newfound motherhood so goddamn enticing. Even moreso, when he feels it…or doesn’t feel it, rather.

“You’re not wearing panties,” he mumbles, more as an observation than a question. He pulls his hand from beneath your dress to glide over the smooth material of your silky gown along your stomach, up to the valley of your breasts.

You shake your head, a cheeky grin spreading along your face. “Didn’t think I’d need them.”

Suguru hums, hooking a finger into the cup of your gown and tugging down. He watches with heated desire as your supple breast falls free from its confines. So round and full. He can’t help but run his tongue along his lips.

“Did you pump before bed?” He asks. He cups your breast gently in his palm, biting down on his bottom lip when you sigh a soft no, followed by a quiet gasp. Suguru clicks his tongue, delicately squeezing the tender flesh and honing in on the small pearlescent bead of liquid that forms at the tip of your pert nipple. His heated gaze watches as your eyes fall shut, back arching as you press your breast further into his touch.

Suguru has watched you pump many times. Watched you breastfeed and has always wondered about this–what it tastes like. It’s not as though he’s picky when it comes to ingesting things. He’s a curse eater, after all. He’s sure your breast milk tastes heavenly. Everything he’s tasted from you has never been anything but delectable. But this…this is new. This is something he’s never had from you. But he will soon.

He must have every part of you.

“You okay?” Suguru asks, gaze locked on the warm liquid cascading down your breast. He meets your gaze and because you know him so well, you nod almost immediately. He dips down to wrap his lips around your hardened bud, pulling another sigh from you, a little louder this time. 

The rush of liquid filling his mouth surprises him at first, only for a second. Then he takes his time to taste you. Your milk is rich. Sweet. Buttery. But there’s an aftertaste there that’s so incredibly intoxicating, it has Suguru’s eyes rolling straight to the back of his head. It shocks him, the way this taste travels straight to his cock, and has him painfully erect to the point that he lets out a garbled moan against your breast. 

It only takes him a few seconds, after more than a decade of knowing you, training with you, fighting beside you that he realizes this taste is your cursed energy. And it has his dick is pulsing between his legs.

‘How delightful’, he thinks. To fully have you like this. To be able to literally taste the essence of your being. To consume what makes you superior to all others in this world. 

What makes you powerful. 

What makes you a sorcerer.

The thought alone makes him want to fucking cum in his pants right this second.

But he can’t. He needs to reel it in. At least, long enough to please you. He takes a deep breath, swallows what’s in his mouth. And just in time, because you roll your hips up into his and he has to pull back with a quiet hiss. The heat of your core meeting his clothed erection has his legs quivering already. It’s pathetic. 

He peers down at you, strands of hair stuck messily to his wet cheeks. Under the soft moonlight peeking in through your bedroom windows, he can just make out the way your chest heaves with shaky breaths, the slight parting of your lips as you stare lustfully up at him. His gaze trails down to your other breast, now soaking through your gown, your milk having leaked while he was giving all his attention to your other breast.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Suguru whispers sweetly, hooking his finger into the other cup and pulling it down. “I spent so much time on one, I forgot the other.”

His hand cups your soaked breast, a thumb brushing gently over your erect nipple and you gasp again.

“Sugu…” you whine, hands coming up to grab hold of his shoulders.

“You okay?”

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage, eyes fluttering closed as he tweaks your nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Sensitive.”

Suguru hums, slowly brushing his thumb over your nipple again, groaning when he elicits the same reaction from you.

‘So responsive’, he thinks. You’ve always been, but it seems you’re increasingly so today.

When Suguru slides his wet tongue over your nipple just before taking the peak into his mouth, you squeeze down on his shoulders, a choked sob falling from your lips.

“Oh, I love that sound you make,” Suguru breathes against your breast. He drinks greedily from you, savoring every little tingle the taste of your cursed energy sends up his spine, every little mewl you let out. He’s sure his skin is covered with goosebumps.

This must feel like sweet relief for you. Your body melts into his as he mouths at you, slurps you up, devours you and all you have to offer. 

You’re delicious.

And Suguru means that literally.

When your hands tangle in his hair and pull him up from your nipple with a loud pop, it’s only then that he realizes he’s been so focused on your breasts that he damn near forgot about you.

Panting, he stares down at you. He’s certain he looks all kinds of disheveled – lips swollen and glistening, chin dripping, eyes glazed over.

And you, you only stare back at him lovingly – eyes full of arousal, hungry and wanting, lip swollen from biting down on it in attempts to stifle your moans. You bring a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek gently. You swipe your thumb along his chin, collecting whatever liquid resides there. It’s sweet, cute that you’re wanting to clean him up. But then you press your thumb to his lips, your mouth falling open as you slide the digit past the threshold until you reach his tongue. You peer up at him expectantly. So Suguru wraps his lips around your thumb and greedily sucks the remaining drops of your milk from your thumb.

Your other hand wraps around him, fingers delicately tracing a line up and down his back and Suguru releases a muffled groan. 

“I want you,” you whisper and you grind your hips into his again. He can feel your arousal through the fabric of his boxers. He can’t even stop his own hips from rutting desperately into yours and you whine softly, “Please.”

He can hear the desire in your voice. It shoots straight to his dick and the throb that follows has Suguru wincing.

There you are. There’s his girl. So fucking needy for him like you’ve always been. He loves it when you get like this. And it’s been so long since you’ve begged for him that he has to resist yanking his pants down and sliding right into your dripping cunt.

He’s so hard for you, wants to fuck you until you can’t stand. But he has to remember, you may not be ready for that. He needs to be careful with you, take his time so as to not hurt you.

“You sure?” He asks, just one more time. For his own peace of mind.

You fix him with a deadpan look, much like the one you gave him the night he’d climbed through your window and threatened to splatter your little boyfriend’s insides along the streets of Tokyo.

“Okay,” he acquiesces, a small smirk playing on his lips. He loves your little attitude.

He’ll take his time with you, let you get used to this again because god knows he’s gonna need a second or else he’ll be losing himself to you in no time. He dips his head down, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses before he lightly sucks at your skin, making quick work of leaving a mark.

In the morning, when you’re getting ready for the day, he knows he’ll receive your wrath and it will have been worth it. Suguru loves to mark you up, though it pisses you off. He only cares that it signifies to everyone that lays eyes on you that you belong to him and him alone.

His possessiveness takes over, makes him bite down on the already tender spot on your neck and you cry out, which only makes Suguru moan against you.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he nuzzles against your throat, nipping and sucking lightly as he goes.

“More,” you whimper, and your fingers trace down his bare chest, along his abdomen until they reach the waistband of his boxers. You slip your hand inside, finding his cock with ease and wrapping your hand around him.

The sensation makes Suguru buck into your fist, a weak cry falling from his lips as he thrusts himself into your hand.

“Baby…” he whines into your neck. “Fuck, wait–”

But you don’t listen. You pump his cock, matching his rhythm as you throw your head back with a soft moan.

Suguru slips a hand between the two of you, cupping your pussy and groaning when he feels how soaked you are. It’s probably for the best that you ditched your panties tonight. He runs a finger through your folds, finding your clit and massaging circles around the sensitive nub teasingly.

You’re writhing beneath him, keening quietly into the air as you stroke his cock and let Suguru mark your skin as he pleases. He’s moved onto your chest now, lips back on your nipples and he suckles any drop of milk he can get from you.

The sounds coming from you are driving him insane. The sounds coming from him are almost foreign. He’s never heard himself sound like this before, so desperate, so needing, so fucking in love with you. He wants more, wants to hear more, wants to feel more.

He breaks free of your breasts and crushes his lips against yours. When you gasp in surprise, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth while simultaneously slipping a finger easily inside of you. Your movements pause, a sharp intake of breath making Suguru pull back.

“You okay?” He asks, panic clear in his voice. “We can stop.”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, I’m fine. It’s just…” You begin pumping him again, smirking when you see the way Suguru’s jaw clenches, how his hips stutter slightly. “It’s been awhile. Keep going.”

Suguru is a little hesitant. This is exactly what he was worried about. He knew you weren’t ready. He should stop –

His thoughts are interrupted when you squeeze the head of his cock, his precum adding enough lubrication to make the sensation dizzying for him. He has to catch himself on his free arm.

“Goddamn,” he grits, pulling his finger back just slightly before burying it knuckle deep inside you again. “Fuuuucking stroke my cock.”

You have your fist tightly wrapped around his length, twisting and pumping him just the way he likes. Like you haven’t missed a beat. You gaze up at him, all flushed cheeks and eyes glazed over in bliss as Suguru slips one more finger into you.

“Like this?” You ask innocently and Suguru leans down to press a wet, sloppy kiss to your lips.

“Just like that,” he pants against your lips. “You’re s– ah – so good at that. Good fucking girl, ” he praises.

It goes on like this for some time, you and Suguru getting each other off. He feels as though his nerves are on fire, skin prickling as the pleasure begins to take over. He wants to cum so fucking bad. Wants to coat your little hand in his load and have you use it to keep jacking him off. But nothing is getting him off more than the idea of being inside of you right now. Though, he knows he’ll have to take it slow.

“I need to fuck you now,” he grunts roughly. “Need you so bad.”

He pulls his fingers from your core, chucking low when you whine at the loss. He reaches down to his waistband and you let go of him as he pushes his boxers down, working them off until he can kick them across the floor.

“You ready for me?” He asks, kissing you messily again. He settles between your legs, brows knitting when your bare cores finally meet. It’s so hot. Literally, he can feel the heat radiating from your pussy and the anticipation of your answer is killing him. You’re already drenched, coating him with your slick arousal. He wants to be inside of you. Please don’t deny him.

“I’m ready, baby.” You reach down between your bodies and take him in your hand again, position his tip at your entrance. “Please fuck me.”

He nods. Your eyes are locked as Suguru eases forward. It’s a tight fit, and Suguru doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to get all the way in without blowing his load.

“Oh god,” he groans. “Fucking tight as shit, baby. Fuck.”

He keeps going, pushing in and parting your walls with difficulty even though your core drips for him. It's as if you've gotten even tighter since giving birth. Suguru has to pull back slightly several times and try again before he’s all the way in. He has his eyes squeezed shut, fists clenching the sheets tightly. 

You whimper beneath him, hands having now found Suguru’s biceps and gripping on for dear life. It’s a slow, delicious, painfully snug journey through your walls. And when he finally bottoms out, he takes time to look at you. You’re biting your lip, breaths coming rapidly as you grasp onto him.

You’re so fucking beautiful like this.

He's embarrassingly hard. He wonders if you can feel it. He thinks you can, from the way you squirm beneath him.

“Good?” He asks, checking in again and you roll your eyes.

“Yes. Now fuck me.”

Suguru rears his hips back, watching as your lips part with a quiet gasp just before he rolls his hips forward. He does it again, just so he can hear you make that sound one more time. Then he does it again and again.

His movements are slow, careful. He gives you soft and languid thrusts that have you digging your nails into his arms, has him gritting his teeth so he doesn’t cum. He can hear and feel how absolutely wet you are with each agonizingly slow thrust. 

It’s driving him insane to be so gentle. He wants to fuck you so bad, destroy your little pussy, bury himself so deeply inside of you he can’t fucking see straight.

And it’s like you know this, because you whisper his name. When he looks at you, you’ve got a cute little pout on your lips, glaring up at him. He tilts his head questioningly.

“Suguru, stop treating me like you're gonna break me…” You loop an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a rough, sloppy kiss before pulling back just slightly to tell him, “...fuck me like you mean it.”

And he does. Doesn’t need you to ask twice. With a deep groan, Suguru pulls his hips back, all the way until just his tip sits inside of you. Then he thrusts forward, plunging into you over and over.

Each snap of Suguru’s hips brings a new sound from you. It’s music to his ears – this mix of your mewls, his grunts and moans, his balls slapping against your sopping cunt. He’s losing himself in you, the way he always does, swallowed by your warmth.

“Ah…I- I’ve been waiting so long for this, beautiful. Been craving this - ngh - pussy for months,” Suguru rasps, dipping his head down to find your breasts. He can already see the bruises forming along your skin from where he marked you earlier and it has him choking out a soft sob. He pounds into you hard, fast, chasing his high as he watches your breasts bounce with each thrust. “Missed your pretty little cunt. Missed fucking you so bad, baby.”

He licks a long strip between the valley of your breasts, eyes rolling to the back of his head and hips stuttering when he tastes the remnants of your breast milk from earlier. 

“Yeah, babe?” You ask, pressing your hands against his chest.

You move your hips against his, meeting every thrust eagerly and Suguru inhales sharply. “Fuck yeah,” he murmurs, kissing his way up to your lips. Just before he meets your mouth, you push against him and shift your weight, effectively rolling you both over so that you’re not straddling Suguru. His hands find your waist immediately.

“I missed you. So fucking much. Couldn’t wait to have you again,” you sigh as you lean down to kiss your lover. Your hips begin to move, grinding yourself down on Suguru. His back arches, the feeling of him tapping against that spongey in your walls completely overwhelming him.

“Shit.” Suguru watches you move your hips against him, feels his dick twitch within your walls at the sight. “Feel good, baby?” He asks. Because it damn sure feels good to him. Suguru thinks he may lose his mind just watching. You sit up and his eyes follow you, watching the way your kiss swollen lips part as you let out another moan when he thrusts up into you.

You can’t do anything but nod your head, your hands falling to Suguru’s chest to keep your balance as you bounce on his cock. His gaze drinks in all the dips and curves of your body until they find where you two connect. He watches as you roll your hips forward, as his cock disappears into your pussy over and over. A quiet moan rushes past your lips and Suguru’s hands find your ass while you grind down on him. You’re so wet, he can feel your arousal dripping down his cock, drenching his balls.

“Oh my god, Suguru,” you cry out quietly, halting your movements to lean down and crash your lips into his again. “Feels good, feels so fucking good,” you gasp between kisses. Suguru pushes against your ass, prompting you to keep going.

“Don’t stop, baby. Fuck me like you mean it,” he repeats your earlier words, a sly grin on his lips when he smacks your ass, making you yelp.

You sit up, lifting your hips all the way up until just the tip of his cock sits inside you. Suguru’s eyes are glued to the view and he can visibly see himself pulsing between your legs. He lets out a low hiss that quickly turns into a loud groan when you slam your hips back down on him.

“Shhhh,” you shush him. “Gonna wake up the whole compound.”

He grips your ass tighter. “I don’t give a fuck. Let them hear us.” He gives you a particularly harsh thrust that has you keening loudly. He thrusts again and you let out another sharp cry. “Want them to hear me fucking the mother of my child, fucking my whole heart tonight.”

The air is filled only with the sounds of the wet slap of your hips meeting, your soft gasps and moans, the bed creaking with every hard thrust he gives you. Suguru’s eyes roll back, each pump of his cock in your pretty little cunt bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Your walls are so tight, so wet, so hot, squeezing the life out of him. 

“Tell me you love me. Tell me you love my cock, baby. Tell me you missed fucking me as much as I missed fucking you.”

Your nails dig into his chest as you cry out his name, tell him all about how you craved his dick, wanted him so badly it drove you crazy some days. The feeling of his tip pressing against your most sensitive area with each pump lighting a fire in both your cores.

“Fuck, baby,” Suguru gasps, voice hoarse with arousal as he stares up at you with nothing but love in his gaze. “So sexy. Look at you. Riding my cock so good – fuck.”

“Suguru,” You gasp as he holds your hips, keeping you in place as he fucks up into you pace increasing. “I’m…I’m gonna cum, Suguru. Fuck. I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum on my dick, baby. I wanna feel it. I need to feel it,” he grunts, driving into you. He feels his balls tighten, his release approaching quickly. He tries to stave it off, but then he feels it. Feels warm droplets of liquid hitting his chest and his stomach. He follows the trail, eyes landing on your breasts and the droplets falling from your pert nipples and onto him.

The sight is so erotic, so goddamn sexy, it sends chills racing up Suguru’s spine. You, taking his dick so fucking well, your breasts coating him in your essence, the very essence he got the luxury to taste early and god, did it taste incredible. Your mouth slack and eyes pinched shut as you dissolve into pleasure on top of him.

One more drop hitting his skin.

Your walls squeezing him for all his worth.

Your mouth crying his name.

It’s enough for him to shatter beneath you, enough to trigger that first rope of cum shooting from his cock. 

“Shit, oh– oh fuck, baby, I’m cumming,” Suguru sputters, holding your hips painfully tight and with one last powerful thrust, he shoves himself as far as he can go before emptying himself inside of you. His muscles tense, breathe hitching as he rides out the shockwaves of his release. Every pulse of his cock is met with your walls sucking him back in, milking every drop from him.

He thinks he’s seeing fucking stars, the muffled sound of your moans drowned out by the pure euphoria he’s experiencing right now. He doesn’t even notice that excess of cum that leaks from your core and onto his groin. He feels that damn good.

Suguru’s head falls back on the bed and his grip on you loosens, leaving you to lay your weight down on him. Both your breaths come rapidly, your matching heartbeats racing against each other’s chests. And this is Suguru’s favorite part of it all. He loves this, loves the feeling of you pressed into him, loves the feeling of you completing him. 

His eyes drift shut, his fingers tracing a line up and down your spine. And for the first time in almost a year, he lets himself fully relax.

- - - - - - -

The warm beams of the early morning sun peek through the bedroom. Suguru shifts, turning onto his side to get more comfortable.

Until he realizes something is missing. His eyes shoot open and he sits up quickly in the bed, eyes roaming the room for you. When he finds no trace of you in the room, he decides it’s time for him to get up, too.

You’re likely up with the baby and he wants to help you with his morning routine.

He makes his way across the room to your master bathroom and when he opens the door, he’s met with a cloud of hot steam and the sight of you naked in front of the mirror. You’re scowling, craning your head to the side like you’re looking at something.

He sees it the moment your hand reaches up and touches your neck and your chest. You’re riddled with hickeys and bruises, marks covering almost your entire upper body. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, a murderous glare staring at him in your reflection.

And it’s not like Suguru is particularly sorry. He wants you to be all marked up and claimed so everyone knows you’re his. But that look in your eye tells him he really may be in danger here.

Luckily for him, the shrill cry of his son pierces through the tension. So he shoots you a smug grin and backs right out the door.

[mimasroom2]

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

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- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

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