#i spent all day on this and i shouldn't have but i did so please read it and like it and be nice to me

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

So, based on the post @nientedenada made on Altmer names, I've devised the names for my Hero of Kvatch's family, all the way down the line to my Last Dragonborn, Leara.

Avarenya, my HoK; Oromis, my Sheogorath; and their two brothers, Amroth and Rumil, belong to a noble house in the city of Cloudrest. Their father and his brother:

Elmoriar, their father, is the younger of two sons of the Lord of House Stardust. His uncle, Elglorion, maintained a manor house in the city of Skingrad, which he left to Elmoriar in the event of his death. Elmoriar gifted the house to Oromis in 3E 401. Resents his elder brother as he does not believe Celengon takes being heir seriously.

Celengon, Elmoriar's older brother, is the heir to House Stardust, but he is a staunch bachelor. Oromis was originally groomed to be Celengon's heir before Oromis left to join the Arcane University. Celengon becomes Lord Varlarata in 3E 434 and is later succeeded by his nephew, Amroth, in 4E 98.

Their paternal grandparents, Lord and Lady Varlarata:

Elcaranon was the Lord of House Stardust from c. 3E 100 to 3E 434, at which point he was succeeded by his older son, Celengon. Elglorion was his younger brother. He was a strict and practical person both at home and in court.

Lothmiriel was Lady Stardust from c. 3E 100 to until her death in 3E 407. She was not fond of her daughter-in-law, Morwen, but doted on her grandchildren, particularly Avarenya, who was the only girl.

Their mother's side of the family:

Morwen, their mother, is an only child. She is very ambitious and seeks to elevate her station through her children. After the death of Lady Varlarata, she acts as hostess for her father-in-law.

Arkano, Morwen's father was a commander in the Welkynars in Cloudrest. He came from a long line of Welkynars, but is the first to achieve commander since the early Second Era. His grandson, Rumil, serves under him during the first part of his career.

Filiglan, Morwen's mother, was a sister to a respected vintner. Hér pedigree was clean, if lower than typically acceptable. She encouraged Oromis to follow his dream of joining the Arcane University.

The above are the two lines joined in Oromis, Amroth, Avarenya, and Rumil. Therefore, their name is:

'len Morwen Arkano Filiglan 'ata Elmoriar Elcaranon Lothmiriel cal' Varlarata

Avarenya ran away from Summerset in 3E 426. She was subsequently disowned. She then spent the next seven years bumming out in her brother Oromis's house during which time she tried to compete in the Arena and then joined the Fighters Guild. Then everything changed when the Mythic Dawn attacked.

In 3E 433, Avarenya became the Hero of Kvatch. At some point later in the Oblivion Crisis, she and Martin Septim slept together. They were IN LOVE! Not long after that, Martin destroyed the Amulet of Kings, mantled Akatosh, and defeated Mehrunes Dagon. He then turned into stone, leaving Avarenya knocked up and alone.

Subsequently, Avarenya hid out in Oromis's house. She didn't tell anyone she was having Martin's baby — few people knew she was even pregnant. Avsrenya and Martin's son, Magnus, was born in Evening Star, 3E 434/4E 1.

Concurrently:

Oromis, a member of the Arcane University's Council of Mages, has gone to investigate a mysterious door in Niben Bay. About the time his sister kills Mankar Camoran, Oromis mantles Sheogorath.

Amroth, after Oromis has renounced his rights to the house lordship, is Celengon's heir. With his grandfather Elcaranon's death, Amroth is heir presumptive to the Varlarata title. In the decades leading up to the Oblivion Crisis, Amroth fell in with a fringe group, which would later become the ruling body of Summerset.

Rumil is an active Welkynar. He got serious flytime during the Oblivion Crisis. Rumil is the only one having a good time right now.

Avarenya raises her and Martin's son, Magnus, in Skingrad. Despite being disowned by her parents, it is very important to Avarenya to give Magnus an Altmer name. Unfortunately, she never knew Martin's mother's name (neither did Martin), so she inserted a generic "Unknown Mother" type deal into Magnus's name.

Magnus 'len Avarenya Elmoriar Morwen 'ata Martin Uriel Lenvvahta cal' Septim | Racuvarla

While Magnus is technically a Septim, Avarenya gives him a different last name, one which she adopted for herself after being disowned. She belonged to House Stardust, but now her rights to the Varlarata name have been revoked. In response, Avarenya becomes a Fallen Star:

Varlarata = Stardust; Racuvarla = Fallen Star

Oromis, now Sheogorath, bestows a pair of magic rings to his sister which alter outward appearance. Daedric in origin, the rings are made of madness ore and fire, and confuse any Aetheric based magic that may try to undo the enchantment. While the ring does nothing to Avarenya, it changes Magnus's appearance to make him appear fully Altmer rather than Half-elven.

Avarenya is killed in c. 4E 11. Magnus is afterward a ward of Janus Hassildor. At 23, Magnus leaves Skingrad for High Rock, as the political situations in Summerset and Cyrodiil are increasingly tumultuous. He eventually settles in Wayrest.

Magnus appears Altmer, save for his blue eyes, which he got from his father. To cover these, he wears one of the rings Sheo!Oromis gave Avarenya. He meets Linley, a Priestess of Mara, in 4E 80. It is a long time before he tells her his full name. They marry in 4E 85. When they have the twins in 4E 87, they make the conscious decision to change his (famous) parents' names when naming Marelen and Avrose.

'len Linley Ardil Alpenwe 'ata Magnus Atavahta Avarin cal' Racuvarla

In omitting Martin's name and altering Avarenya's, the twins' connection is much less obvious to anyone taking a cursory glance.

Marelen, the older twin, is magically gifted and enjoys trolling the Thalmor agents that nose around High Rock. She marries a Breton blacksmith named Thoronis Ormand (his father Antoine named Thoronis after the Direnni he worked for) in 4E 133. Their daughter, Maragathe, is born in 4E 137. She is killed in 4E 148 by order of Lord Varlarata, aka Amroth, who is unaware he's taken out a hit on his niece.

Avrose, the younger twin, is less headstrong and actionary than her sister. She marries an Altmer teacher in Wayrest, Vorondon, in 4E 119, and they have a son, Erbane, born in 4E 132. She takes in her niece after the deaths of her sister and brother-in-law in 4E 146 and 4E 148.

Magnus dies in 4E 142 while his grandchildren are still young.

Marelen does not give Maragathe an Altmer name. She and Thoronis are more inclined toward Breton culture. Marelen names her daughter Maragathe Elanor Ormand, leaving only a nod to her High Elven heritage in the form of Maragathe's middle name. In contrast, Avrose does give Erbane an Altmer name.

Erbane 'len Avrose Magnus Linley 'ata Vorondon Hendunar Anorien cal' Bostor

in 4E 148, Maragathe goes to live with her aunt and uncle. Avrose's husband, Vorondon, discovering Maragathe to be a prodigy, trains her in magic. Maragathe's lone handicap is her low magicka regeneration rate, due to her being born under the Atronach. Avrose gifts her with a moonstone diamond ring that boosts her regeneration rate (regenerate magicka 100%}.

In 4E 155, a training accident results in the death of Vorondon. While the accident isn't Maragathe's fault, she subsequently runs away from home. Avrose is devastated by her husband's death and her niece's running away. Linley moves in with her daughter and grandson at this time.

In 4E 156. Maragathe joins the Blades under her middle name, Elanor. When she is sent to Alinor to infiltrate the Aldmeri Dominion in 4E 166, she does so using her mother's ring. Maragathe Elanor appears very Breton, save for her height of 5'11" (180 cm), white gold complexion, and the sharper taper to her ears. With the use of her mother's ring, Elanor appears entirely Altmer. Under the cover name Vilya, she devises an Altmer name based on her uncle, who was respected in Wayrest, and though he was not committed to the Dominion, he wasn't vocally defiant of it either.

Vilya 'len Lomiel Atavahta Lenvahta 'ata Vorondon Hendunar Anorien cal' Bostor

"Lomiel" is a fictitious woman Maragathe Elanor Vilya invented to act as her mother. As her uncle is dead, no one can uncover the validity of her lineage, but it is enough for her to gain a position under Elenwen in Alinor.

This is the last use of the Altmer naming scheme in the Racuvarla line. Erbane marries a Breton woman and names his son in the Breton style. Maragathe Elanor Vilya Leara names her children in the Nordic fashion: Martin Ulfricsson and Kyneiren Ulfricsdóttir.

Although if you're shipping Rosewing, Leara's kids are simply Kendov and Kaandrem respectively.

The Varlarata line is continued through Amroth's children Calmirien and Thorondon:

'len Galadien Cuillas Celithil 'ata Amroth Elmoriar Morwen cal' Varlarata

Rumil has one child, a daughter:

Armirel 'len Lindis Caragon Rohiren 'ata Rumil Elmoriar Morwen cal' Varlarata

Armirel, Calmirien, and Thorondon are Erbane and Leara's first cousins twice removed. As of 4E 201, Thorondon is heir to House Stardust.

[martsonmars]

desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe

[delulujuls]

healing sessions | aegon II targaryen

hi, it's been a hot minute since i posted here, the last weeks were pretty intense for me and since i have a summer break now, i would like to start writing again and do it more regularly.

this is something new here and since new episode of hotd dropped, im in my westeros era, so please prepare for something other than my last shots (i will still write for f1, don't worry)

and lemme set this straight, im team black till the day i die but those green bastards are FINE AS HELL lmao. also @alicenthightcwer is author of those gifts

summary: aegon isn't dealing well with his father loss, but gladly there is someone who's gonna do her best to lift his spirit a bit

warnings: it's fluff without basically any plot, sister x brother romance so targaryens at their finest, mentions of death, depression, alcohol, drugs

pairing: sister!reader x aegon targaryen

The news of King Viserys's death did not surprise the residents of King's Landing. Nonetheless, the loss of the kind ruler dealt a painful blow to the city, which seemed to freeze in time with the king's passing. The capital plunged into mourning, and in addition to the banners, black flags were hoisted. Westeros was left without a king.

Viserys's successor, his second child and first son, Aegon Targaryen, had not been seen since the king's funeral. Aegon had lost not just a king but, most importantly, a father who, unfortunately for him, named him the future ruler on his deathbed.

Aegon would have gladly given the throne to Rhaenyra, his older half-sister. He would have done it without hesitation, even placing the crown on her head himself. Unfortunately, his mother Alicent, who was with her dying husband and heard his wish to elevate their eldest son to the throne, decided to fulfill her beloved husband's last wish at any cost.

To be honest, Aegon couldn't care less about being king. The young prince had not left his bed for several days, thick curtains blocking any light from outside. Occasionally, servants were allowed into his chambers, but only with wine and poppy milk. Aegon did not eat, allowed no one near him, and slept. Sleep was his salvation. Even the prostitutes, who once outnumbered the rats in the castle, were no longer summoned. The fiery prince had dimmed.

Alicent knew she needed to give her son time to grieve. She didn't bother him, only inquiring about his condition from the servants who managed to enter his chambers. It was enough for her to know that he was alive. Aegon's siblings dealt with their grief in their own ways, and his condition hardly impressed anyone. Except for Y/N, who, despite her own pain, worried about her brother. Sitting at breakfast, she silently observed Aegon's chair, which remained empty. After her husband's death, Alicent decreed that all meals, not just dinners, be taken together. The firstborn had not appeared at any of them since.

After a silent breakfast punctuated by brief, formal conversations, Y/N stood up and grabbed a plate, filling it with Aegon's favorite croissants and a portion of strawberries. She was done pretending nothing was wrong. This had to end.

"You shouldn't go to him," Alicent said quietly as the servants began clearing the table. "You know him, he'll come out when he's ready."

"Or he'll drink himself to death first," she replied, not even glancing at her mother. Alicent clasped her hands and pressed them to her lips, watching her family fall apart without knowing how to stop it.

Y/N left the dining room and went to Aegon's chambers. She knocked first, wanting to maintain decorum, but knowing it was futile, she grabbed the handle and pushed the heavy door open. Inside was darkness. Only a nearly spent candle by the bed gave off any light; the room looked like a cave. She blindly set the plate on a table, and with arms outstretched, she made her way to the windows. With a swift motion, she drew the curtains, and even she was blinded by the sudden light that flooded in. Not hearing any curses from her brother, Y/N looked over her shoulder. On the large bed, a figure lay curled up, back to her. From the waist down, he was covered with a sheet that blended with his pale skin. White hair in disarray touched the crumpled pillow. Aegon was either in a deep sleep or dead.

Y/N opened the curtains at every window, flinging some open. The room was stuffy, reeking of stale alcohol, sweat, and the sweet scent of poppy milk. She circled the bed, crouching opposite her brother. He was indeed asleep, but his breathing was shallow. His lips were cracked, stained with dried blood. His eyelashes were matted with tears, and dark circles marred his eyes. There was a bruise under his left eye that was different from the ones under his eyes, as it began to fade and turn from purple to green. Y/N remembered her mother, who had been rubbing her hand while sitting at the table for several days. She could only guess that Alicent was trying to shake her son off in her own way.

Aegon slept, lying on his side and hugging himself, seeking comfort only he could provide. Y/N brushed the tangled strands from his forehead and kissed him. Aegon did not stir.

The princess knew he wouldn't allow servants to tend to him. She left the room quietly, asking the maids to prepare a hot bath quickly and silently. Y/N returned and sat beside him on the bed, gently stroking his head.

Aegon wasn't the bad person many thought him to be. True, he was unique, and in a room full of people, he was impossible to ignore, but no one is born evil. Now, Aegon was simply engulfed in darkness from which he couldn't free himself. The slender, sticky fingers of depression had tightened around his throat, allowing only alcohol to pass.

After some time, a maid stood by the bed, whispering that the bath was ready, nervously glancing at the sleeping prince, afraid of waking him up. Y/N thanked and dismissed her, then leaned in and kissed her brother's forehead again.

"Aegon..." she began softly, close to his ear. "Wake up, I have strawberries for you."

He furrowed his brow, feeling her hair tickle his face. At first, he thought it was a dream or a drunken hallucination, but when he felt the urge to sneeze, he wiped his face with his hand. When he opened his heavy eyelids and saw how bright it was, he pulled the pillow over his head.

"I said no one was to come in," he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow. "I'll have you killed for this."

"It's nice to see you too, considering I haven't seen you in over a week," she replied, sitting back on his bed and placing the breakfast she brought on the table beside him.

Hearing the familiar voice and wanting to ensure it wasn't a drunken hallucination, Aegon removed the pillow from his face, clutching it to his chest. From squinted eyes, his violet gaze spotted a well-known figure.

"Y/N?" he asked hoarsely, his voice betraying that he'd only spoken to chase away servants in the past days.

"Yes, it's me," she nodded. "And if you still want to kill me, you'll have to get out of bed, which I doubt you can do."

Aegon sighed, more of a grunt of dissatisfaction. He wanted to cover his face with the pillow again, but his sister took it and easily pulled it from his arms.

"Did you come here just to make my life more miserable?" he groaned, looking at her with displeasure.

"I came to stop what you thought was the best solution," Y/N explained. "I brought you breakfast and a hot bath."

"I don't want breakfast or a bath," Aegon replied, turning onto his other side. "And you can leave. Tell mother I'm not dead yet."

"I'm not leaving until you get out of bed," she informed him, staring at his back.

"Then enjoy your stay," he muttered, closing his eyes again.

Y/N sighed. She knew it might be hard, but in a few days, she had almost forgotten her brother's character. And Aegon's character was sometimes the textbook definition of a Targaryen.

"I came here because I want to help you," Y/N began, feeling a lump in her throat. "No one talks to each other, and when they do, it's just some fucking formalities. Aemond flies on Vhagar every day, Helaena spends hours in the garden with her books, Rhaenyra has been on Dragonstone since the funeral, mother is banging with Cole at every turn, and I don't even know if you're alive," she said in one breath, feeling tears prickling her eyes. Only when she said it all out loud did she realize what was happening. It wasn't just about informing Aegon; it was about making herself understand. The truth hurt her even more than she expected.

Hearing his sister's trembling and upset voice, Aegon sighed and turned onto his back, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Only now could his sister see his full appearance. It was the image of a boy deep in mourning and struggling with unimaginable pain.

For a moment, they exchanged looks in silence until Aegon glanced at the nightstand beside his bed.

"Did you bring strawberries?"

She reached for the plate and placed it on the bed next to her brother. Aegon weakly lifted his hand and took one, eating it whole, including the stem.

"Croissants with filling?" he asked, chewing. Y/N nodded again.

"Nut and chocolate," she answered. Aegon silently took a croissant and slowly began to eat.

Y/N quickly wiped her cheeks as two single tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. The young prince looked at his sister, who also seemed different than he remembered from a few days ago. Her hair was still neatly combed, with a few small braids woven into it. The dark red dress, which he thought he had seen her wear before, now seemed to hang a bit loosely on her shoulders and wrinkle at the stomach. The color of the dress reminded him of the bloody cuticles around her nails, which she must have bitten out of nerves. Her face, still beautiful, was now paler than usual, almost as white as her hair. Her swollen eyes lacked their usual sparkle, and her lips seemed to have completely forgotten what a smile was.

"How are you feeling?" he asked after a moment when he had finished eating. Y/N pushed the plate closer to him, and as he reached for another croissant, she only shrugged.

"I'm sad. And I sleep poorly," she replied, staring out the window.

"You know, poppy milk—", "I won't drink it," she interrupted him.

Aegon raised his hands in a defensive gesture, taking another bite of the croissant.

"And you?" she asked, looking at him. "How are you feeling?"

He also shrugged.

"I don't even know. Now I think I feel nothing," he said, looking back at her. "Most of the time I feel nothing, except when a wave of sadness hits, and then I cry like a child until I fall asleep again."

Y/N nodded silently. She could tell that Aegon had spent many hours crying.

He put the last piece of croissant in his mouth and reached for a strawberry, handing it to his sister. She took it and ate it, nodding with appreciation.

"Not bad, right?" Aegon said, seeing her reaction. "Unusually sweet for this time of year."

Y/N let out an involuntary snort, lowering her head. Their father was dead, the country was without a king, the family was falling apart, and this idiot was talking about how great the strawberries were.

"They really are good, I don't know what you mean," he replied, taking the last strawberry and popping it into his mouth. The girl smiled, for the first time in a long while, then looked at her brother.

"I miss you, you know?"

"I'm not dead yet," he said sarcastically, rubbing his face with his hands. Y/N set the plate aside, and Aegon extended his arm toward her, silently inviting a hug. The girl shook her head and stood up.

"Maybe I miss you, but not enough to hug you after so many days without a bath," she replied, nodding her head towards the bathroom.

"You've got to be kidding," he snorted, but she shook her head again and pointed to the bathroom. Aegon sighed and slid off the bed, looking at her reproachfully the entire time. When he stood, the sheet slipped off completely, and he, naked and unbothered, walked unsteadily toward the bathroom. Y/N asked the servants to change his bedding and clean the room while she locked herself in the bathroom with him. As he sat in the water, she perched on the edge of the tub, rolling up the sleeves of her dress.

She reached for the nearby comb and slowly began to untangle his matted hair. They both remained silent, as words were completely unnecessary at that moment. After a while, she put the comb down and picked up the sponge, wetting it and pouring water over his hair. Aegon closed his eyes and tilted his head forward.

Y/N grabbed the soap and lathered it in her hands, adding a few drops of lavender oil. Aegon smiled as the familiar, pleasant scent filled the air, while she began to wash his hair. He sat there with his eyes closed, allowing his sister to take care of him. Aegon felt that of everyone in the family, only Y/N truly cared about him. Despite being the second youngest sibling, just after Helaena, he had always gotten along best with her. They were almost inseparable, always sitting together at feasts, stuffing sweets into their pockets to eat later in the garden when they managed to escape the table. Rhaenyra, their half-sister, was always the oldest and most composed. Aemond, younger than Aegon, was calm and collected but could stab a knife into someone’s neck without blinking if provoked. Helaena lived in her own world, surrounded by books, flowers, and maesters who had tried to help her ever since they noticed something was off with the growing princess. Aegon was often irreformable, acting and speaking first and thinking later. When he was younger, he was incredibly unruly, the mastermind behind every wild idea that Y/N almost always eagerly supported. The young princess loved her brother, who always tried to make her smile. Aegon loved his sister and knew that of all the people in the castle, she was the only one he would kill for and die for either.

Young prince winced quietly when Y/N, massaging his tense shoulders, ran her thumb over a particularly tight muscle.

"You're as hard as a rock," she said, continuing to massage his back. Aegon smiled to himself.

"Not quite yet," he joked.

She rolled her eyes and soaked the sponge again, rinsing the soap off his back with warm water. As she got up to stoke the fire, Aegon submerged himself in the water, washing the soap off himself and his hair. After a moment, he sat up straight and wiped his face off, leaning on the sides of the tub. He silently watched his sister, whose silhouette was highlighted by the flickering fire in the fireplace. Her white, slightly wavy hair cascaded down her back. The young prince smiled and bit his lip. Blood of my blood.

When Y/N finished tending to the fire, she stood up and dusted off her hands. She looked up, feeling her brother's gaze on her. He watched her in silence.

"Care to join?" he asked, glancing at the tub before looking back at her.

She shook her head, stepping closer and looking at the murky water. "I think I'll pass this time."

Aegon extended his hand toward her, and she gave him hers, which he pressed to his lips, planting a wet kiss on her skin. She smiled at his gesture.

"I'll go dismiss the servants," she said, stroking his cheek. "Make sure you wash away all the sadness."

The princess left the bathroom and returned to the chambers. They looked much better now, with two servants finishing changing the bed linens. When they were done, she thanked and dismissed them. She approached the large wardrobe, looking for clean clothes for her brother. She planned to get him outside for a walk, even if just a short one.

She placed the clothes on a chair and sat on the bed, running her hand over the freshly made bedding. Shortly after, Aegon emerged from the bathroom, not bothering to cover himself with even a towel.

When he stood in the doorway, Y/N involuntarily looked up at him. She looked him up and down, causing Aegon to smile.

"Like what you see?" he asked, approaching the bed without taking his eyes off her.

"I'm just checking if you washed yourself properly," she retorted, lifting her head to meet his gaze when he stood right in front of her.

Aegon still wore a faint smile as he cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. His pale skin had gained a bit of color from the hot bath, but he had goosebumps from the cool, fresh breeze coming through the windows. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but his gaze was now clear and certain, darkening as he was looking at his sister.

"I missed you too," he said after a moment of silence, during which they exchanged looks. He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. "Make love with me."

It wasn't a command or even a request. It was a quiet murmur filled with desperation, almost sounding like a plea. Aegon needed to feel her warmth, needed to feel something other than the alcoholic breath of death that placed cold kisses on him.

She silently stood from the bed, and before he could say anything, she touched his cheek and kissed him. Aegon wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, returning the kiss. Blindly, he started to fumble with the ties of her dress, but seeing his struggle, she began undressing herself. He cupped her face in his hands, kissing her tenderly. When she loosened her corset, Aegon grabbed the bottom of her gown and quickly pulled it over her head, tossing it aside. She shivered at the sudden chill but soon felt Aegon's warm body against her skin. He smiled into her mouth.

"You're so soft," he whispered between kisses, holding her tightly as if he wanted to lock her inside his ribcage. "Go on, lie down."

She obeyed, positioning herself comfortably on a pile of pillows. Aegon hovered over her, kissing her gently. Their hands tangled in each other's hair, touching and grasping every bit of skin they could reach. Lips swollen from kissing released soft sighs and moans mixed with tender words.

Aegon could be gentle, delicate, and caring. He wasn't like this with the whores he sometimes brought to his chambers to relieve himself and kill boredom. But he loved his sister dearly and would never harm her.

The young prince couldn't remember the first time his sister came to his chambers and stayed the night. It was probably before their father's illness. One autumn, Aegon caught a terrible cold. He couldn't sleep at night, and his cough kept the entire western wing of the castle awake. One night, a sleepy Y/N went to his room, silently took the nearby laying ointment, sat on his hips, and began rubbing it on his chest. Aegon, feverish, thought he was hallucinating. But when he woke up the next morning and saw his naked sister asleep in his bed, he knew the events of the previous night hadn't been a fever dream.

Now, too, Aegon had to think twice if the soft body in his arms was really there or just a trick of his drunken mind.

"Are you real?" he whispered, pulling away from her lips and looking at her face.

"You'll have to find out for yourself," Y/N replied just as softly.

Aegon smiled involuntarily and hurriedly disappeared between her thighs.

At dinner, not only Aegon's chair was empty. The chair next to his, Y/N's, was also vacant.

Aemond glanced sideways at his sister, who tried to hide her smile behind her hair. Otto looked at her as well, then at her mother.

"Helaena?" Alicent spoke, looking at the blushing face of her daughter. "Is something wrong?"

"Aegon is feeling much better," she said. The young princess knew this first because the garden she particularly liked was just below her brother's chambers, and the windows, this time, were wide open.

[yandere-sins]

Kicking my feet and twirling my hair at your yandere König and Ghost headcanons💕 could I request some headcanons on how they'd react at escape attempts/successful escapes please?

Of course! Thanks for requesting! ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ One word: panic. It's not a slowly developing feeling, either. When he can't find you in your room, his stomach twists as he waltzes into the bathroom instead. At this point, his pulse begins ringing in his ears, and his breaths come out as slow pushes of air. König realizes how wrong his home feels, how there's no sign of you there, and the panic that overcomes him is just about to explode like a grenade on the battlefield—it builds up and then peng! It's too quiet, too cold, and the thought of you having left is one of pure horror. If anyone would measure his tension, his body would break all means of detecting it, every muscle so taut they could snap at any given moment, and every one of his movements deliberate and deadly. König tries to think about what he's done wrong and why you'd do this to him, but he manages to push these thoughts aside for later. He needs to focus, needs to keep his wits up. Part of him hopes you didn't leave him because you wanted to. Another part hopes very much that you weren't forced to leave him just to spare you from the horrors that you could possibly encounter because of that. Then again, if someone was as bold as to kidnap you, König would at least have an outlet for all the rage, frustration, and madness he is feeling; the thought of breaking some bones suddenly so tempting.

♡ And yet, König is never more in control than in moments like this. Despite his panic and anxiety about losing you, he could never concentrate better than now that he has to get you back. And he has to; he needs to. Needs you. His life is meaningless without you in it, and he needs to cradle you in his arms and know you're okay just so he can fucking breathe again. He has his means of finding out where you are and is not shy about using them. You'll come to dread the day you got stalked by someone so big and tall that it should have been impossible. But once he's behind you, your escape is over, and with it, any other possibility that you'll ever be able to try again. If he has to put you in an underground bunker, tied up and unable to do anything without him, then so be it. But König can't lose you again. He might as well die if you ever manage to get away. Ultimately, it will be his tense, unyielding hands dragging you back, even as he coos sweet promises into your ear. That everything will be okay now, that he'll protect you. But he'll be much more possessive and needy after your attempt, and you only have yourself to blame for what he's going to do with you once he has you back in the safety of his arms.

Ghost

♡ Physically, you might already be far, far away from Ghost. Yet, you can still feel his disappointment and hear him sigh, even if it's all just subconsciously. There's something especially bitter about the fact he went out to get you some nice food you like, thinking about how much he'll enjoy watching you eat it on his way back and imaging the taste on your lips as he steals kisses from you, only to come back to this. Nothing. Emptiness and the remains of his heart getting shredded by explosive bangs of heartache. He thought things were improving between you two, but that escape was on him. He shouldn't have trusted you quite this much, though it really fucking hurts that you did it. He's been good to you, hasn't he? Loved you well, fucked you well, spent all his damn money to make you comfortable. You can run all you want, but you can't deny the few times you leaned in for a cuddle—even if it was subconsciously—or asked him for something, and he got it for you without thinking twice. You might think running is the right option, but are you even aware of what you're running away from? By all means, he was a perfect partner (aside from forcing you into this relationship, but it was for the greater good of you both being together). And yet, you'd betray him like this. Run away when things get rough. When they aren't up to your standards. Ghost must have spoiled you rotten, eh? Pity because he won't make the same mistakes twice.

♡ Ghost doesn't need anyone or anything to track you down. He might have a tracker on you, part of him always admiring your rebellious nature and knowing the day would come, but he knows you. He knows you too well. He studied your thoughts like no one else, perhaps knowing even better than you what you're thinking. And though he's gripping the steering wheel of the car he's using to catch up to you, to the point of either his fingers or the material they're wrapped around cracking, when he does find you, he's eerily calm. He knew the way you'd run, knew which bushes you'd hide behind, and now that he caught up, you really have no choice but to surrender. Ghost wouldn't let you win in a fight on his good days, much less days ruined by your idiocity. So you can choose to get in defeatedly or have him drag you into the car with no guarantee he won't hurt you. It's not like your tears leave him cold. The dead look on your face or how you jerk when he brushes your hair back, feeling like ice picks stabbed into his heart. He hates arguing with you. He hates being angry with you. It's on you this time, though. But at least, if you're cooperative, the only way he'll let you know how mad he is, is by holding your thigh in his hand on the drive, gripping it painfully rigid as he drives you two back, thinking about whether or not to break your leg as a lesson. No promises on if he will act on these thoughts, though—you really messed up this time and deserve the lesson, don't you? Better start appeasing him before you get home, and he gets to have you all to himself again, just like he always wanted.

[simpee9000]

You Were A Dream ~T. Amajiki

Blurb Idea Description : Tamaki was always shy, but with you? He was doing everything he never expected. All with his best friend's sister. it felt like the words cruel joke on him. Yet for you, it was all sunshine and rainbows. Word Count : 20k (Omfg) Warnings : Angst, Smut, First Times in all but home run (lmk if more)

---

The past couple of days have been a headache. You had a presentation to do with Tamaki soon, yet all Mirio did while Tamaki was over was yap.

"Mirio," you rubbed at your temple. Head in your hands, elbows on the table.

"Yes?" he chirped, turning his attention off Tamaki.

"Can you please go?" you nodded your head in the direction of his room.

He gave you an odd look, "Why?"

You rolled your eyes. It was obvious he was trying to see why you wanted to be alone with Tamaki. It was obvious enough for Tamaki to shift uncomfortably. "I have a presentation to do, now please?"

"Why can't I sit on the couch?" he questioned, voice still cheery as he somewhat glared at you.

"All you're doing is distracting us, please? I don't want to have to go do this at a cafe or his apartment," you gave Tamaki an apologetic look for your insanely overprotective brother. He's known Tamaki since elementary school, there is no reason he shouldn't trust you alone.

"Alright," Mirio gave a look of distaste, "My door will be open, though!"

With your nuisance of a brother gone, with only the motion of him pointing two fingers at you, then his eyes, telling you he was watching you.

"Sorry," you mumbled to Tamaki, reshuffling your papers again so you could get back to work, "I don't know why he's like that."

"It's fine," his eyes were turned to the papers, not wanting to acknowledge anything.

"Maybe next time we should go to yours," you half-joked, but it was filled with hope, "Would keep us on task."

"Oh, um-" his eyes darted around the room, turning his eyes to Mirio's door, "I don't know-"

You laughed off his unwillingness, "I get it, don't worry."

"I just- I've never really had a girl in my apartment before," he whispered once he was sure Mirio wasn't listening. He didn't want the blonde to get any ideas.

"Really?" you looked at his embarrassed expression in shock, "What about Hado? Aren't you dating?"

"What?" he squeaked, "No! Y- Mirio is dating her."

"What?!" you hissed, "That's who's been over recently," you made a look in disgust.

"Do you not like her-"

"No, I love her- just I've heard things from his room," you cringed.

"Oh."

"I thought you were dating her-"

"No," he rushed.

You saw Mirio slip his head through the wall, "Mirio!"

"I couldn't hear you! Why are you guys being so quiet?" he eyed you.

"Tamaki just told me you're dating Hado!" you glared at him.

"Sorry!"

You shot Mirio a long glare before brushing off the conversation, saving it for later when Tamaki wasn't in the middle of it.

With how you went to school with them all, you were shocked you never knew they were dating. You always thought Hado and Tamaki were dating, blinded somewhat by how you thought Tamaki was unavailable. It was obvious Mirio was dating her. They spent lunch together and met each other parents officially. All the typical dating things.

The situation gave you a headache, so after only cleaning up a few slides to your presentation, you called in a night, saying goodbye to Tamaki so you could finally shower and sleep.

"Sis," Mirio called your attention after you were trying to step off to the bathroom.

"Hm?"

"Don't," he warned, odd to see off his usually happy personality, " do anything with him while I'm gone."

You huffed, "I have a project with him."

"Public places only," he crossed his arms, trying to give a stern lecture like your dad would.

"You're not Dad," you rolled your arms, matching how he crossed his arms, "plus, you know Tamaki, I don't get why you're weird about it."

"I still want to be in the know if you start talking like that," Mirio explained, "he's proven himself as a friend- I just don't know how I feel about him dating you."

"Oh my god," you groaned in embarrassment, "He doesn't see it like that."

"You don't know how guys think-"

"Shut up," you huffed.

"Hado thought I liked her as a friend too," he pointed out.

You caught onto the subject change, "When did you even start dating?"

"Once we graduated."

"Mirio! I haven't known for three years!"

"Sorry!"

"Oh, I can't wait till you're out of the country," you glared at him, annoyed at how he wanted to know everything but not tell everything.

"Hey!"

The break from him would be amazing. He'd be gone for god knows how long, and you'd finally have a breath of fresh air. With him out of the apartment, you'd have free range.

Only a couple of days. That's all you told yourself when he was bugging you and Tamaki while you were working.

When Mirio was finally gone, it felt like the best thing possible. You've lived with him since you were in the womb. You might be twins, but you weren't identical. He took after your dad mainly while you followed your mom's genetic line. Similar quirk, though.

Led you to spend almost every waking moment with him. Going to the same school, living very similar paths. Having all the same friends. Everything was always together, so you decided to continue that path and get an apartment together, feeling it'd be weird to be far away from dad without him.

You loved Mirio, but god was he a pain in the ass. He'd leave stuff everywhere, and god forbid he had a girl over. Anything you heard was against your will, and so was anything you saw. Now knowing it was all Hado made you gag. So, with him gone, you were free. Free to live in your apartment as if it was fully your own.

It led to nasty habits, and you'll admit it. Leaving dishes out longer, throwing clothes anywhere, and listening to TV way too loud late at night. It made you feel like you lived in the dorms again, your own private space.

Yet even with the freedom of him gone, you didn't want to move out quite yet. Though you told him you didn't want to leave home too quickly, the main reason was Tamaki. Something about him made you want to stick around a bit longer. You got along well, and he was one of your closest friends, but the main reason he was that close was because Mirio made it happen.

So you weren't going to move away from your main source to him.

Sometimes, your interactions with him made you feel delusional. Overthinking any interaction with him. Thinking he felt comfortable around you or that he looked at you softer.

You only had rare chances to see him one-on-one. Sure, you had work, but that only had team-ups every once in a while. You wanted to see him in a social but private setting that didn't work.

Even though they were rare, and Mirio wasn't home, you were assigned to work on an office presentation for your PR management. Tamaki and you were the cleanest PR heroes in your office, so they wanted you to work together to explain how to achieve that.

It was finally in the step you wanted, so you weren't going to listen to Mirio's warnings. You were just hopeful he didn't tell Tamaki the same out of kindness.

Yet now, before you were even ready, Tamaki was knocking at your door while you were fighting with your top to get over your head.

"You have a key, right?" you called out through your sweater.

"Yeah?" you heard his meep voice peak past the door.

"Come in, just give me two seconds!" you rushed out of view, determined to make yourself presentable as you tripped into the bathroom.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention once you got your shirt settled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" you stepped out of the bathroom once you gave yourself a once over, completely out of breath from how much you rushed. You've spent the past two hours getting ready for him.

"Your face is red- are you sure you're doing okay?" he eyed you wearily.

"I'm fine," you smiled, stepping past him to get yourself a glass of water, "You excited about the presentation?" you joked while digging out your filtered water in the fridge.

"I-um was hoping you'd-"

"I know," you glanced at him, "I was joking."

"Oh."

You swallowed awkwardly. Normally, Mirio provided a filler for the two of you. "I'm excited to work with you, though, relieving to be paired with someone I actually know."

"Mhm," he rocked on his heels, looking around your apartment as if it was his first time there. Looking at it in a new light without Mirio in it.

You took a sip from your glass before making your way to the living room, grabbing your files from the counter as you walked. "Might as well throw ourselves into it," you spoke out loud as you started setting up papers in an orderly manner on the coffee table.

"Yeah," he mumbled, following your steps into the living room, and sitting down next to the coffee table before you.

With the idea of having the apartment to yourself, you hyped yourself together, wanting to make a move, even the slightest one, while Mirio was gone.

You went to sit down, strategically placing your hand on his shoulder to make it easier to sit down, "Sorry, bad knees," you joked off the casual touch, "Hero work makes you old."

His face flushed slightly, "I get it."

The delusional thoughts started kicking in again, scratching at the part of your brain that screamed that he liked you back.

"I can't believe we present tomorrow," you chose to dart to a conversation before your brain raced too far ahead.

"Yeah, I hope it goes well," Tamaki folded his hands in his lap.

"It will," you gave him a soft smile, "We have all the slides done. We just need to add some details. Honestly surprised we got anything done with Mirio around."

"Mhm," he agreed softly.

"Next time, we definitely have to go to your apartment," you turned away from his reaction, your words escaping your mouth before you thought.

You heard the fabric of his clothes shift as he shrugged, "If you want to- Not sure what Mirio would think."

Not willing to get into the headspace of your brother, you moved your focus to the presentation, "What do we add here?"

Tamaki shifted slightly, the idea of work clouding his anxious demeanor for a second as he leaned over your shoulder to explain the next step.

Close interactions happened between you often, even without a thought. It was something Mirio commented on often, but you only noticed without his extra presence.

You thought back to when Tamaki was sharing his favorite book, huddled over your shoulder as he helped you flip to his favorite chapter.

It's the main reason you thought he liked you.

So, with Mirio gone for the foreseeable future, you have to soak in the full glow of the interactions. Even during the first presentation of many.

"Suneater," you placed your hand on his bicep lightly, "Charted the amount of interviews and rates for us on this graph." You looked to the screen as you let your hand fall, ignoring his flustered look to continue the presentation.

You snuck in as many of those light interactions as possible without suspicion.

Clearly getting away with it when at the end of the presentation a sidekick you couldn't remember the name of, approached you.

"You can't believe all that," he said in a cocky tone.

"Hm?" you turned to face him, drawing your eyes away from where Tamaki stood.

"The public doesn't give you a good rating just because of your donations," he crossed his arms, "In your research, you had to of seen that half your voting audience is males."

Understanding the hostile tone, you crossed your arms as well, "How is that relevant to the presentation?"

"They only give good ratings because they view you as a perfect virgin."

You tried to hide back your look of disgust, "At least they-"

"Excuse me," Tamaki stood by your side, drawing all your agitation out of your expression, "I need to steal her for a moment."

"Well," the sidekick rolled his eyes and looked at you, "If you want to change it, you know where I work."

Now you wanted to gag.

"What did he mean?" Tamaki looked at you confused.

"Nothing," you waved off, "He's just the type of guy I don't want to be anywhere near."

"Oh," Tamaki looked in the direction of the guy.

"What did you need?" you looked up at him, getting rid of any irritation in the comfort of his presence.

"I was just trying to help you get out of that conversation," he admitted shyly.

"I looked that bad, huh?"

"Yeah- well no- Just looked grossed out," he fumbled over his words.

You shrugged, "I was, people like him give me a headache," you grabbed your bag and looked at your phone for the time. "Want to go to the bar? I'd love a drink or something to celebrate our first successful presentation." In honesty, this was nothing to celebrate, but any excuse worked.

"I don't know," he mumbled, face tinging red, "I'm not a huge bar person-"

"Then ramen?" you offered, placing a smile on your face at his slight rejection.

He eyed you carefully for a moment, "Sure- can we go to Fat Gum's?

"Of course," you gestured for him to lead the way.

Ramen was great, Tamaki gushed over how much he loved it but could rarely eat it. It had hardly any protein, so, therefore, nothing to fuel his quirk. He explained it thoroughly. Giving you a different light on how he functioned as a hero.

The two of you talked about all the small things of your lifestyle, filler conversation of what you didn't learn about him throughout the years. A deeper side to him other than just your brother's best friend.

You drank as you talked, buzzing yourselves with the warmth of alcohol. Though you've seen Tamaki drink before, it was easier to tell one-on-one that he was a lot more open when buzzed.

Neither of you was wasted or even touched the aspect of being drunk when you stepped into the warmth of your apartment.

"Thank you for walking me home," you smiled at him as you walked through the door.

"Mhm."

You walked into your kitchen, putting away your small amount of leftovers. "I'm glad we hung out," you mumbled into your fridge, "you know, one on one."

"Me too," he spoke softly.

"We should do it more often," you suggested as you stood up, trying to gauge his reaction.

He flushed slightly and nodded, "I'd like that."

Not wanting to scare him off, you moved onto why he came over, "So you said you've never seen the Silent Voice? It's so good." You turned your TV on.

Tamaki choked out noise and dragged your attention to him, seeing his eyes catch your couch before darting away. Matching his view, you caught your midnight blue bra tossed over the couch, something you missed because it blended into the black couch.

"Oh my god," you grabbed it quickly, throwing it near your room and trying to calm the embarrassment flooding your face. "Sorry, I forgot I left that there," you sighed, "You've probably seen plenty, no big deal," you whispered to yourself. Trying to steady the nerves from the realization that he saw your favorite bra, one you bought with him in mind. You felt bad about it after buying it, but once you tried it on, most guilt melted away.

He gulped, "I actually haven't, but um, it's fine."

You glance at him, curious, "Really?"

His head shook quickly, eyes avoiding you as he tried to casually sit down on the couch that definitely didn't have your bra on it moments ago.

"Not even the one support course girl? In the third year?"

"What?"

"The girl that was all on you."

"I've never dated anyone?" he flushed, trying to clean up the mixup, fumbling over his words.

"Oh, well," you blinked at him, you honestly thought he dated her. Or someone. You've seen all the looks they've shared. "You've had to of seen one in high school."

"Why?" he croaked out, clearly struggling with the conversation. He was probably only able to talk because of the alcohol.

"Tamaki, everyone was head over heels for you," you explain, hiding the jealously, "You didn't take up on any offer?"

"No-" he shook his head again, "I thought they were joking-"

"No," you laughed lightly.

"Oh."

"Did you ever kiss a girl?" You asked, now confused.

"No," he mumbled, embarrassed by every part of this conversation, "Didn't think anyone wanted me that way."

"Don't worry," you comforted, "I didn't do anything in high school either."

"Really?"

"Didn't have the time," you answered his unspoken question, sitting comfortably on the floor in front of the coffee table, "Besides, you and Mirio scared everyone away."

"How?"

"Mirio has a creepy friendly vibe to him-"

"How did I?" Tamaki rushed out after interrupting you.

"You're intimidating. Most thought you liked me or something," you laughed through the pain of him not.

"Oh."

"But if I did," you paused, "I would have been lucky if it was you," you spoke softly, trying to calm your own nerves as you looked at him. His face flushed as he tried to read into what you were saying.

"So you would-" he trailed off.

"If you'd let me," you laughed lightly.

His eyes flickered to your lips, watching over your body language to see if this was in any way a joke. You'd never, but you could regret this.

"Do you want to?" You mumbled, moving slightly closer to him.

He flinched for a moment, taking in the entire situation. Looking over how you anxiously tapped your thumb on the floor and you looked him over as well. His body relaxed slightly, shoulders slouching as he nodded.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips as you leaned in before you closed them, gently kissing Tamaki. A surge of excitement making you feel giddy, you've wanted this since you were 14, if not before that. And it was better than you expected and anyone else. While he was inexperienced, the emotions of it topped any other kiss you've had.

He briefly let his hand rest softly on your cheek before dropping it in shock at his own actions. Parting his lips from yours to catch his breath.

"I can't believe-"

A stupid ringtone filled the room, blaring off your phone.

When you moved to decline, Tamaki shook his head. Telling you to answer.

"What Mirio?" You asked, annoyed, staring at his bright face on Facetime.

"How was the presentation? I tried to ask Tamaki but he hasn't answered me," Mirio pondered.

Your eyes flashed to Tamaki.

"Is he with you?" Mirio got closer to his screen, looking over your surroundings.

Tamaki nodded at you. "Yeah, he's right next to me. He just walked me home from ramen."

"Ramen? You guys got Ramen together?"

"Yeah?"

"Like a date-"

"No."

You flashed Tamaki, an apologetic smile saying it wasn't a date.

"Mhm- okay," Mirio eyed you for a moment, "Works going great here too-"

Mirio continued to yap about what he's done so far, and how much he loves it all. Asking questions about your presentation before telling Tamaki to go home, so he did. With a flustered goodbye that left you embarrassed to have to talk to Mirio.

"Why do you still need to talk?" you asked when you returned back to your phone.

Mirio sighed, "Look- I don't want to spill Tamaki's secrets but-" he debated for a second, "I'm pretty sure he likes you-"

"What?" you uttered in disbelief.

"I'm only telling you because you're my sister- I don't want you getting his hopes up if you are not interested. I also want you to tell me about this stuff-"

"I don't have to tell you stuff," you mumble. If you ended up dating Tamaki, it'd be unlikely you'd tell him.

He frowned, "I know, just be careful with him?"

"How do you even know he likes me?"

"He's just more comfortable with you," he said honestly, "Don't let him know I told you. He needs to do things on his own time. But with me gone, I don't know how I feel about you guys hanging out one-on-one when he likes you."

"Thanks for telling me, but I'm not going to do anything with him," you said, telling the lie, acting as if you hadn't kissed Tamaki just before he called.

"Good."

You hung up the call, Taking a deep breath before throwing your phone on your bed in excitement. You were Tamaki's first kiss! You made him flustered- which was easy but you did it in a different sense. All great signs. And even Mirio thought he liked you!

Tonight will sit with you forever. You kissed two people before, but Tamaki was easily better. You were over the moon about it.

Adding an extra pep to your step as you went on with your week.

"You seem extra giddy lately," Hado looked over at you as she sipped her boba.

"Huh?" you thought over your actions.

"You got a certain aura to you," she smiled, "Wait!" she gasped, "Did you meet a boy?"

"What?" you paled, "No, I wish!"

She frowned, "Then what is it?"

"The presentation at work is going well- I don't know," you shrugged off poorly, getting away from the topic.

That conversation was one you thought nothing much of. Moving on with your days as you waited for Mirio to come home and ruin your fun and alone time with Tamaki.

When he did finally get home, he was as annoying as ever.

Bothering you when you were just getting a drink from the fridge.

"Sis," Mirio called to you from the living room.

You peeped your head out, seeing him and Tamaki sitting in the living room. Tamaki looking at his hands in his lap rather than at you. "What?" you walked into the living room, stopping to stand next to where Tamaki was sitting.

Mirio's eyes flickered between you too before settling on you, "My coworker asked about you."

"What about?" you asked, sensing Mirio would talk for longer you took a seat on the armrest next to Tamaki. Letting your leg fall and rest next to his. You tried to not act happy that he didn't move away.

"He thinks you're cute," Mirio smiled, "He asked me for your number."

You furrowed your brows, "A guy asked you for my number and you're fine with it?"

Mirio shrugged, "He seems nice, but has only been nice, I think you should give it a try."

"I don't know," you shifted uncomfortably, knocking your legs in Tamaki's causing him to look up at you. His eyes were covered with uncertainty that went away as soon as he shifted to look back down. "I don't think I'm interested."

"Come on, Hado said you wanted a boyfriend-"

You rolled your eyes, of course, she'd snitch or try to set you up. "Yeah, one I actually know, not some random guy you deem fit."

"Please," Mirio frowned, "You didn't like the other person I mentioned. I don't want you to be single forever-"

"I won't be," you huffed.

"Just think about it?"

"Fine."

You walked out of the living room and locked yourself in your room. Deciding to not step foot out of it tonight so you didn't get bugged to date this random guy.

Mirio has always been weird about your dating life. Somehow you avoided the discussion in high school but when you started living and working together, he'd interrupt any conversation you had with a guy. Trying to see if they were good enough.

He even did it with Tamaki, he watched any interaction you had with him. When obviously Tamaki has more than proven himself, Mirio still watches. It's weird.

So when you heard a faint knock at your door at 3 in the morning, you slowly opened it, unsurprised to see Tamaki standing there. (Mirio never knocks and if he does it's loud.)

"What's up?" you asked softly as you let him in, closing the door behind him so Mirio didn't get weird somehow.

Tamaki fidgeted with his hands, avoiding looking at you, "Um- earlier, Mirio said you wanted a boyfriend?"

"Yeah?" you dragged out, moving to sit on your bed and get comfy.

"It's not- you wouldn't date the guy he suggested right?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, I don't want him bugging me."

Tamaki's eyes met yours nervously, "Did the other night not-"

You jumped to your feet, grabbing his hands in yours, "It did. Don't worry, I just- I want more? Like a relationship."

"Oh," he swallowed nervously, brushing his thumb over yours as he watched your hands, "If you let me- I'd want to be more?"

The feelings rushing through you were forcing a smile to your face, "Yeah?"

He looked up, "Yeah, will you-," he whispered an 'oh my god' as he choked over his words briefly, "Will you go on date with me?"

"Will I get another kiss?" you flirted, leaning into his body slightly.

His face shot bright red- "oh-um-I don't know."

"Time will tell then," you dismissed the topic, not wanting him to feel like there was an expectation.

Tamaki looked toward the door, "I should," he pointed to the door.

"That's probably for the best, you have my number so text me," you smiled at him. He gave a short nod before awkwardly leaving the room.

Him asking you out shocked you. Sure, Mirio told you he thought Tamaki liked you, but it was never confirmed. While you wanted to kill Hado for telling your brother you wanted a boyfriend, you are so fucking glad she did.

Because now, a week later, you were at ramen with him.

Fussing over work topics like normal before you started to get to know each other a little bit more. The last time you shared dinner felt like a practice date, so you're glad this one was similar. He mainly let you talk, but he shared his opinions and answered any questions. Asking his fair share of questions as well.

Even he ended the date by walking you home.

"I can't believe you haven't seen any of the hero movies from America," you feigned shock as you walked the hallway to the door of your apartment.

"Aren't they all just reenactments of actual heroes?"

"Well yeah- but they are still cool. You have to watch them with me," you stopped in front of the door, "It'll be our next date?"

His face brightened for a moment, previously filled with nerves since you left the restaurant. "If you want to- I have a nice TV," he indirectly invited you to his apartment.

"So," you rocked on your heels, waiting out the minutes before you had to go into you're apartment, "How should we end this one?"

Tamaki's eyes flashed to your lips, then to the door and back again, "You're not worried?"

"Mh, not really," you swayed into him, you've been waiting to kiss him again since you kissed the first time.

He gulped, "I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Tamaki," you spoke softly, "Just do what feels right."

His eyes flickered away for a moment before he settled back on you. "I want to," he confirmed. You only nodded again to give him the full go-ahead. Seeing him lean in slightly before you moved to meet him halfway. Missing his lips slightly with a small giggle, before he could pull away with embarrassment, you softly moved your hands to his cheeks. Directing his face to kiss his lips properly with yours this time.

You felt him smile into the kiss, your hands falling onto his shoulders and feel him relax in your hold.

"Okay," you whispered after pulling away, "I should get inside."

"Mhm," he hummed deeply.

"I'll see you soon, right?" You twisted the door handle.

"Yeah," his voice was deeper than before, his eyes more lidded. Clearly absorbed into the kiss you just shared.

"Okay," you giggled lightly, "goodnight.

"Goodnight."

Shutting that door behind you was difficult, a permanent smile smeared across your face. The budding relationship was good, and you could tell it'd stay that way.

"How was your date?"

You jumped, turning away from the door, "Jesus- Mirio you can't do that," you placed your hand on your heart.

"How was it?" he laughed off your scare.

"Good, he's super sweet," you said, giving your honest opinion, "I know I haven't been on many dates, but that's a permanent favorite."

Mirio smiled, "I'm glad, when do I get to meet him?"

You fumbled your words, forgetting you lied for a moment, "I don't know, I really just want the relationship to be between me and him for a while. Plus, I don't think he's ready for you to know."

"What? Why?" he asked, as if distraught.

"You're intimidating," you laughed, "you're not just number five hero for nothing."

"Is that why he's scared?"

You shrugged, "I haven't asked much."

"What's his name?"

"Aoto," you shot out a random name.

"His job?"

"He's a pro too."

"Great! Have I met him?"

"Maybe once or twice," you smiled as you turned away.

He stopped after too many questions. He did this after every single date you went on, and you went on many. Bingeing American movies between restaurant dates, and soon enough you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Mirio constantly mentioned it, once you told him. Especially in front of Tamaki.

"How's your boyfriend?" Mirio asked when you stepped into his hero office.

"Huh?" you asked, sharing a look with Tamaki.

"We were talking relationships," Mirio stated as if that helped clear the question.

"He's good, I haven't gotten the chance to talk to him today," you took a seat next to Tamaki in the chairs Mirio had in his office.

"You have a date tonight right?" Mirio asked.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes, I've told you this."

Mirio ignored you, turning his attention to Tamaki, "You should get a girlfriend!"

"Huh?" Tamaki choked, ripping his eyes off you to look at Mirio.

"It'd be good for you to get out there."

"What's with you and setting people up?" you laughed at Mirio. The second he didn't have to pester you to date, he went to bug Tamaki.

"It'd be good for him," Mirio looked at you, turning to Tamaki, "Could help you get over some things."

"I- um actually," Tamaki shared a look with you, "I have a date tonight."

You panicked for a second, worried Mirio might connect things.

"Really?"

"I also- have a um- girlfriend-"

"What the fuck?" Mirio blinked in shock.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you- I was just trying to make sure things were actually happening," Tamaki blurted apologetically.

"It's fine- just wow," Mirio laughed, "I'm happy for you- I thought you liked someone else."

You smiled, knowing the meaning and knowing that it was true.

Mirio stopped torturing you guys like that after a while, letting your relationship together progress naturally all under his nose.

Even when Tamaki would come over, you'd get small moments alone together.

That was especially nice on the rough days.

With Mirio busy showering, you answered the door. Smiling softly at Tamaki's slightly surprised face.

"Hey," you mumbled, stepping slightly so he could come inside.

He furrowed his brows, "What's wrong?"

You looked over your shoulder, checking to see if Mirio somehow left the bathroom without you hearing. With the coast clear, you stepped into Tamaki's space, softly closing the door behind you to give an extra layer of privacy. Before you stretched your arms out for a hug, instantly pulled into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

"What happened?" he rested his chin on your head, squeezing you a little tighter.

"Just," you sighed out, "A bad day, no real reason." You answered truthfully, it was just an exhausting day.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, rubbing your back.

"It's fine," you buried your face into his shoulder, taking in the small smell of his cologne and smiling at the blush creeping up his neck. "How late are you staying tonight?" you asked.

"Not sure- why," he answered quietly.

"Well, I'd love to call you tonight before bed," you looked up at him, the two of you often called before going to sleep. You both shared a horrid sleeping schedule so you were able to call free of interruptions. Mainly sitting in silence and enjoying the presence of the other. And tonight was a night where you felt like you needed that.

"I'll be home before you go to sleep," Tamaki confirmed your plans instantly, clearly loving your routine together.

"Thank you," you mumbled, snuggled back into him, "I hate that you're so close but so far."

"I'm sorry," his shoulders slumped, clearly feeling guilty.

"Not your fault," you pulled back, looking up at him.

"I know," he mumbled sadly, looking down at you, "Just- I wish I didn't put you through this.

You shook your head, "it's worth it."

He looked at you softly, eyes practically shining as he looked at you, briefly falling to your lips before shooting back up to your eyes.

"Kiss?" you asked, sensing his idea that you knew he would be too embarrassed to ask. You did this each time, and it shocked him every time.

He nodded lightly, bending his head down to yours.

Giving you a light peck before you asked for more. Laying a light peck into a kiss into another kiss. Slowly kissing him over and over until you were softly making out against your apartment door, for the first time as well.

Your knees were weak as you moved your hands to rest on the back of his neck, keeping him close as the blood was rushing to your head.

The distinct background noise of your water pipe stopped, cluing you in that Mirio was done showering, so you pulled away.

"You should get inside before he asks questions," you smiled as you pulled away.

"Mhm," he nodded, face entirely flushed.

You ushered him inside, going into the kitchen while he made himself comfy on the couch, acting as if nothing happened, even though his entire face was painted red.

"You good Tamaki?" Mirio asked when he saw Tamaki's flushed expression.

"Uh- Yeah."

"You sure?"

Tamaki's eyes flashed to you for a second before he looked down.

"Do you not want her to hear?" Mirio pointed at you.

"No! No- it's not that- just um- my girlfriend just- um-"

"Ohhh," Mirio wiggled his eyebrows.

You poured yourself a drink as you watched Tamaki cover his face with a pillow. "Mirio, leave em alone," you laughed.

"I wanna know what she did, don't you?"

Tamaki just kept himself under the pillow, clearly miserable. "Probably just texted him that she loved him or something," you shrugged, trying to cover for him, and not wanting Mirio to question about it.

"Aw! Did she?" Mirio swooned.

The pillow was finally dropped from his face when he gave Mirio a nod, "Can we switch topics now?"

And switched topics they did. You went to your room and busied yourself, pretending that the hallway to your apartment didn't just become your favorite space, until Tamaki called and the two of you fell asleep together.

Small moments like that opened your attraction to him to a new light. Tamaki was truly always there for you. Any time you were upset, he kicked himself out of his anxious habits and helped you, it was truly the hero in him.

The two of you have always been close. With Mirio no longer supervising you hanging out, you were able to get even closer together and it meant the world to you.

You've always been curious about the type of person Tamaki was, and Mirio did not lie in the slightest. Tamaki was the most kind-hearted person you've ever met.

The interactions between friends made it obvious you were dating, but apparently everyone was blind.

"I can't believe you had a crush on All Might!" you shook with laughter after weakly slapping Hado.

She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, "Shouldn't be surprising, I mean look at Mirio."

"Still! He's like 80," you cringed playfully, feeling the alcohol from the night buzzing under your skin.

Mirio was laughing next to Hado, poking fun along with you.

"Well you liked Hawks," Hado pointed at you with a slight blush on her face.

You paled, "This isn't about me!"

"You always go on about how confident and hot he is," Hado added to your secret.

Tamaki shifted in his seat next to you.

"He's only like four years older than us," you huffed, "Unlike All Might."

"I only liked young All Might, not him now," Hado frowned.

You let out a laugh, moving yourself to get comfortable in your seat on the couch, "Still, he's ancient."

The group of you have been drinking since you got off work, supposed to have a movie night at Hado's but it just turned into talking, something all of you need. Just getting your minds away from your hero work and acting like teenagers again.

Mirio and Hado shared the loveseat while you and Tamaki shared the bigger couch yet shared the same space. You curled next to the armrest so you could talk closer to Hado and Tamaki was in the middle seat, with no care as your shin rested against his thigh. Even though Mirio gave him an odd look. Yet you were too into the conversation to care.

"So you wouldn't bang young All Might?" Hado asked you with her brow raised.

"No!" you laughed loudly.

"He's basically like Hawks though," she pouted at the fact you couldn't see her side, "just a lot more buff."

You looked at your brother who was just staring at Hado as if she said something magical, "You're just gonna let her talk about banging other dudes?"

Mirio shrugged, "Everyone has thoughts, she's not going to do anything. Plus it was a thing of the past."

"Yeah," Hado gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, you cringed for a moment. "But you like Hawks, do you just like them more confident?"

You shrugged, "I don't know? He just is easy to talk to."

"Oh my god! I forgot you talked to him," she gasped.

"What?" Mirio's eyes snapped to you.

"Not like that-"

"Yes like that," Hado interrupted you, "He gave you his number!"

"What-" Tamaki uttered quietly next to you.

Your eyes flickered to him for a second, "Like two years ago. He gave it to me for work."

"Yeah, that's why he used his personal number," Hado teased, "Do you still have it? Are you dating him?"

Your eyes just about popped out of your head, "No! I am not dating him!"

"So you still have his number?"

"I mean- yeah, I don't use it thought," you shrugged, suddenly feeling guilty even though you genuinely forgot you even had his number.

"You should so text him," Hado clapped her hands enthusiastically.

"I have a boyfriend," you said appalled, wanting to throw up at the idea of what Tamaki was thinking right now.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him! Come on you should see if he kept it," Hado inched closer to you, eyes bright with ideas.

You looked at Mirio for help, "I hope you don't think that way for your relationship."

Hado blinked, "Of course not. I've been with Mirio for ages though. You're relationship hardly seems serious. I mean, none of us have met him and your dad hasn't either."

Guilt was all that was on your mind, "It is serious, I like him a lot."

"But you don't love him," Hado pointed out, "It's obvious you're not proud of it, you'd be proud of Hawks though."

This was getting on your nerves, all the alcohol fading from your senses. You looked away for a moment, trying to ease your emotions and locking your eyes with Tamaki. He wouldn't even look at you.

"Got it!" Hado cheered next to you, typing in your phone like it was hers.

"Hado!"

"I texted him!"

Your heart dropped, "What the fuck."

"Come on, it isn't that serious," Mirio said, seeing how your entire mood vanished.

You snatched your phone from her hands and saw the message on the screen.

     Hey, how you been?

Sent to Hawks.

You looked at Tamaki, he just had a blank reaction on his face.

"Hado!" you snapped your head to her, "That is not okay to do!"

"It's fine," Hado tried to calm you down, "You can just tell your boyfriend that I did it. He has to understand celebrity crushes."

"Trust me, he'll know you did it. Doesn't make it okay."

"Every guy has crushes, he'll understand," Hado smiled at you, rolling her eyes at your reaction.

"Yeah, but he isn't making moves on them," you glared.

"He would if he could," she shrugged. You didn't even know how to take that statement but before you could process it, she turned to Tamaki, "You have a celebrity crush right?"

"What- why does that matter- I don't-"

"Trying to prove a point, you liked Mt. Lady a little bit right?"

"I- um- I guess, but not anymore- I have a-"

"A girlfriend I know," she cut him off again, turning to you, "See, everyone has crushes."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they have their crush's number in their phone," you shot back.

"Anyway!" Mirio called out loudly, not likely the argument that was coming up, "It's getting late, you guys should head home."

You huffed, glaring at Hado and your brother, "Gladly." You got up and Tamaki followed slowly behind.

Mirio waved you two out, not even saying anything but giving a sad smile towards you.

When you got the the elevator, safe from other ears, you turned to Tamaki, "I am so sorry-"

"It's fine," he mumbled, looking down at his feet, "I don't want to talk about it."

The usual fumble of his words was gone, too into his head already to care how he spoke.

"I swear Tamaki-"

"I know," he glanced at you, giving you a reassuring smile that hardly helped.

Even when he walked you to your door, he just left. Not staying the night like it was planned.

Things were officially worse than you thought.

Before you even got to go to bed, your phone buzzed.

     Great, now that you texted. Long time no talk, missing me? ;)

Just when things couldn't get worse, Hawks just had to text.

You deleted the chats before talking a shower to sleep. Texting Tamaki that you were sorry once again. Talking about previous crushes was already weird to talk about in his presence, but to actually text them was horrid.

Through the next couple days, you tried to reach out to Tamaki, getting ignored for the most part. He even refused to come over, which had Mirio thinking he was sick.

Yet when you softly knocked on his office, you were greeted with his clearly healthy, if not tired, face when you stepped inside.

He kept his eyes on his desk as spoke, "Sorry, I was just finishing this project up-," when he looked up his eyes widened as he whispered your name.

"Hey," you closed the door softly, walking up to his desk and standing on the opposite side from him, crossing your arms so you didn't mess with your hands, "Mirio thinks you're sick."

His eyes fell in shame, "Sorry."

"I'm not mad at you," you uncrossed your arms, "Just worried. You haven't been talking to me- you haven't even stopped by since."

He looked like a wreck in all the ways that were only noticeable to you. His eyes were more tired than normal, dark circles giving clear evidence of how little sleep he got. The normal hero suit he had on had rips over the cape, him clearly not caring enough to replace it. One thing that was good about his quirk, is that it forced him to eat, so you didn't have to worry in that regard.

"I know," he looked up at you, shoulders slouched and head still down, barely making eye contact through his bangs. "Everything just became a lot."

"Do you not want to anymore?" you shifted how you were standing, trying to prepare yourself for what he'd say next.

"No- I mean- I want to continue dating- just- I don't know," he groaned in frustration over how he fumbled his words, "Are you serious about me?"

Hado saying your relationship wasn't serious, was the biggest lie you ever heard, so for it to be effecting Tamaki, made you feel horrible. "I am, very," you nodded aggressively, "Tamaki, you mean the world to me."

His eyes stayed on the papers that lay on his desk, "So you're proud of us?"

"Of course," you basically pleaded, grabbing his hands over the desk that lay clenched at his sides, "Very, I'd show you off if I could."

"Hm," he squeezed your hands back.

"I mean it," you tugged on his hands lightly, making him look you in the eye.

"Can I-" he paused, gathering the courage, "Can I meet your dad?"

"Huh? You've met him before?" you tilted your head.

"No- I meant like, as your" he looked down shyly again, whispering now, " your boyfriend."

"Oh," you smiled, "Oh course, he'd love you."

"Are you sure?" he looked back up at you.

"He already does, he'd just be happier," you confirmed, "he always wanted us to end up together, believe it or not."

Tamaki's face flushed, "Oh. Do you think it's a good idea?"

"Don't worry, he won't tell Mirio," you reassured. Taking your hands out of his so you could place your stuff down. Taking your phone out of your pocket and placing it next to your purse on his desk.

You walked over to his side of the desk, wrapping him in a hug.

"I'm glad you want to meet him, in that way," you mumbled into him, "I'm sorry that this is the way your meeting him, though."

"Hm," Tamaki wrapped his arms around you, soaking in the comfort of your embrace after depriving himself of it for a week. .

"Nothing said that night was true," you wanted to clear up any insecurity that he could have from that night. Wanting him to have no reason to feel afraid.

He hugged you tighter, "Thank you."

You pulled back from the hug, placing a small kiss on his lips, surprising him. "I only have eyes for you."

The soft smile that traced his face made you feel like you fell in love with him all over again.

"So will you be coming over again?" you played with the hair at the base of his neck, arms still wrapped around each other.

He nodded softly, indigo hair fluffing out around your fingers. He was glowing in this light. The sun casting through the windows to highlight his features just right. You looked over him briefly, causing him to go red in the face and down his neck at you obviously checking him out.

"I haven't really seen you in your hero suit this close-up," you mentioned, taking in the way it highlighted his arms.

He shifted, "Yeah."

"Looks good," you looked up at him through your lashes.

Being away from him, if only for a week, made you more bold. "Yeah?" he practically melted at the compliment.

"Mhm," you hummed, leaning into your tip-toes so you could press your lips to his.

Softly connecting your lips as if you were reminding yourself what they felt like. Humming softly against him in the process.

You were getting worked up just at the feeling of him, stepping closing into his as you tilted your head to the side, anything to get closer.

The back of his knees hit his chair lightly, wheeling it back slightly before he moved his arm to catch it before it got too far. Wheeling it back under him so he could sit, taking you with him without breaking the kiss, sitting you in his lap.

His confidence had you reeling, hands pulling his head back so you could deepen the kiss, trailing your tongue to meet his. His hands tracing over your waist to pull you closer. Goosebumps rising under your clothes at the action. He bit at your lip, the first time he's ever been so forward, a soft moan slipping from you in reaction.

"Tama," you uttered, breath lost and body lost in the feeling of the kiss, your hips rolling against his.

He stopped kissing you, eyes wide as he looked at you, hands holding your hips steady. "I don't-" he fumbled, "In my office?"

You were basically delirious with how he kissed you, dipping your head down so you could trail kisses down his neck, "Why," you faded out, "why not?"

"Someone could walk in," he tensed, but still tilting his head to give you better access.

"Doubt it," you mumbled, trailing back up to kiss his lips.

He groaned quietly, "Hm," he hummed, losing all the fight he had as you licked into his mouth. Losing the grip he had on your hips, letting you free as he moved his hands up and down your waist.

Every time you had made out before this, he was always so hesitant. You were almost thankful for the actions of Hado that made this happen.

Taking his spike of confidence and shifting your hands from his hair to his arms. Getting a whine of disagreement before you squeezed at his biceps. Trailing down to hike his hands up higher, right underneath the wire of your bra.

You let your hands work back up his arms, weaving one into his hair and the other on his pec. Pulling on his hair just like he liked while appreciating his body at the same time. This was the closest you've gotten after all.

His hands stayed where you placed them for a moment, only moving after you ground your hips down into his again. His confidence was high when a moan a surprise left your lips. You didn't expect him to actually do it, just mainly hoped after you offered.

He palmed at your tits while you kissed him sloppily, mind drunk off him with hardly anything being given. It was just what he did to you. Sometimes you felt stupid around him with how he made you feel. You could only imagine how brain-dead you'd be around him when you actually fucked.

You've only wanted this since you knew what it was.

You wanted to savor it all, every shaky breath he let out, and every squeeze of his hands. Even if he stopped here, you'd die happy.

Makeouts that lead nowhere lit a fire under you, and that's how each makeout with him has gone. You could be kissing for hours without noticing the passing of time. However slow this relationship was, you'd be happy to match its pace.

You pulled apart, needing the slightest bit of air but gaining none. Losing your breath just at the sight of him. Lips red and plush, hair messier than usual, heavy breaths rising his chest under your hand while his eyes were locked on his hands that laid on your chest.

His eyes flickered up to meet your eyes, his hands slowing their movement to just lay over your tits.

"What?" he husked out, eyes lidding.

You smiled down at him, "You're so fuckin hot."

His face was red before but it went brighter at your comment, "I- oh."

You wanted to frown at the lost in his confidence but you didn't want to make it worse.

His eyes shot to his door, "I think we should- um- cool it."

"Okay," you mumbled, kissing him lightly as you got up from his lap, leaning on the edge of his desk instead while you tried not to notice the tent in his pants.

He wheeled the chair closer, looking up at you before shyly looking down, "Sorry."

"It's fine," you said honestly, smoothing his hair down.

He moved his chair closer, letting his head rest on your stomach while you ran your hands through his hair softly. His hands reached for the back of your thighs, massaging them slightly. "I know you want more-"

"Tama," you moved your hands to his jaw, guiding him to look up at you, "It's okay, I promise. You're all I need."

"Okay," he mumbled, looking back down. You were standing between his legs as he messed with the fabric of your outfit.

Your phone buzzed next to you. Both your attentions' turned to the message displayed on the screen.

     You drunk text me didnt u? Too shocked that I replied?

Hawks double texting you was not even an idea you thought possible.

"Did you- did you text him more?" Tamaki eyed you, sitting normally in his chair now, no longer touching you.

"No," you furrowed your eyebrows, "He double texted."

"Hawks?" he asked, doubting you.

"Yeah," you picked up your phone, offering to show him the texts.

"I don't want to be the person that has to look at your texts to prove something," he shook his head, voice unwavering as his eyes turned dim.

You frowned, "That's not what I was saying- I'm just going to tell him what happened."

"Tell him you had a crush on him?"

"No- not that- just that Hado texted him," you mumbled, shifting awkwardly at how upset Tamaki was.

"Hm."

You sighed, typing away a text-

     Sorry, my friend texted you when she was drunk

"I don't want Hawks," you tried to comfort.

Tamaki just sighed, turning to look out the window instead.

     Sure, sweety, why was I mentioned?

The boy in front of you ignored the sound of your phone.

     My friends stupid, thought it'd be funny if I flirted with you when I have a boyfriend.

You didn't want Hawks to get the slightest idea that you would want him back.

     Oh, wtf lol. Ur friend is weird as fuck for that

     I aint that guy

Letting out a sigh of relief caught Tamaki's attention.

"Hawks is officially out," you told him, even though that wasn't the entire issue.

Tamaki gave you an odd look, one you couldn't analyze the reason behind before you heard the door click open.

"Tamaki!" Mirio's voice cheered as he entered. Pausing when he saw you, "Sis?"

"Hi," you stood up and faced him, "Whatcha doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" Mirio looked between you and Tamaki.

"You said he was sick, I was worried," you shrugged.

Mirio hummed, giving you another weird look before turning his attention to Tamaki, "You okay? You don't look too good."

"Hm?" Tamaki looked uninterest when he looked back at Mirio, it sent a pang to your heart.

"Did something happen?" Mirio looked between you two. The guilt you felt was probably written across your face.

"No, just a long day," Tamaki answered for you.

"Ah," Mirio nodded in understanding, "Bad time to tell you that we have patrol?"

"No," Tamaki shook his head, standing up and grabbing his visor, "Great timing."

"Oh good!" Mirio smiled, oblivious to the dig at you.

You scratched your arms awkwardly, not knowing what to do with yourself knowing you were no longer wanted.

Mirio smiled at you when you cleared your throat, about to make your exit. "Oh, Hado wants me to invite you to dinner, to apologize for the other night," he pleaded with his eyes for you to accept.

"Oh, um, I don't know Mirio," your eyes flashed to Tamaki. You were still upset with what she did. After all, the effects of it still haven't gone away.

"Tamaki, you should go too," Mirio smiled at him, "It'll be a little redo."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on guys, please?" Mirio put on his classic puppy eyes, basically forcing the two of you to say yes.

So even though you ended on bad terms earlier in the day, and have yet to talk about any of it, you were sat next to each other for dinner.

Fidgeting with your straw as you listened to Hado nag at him. You felt horrible for him but you could hardly focus on the conversation as your head ran through what went down earlier.

"Come on," Hado begged, "You haven't told us anything!"

"I- I don't know," Tamaki shrunk in on himself. Sinking into his seat in the booth you guys shared. Tamaki barely agreed to this tonight, and now he was getting questioned.

"Guys-" you tried to help despite what happened earlier.

"Shush, you're next," Hado pointed at you, "Both of you haven't told us anything about your relationships."

"Not true," Tamaki mumbled into his collar, "I've told Mirio some stuff."

"Hardly," Mirio laughed as if this was all in good fun, ignoring your sharp glare, "You've just me some of your issues."

"Huh?" you turned your gaze to Tamaki, not believing he ran to your brother.

"No- Not like that, I haven't had any issues-"

"Come on Tamaki, it's okay to admit. Every couple has issues-"

"We haven't argued- I have no issues-"

"You struggle to tell her stuff, plus you clearly had issues with what you've told me," Mirio pointed out, shrugging as he laid back in his seat.

"No-"

"Just today you said that you're worried she's talking to someone else."

"What?" you paled, looking at Tamaki in shock.

Tamaki's eyes flashed to yours and back to Mirio's, "I- um."

Though frustrated, you didn't want to bring this up here. You tried to tell him earlier but apparently a longer conversation was needed.

"That and you can't fully connect with her because of how anxious you are," Mirio added on top of it all.

"Mirio," you hissed, "Knock it off, his business doesn't need to be exposed." You also didn't want to hear any more of it, not from him.

"It's hardly exposing-"

"You're being a dick, I don't care you're intentions," you glared.

Mirio shut his mouth and gave Tamaki a sad smile, turning his attention fully to you instead, "Well what about you?"

"Me?"

"How's your boyfriend? You never talk about him."

"You never talked about Hado?" you shot back, already upset.

Mirio shrugged, "I did, just not about our relationship. Come on, how is he?"

You rolled your eyes, "I'm not gonna be home tonight, I'm going to his place."

Tamaki let out a confused noise.

"You seem mad," Hado pointed out, concerned.

"Oh," you tried to calm yourself, "I'm just not sure he and I are on the same road right now."

Mirio and Hado both gave you a sad face as Tamaki looked at you as if he was terrified. As if he didn't already agree. He thought you were cheating, clearly you weren't on the same path.

"I'm sorry," Hado placed her hand on yours, " I hope I didn't have anything to do with it. I'm here for you if you need me."

"Huh?"

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mirio asked softly.

"What? No," you huffed, "I'm going to go-"

"I'm sorry," Tamaki mumbled, shyly watching as you shuffled out of the booth.

You glance back at him, before talking to the group, "I'll see you guys later."

While you wanted to stay back and be there to make sure Tamaki wasn't questioned further, you couldn't stick around to hear anymore.

Your adrenalin was pumping as you walked to Tamaki's apartment. Hands tight around your sleeves as you paced the span of his hallway.

Everything that happened today was too much. First time you talked to your boyfriend in a week, then you kiss him, then your old crush texts you, and then he thinks you're cheating. You scoffed out loud.

"You okay?"

You spun to the sound of a voice, "Oh- Hi Kirishima," you smiled at the redhead.

"You seem upset?" he tilted his head like a puppy.

"I- Don't worry about it, I'm fine," you brushed him off.

"Did Amajiki upset you?"

You blinked at him for a second, forgetting briefly that just because those close to you didn't know, that didn't mean no one knew. Kirishima has seen you leave Tamaki's apartment many times and learned himself. After all, he was his neighbor. "Kind of- It's complicated."

Kirishima leaned into the wall next to him, "I'm free to talk to."

"Tamaki should be back soon, I don't want him to think I'm talking shit," you declined.

"Well besides Amajiki, how's life?" he smiled at you.

You smiled, "Well, I recently watched the anime you and Kaminari were ranting about."

"Really? Denki's here now, wanna come in to talk about it?"

Your eyes flashed to the elevator, "I'm not sure-"

"Bro what are you doing-" Kaminari's head popped out Kirishima's door, "Oh hey~"

You frowned, "Hey," you greeted, acknowledging the flirty tone.

"Didn't know you lived here," he pushed himself out of the doorway to smile at you.

"I don't, I was just visiting a friend," you denied.

"At eleven?" Kaminari tilted his head.

The elevator dinging caught your attention, seeing Tamaki anxiously walk towards you.

"We should let you be," Kirishima smiled at you, nudging his shoulder into Kaminari.

"Oh-," Kaminari basically had a lightbulb go off in his brain, "that type of friend," he whispered.

"Goodnight!" Kirishima waved before shutting his door.

You let out a breath, glad Kaminari wasn't flirting in front of Tamaki, it'd only make his suspicions worse. You turned to fully face him, "Hey-"

"You're not breaking up with me right?" Tamaki mumbled, pulling at his sleeves as his eyes shook when trying to make eye contact.

"What- No, I just think we need to talk," you motioned for his door. Leading him to quickly unlock his door and motion for you to enter.

"Do you need water? Food?"

"Tamaki," you called out, "It's fine, just sit,"

His eyes flickered to you as he turned to look at the ground again, dragging his feet before sitting on the couch, you following shortly behind.

"Tamak-"

"Can I say something first?" he rushed out, continuing after you gave him a nod, "Thank you for trying to get Mirio to stop. And I'm sorry."

"Tamaki," you grabbed his hands lightly, untangling his hands gently, "I'm not mad at you, I just want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Like- why did you tell Mirio but not me? He can't solve the problem," you frowned.

"I'm just worried," Tamaki looked down at your hands, "I'm surprised you even want me- so I wouldn't be surprised if you left me. Especially for him."

"Tama-"

"I don't think you'll cheat on me," he continued, "I just get insecure when you're talking to another guy."

"I didn't want to talk to him-"

"I know, I just- he's everything I'm not," he squeezed your hand lightly, still refusing eye contact, "I just don't wanna mess things up, and knowing he's my competition- I don't know. I don't want to mess things up by complaining."

"You know that's not what I want, right?" you questioned, "I don't want to date anyone but you. I need you to talk to me"

He sighed, peering up at you, "I know."

Taking advantage that he was already looking at you, you moved your hands away from his and cupped his face. "I want you for all your anxiousness, I want to know you, not whoever you think I want." You knew that Tamaki wasn't hiding everything, but just in case he was, you wanted to make sure he got your point.

"Okay," he mumbled.

"Who have I even been dating for the last four months?" you joked.

His eyes flashed with worry, "I haven't been hiding anything! I just- I just didn't want you to think I was dramatic."

"I know," you smiled, pulling him in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck lightly as you rested your head on his.

"Thank you again," he mumbled into your shoulder, "for making Mirio stop asking questions. It's embarrassing."

"Anytime. Just make sure to come to me next time, not my brother."

You truly meant that, because now at parties, when someone gets too close or makes him anxious, you made your way to his side and helped him sneak away. He came to you now, trusted you.

Which became difficult when Mirio was always watching. Pointing out how Tamaki always shifted closer to you in public. As if he was glued to your hip. Stating how, no matter where you stood, Tamaki always had his eyes on you.

"I don't think he ever got over his little crush," Mirio always said in response.

"I feel bad for his girlfriend," was also mumbled one night, right after Tamaki left.

"What do you mean?"

"Tamaki is all over you like he looks like he got a breath of fresh air just by looking at you."

It was comforting, Tamaki even called you his 'home' one time when you were watching TikTok, commenting on how he saw people compare their relationship to a safe place. Obviously he became embarrassed when he realized what he said.

Because even though you've dating for six months now, you've never said anything too lovey. You were trying to match his pace, not wanting to fluster him into saying it back. In that same spirit, when you spent that night at his, it was often spent on his couch, never entering his room.

"You can go into my room and grab a change of clothes if you need," Tamaki offered as he helped you take your rain-soaked coat off. The two of you having returned from your six-month anniversary date, a small thing Tamaki deemed necessary to celebrate.

"I need a shower," you mumbled, peeling off a wet sock.

"You can do that too," he mumbled, face bright red at the idea of you showering.

"It's fine, I can go home and shower," you mustered up a smile, "I don't wanna intrude."

He paused in his motions of taking off his own coat, just blinking at you instead, "Intrude?"

"Yeah."

"My home is your home, you know?" he spoke softly. You processed that slowly, turning to look at him fully. "I love you," he rushed out.

You laughed lightly at how sheepish he looked, "I love you too, Tama." You walked to him and squeezed him into a hug, getting grossed out quickly with how your clothes squished together, pulling apart with a quick kiss. "I needa shower, can you show me how it works? I remember you complaining that it's complicated."

He turned the shower on for you, gave you a towel, and took your drenched clothes to wash while you showered. Squeaking and talking high pitched when he entered the bathroom with you showering, even though you were fully hidden behind a curtain. So he placed your clothes and left as quickly as possible, saying he'd shower in the guest room.

With you all changed, surrounded by Tamaki, you padded around his room, taking in the surroundings he placed around everything. It was a very moody bedroom, filled with dark colors, but it was nice, and easy on the eyes. Calming.

"Are you done?" he knocked on his own bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," you turned towards his voice. Soaking in the view of him freshly out of the shower. Sure you've seen him with wet hair just moments ago, but him being clean and at home, with you, changed the feel of it.

He pouted slightly, a permanent blush on his cheeks, "That shirt looks better on you than me."

You looked down with a smile, "You should let me keep it."

"If- if you want to," he fumbled for a second, padding over to you slowly. Reminding you to absorb all of this moment that you could. Him freshly showered, covered in a grey sweater hanging on him loosely, and blue plaid pajama pants doing the same. He walked past you and to his bed, laying on one side before he eyed you and then the spot next to him, "Do you wanna-"

You practically skipped into bed, jumping into it and halfway onto him as you hugged him. "I love you," you mumbled into his neck. Basically getting cuteness aggression with how he has been acting all night and how he looks right now.

"I um- I love you too," he hugged you back, arms awkwardly wrapped around you, stunned.

You placed a quick kiss on his neck before trailing upwards, kissing his jaw and then his lips. Emotions running on overdrive as you thought over tonight.

Not only had you shared a beautiful dinner at the same place you guys had your first date, but the two of you shared your first 'I love yous' it had you reeling through it all.

Tamaki was as shy as ever with the kiss, following all your movements as your tongue licked into his mouth. Tilting his head back slightly and gripping onto your hips, allowing you to climb over and straddle him.

Moaning ever so slightly when you bit at his lip.

Slotting yourself over his hips made you buzz, your hips rocking into his.

"Fuck," he whimpered. He helped you move your hips over his slightly. Running you perfectly over the length of him.

"Tama-" you pressed your lips to his again, breathless from the kiss and the movements, feeling him become hard under you.

"Do you wanna-"

"Yes," Tamaki cut you off, rocking his hips into yours slightly, already knowing exactly what you'd suggest even with it never discussed before, "Please."

You pulled away to look at him for a moment, having your hands tangle into his hair as you looked him over. His face was flushed, eyes screwed shut. "Why'd you stop?" he husked, his eyes now barely open, keeping them lidded as they were heavy with the situation.

"You're so fuckin hot," you mumbled in disbelief that you currently had him under you and wanting, finally doing something about it rather than all the times before.

He whined, moving his hand to trail up your back, pushing you into him again so he could reconnect your lips as you rutted your hips. Breaths heavy but hardly catching any air as you lost yourself in the feeling of him against you, panting against your mouth.

He was running himself perfectly over your clit, catching your moans in his mouth. You never thought it'd be possible to cum from this alone, but you were already climbing that hill fast. Just needing an extra push as you whined.

Tamaki moved back slightly voice shaky, "Are you close?"

"Just need a little more," you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling slightly.

"Can I touch you? Want you to cum," he asked, the words sounded so off, coming from his normally embarrassed self.

"Tama," you laughed lightly," of course you can, I'm literally dry-humping you right now-"

"Shush," he hushed, head falling into your shoulder with embarrassment. His hands trailed up, softly going over your waist until they were hovering over your chest. Gasping when he realized you weren't wearing a bra when he cupped your chest, "Oh my god."

He kissed your shoulder, biting lightly at your collarbone as his hand squeezed at your chest, his fingers meeting to pinch at your nipple. "Please Tama," you moaned, you were already so close.

So when he pulled back from your neck and just looked at you with his desperate expression, whispering, "I love you so much," your eyes rolled into the back of your head, shaking and falling apart on top of him, fully clothed. Seeing white.

"Oh my god," you felt boneless, letting yourself fully relax on him. You've never cum because of someone, never even got to the point.

"You okay?" he asked, his hands running up and down your back.

You laughed breathlessly, "Yes, more than good," you kissed his jaw before pushing yourself up to look at him.

Trailing your eyes to the still obvious tent in his pants, slightly bummed you didn't get him off. "What's wrong?" he shifted, anxious under your eyes.

"You didn't cum," you pouted.

"I- was I supposed to- I'm sorry-" he tensed.

"No," you squeezed his shoulders, "I just wanted you to." You moved your hands over his pecs and down to his abs, feeling him flex underneath.

"You don't have to," he bit back a groan when your nails scratched at his skin and slipped underneath his sweater.

"I know," you leaned back into him, kissing his jaw before moving to nip at his neck like he did to yours. Placing marks over the side of his neck while he whimpered, hands squeezing at your slides.

You kept your hands moving, tracing over his abs before slowly sliding under his pants and under his boxers. Feeling brave before you actually had your palm over him. You've only done this once before, all the way back in high school with some guy you hardly liked. Now you were scared you would freak him out.

Palming him gently before wrapping your hand around him. Biting your lip at the gasp that left his lips. His hips slightly rolling into your hand.

You moved away from him, moving your hands to peel his pants down so you could see him.

He jumped at your grip on his waistband, "wait-"

You paused, "You okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you smiled at him, "Are you?"

"I- I am just- don't look at it," he mumbled, gripping onto your thighs.

"I kinda have to look at it babe," you moved your hands off his pants, "If you're not ready It's okay."

Tamaki frowned, "No- I want to- just, don't judge me?"

You furrowed your brows, "Never even thought of it."

"Okay- you can, be gentle," he stuttered, looking towards the ceiling.

You gave him a quick kiss on the lips, shuffling back and moving his pants just enough so you could see his dick. Whatever he didn't want you to look at was stupid, and impossible now. The length of him bobbed once you removed his pants, twitching as it laid on his pelvis.

"Don't stare," Tamaki shuffled under you, reminding you to move. Wrapping your hand around the base of him for a second, before moving back. A whine leaving his throat as he opened his eyes to see what you were doing, A sharp moan from deep in his throat left his lips when he saw you spit into your hands before wrapping your hand around him again.

Pumping the length of him slowly, letting both of you get a feel for it. He jerked up into your hold, hands squeezing at your thighs before he wrapped his hand around yours. Tighten your grip around him, guiding your hand.

"Just- just like that," his eyes fluttered shut, his hand moving off yours when you followed his motions. Adding your own touch by running your thumb over his tip everything you reached it. His breath hitching at every touch.

You were sure that the second you saw him in the light, that he'd be perfect.

His hands reached for your ass, pulling you closer until you had enough room to get him off between your thighs. Panting out moans. Eyes lidded and eyebrows pinched together as he watched you.

He moved to sit up for a second, resting on one elbow before using the other arm to pull his shirt off, throwing it to the side of the room before resting back on his elbows. Letting his hands grip at your hips.

"I love you so much," you cooed, anything he did was godly in your eyes. He was beautiful, letting a whiney breath of your name loose.

He opened his heavy-lidded eyes, locking eyes with you.

The look on him made you want to do anything he wanted. Running over his length with more passion.

"Fuck, I want you in me," you mumbled, looking down to appreciate how his muscles were tensing and untensing, chest heaving.

His eyes rolled back, slurring his words, "Can't say stuff like that."

"Mhm," you hummed, watching him roll his head back, hips pressing up to you, "I want you so bad, Tamaki."

He struggled to look at you again, the eye contact making him struggle to keep calm. Too many times he has thought about this exact situation. Probably since high school.

"I need you to come, baby," you spoke softly, you wanted to be the reason for his undoing.

He huffed, clearly in his head as he pushed his head into the pillow.

"Just let go," you whispered, your free hand falling between both your legs and lightly holding his balls, squeezing gently.

All air left his lungs, hips jolting up as he came. Thighs shaking under you. Cum coating over your hand as he silently came, mouth twitching as he worked through his high. Moaning loudly only after he stopped cuming, breathing heavily.

His hand grabbed at your wrist, pleading for you to stop with heavy breaths. You moved your not cum covered hand over his abs, coaxing him through the last waves of bliss.

He let out a shaky breath, "Fuck."

"You okay?" you smiled down at him.

His face was bright red as he nodded, "That's the hardest I've ever- you know."

Pride flowed through you. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips before moving to get off him.

"Where you going?" he tightened his grip on your thighs.

"I need a rag or something," you laughed.

"Oh," he blushed, letting you get up to grab the towel you used earlier. Wiping off your hands before moving to go help him. "I can do it," he muttered, embarrassed as he grabbed the towel from you and cleaned himself off before throwing the towel to the side. Pulling his pants back up and reaching for you.

You stepped out of his reach, shifting uncomfortably, "I- uh, need a different part of shorts."

He blinked at you confused, looking down at your shorts, before shooting his eyes back up, "Oh- I- um, third drawer down," he pointed towards his dresser. Eyes following you as you padded over to it.

"Sorry," you mumbled as you pulled out the first thing you saw, just a plain black pair of boxers.

"What?" Tamaki moved to sit up right, "Why?"

"I just came in your boxers," you shot him a look, as if he was stupid. Turning so you could look at him as you pushed the sticky pair of shorts off and the new boxers on, already having cleaned yourself when you grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

You felt his eyes trail over your body as you changed. He could only see your thighs because of how his shirt fit you. Watching you carefully as you stepped into another pair of his shorts.

"I'm glad you did," he spoke without much thought.

"That I came in your pants?"

"I- no, well yes, but that you came," he fumbled over the words. Eyes following you as you came back to the bed, snuggling straight into his side.

You snorted at his words, "Of course you are."

"What do you mean?" his hand held your hip, letting you hook your leg over him as you laid your head on his chest. His other hand holding your thigh to him.

"Every guy is over the moon when they make a girl cum," you explained.

"It's not just that," Tamaki sighs, "I'm glad we did that cause it- it makes us closer."

"Aw," you chooed, moving your head to lay a kiss on his jaw, "If you're in love with me, just say it."

"I'm in love with you," he locked eyes with you while he said it, completely confident in his words.

You smiled hard, "I'm in love with you."

The phrases 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you' were completely different to you. Both meaning completely different things than the other, you could be one without the other. You've explained this to him, so him saying it meant the world.

Emotions were high that night, as well as into the following morning. You were too comfy, cozied under his covers for the first time, ignoring the alarm blaring next to you.

You reached to turn it off, clumsily pressing the snooze button before scooting back into Tamaki. Content as he hugged you tighter to him, squeezing you. A laugh left you when you noticed his hand was tucked under your shirt and placed on your tit.

"Mh," he grumbled into your neck.

"Tama," you traced over his arm curled over your stomach.

"Hm?"

"You got work baby."

He stretched his legs out, only then realizing his hand placement, "sorry," he muttered, caring less because of how tired he was. Sitting upright before rubbing at his eyes, trying to wake up.

You turned to face him, rubbing a hand up and down his back to try and help wake him up.

He shrugged you off, "Gonna make me tired."

"Sorry," you laughed lightly, yawning a falling back into the pillow.

"Go back to sleep," he looked at you over his shoulder.

"Mhm," you hummed, looking over the muscles carved into his back. He patted your thigh before getting up to get ready. Your eyes followed him until they became too heavy, closing softly and letting you fall back asleep without the warmth of him.

He stepped around carefully, taking a shower in the guest room to avoid waking you. Tip-toeing around his room when he got back. Throwing on a random shirt and sweater, noticing the rain that was still going strong from last night. A random pair of sweats following his shirt. An outfit he just needed to wear too and from the office, where he'd change into his hero gear there.

A hand rubbing at your hips woke you up softly, along with his voice, "I gotta leave."

"No," you grumbled, grabbing lightly at his hand that laid on you.

"You can stay as long as you want, just text me when you leave," he smiled softly at your actions. Annoyed at the fact that he had to leave you.

"Okay," you murmured, "I love you."

"I love you," the comfort in those words lightened up his mood even more than it already was. You pouted your lips, indirectly asking for a kiss. Humming happily when he placed a light kiss on your lips, adding an extra kiss to your cheek for good luck as well.

"Be safe," you let go of his hand, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"I will," he smiled, reluctantly leaving you.

Mirio would not let Tamaki catch a break.

All throughout the work day and even into the evening when Tamaki went to your apartment.

"This is the first time I've seen you with a hickey," Mirio clapped Tamaki's shoulder.

You turned your eyes off the TV to look at the boys, their greeting was quiet at first but Mirio spoke loudly at that last sentence.

Tamaki's eyes caught yours before he looked at Mirio, tugging his collar up, "Mirio."

"Fine, fine," Mirio laughed, "Just glad to see you getting out of your shell."

"Hm."

"It's good to share that."

"Mirio," you cut in, "I don't need to hear about this."

"Jealous?"

"Hardly," you laughed, turning your head back to the TV.

"Sure," Mirio teased as they walked to join you in the living room.

"Projecting?" you raised a brow at him. He glared at you as he sat in his favorite chair, Tamaki sitting next to you.

The two softly talked about stuff you could care less about, focusing on the TV until their conversation interested you again.

"When will you guys just live together? She's over so often," Mirio groaned.

"You don't live with Hado," Tamaki mumbled.

"Cause I have a sister that's dragged along with me."

"Aye," you threw a pillow at him.

"Why don't you live with your boyfriend?" Mirio switched to you.

"Why are you always questioning my relationship?"

Mirio gave you a blank look before shrugging. Switching the topic to dinner while you left the room. Slightly hear Tamaki suggest food you liked instead of their interest. It was sweet.

He got along with your family so well, sometimes better than you. You were worried that when you finally owned up to your relationship, that'd it'd break the bonds.

One bond it wouldn't break was with your dad.

You called him before, telling him all about your boyfriend as things went on. Only now finally accepting an invite for dinner.

Stepping through the door was a huge step, giving Tamaki a reassuring look over your shoulder before calling out for your dad.

"In the kitchen," he called back. So you stepped slowly through your house, Tamaki always a couple steps back.

"You ready to meet him?" you peeked through the living so your dad could see you, Tamaki conveniently placed against a wall. Head hidden from the world.

"Of course," your dad cheered. You already knew how happy he was about this, but seeing it was nice.

You guestered for Tamaki, him peaking at you from under his hair. Taking a deep breath before stepping into view.

"Oh."

"Sorry," Tamaki squeaked out.

"Sorry?" your dad looked at him confused.

"For, um- dating her without your permission," Tamaki kept his head down.

You looked between the two, curious who this would go. The only words that could help Tamaki right now would be your dad's.

"I'm glad it's you, boy," your dad smiled brightly, clapping his hands on Tamaki's shoulders.

Tamaki raised his head, "You are?" Tamaki would never say it, but your dad was basically his dad. He looked up to him in all the ways a son looks at his father. His father died while he was young, so he found another in yours. So the validation meant the world.

"Yes," your dad laughed, pulling him into a bear hug, "hopefully you actually become my son now."

You laughed warmly, "See? Nothing bad, as I promised."

Your dad replied first, "I was worried it wouldn't be Tamaki, after all my work."

"Dad stop your matchmaking," you groaned, following after your dad when he returned back into the kitchen.

"You were right," Tamaki mumbled to you, shifting his attention back to your dad when asked a question.

"You still working your quirk?"

"Yeah."

"Great, made your favorites."

"Dad," you glared, "you didn't even know if it was him."

"My heart told me it was."

"And if it wasn't?"

"I'd hope the food would make you think about him," he hummed.

You groaned, sitting down in your seat. Mirio got his meddling from Dad, and it was obvious.

"What? Mirio might be oblivious to your crush but I could see it clear as day," your dad pointed a spoon at you two.

Tamaki flushed next to you, taking charge and shifting the conversation himself. Chatting with your dad while you just smiled and watched. Appreciating how all could be normal. How this could be how life was?

While you were fine keeping your relationship secret, it still took a toll on you whether you liked it or not. Hiding it from Mirio was hard. You wanted to be closer to Tamaki, say what you wanted, and share what you wanted.

All in time is what you kept telling yourself.

Tamaki stepped away for a moment, looking for something in Mirio's room that came up in conversation.

"He looks as if you hung the stars in the sky," your dad spoke softly.

"What?" you focused back in on the conversation.

He shrugged, "It's easy to tell he loves you."

You smiled softly.

"It's always been easy to tell, but only now you're willing to hear it," your dad sassed.

"Oh my god, I know- I was a little slow," you admitted with a laugh.

Tamaki easily blended back into the conversation when he came back.

Things were always easy with him.

The only thing that wasn't was hiding.

Just being next to him was risky, it felt as if Mirio knew.

You were just laying on Tamaki's couch, leg over his waist as he placed his laptop on your thigh, typing away at a work report. You comfortably scrolling through your phone. Ignoring Mirio's text and moving to the next video. Showing Tamaki all the funny ones.

"Do you know what I put here?" Tamaki pointed to a text on the screen.

You put your phone down, leaning into his space to get a closer look, "I think that's where you put the chemicals used," you said after a minute, "It's always difficult when they ask what the heroes did. Too much going on to focus."

Tamaki hummed, typing away what you said. Letting you relax back to how you were on his side.

His phone buzzed with a call, him reluctantly taking his eyes off the screen. "It's Mirio," he glanced at you, telling you to be quiet without words, "Hey?"

"Are you doing the work report right now?" Mirio asked eyes closed to the Facetime call. You wanted to laugh.

"Yeah, I'm almost done with it," Tamaki held his phone with one hand, scrolling through the work report with the other.

"Can I see it real quick? Page 7," Mirio begged, "I'm lost."

Tamaki scrolled to that point and flipped the camera without thinking, "Here."

"Is that your girlfriend's leg?"

"Huh?" Tamaki then noticed your leg. You wanted to laugh at the dumb action.

"I didn't know she was there, Hi!" Mirio called out.

Tamaki looked at you panicked, "She's asleep right now."

"Oh, sorry," Mirio laughed, "I got what I needed, I'll let you get back to her." The two hung up and Tamaki just looked at you in disbelief.

"I can't believe I'm so stupid," he groaned, smacking his hand over his eyes.

You laughed now, "It's nothing, now he knows you're not lying though."

Things like this happened often. Mirio almost finding out, but never quite. That or he'd make comments about it.

"You guys are always with your boyfriend and girlfriend at the same time, it's almost like you're dating each other," Mirio side-eyed you.

So you changed things up.

Saying you were with your boyfriend when you knew Tamaki would be with Mirio. Tamaki didn't do the same, he felt guilty for lying already.

But when push came to shove, all he did was lie.

You sat on his couch like normal, startled when you heard a knock on the door and Mirio's voice behind it, "Tamaki! I need a gym partner."

The two of you scrambled off each other, staring at the other for a plan.

"Tamaki! I'm coming in," and in Mirio's fashion, he walked through the door.

Years as a hero gave you quick reactions, so you activated your similar quirk and fell through the couch and the floor.

Mirio always came close to finding out. But the point was that he never did find out.

So you lived in a secret bliss. Enjoying each other company as best as you can.

Tamaki meant so much to you, that you'd give him your all. He was your top priority. Helping him after a long day's work, helping him clean any lasting wounds, and grabbing his ice pack. Always a shoulder for him if he needed it.

He was the same to you, you've called him crying and he'd drop anything to help you.

The relationship between the two of you was more than you've ever had before.

Sure you've dated people before, briefly for a couple of months a most. But here you were, working for seven months with Tamaki.

Imactacy between the two of you was insanely important, and not even on that level. He just always had to have a hand on you. A thigh pressed into yours. He just wanted to be close to you. It was the main way he showed you how much he loved you. And in turn, he loved whenever you complimented him. Practically glowing each time.

You found yourself glowing too, you would cringe if anyone else acted the way you did with him, but he just brought out that light in you.

He approached you on his bed, fresh from his shower. Going under the covers when you opened them for him. Nudging your legs apart so he could lay on you.

His head naturally falling on your chest, his arms wrapping under your waist and pulling you tighter to him.

"I love you," he muttered into your chest, moving to lay a single kiss on your skin, slightly exposed through a tank top.

You let one hand rest in his hair, the other rubbing up and down his bare back. Tracing the slight scars that you could see in the soft light of his room. "I love you too."

He pushed himself up, kissing you softly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," you kissed him again. You've been insanely busy for the past three weeks. Hero work getting hectic and the paperwork getting worse.

He hummed into your lips, slowly deepening the kiss. Taking charge all while taking your breath away. Working you through the kiss as his hands move to rub at your sides. Humming into the kiss when you arch into him.

His hand moving up to grab at your chest. A surprised hum leaving your lips, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You've been in these shoes before. Making out, grabbing at each other, sighing breathlessly into the kiss. Yet he hardly took the lead. He's kissed you passionately before but never in his own bed or somewhere so intimate. You were always the one starting it.

With his hand busy on your chest, he moved his kisses down. Placing them down your jaw then trailing bites down your neck. Making you melt in his hold before he moved his hands down to the hem of your shirt, silently asking you to help him peel it off you.

His face beamed red yet he only took a second to buffer. Taking in the sight of your chest so up-close for the first time. He's seen you in a bra plenty, felt your tits quite a few times, but has never seen them.

Pushing the shock aside, he lifted his eyes to look at yours, as if you'd back down now, before peppering kisses along your chest, whispering, "I love you."

You squeezed at his shoulders when he finally touched his lips to your nipple. Digging your nails slightly into his skin when his hand trailed down the path of your stomach.

"Please," you asked breathily before he could ask.

His hand twitched slightly in hesitation, unsure of his actions before you rolled your hips up the best you could, trying to get any of his touch. Letting out a breathy sigh of his own before he cupped the shape of you through your shorts.

Slowly grinding his hand into you, letting his fingers circle slightly over where you needed him most.

Despite how much you wanted to beg him to hurry, you knew he'd need his time.

His lips left you tit and trailed back up to kiss at your neck. Calming himself down with heavy breaths against you. Gaining the confidence to lift his hand and slip underneath your shorts and underwear. Sighing when he touched the warmth of you, "You're wet."

"Obviously," you softly laughed, rolling your hips into his hand.

He lifted his head to look at you, once again for permission. As if you read his mind, you left your hips, sliding your shorts and panties off your ass. Letting him trail them the rest of the way off your thighs and across the room.

His eyes fell to your face first, always ever so aware of you, before they fell to the space between your legs. His hands squeezed at your thighs, letting himself fall back into the moment and not get stuck in the shock that this was actually happening.

Falling down to kiss you passionately, fueled by everything between you too. He let his hands take charge of the moment, his fingers parting you open so he could run a perfect circle over your clit. Swallowing any gasp you made.

"Where'd you learn that?" you asked breathless. You expected him to be a fumbling mess, unsure and questioning. But he wasn't.

"I- um," you felt the heat radiating off his face, "porn."

You smiled, "Studied?"

"For you," he hummed, kissing you once again and letting the moment continue without many words.

Soaking in all your slight jolts of pleasure as he coaxed you higher. Only dipping his fingers further when he knew you were worked up. Somehow he knew just what to do.

Teasing ever so slightly at your entrance and barely letting his fingers inside, his tongue copying all the movements in your mouth. He only stopped his teasing when you bit his tongue. Letting his fingers sink into you and build up a steady pace.

"Oh my god," you whispered into his mouth.

You've fingered yourself before obviously. But his hand? His presences? Changed everything. All your senses were surrounded by him. You could taste him, smell him, feel him, hear him, and see him. Kissing became impossible to focus on, changing your attention to breathing. Your eyes locking onto the ceiling as you tried to take in the motion of his fingers.

"You okay?" he asked softly into your neck.

Your hands found their spots on his shoulder and the nape of his neck. "Yes, god yes," you whine, because not only was he fingering you, but now he was rubbing at your clit and kissing at your neck.

He was already confident in his actions, otherwise, he never would have started anything, but your sounds spurred him on and it was obvious. He was kissing your neck rougher, being slightly more passionate with his fingers, no longer unsure if their method would work. Rutting into your thigh to help him in any way possible.

The soft sounds you were making made him crave more, wanting you to reach the same peak you had all those nights ago.

Slightly changing the spot his fingers were hitting made you arch slightly, forcing your body closer to his. "Right fucking there, please," you begged, pulling on the ends of his hair.

He followed your hands and stopped hiding in your neck, making eye contact. The look in his eyes had you forcing yours shut. Cumming so unexpectedly fast. Thighs clamping shut as he tried to work you through it all. All you could think about was that look as you came. He was practically begging for you to cum with his eyes all while saying he loved you. It threw you for a loop.

A soft kiss at your lips and his hands retreated had you blinking your eyes open.

"You okay?"

"I love you," you cupped his cheek softly, pulling him in for a sweet kiss.

He laughed lightly against your mouth, "Not only for that, right?"

"Course not," you smiled, kissing him into another kiss.

That night ended in that light, just taking in the step closer the two of you were.

Your relationship was progressing extremely well in all aspects. Because of course, Tamaki was still shy with you, but over the past 8 months, the two of you were closer than ever. He'd tell you anything, and you'd tell him anything. It was a sappy relationship held behind closed doors.

But since that night, you're relationship took another turn and became a lot more sexual. Throwing out random sexual comments casually, mainly you, but sometimes he did too. No matter where you were it was horrible.

"Just sit down girl," Hado laughed at how you were fumbling around drunk.

"Yeah, just come sit on it," Tamaki suggested in a tone, the same tone he said all his other sexual jokes.

"Want me to?" you shot back and he shut up. You were glad only Hado was in the room and just laughed drunkenly.

Another time though-

"Yeah suck it Tamaki!" you cheered, finally having beaten him at a stupid arcade.

"Nah, that's your job."

"Tamaki!" you slapped at his arm and he went beat red, only then realizing what he said and who they were near.

Other than jokes, there were casual discussions about sexual stuff.

"Thanks for dinner," you kissed Tamaki's shoulder, hand rubbing at his back before you moved to hop on the counter next to him. Sitting next to the sink as he washed the dishes you just ate off, refusing to let you do it. "I'm still surprised you're such a good cook," you crossed your legs as you watched him.

"It's mainly because of my quirk, I need to constantly eat and it needs to be useful," he shrugged, moving a clean dish onto the drying rack.

"Makes you a great boyfriend," you watched as he fumbled washing silver wear at your words. "Speaking of your quirk-"

He shot you a glare, "If you're going to ask about tentacles-"

"No," you laughed, knowing how he's had many fangirls mention it to him, even his friends did. "Like how does it work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like is it anything you eat? Does it need certain components?"

"I think it's anything I eat."

"Is there a time on it?"

"I can do it instantly but once it's out, then it's used up."

"Wait so anything?" you backtracked, a random idea popping in your head.

He eyed you under his bangs, "Yeah?"

"So like," Tamaki stood up straight to look at you, resting his hands on the edge of the sink, waiting for you to spill whatever you were plotting, "If we kissed?"

He shook his head, "I don't think so, I'd need more than just spit. Plus I wouldn't be able to ingest enough."

The way he was answering seriously made you want to laugh, "but you've never tried?"

"Obviously," he sassed.

"Want to?"

He blinked at you for a moment, "Make out?"

"Yeah, so you can try it."

"I don't think it'll work-"

"You could always just eat me out and find out what happens that way," you spoke bluntly, not a thought behind it.

"I- what?" he stood up completely straight, no longer leaning on the counter. Face completely red.

You laughed at his reaction, "I didn't mean to say that aloud. Yet it could work."

He's never eaten you out before. So far your relationship was just making out, grinding, and hand jobs.

"Do- do you want me to?" he shifted his footing, eyes looking you up and down.

Your humor ran dry at the idea, "I mean- yeah. To test the theory."

"Sure," he rolled his eyes, moving to stand between your legs, crowding you on the counter.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

Likely the sloppiest kiss the two of you've shared.

Mouths parting open quickly, hardly warming into the action. As if the idea of eating you out got the both of you excited.

Breath ran out quickly, you gasping and pulling away for a breather, "so?"

"Huh?"

"Anything?"

"No- I don't think it works like that-"

You slouched in disappointment, "lame." You shifted to hop off the counter.

"What are you doing?" Tamaki grabbed at your hip, stilling you.

"I'm getting down? Might as well watch a movie before it's too late."

He blinked at you, "Did you seriously think the only reason I'd-um- eat you out is cause of a theory?"

"Well, I was joking," you blushed, "You don't have to."

"I want to," he kneaded at your hips.

"Oh," you muttered, shocked for no huge reason.

"Can I?"

You nodded dumbly.

Getting pressed into another passionate kiss. His hands pulling you into him slowly. Getting your hips to hit his. Shocking you with how he was already hard, likely more into this than you are.

He always seemed more focused on you during these moments than himself. And when you did light attention on him, he struggled, staying stuck in his head. But when it was you, he was fine. Likely throwing himself into the moment as he did during hero work.

Yet unlike hero work, he was kissing down your neck, pushing you backward to lay flat on the counter. His movements were slow and planned out, yet to you it rushed from 0 to 100 real quick.

His fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts and panties, peeling them off you easily with how you were laying. Leg crossed round his back, ass hanging off the counter, and back laid flat. Only arching into him when you felt his hands move to circle your clit.

"Oh my god," you moved your arms to rest on your elbows, watching the show he was giving you.

He moved his arms to hook under your legs, crouching down so he could be face-to-face with you.

The quick look up he gave you, a look for consent, had you pleading, "Please." You reached a hand out to cup his cheek. Letting him lean into your touch before he made his own move, your hand going to tangle in his hair.

Feeling a puff of warm air on your clit before your shut your eyes closed. Shivering at the feeling of the tip of his tongue circling your clit.

He surprised you each day with the things he did, especially in this category. He'd fumble for maybe a minute, but the second you gasped, he followed it. Taking every twitch into notes to work you up incredibly quick.

Lapping at your slit softly before sucking your clit slightly. Even moaning into you.

"Tama," you said breathlessly, pulling his hair and him closer.

His hands squeezing at your thighs, helping them close around his head as you softly rocked into him, gasping at each heavy lick into you.

How sloppy he was being was shocking, leaving your mouth open as you tried to catch up with the feeling.

Feeling like it was too far away to catch, too close to your peak before he made you crash right back down, and hard. The lights in the room going white as you felt like you've discovered a new type of light.

His hands kneading at your thighs and sides when he stood back up, trying to help you calm back down. Leaving you to blink yourself awake before smiling blissfully.

"Oh my god," you laughed breathlessly, "I've never came that quick." Tamaki gave you a shy smile before you continued, "I'm shocked."

He shrugged, "I expected it, with how you-um- like getting touched- you know."

"How I like getting fingered?"

"Yeah- that," he looked away.

"Damn," you went limp into the counter, "Still, didn't know it'd be that good. You need to try it."

"Huh?"

You blushed from having to say it, "Like, you need to let me give you head. Mind-blowing experience."

His face turned bright red as he handed you your shorts. "My quirk doesn't work, by the way," he switched topics.

Grabbing the shorts from him and slipping them on, you looked at him weirdly, "What?"

"From- um- eating you out? You wanted to test it but it doesn't work."

"Oh," you blinked, "I forgot about that."

The two of you moved on from that conversation quickly. It was obvious he wasn't ready to take another step on his side, and that was okay. You'd get there when you get there.

On a different note.

He was progressing in his comfort with other things more.

Sitting closer to you in public, letting his eyes rest on you more, and engaging in conversation with you in public normally as well.

There was hardly any change in his personality from public to private with you anymore.

He stayed consistent and it helped the relationship grow a lot more.

Being able to actually talk with him in your own home was a comfort as well. It eased the stress of it all.

You could care less who found out at this point. Tamaki was the highest priority for you after a year of dating.  He was your first everything and maybe it was dumb, but you hoped he was your last.

The relationship was so comfortable.

And he showed signs he felt just the same.

Having gone in a slight couple's costumes for Halloween with you. Ignoring the questions raised.

Unfortunately, your costume had an incredibly short skirt. So when you leaned off your chair to grab something from the coffee table in front of you, your skirt lifted. Giving Tamaki and the other guy leaning back in the chair a clear view of your panties. So without a thought, Tamaki moved his hand to pull your skirt down, settling for blocking the view with his hand when he couldn't get your skirt down without embarrassing you further.

All acts innocent before you went to go sit down, having Tamaki's hand grab your ass before quickly returning to his lap. Giving him a short look before sitting down, patting his thigh in thanks once you realize what happened, and then acting as if nothing happened despite Tamaki's clear blush.

When you tried to get back to a normal conversation, Mirio just kept giving you an odd look. "What?" you finally spat out in his direction.

"Don't you think it's a little weird how close you guys are?" Mirio crossed his arms as he looked at you.

"So?"

"Tamaki hardly flinched when he touched you, or when you touched him."

"And?" you asked again.

"For people in a relationship? Neither of you've met each other's partner either," Mirio pointed a finger between you two as if scolding, "Kind of disrespectful."

Not wanting to seem like anything was done in bad faith, you blurted without much thought, "I've met his girlfriend."

"What?" Mirio drops all expression, looking at Tamaki as if he'd betrayed him.

Tamaki tensed fully, sitting up straight and shooting you a glare, "It was an accident."

"Oh," Mirio's expression calmed.

"I wouldn't want her to meet her," Tamaki spoke harshly as he rushed to comfort his friend, stabbing at you in response.

Mirio looked at you, "I think we should head home." The fact that he was able to see you were upset before your boyfriend did, hurt. Especially when it was his words.

All Tamaki does is nod his head before rushing out.

You motion for Mirio to wait, following Tamaki briefly, "Hey."

"Why'd you say that?" Tamaki looks at you with panicked eyes when you turned around.

"What?" you looked at him confused.

"I care so much about that friendship and you could have ruined it," Tamaki stressed.

"What?" you repeated voice fragile at his words and the meaning behind them, "What about me? Why'd you say you'd never want me to meet them? In that tone."

Tamaki gives you a confused look, "I don't know if you- us- we are permanent. It's new, I've been friends with Mirio since forever."

"It's new?" you questioned, crossing your arms and shifting your stance. Taken aback by how he viewed things.

"Yes?"

"It's been a year in 2 weeks," you pointed out, helpless.

"So?"

You took a sigh, trying to figure out how to word the rest before getting interrupted by Mirio.

"Hey," Mirio eyed the tension between the two of you, "We should get home."

"Agreed," you nodded, turning to walk away from the conversation and to the car.

Letting the night melt away as Mirio drove home in silence.

It was painful to look at the rain hitting the windows of the car, trying not to think of the night you shared I love yous. Trying not to focus on how Tamaki said your relationship wasn't a permanent thing, not in his eyes. His priorities were clearly different, but you had to keep the tears back so you didn't make Mirio think anymore happened.

Anything for Tamaki, you huffed back the emotion.

---

Part 2

[astraystayyh]

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ��Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.3 - Alpha & Omega

Yeji x Male Reader (ft. Kazuha)

Good news. None.   

Bad news. Where do you even start?   

The worst would be the fact that you can't feel your body. Your eyes seem to be the only functioning organ. To add insult to injury, your whole body is bare, and your clothes are nowhere to be found. You curse yourself for not grabbing your clothes before you get teleported back from that boxing ring. No use regretting it now. Even if you manage to move your limbs somehow, you are trapped in a bar restroom butt naked. Can this day get even worse?   

To be honest, you expect yourself to develop some kind of resistance to all those headaches and pain after passing out four times in a day. Seems like there's no improvement. You can just hope no one comes knocking at the door. That leads you to wonder, how long have you been gone? The first time you encounter Rei or what seems to be Rei, it takes almost an hour. But at least she obeys every command you give so it isn't much of a struggle. The second time, however, you have to wrestle with Eunbi first before you finally tame her, as the quest had said. You are certain more than an hour has flown by.    

Your phone chimes with a notification nearby. No doubt from the 'Ero' app. You desperately want to check it but there's not much you can do when your body feels like a lump of clay. So, you continue doing what you initially were, staring at the ceiling. Funny enough, seeing the ceiling has become a kind of relief after losing and gaining consciousness multiple times. At least, it reminds you that you are alive.  

Once again, you can't help but think of all the unanswered questions that have piled up even more after your encounter with Eunbi. The voice that consistently keeps praising you after you complete a quest, the idols that you have met who are not actually idols. You are pretty sure about that now. Are they replicas? clones? Then what does that make you? A test subject for some crazy experiment that involve fucking idol clones? As usual, no answer.  

If you look at it from the bright side, ignoring all the pain and confusion, you have used two idols for your release already. Getting to fuck one idol should be considered universally lucky. But two? You had to save a nation in your past life for that. Whether they are real or not, they still look exactly the same so it doesn't really make a difference. However, the downside shouldn't be ignored either. If you try to complete one more quest, fuck one more idol, you might not wake up again. With each jump, your body seems to weaken. It starts with headaches and soreness and now you are paralyzed. Not really a price worth paying. You are not perverted enough to trade your life for sex.  

Actually, you might have passed that point already. If you inevitably have to die, you want to go out with honor. Not as a naked corpse in a restroom. "Oh, how did he die?" "I don't know, probably from jerking off naked in the toilet" Yep. Not a good idea.   

A few minutes pass and you start considering screaming for help. You have to sacrifice every bit of dignity you have but at least you won't die. Thankfully, it doesn't happen. Blood starts to flow again in your fingers and soon, you are well aware of the cold floor on your skin.   

You sit up groggily, propping yourself against the toilet for support. Taking a few deep breaths, you picked up the phone. The screen is full of cracks, it covers almost every part of the notification on your lock screen but without a doubt, it's from the 'Ero' app.   

"Congrats on completing your second quest. Please wait patiently for the next one"  

Typical. Just congratulations. Not to mention you nearly got killed. Thank you very much.   

Then your eyes move to the upper corner of the screen displaying the time, 8:48. You can't be sure, but you are certain no more than a few minutes have passed since you passed out. How is it possible? Even without the time you spent laying paralyzed, it takes at least an hour to do everything you have done with Eunbi. No wonder no one comes looking for you.   

Maybe time flows differently in whatever places you get teleported to. Another mystery. Your head starts throbbing, a sign of an oncoming headache. God, can that app let you off for once? There's a silver lining though. Your clothes lie in a pile in a corner. You have to shut your mouth before you start screaming with joy.   

After changing hastily and washing your face, you exit the room. Russell and the rest of the crew are still at their table, their voices getting louder by the second. The effects of all the drinks they had had are evident on their red puffy faces. They don't even seem to notice your absence except Russell, who raises his hand at the sight of you.  

"Man, you have been gone pretty long, you ok?" he asks.  

"Yeah, I'm fine.."  

"You sure? You look like you just woke up"  

He's not wrong but no use making him worried.  

"Trust me. I'm ok. Just a bit tired, i guess"  

"Have you been working late again?"  

Gosh, this guy cares about you more than your mom. You take this as your chance to get out of here.  

"Yeah, got some articles to finish. I have been procrastinating on this one I have to send tomorrow. Mind if I leave early? I need to sleep early"  

"Of course. Don't work too hard, huh? You still have to write a best-seller remember?"  

You simply smile and leave, grabbing your coat. The cold breeze offers you some comfort to the headache that's becoming unbearable. You just want to lay down on the spot and fall asleep. You walk back to your room, trying not to pass out on the way. The night is still young, and the sound of traffic and the chatter of people follows you everywhere. Ordinary people enjoying their lives unlike you, who have become a different person in just a day. You were a writer, not a good one but still an average Joe. Now, you fuck idols with the help of an app. Anyone who hear it will suggest you talk to a therapist, and you won't blame them.   

And what is it that makes the app choose you? You have no special abilities other than the fact that you can mimic animal sounds and that's not even a real talent. Perhaps luck has finally found its way to your ever unfortunate life. But can it be called luck with how you become a step closer to death with each quest you take on. 

You are so busy debating with yourself you are completely oblivious to your surroundings. If only you have turned your head to an alley across the street, you would have seen a dark figure with sparkling eyes that follow every one of your movements. A predator lurking in the shadows. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

A week has passed. The 'Ero' app is silent as ever. 

You find yourself expecting a message for another quest despite promising yourself you won't let your perversion lead you to your demise. You should really start thinking with your brain rather than your dick. 

Three days after your last quest, you even try to enter the 'Ero' app out of curiosity. The app closes automatically. After a few more tries, you give up out of disappointment and shame. Shame for trying to enter the app even after knowing the risks. Shame for being a hopeless pervert. 

You should just stick to jerking off to fancams and pictures, at least that way you won't be playing with your life or getting beat up by an idol. That's what you have been doing since you got smitten by those kpop girls but after the quests you have done, it becomes tedious. You will still pump a load or two after seeing Karina's tits or Sohee's ass but it's nothing compared to Rei's blowjob or Eunbi's titjob. You have become addicted.  

Ironically, you even find yourself dreaming of the darkness, the mahogany room and the boxing ring. This is what Eve might have felt when she's told not to eat the forbidden fruit, you think. Because forbidden things are the most tempting.  

You still write but no longer out of pleasure, just to survive. And that reminds you, you should stop eating take outs and cook something yourself for once. Your room was a mess but now it's a whole trash pile. Plastic boxes and cups from all the take outs you order lie in a mountain at the sink. The trash car comes, you are just too lazy to throw it out. And if you don't do something about that stack of papers on the table, it's gonna touch the ceiling soon.  

In short, you have become a mess. Every time your phone chimes, you would check it in a heartbeat, expecting a text from the 'Ero' app. But of course, it isn't. The app has gone ghost quiet. You are desperately seeking to complete just one more quest. One more idol to fuck. 

You rarely go outside and ignore all the messages your friends and colleagues sent you. There's only one message you want to receive which never comes. 

After a week of living like a vampire, a realization hits you. One so obvious you feel like an idiot not thinking about it sooner. All the problems you are facing are rooted from one single thing, the 'Ero' app. If you delete it, your suffering might end. You can even pretend everything that happened was a dream. 

So, you get out of the bed which you have been laying on for hours and grab your phone on the table. The sudden burst of light in the dark room as the screen opens leaves you seeing black spots. It is nighttime but you haven't opened your curtains in a while, so it doesn't really make a difference.  

You swipe till you land on the 'Ero' app. That little black heart icon. You press on it and the uninstall option pops off. 'Finally' you think. 'It's gonna be over. No more crazy stuffs' though a small voice somewhere in your mind keep insisting. 'But what of the pleasure that rivals no other? What of the idols you will meet?' 'Fuck this' you answer. It's true you are a pervert, but you are not hopeless. You won't die so that you can fuck some clone of an idol.  

Determined, you raise your thumb and nearly press on the uninstall button until-  

Your phone chimes. A notification on the top of the screen.  

"New quest ready, ready for your next adventure chosen one?" 

God damn it. Just when you are determined, this app has to come and ruin it. All the walls you have put up about not being a hopeless pervert crumbles in milliseconds. You want this after all. You don't want the app gone. You are just mas that it won't give you a quest. Now what you have been begging for a week is right in front of your eyes. You have to make a choice. Yes or No? 

This quest can be your last. A punishment for letting your dick makes your decisions. You can ignore it. Delete the app and go on with your life as normal. But will your life ever be normal after deleting the app? Who can say you won't be wondering what the third quest would be and which idol you would meet? And worst of all, you will become ordinary again without the app. No more magic portals to creepy rooms.  

You don't want to be ordinary. You have tried your best to become something others aren't all your life. Now, the chance has been presented to you. Your own personal paradise. All yours. No one else's.  

So, you tap on the message, opening the app to the loading screen with the black heart. Even the sight of it gets excitement creeping up your legs already. Then you close your eyes immediately before they get torched by that blinding flash. After waiting for a minute just to be safe, you open your eyes again. A text box sits in the center of the screen, instructions to your next quest. Except that you can't read them. 

The words are fuzzy and blurred. Some even completely redacted by black lines. It is as though someone has made them unreadable on purpose. What the hell is going on? 

This can be another challenge, a harder quest. Even more difficult than trying to defeat an idol who nearly crashes you to pulp. A higher risk of death. A tinge of regret starts to overwhelm you but it's too late. 

The all-familiar darkness envelopes you once again. Then comes the icy cold spike that tears through your organs. Your vision fades and you crumple like paper. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎  

Your old friend accompanies your wake. Of course, it's the headache. Fortunately, it isn't as strong as before or maybe you have just been out of touch you forget the pain. Nevertheless, you are alive.  

You don't get to celebrate much though because the sight that greets you when you open your eyes sucks the joy right out of your heart. It isn't the ceiling this time. At least seeing the ceiling would have been a comfort. What you see is anything but comforting. 

To start, you are not in a room like you were the last two quests. You are surrounded by marble columns that support the circular dome on top. A temple like those in Greek times. A huge part of the building has crumbled, giving you a clear view of what lies ahead.  

Your heart leaps. Before your eyes lies what you can only describe as an apocalyptic city. Actually, an apocalyptic Greek city. Smoke billows from several temples writhed in flames. Most of the bronze and marble statues lining the sandy paths are missing a body part, some have been completely destroyed. A colosseum crumbles to dust right in front of your eyes though you have no idea what a Roman structure is doing in a Greek city. It would have been a beautiful place if it's not for the fact that it looks like a war zone.  

The temple you are in is not holding out really well either. From time to time, debris would fall from the ceiling, and you can only hope the roof won't collapse on top of you. You try to move and that's when you realize you have been tied up. Looking down, you find yourself bound to a chair with metal chains, your hands at the back. Your legs are no exception either. They have been tied up as well. 

This quest is starting to look hopeless already. It would be so easy for someone to gut you right now and you can do nothing but watch. You could call out for help except that there isn't a living being in sight. Even if someone does come, you can't be certain if they are friends or foes. 

You remember the surge of strength that has come to you when you were at the brink of death. It would be really really helpful if you could get that kind of help right now. Though you doubt that kind of chance will be given twice. 

"Oh, he can't help you this time" As if reading your thoughts, a voice rings out behind a column.  

The owner of the voice emerges. A figure with fiery red hair wearing a top of matching color. The black jeans accentuate her slender legs. Her ruby red eyes fixed on you with a steely gaze. Yeji, the leader of Itzy. 

"Ehm....Yeji?" Obviously, the idol before you is not the real Yeji. But you ask anyway. 

"In a sense" She replies. "But that won't matter anymore after I kill you" 

Just wonderful. Another idol who wants you dead.  

"I gotta praise you though. You are pretty strong compared to those before you" 

"Others? What are you talking about?" 

"Oh, do you think you are the only one chosen by the app, chosen one?" She strains the last part just to sound sarcastic.  

"Look, I don't even understand what's happening much less answer your questions. I don't even know why you want to kill me" 

"Oh, you very much do" She snaps back. "Rei? Eunbi? The things you did to them. You are lucky I let you live this long" 

"I was just doing what the app told me to" 

"Oh, yes. That stupid 'Ero' app. You love it so much you walked right into my trap" 

The realization hits you like a bucket of cold water. The quest that arrives right when the app is nearly deleted. The distorted letters.  

"It's you" You say. "You are the one who set up this quest" 

"Correct" Her voice is dripping with glee. "Aren't I clever?" 

"Ok, Yeji....or whatever. If you let me go, I promise I won't-" 

"Oh, shut up. You will follow where your dick leads you" 

She's not wrong. Still, it sort of hurts. 

"There's nothing you will get out of killing me" You try the other route. 

"Oh, there's a lot I can get out of killing you" Yeji muses, walking closer. "And I will start by destroying the thing that have been distracting my kind" 

You don't know what she means but you don't need to wonder for long because with the flick of her wrist, your shorts come off. Look, you know some guys are really into the bondage stuff when the girl ties you up and all, but it isn't much fun when your partner is trying to kill you. But there's a bigger threat than getting killed right now. 

"Wait, you don't mean my-"  

"Dick? Yes. If it's gone, you can no longer bother us, right?" 

"You can't do that! It's illegal" 

"Look around you. You are no longer on earth" 

You are making empty threats, and you know it too well. But you don't want your bloodline to end with you. 

"Look, maybe we can make a deal or something" 

"Too late" Yeji unfolds her palm and a gladius, a roman sword, manifests out of thin air. She's definitely not human. 

You tilt your head in panic as the point hovers over your throat.  

"I should have just killed you but where's the fun in that?" 

Your breath hitches. You don't trust yourself to talk without blabbering out more pleas that will make Yeji even madder. And even worse, your dick is rock hard because of the adrenaline.  

"Bye bye" She raises the sword and brings it down on your springing mamba. You close your eyes. bracing yourself for the pain. But it never comes because a voice cuts through the tense atmosphere.  

"Wait!" Another female voice and running footsteps. You open your eyes. 

Behind Yeji is Kazuha, the japanese member of Le Sserafim. Her pink satin dresses look out of place among the ruins of the city, like a runaway bride.  

"Kazuha?" Yeji lowers the gladius. "Oh, let me guess. He sent you" 

"You need to stop this. Killing him won't stop our problems" 

"You don't know that for sure. One less candidate means less chance for the mark to emerge" 

"What mark?" instantly, you regret not keeping your mouth shut. They want to cut your dick off for christ's sake. 

"The mark of-" Kazuha starts to answer but Yeji cuts her off.  

"Shut up" Yeji snaps. "He's going to die anyway" 

"Stop this, Yeji. He's going to be so mad if he finds out" 

"So what? He has been a dick all those times. You still take orders from him?" 

"He can be crazy sometimes but it's our job to serve him" 

"Bullshit. You are just too scared to disobey" 

"Yeji, please" 

Kazuha's words have no effect. Yeji closes in on you again and raises her gladius. This time there's no escape for you.  

Then the strangest thing happens. A burst of energy erupts from your core, spreading to every cell in your body. All the fatigue and panic are gone. It's like being dipped in water when you are high. You feel pumped, ready to do anything. More specifically, ready to fuck anyone because the lust inside you has never been so strong. 

"It can't be..." Yeji backs away, dropping her gladius. Her face that of pure horror. 

You look down and nearly scream yourself. On your pelvis is an upside-down pentagram, like those used in cult rituals and its glowing red hot though you don't feel any pain. Further down is an even stranger sight. Your dick is literally glowing. Upon taking a closer look, you realize it’s surrounded by a golden aura like it's something powerful. All the chains binding you shatter to pieces, and you rise.  

"The mark" Kazuha mutters dreamily. "It's real" 

"No!" Yeji screams, falling down. "It's a myth. How could it be-" She picks up her gladius and instantly charges. You back away but there isn't a need. Because Yeji got thrown away as though hit by an invisible force. 

She crouches on the floor, panting. "This is madness" 

Kazuha just stands there frozen. Hey eyes fixed on your glowing cock. 

But you only have a single objective in your mind. Ruin Yeji. Use her. Punish her. She is nothing but an easy prey.  

"Stay away" Yeji shouts. In the end, the hunter has become the hunted. 

You close in, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up. Then you slam her onto a column. You don't intend to hurt her though. She's in for something much worse.  

"I will kill you" She mutters but the panic is clear as day in the way her words stutter. Grabbing her waist, you trace your lips across the pulsing veins of her neck all the way to her jaw. Then a bite on her earlobe. Yeji squirms. 

"Still want to kill me?" The question is left unanswered as Yeji's lips part to give way to your tongue, which invades into her oral opening. Yeji's pupils widen when her own tongue got tickled by the foreign one. Her screams come out muffled. Yeji tries to pull away but the grip of your lips on hers is stronger than ever.  

All the while, your hands make their way down to her waist belt, enjoying the feeling of her firm skin. Sliding down further, you slip into her jeans, squeezing that tone ass of hers.  

The writhing of her body is cut short when you slid a finger into her tight asshole, which makes her limp like a rug doll. At first, it's hard to move much with how hard her hole grips you but after a few pumps, it starts to oblige, allowing swifter movements.  

As you finger her asshole, you don't stop the mouth action either. You can no longer tell whose mouth is moister as your saliva got mixed from how long you have been tasting her. All that matters is you keep her mouth shut. The strands of red hair fall over, obscuring your vision partly but you press on, taking in her taste each and every second. Your dick is pressed flat against her tummy in this position and it's getting you even more riled up. You can take care of it later. 

With your unoccupied hand, you squeeze her soft cheeks, which fold like rubber under your touch. The pace of your finger that keeps fucking her asshole remains unwavering. In fact, its pounding her now the same way your cock would. At the same time, you are tongue fucking her. Both of her holes are stuffed and there's nothing she can do about it except produces more degraded sounds. 

Yeji's legs start to shake, inevitably nearing her peak whether she likes it or not. Saliva drips from the corner of her lips and a strand of the remnants connect your lips as your tongue exits her mouth. You are not letting her off. You just want to hear her moan. 

"I...will kill you..." Her voice comes out husky, so it sounds more like an empty promise than a threat. 

"Just shut up and cum bitch" Your thrusts become forceful. Perhaps you are hurting her but Yeji's moaning too much to care. Unable to resist the sight of her skin, you bite down on her neck, pitching up her voice.  

Finally, Yeji breaks. In a frenzy of pain and bliss, she lets out a carnal groan which rings out through the temple. Juice gush out from her pussy when your finger thrust in one last time. Each time her body convulses, she lets out a moan, each one louder than the last. She is still trembling nonstop even after you pull out, her jeans stained with her own bodily fluid. 

"Did you just come from getting your asshole fingered?" You ask. Yeji can only pant as she props against a column not to tremble from her legs that are on the verge of giving out. 

From the corner of your eyes, you can see Kazuha, her arms folded, watching the whole thing without a single word. She seems to be on your side for now. 

"Tired already?" You ask Yeji. "It's just starting" 

The mark on your pelvis glows brighter, the red rays casting a translucent glow on Yeji. With an iron grip on her shoulders, you turn her around, allowing you the view of her round ass in tight jeans. The stain on her crotch area makes the scene even more lewd. 

"Admit it, Yeji. All this time you have been a slut. My cock is all it takes to wipe that bitchy look off your face" Your cock presses against her clothed ass. 

"I swear I will kill-" 

You pull down her jeans just enough to expose her round butt, stealing the air right out of her lungs. Your palm connects with her supple flesh in a harsh spank, leaving a handprint in red. You deliver a strike for each word that leaves her mouth. It goes like this. 

"I-" 

Spank 

"will-" 

Spank 

"kill-" 

Spank 

"you-" 

The white canvas of her skin is now streaked with scarlet stripes. And you intend to keep it that way because the way her ass jiggle with each spank is too hypnotic to get tired of. The cherry on the top is how she keeps protesting even through the stinging pain. But you are gonna change it real soon. 

With one last strike, you pull back, admiring your handiwork on her ass, which is now the same fiery shade as her hair and tops. Yeji mutters another curse through shallow breath. This bitch is still as cocky as ever. 

Pulling her hair to tilt her head, you whisper into her ear. "Still resisitng, hmm? Should we move on to your next punishment?" Yeji's eyes blaze with fury. "Bastard"  

"So, we are doing it the rough way" You hold her throat in a tight grip with your other hand, restricting any more words from coming out of her vocal cords.  

You rest your rock hard cock between her cheeks, the glow it radiates merging with her reddened buttocks. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out now. And then I wanna know if you still want me dead"  

Yeji can do nothing as you enter her moist slit with one forceful thrust that ripples her cheeks. You don't know if she's a virgin or not but the way her walls hug you tight is giving you ideas. Nevertheless, you push on, breaking through the barriers of her fold with each thrust. It doesn't take much time for you to pound her freely with how wet she already is from earlier. 

Soon, you are hammering her cunt without a care in the world, solely focused on using her as your vessel for pleasure. You will take anything her body can offer and that will be her punishment, to become nothing but your cumdump. Resentment and triumph take over your movements and each thrust leaves her even more breathless despite being choked. 

You loosen your grip on her neck just enough for her to make audible sounds. "Still hate me?" You ask as you pull back all the way and thrust into her slit with all your force. She tenses, her back arched. She answers your question with animalistic sounds only a whore would make. 

"Hmm, you still got a lot to learn" You slip your hands under her top, reaching for her mounds. Yeji's tits aren't qualified to be called huge, but they are still big enough to fill your palm as you knead them. When you twirl her rosy nipples between your index and thumb, she mewls like an animal in heat which is only natural with the way she's getting bred. 

You slow down your thrusts, moving in and out slowly to enjoy the full feeling of her slick velvety walls that trace every inch you fill her up with. Somewhere far away, another building collapsed with a sickening crunching sound. A wave of hot air grazes your skin. But they can do nothing to disturb you from claiming Yeji's cunt thoroughly.  

Her walls start to contrast around you, the sign of an oncoming climax. You thrust with inhuman speed, empowered by the mark, as Yeji had called it. Jolts of energy course through your veins at every moment and you are surprised to find that you are not even sweating, much less tired. You can breed Yeji all day if she isn't already worn out and used up. 

Yeji's eyes roll up, her tongue hanging out in the perfect replication of the ahaego faces you see so often in certain animes. Another flood of her nectar pours out, coating your shaft. You keep fucking through her orgasm, chasing your own high. Yeji's body twists and bends but you keep her in position by wrapping your arms around her waist.  

The friction over her slick walls becomes unbearable and soon you are pumping jets after jets of your fertile seeds into her womb, all the way to the hilt. If Yeji sounds animalistic before, now she's no different from an animal. Guttural sounds betray her lips as she gets filled up to the depths she never knows existed before. When your orgasm subsides, she becomes motionless, her hoarse breaths the only sign of life. 

You pull out and cum drips out of her hole which is clenching onto air as if it needs something stuffed inside. Her punishment is a success. Yeji's got destroyed by the very thing that she wanted to destroy. As you stand there, grinning with victory, the adrenaline starts to drain out of your body. Your legs become sore, and the fucking headache is starting again. The mark on your pelvis dims and fades along with the glow of your spent rod.  

"We need to leave" You are so caught up in the joy of dominating Yeji, you forget Kazuha exists. She's still at her old spot, watching you with interest and a slither of worry. You quickly pull up your shorts though there's no point being shy now. She has seen everything. 

"Leave where?" You ask. "My quest is completed right? I will just pass out and go back" 

"It's not happening this time. He wants to meet you" 

"He?" 

"Look, we don't have much time. He will explain everything to you. I promise" 

"But-" 

The temple rumbles. More debris and dust fall from above.  

"Alright. Good idea" You and Kazuha make it outside just in time before the whole temple collapses. The sound of explosions and crumbling buildings ring out all around you. The air burns your lungs with each breath. 

"Ok, hold my hand" Kazuha says and you oblige. There's no point arguing when you are in the middle of an apocalypse. As Kazuha closes her eyes, a gleaming orb surrounds both of you and you spiral down into a tunnel of light. 

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Have been procrastinating on this. Anyway, enjoy~)

[ashherahh]

their thoughts about you

Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.

tarot masterlist • rules + tags • paid services

This reading is channelled in first person because ya know, it's their thoughts hehe ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖ᯓᡣ𐭩˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

pile 1

You opened up my world and challenged everything I had once thought was true. I should hate you but how could I hate someone who saved me from myself?

I spent my life believing in things that were so...wrong. How were you able to see more to me? I couldn't see more to myself, I couldn't see how twisted everything was. So far removed from the reality of things, so twisted up in vines of falsities. How were you able to see me?

I'm so grateful each and every day that you were annoyed enough with me to challenge me, to debate with me, to change me with each word you spoke. You planted seeds in me and now I blossom as an open field of flowers. A ridiculous analogy but that's how I feel. I feel free to have thoughts of my own, to feel my emotions instead of being drowned by them.

I am accepted by you. I have been renewed through your passions and your convictions. You desire to always see more in others. I would... I would like to be with you. To be someone you would be proud to stand next to, as equals.

Part of me feels like you will always be the one having to help me better. If I were to be with you, what would I add to your life? What could I offer you when you have done so much for me?

I do not for a second believe that you don't need as others do. You are flesh and blood like me. I want to know you. Your desires, your fears, your hopes and dreams. I want to listen to you.

I feel deeply for you, but if I've learnt anything from you is that I can't think only of myself. I am not an island and I shouldn't project my desires onto you. At times, you feel so far away. A shooting star and I am desperate to catch a glimpse of you.

pile 2

Do you remember me? Do you think of me? Do you remember our words whispered in the dark?

It's been so long since I've held your hand, since you smiled your secret smile at me. We used to share so much before I become an arse.

I wonder what you're doing right now. I wonder who you're with. I wonder if my words haunt you as they haunt me, ringing throughout my chest and in my mind as I sleep. I hurt you, someone so important to me. I would blame it on my youth, say that I was emotional and temperamental and I didn't mean it but it would feel like an insult to say that. To simply disregard the effects of my actions by blaming it on my youth.

You are so careful with your words, so careful with how you speak. It took me a long time to mean what I say like you do. I live with regret.

Instead of cherishing you, I was so careless with my words and my actions. I was an idiot to always see you as my constant companion, who would handle anything I dish out. We've known each other for years, but never once did it cross my mind that you might outgrow me. Never once did it cross my mind that I could become someone you would never want to see again.

If I got another chance with you, I want to make you happy. You had done nothing to deserve the past pain I had caused. Another part of me feels like I deserve to be without you and that you deserve someone else. Someone who will be able to cherish you in all phases of their life.

We might never be together again but you are my first love, and I'll carry you with me wherever I go.

pile 3

I have made my decision and I will come to you. I'm no longer confused or trying to figure myself out. Which wasn't really figuring myself out but actually, I was running away from my feelings.

I didn't know what to do with how I felt about you. It was so much, where was I supposed to put it? I never believed in stuff like that, in grand romances. I never thought that I would ever feel that way about anyone, I didn't recognise it at first. I didn't know what it was. It was just a lot.

To see you and feel that much, and so intensely, and having never conceived of something like that? I ran. I ran to a different city. I ran to a different country. I ran to a different person. I know I left you.

It was strange to me, how you understood what this was and I didn't. How you could feel my presence, read my moods. I was an open book to you from day one. Baby, I barely knew you and you knew so much about me. Frankly, it was fucking scary.

I'm not someone who puts their feelings into words but you made me contemplate and shit. This was new and scary.

I'm not a fearful person but I fear not having you in my life now. I don't just want you because I recognise what I've been feeling now, but now I know what you will be to me. I won't run away again.

We'll feel this, together. I'll stick with you. I want you to be mine. I sound like such a selfish, lukewarm bitch but I want you to be mine. I know you want that too.

I know that you feel this connection, and I will do everything I can do protect your feelings. Even if I have to do it from a distance. But I will never stop wanting you.

[harrysmimi]

I Will Always Love You

Synopsis: Harry tries to lighten up YN's mood

Series Masterlist | More of my work

It was Sunday. Bright and sunny morning.

Harry was the first to wake up today as it was a day off for his fiance. He knew she was already in a bad mood because of what happened yesterday, she was already off to sleep when he came back home from studio.

Now he doesn't know what exactly happened, it was a family drama she said. All he knows is that she is furious about one thing and one thing only.

So he woke up early and put together her favourite breakfast for her. Something to cheer her up the first thing in the morning. YN was still sleeping in so he decided to go wake her up.

"Hey baby, you wanna wake up?" He sat down on the edge of their bed so he can lean over and kiss her forehead. "It's already half past eleven."

"Hmm?" She sounded half asleep.

"You wanna wake up?" Harry asked again.

"Hmm!" She nodded.

"I made you breakfast, will wait for you in kitchen." He pressed another kiss on her cheek.

"Thank you!" She yawned, and hugged him tight.

"You good, my love?" He asked, caressing her back.

"I am, I am." She assured him though he isn't quite assured.

Harry let her do her thing, giving her space so she can go upto him and talk about it. He busied himself with breakfast duty.

"Good morning, baby!" He sang in a cheery tone seeing his fiancé. Her hair was damp and she had already gotten back into her pajamas.

"Morning." She smiled. Or at least tried to.

"What's wrong, darling?" He enquired finally.

"Nothing really," she shrugged and helped him take food out to the table.

"You still want to go see the new houses later on today baby?" He asked as they both sat down.

"Yeah."

"Hey, I can see something is wrong. Just tell me, please!" He pulled his chair closer to hers.

"Can we like, uhhhh, like uninvite my parents and especially my grandmother from the wedding? I, I, I just want it to be my brother, his wife and their kids." She shared. Harry could see the tears pooling up in her eyes.

"You want to tell me what happened, love?" He somehow found a way to move closer to her.

"I shouldn't have asked my mum and grandma to come along. I found a dress I liked, but she said it would look like she's going to my funeral not my wedding just 'cause it was white." Harry could see she was trying so hard not to start sobbing, her bottom lip quivered as she looked down, she is clearly so hurt by her grandma's statement.

"Hey, whatever she said must have been to spite you baby." He tried to console her, "if you don't them at our wedding we don't have to invite them, okay? I promise."

"I don't know why she hates me so much!" She sighed, "she talks bad about us too, I can't take that."

"You know, people are going to hate but we know the truth, right?" He took her hand to gesture her to sit on his lap so he can hug her, which she did. "What else did she say to get you so hurt, hmm?"

"She said why are you putting so much effort into this he's gonna leave you anyway..." And she started sobbing.

"You know you're not getting rid of me so easily, don't you?" He squeezed her tighter, "I am so sorry she said that, YN. And let me tell you, you're the best thing that's happened to me. While I know it's not going to be always rainbow and sunshine but I know we can beat the odds and just grow stronger. I don't know why she thinks I'd leave the love of my life, like ever, but what I do know is I love you and I wanna spend rest of my days with you as my partner. I love you too much!"

"I love you too!" She managed to say between her cries.

"You still want to get that white dress you love so much?" He asked.

"Mhmm."

"And you still wanna eat?"

"Yes, I am hungry." She nodded again. "I will just go wash my face."

"Yeah, you do that baby, but hurry up your food it getting cold." He placed a soft kiss on the apple of her cheek.

The rest of the morning YN spent sulking around though she did eat her food. She even took a big fat nap on the sofa while watching her favourite series on Netflix. Harry did not bother her, he in fact cancelled their appointment with the realtor and scheduled it for the next day. He is instead going to take her out dinner tonight.

Now he doesn't know if that's all that happened or did her but she made sure not to take her grandmother to the next appointment for dress shopping.

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Five.

Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.7k

Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.

Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.

A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.

It's been three months since you left home.

It's been three months since you saw Bucky.

He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.

He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.

You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.

The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.

Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.

And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.

On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.

You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"This is ridiculous."

Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.

"Good ridiculous?"

She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.

"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."

Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.

"I need these on the menu."

"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."

"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."

"Okay. Fine."

You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.

You know it's because of your Tethering.

Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.

And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.

Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.

It takes time to adjust.

No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.

For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.

For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.

Both are valid. Both are understandable.

You remind yourself of this every day.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."

The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.

"Who is it?"

"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."

Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?

You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.

You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.

He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.

"Hi."

"Hey. Are you the baker here?"

"I am."

He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.

"I'm Rafael."

You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.

"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."

You don't say anything, so he continues.

"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."

He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."

You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.

"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."

You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.

You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.

"You're really talented, you know."

"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."

His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.

"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."

"You'd do that for her?"

"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."

"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.

"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."

He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.

"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."

You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.

"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."

The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,

"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."

His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.

"You are?"

"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."

"You guys are married?"

"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."

"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"

You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.

"He's my Dad's best friend."

You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.

"Woah."

"Yeah."

"That... is complicated."

"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."

Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.

"How did your parents react?"

"They don't know yet."

His eyebrows raise almost comically high.

"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."

"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."

"Understatement of the century," he laughs.

You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.

"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."

"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."

He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.

"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."

"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"

"Sure does."

You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.

"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."

"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."

"Thanks, Rafael."

"Of course. Thank you."

"Of course."

That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."

"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."

"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"

"What kind of surprise?"

"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."

"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."

"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."

"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."

"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."

"I know," you smile. "I know."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.

You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.

You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.

You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.

You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.

You know who it is.

A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.

You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.

He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.

He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.

He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.

"You're here."

You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.

"I'm here."

Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.

"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."

He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.

"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.

"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."

"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."

"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."

"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"

He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.

"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."

You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.

"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.

"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."

"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."

"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."

"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.

"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."

"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.

He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.

"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."

"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."

"Miss you more."

He looks at you, smiling.

"Man, we're the worst."

"Truly."

He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.

It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.

There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.

"Surprise!"

You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.

"Oh my God! You guys!"

She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.

He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.

"I got you something. I hope you like it."

That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.

"Happy Birthday, Mama."

She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.

She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.

"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."

"Missed you. You look beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."

You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.

"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."

You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.

You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The night goes off without a hitch.

You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.

What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.

When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.

"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"

His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.

"I have to."

"Oh yeah?"

"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."

He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.

"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."

"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."

His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.

"One dance," you whisper.

He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.

I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.

Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"That was close!"

Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.

"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."

"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."

She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.

"Love you both."

"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"

"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"

You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.

"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."

You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.

"It's not the same here without you."

You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.

You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.

"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"

He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.

"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."

"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."

"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."

"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."

He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.

"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."

He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.

"Okay. I promise."

You whip your head around to look at him.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."

"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. I feel it."

You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.

"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.

"I have. What for?"

"The couch."

You process for a moment before it clicks.

"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."

"No?"

"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."

He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."

You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.

"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."

Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.

"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."

You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.

Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.

"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"

You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.

"Please, Buck. Anything."

"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."

He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.

"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Yeah?"

"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."

Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.

"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.

You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.

Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.

You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.

He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.

"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."

You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.

He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.

"You good?"

"So good," you grin. "Never better."

"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.

"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."

"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."

You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.

Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.

You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.

"Buck, I-"

"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."

"Need you to move, baby."

He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.

"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."

Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.

He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.

"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."

The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.

Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.

He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.

"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.

"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.

Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."

You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.

"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.

The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.

Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.

Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.

"I don't want you to go."

The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.

"I don't think I want to go."

He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.

"You have to, baby. It's your dream."

Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.

"You're my dream."

Bucky sniffles, and you continue.

"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."

You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.

"We'll be okay, my honey girl."

You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.

"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.

You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.

You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff   @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara   @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[midwestprincesss]

how did it end?

part 1 || patrick zweig x fem!reader

"you cannot love somebody into loving you"

summary: your relationship with patrick has been on and off for ages. you knew him and he knew you. you love him but he only loves you when he can get something out of it. but then, can that even be considered love?

a/n(READ THIS BITCH): random ass specific fact about the reader but she is skincare obsessed like me. acne prone girlies yk what im talking about. btw I KNOW PATRICK DOESN'T GO TO STANFORD BUT WE WILL PRETEND HE SPENDS A LOT OF TIME THERE OK. also this series will only continue if u guys give me feedback. and hype me up. cause i have no motivation. patrick girlies help me i know ur out there💪 also this first chapter is like. they're friends but pining. no angst yet oopsie

2004, stanford college.

being in love with patrick was difficult. really, really fucking difficult. it was almost like you had to put in an effort to be in love with him. nevertheless, you didn't. to you it just felt easy. you wish you could get rid of the feeling, but it doesn't seem to want to go away.

patrick zweig could be very easily described in one word: player. and by that i don't only mean tennis player.

but he was easy to love, too. if we ignore all the mixed signals he always gave you, he's actually a sweet guy.

he remembers your coffee order. he listens to your problems. he calls you to check up on you. and he takes care of you while you're out partying. and after that. and in the morning. he holds your hair and rubs your back as you puke out whatever the fuck you drank last night. he gives you his clothes. out of all the girls he knows, he gives you his clothes.

this was one of those times.

saturday morning.

you woke up with a horrible headache and with a certain curly-haired boy next to you. you try to remember what happened last night, but you give up after about three minutes of staring at the ceiling in silence. who cares, really? at least you woke up in your bed, and not on a random bench outside. not that patrick would ever let that happen.

he has the key to your dorm. he spent most of his days with you, so you figured it would be totally fine for him to have it.

you rub your eyes sleepily as you look to your left- patrick was not sleeping either.

"morning." he said, simply. you groaned in response.

"glad you asked, and you're welcome." he said sarcastically. "you got fucking wasted, like usual. i had to carry you from the party. not that you couldn't walk, but you just insisted on it. when we finally got here you threw up all over yourself. and then in the toilet, like three times, i think."

your eyes widened in disgust. you looked down at your clothes, expecting to find a now vomit-stained white dress on. to your surprise, you were wearing a dark green tee - you remember you've seen it on patrick once- and a pair of uncomfortably large boxers. you're surprised they didn't fall off while you were sleeping.

"patrick." you said, terrified. "please tell me i took my makeup off before sleeping. or at least washed my face." patrick sighed. 'blah blah blah i have sensitive skin blah blah blah i'll break out if i sleep with my makeup on' you always told him, whenever he was sleeping over.

"you didn't." he said. then went quiet for a few seconds, but just for his own amusement. he thought you looked cute when you were worried. but worried was not a big enough word for the look on your face- you were more like, mortified, maybe? so he decided to stop joking around. "i took your makeup off. i couldn't find those circular white thingies you do it with so i used a towel-"

you cut him off with a laugh. you could actually kiss him. maybe you shouldn't, though. your breath smelled like actual shit. looking to your right, at the nightstand next to your side of the bed, you noticed your earrings and necklace and rings arranged neatly next to eachother and you swore you felt your heart flutter.

you knew patrick cared about you, but you didn't think he would be so attentive. usually, you don't get so drunk, so you can actually do what you need to do by yourself. even then, he insists he should do it for you. but you always refused him, partly because you didn't want to bother him but you were also pretty convinced he would not do things properly. he proved you wrong.

"for how long have you been awake?" you ask him.

"i'm not sure whether i even slept. you kept talking on your sleep. and tossing. and turning. and stealing the blanket. i think you even slapped me once-" he started laughing as you started muttering apologies, but he immediately told you not to worry about it.

you sighed, then you both went silent. you examined his face- he really did seem tired- droopy eyes, dark eyebags, eyelids partially closed. but still smirking at you. no one and nothing could ever wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.

"you look cute." he broke the silence, letting his thumb linger on your cheek.

"i feel like shit." you snickered, hiding your face in your hands but he immediately pulled them away, kissing your knuckles.

that took you by surprise. sure, you and patrick were affectionate with eachother, but this felt way more intimate than usual. what was going on with him?

suddenly, you looked at the time. 10:30 am. you were late for breakfast. like, really late. you figured there wouldn't be anything left in the cafeteria by now.

"shit. we'll have to starve until lunch, patrick" you told him, a hint of irony in your voice.

"don't worry, i'll go get us something from the supermarket." he said as he got up, pulling a grey hoodie over his head. he took his keys and wallet then looked down lovingly at you as you still rested on the bed. "call me if you need anything else" he said , kissing your forehead then leaving. leaving your dorm, but also leaving you swooning over him.

you were in it for good.

[etheries1015]

Hello! I love the way you write! Would I be able to request the reactions of some of the twst boys to MC telling them they snore (whether it's true or not)? I think Malleus, Riddle, and Azul would have fun reactions, but anyone you feel like writing would be great! Thank you!

Thank you for the compliment heuheu... much appreciated <3

When they snore

Featuring: Malleus, Riddle, Azul, Rook, Vil

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

Malleus

The moment you told him he snores, he was concerned. Was he troubling you with his sleeping habits? Were you unhappy sleeping with the fae because of this, to the point where it was noticeable? The moment the words left your mouth, he began to word vomit.

"Is that an issue? Is my snoring preventing you from getting a night of good rest? I...Suppose I could sleep elsewhere if it will grant you a full night of sleep.." Que him going down a rabbit hole of solutions, you couldn't get a single word in. Eventually, it came time for classes to begin, to which you hadn't the chance to explain your statement to the panicked fae.

When night fell and it was time for bed, his tail swayed sadly as he stood in the doorway. "I suppose I shall sleep out here, my love," He said, as lightning of vibrant green flashed outside your window.

As he turned his back and began to sulk away, you quickly ran up behind him with a bear hug.

"Malleus, would you stop and listen to me for a second?" You laughed, "When I said you snore, I was going to tell you it was cute. Like an animal snoring lightly. You seem so at peace curled up in bed with your light snoring..."

The lightning went away as fast at it had came, and you felt his tail wrap around your waist as he turned to face you, arms pulling you close.

"Ah...ahem. I apologize for my unbecoming behavior before, then. I...was rather saddened at the thought I caused my beloved to lose well-needed sleep."

He's never been called cute before, but he's also never slept in the same bed with another person. So I suppose there's a first for everything <3

Riddle

Snores like a cat. The first time you had slept in the same room, the first thing you noticed was his high-pitched yet soft snores that were short and far between.

The morning you woke up, the first thing you said was; "Did you know you snore?" Riddle blinks at you a couple times before hitting you with his annoyed face (you know the one.)

"Snoring is perfectly normal," He told you, "It's caused by the rattling and vibration of tissues-"

You got a lecture on the scientific reasoning behind snoring. When he finished defending the nature of his sleeping habits, you finally hit him with the "You snore like a little cat! It's cute!"

His face turns as red as his hair, as always when he becomes flustered.

"W-w-wha- a cat?! How dare you compare me to a cat! I..I am not a cat..."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.." You seemed pretty guilty about upsetting him, he muttered "I suppose I'll let it go..." and moved on.

All in all, as long as you aren't losing sleep because of him, he will forgive you for your previous teasing statements. However, from that day forward, you have noticed his ears take a rosy hue with shy glances your way before he heads to bed...

Azul

"Did you know you snore? Pretty loud, too. Is that like...a merman thing?"

His face turns red IMMEDIATELY. He was so embarrassed. The first time he allows someone to be near him in such a vulnerable state, and he blows it by being a snorer. A loud one, at that.

"Snoring is not common for merfolk! Being under the sea, most don't struggle with such a thing...but I would say being above water, the air that goes through my soft palate-"

Great. Another scientific review on snoring. Only Azul, on the other hand, cannot seem to keep eye contact with you.

"Please don't tell anyone. You must sign on it!"

You spent an hour comforting poor Azul, telling him it's nothing to be ashamed of, and giving him lots of hugs and cuddles. But he still continues to insist you sign a NDA to the information you had uncovered.

He was incredibly shy about having you sleep with him again, yet you managed to convince him. Azul is much more insecure than you may think about his image, however, you always seem to break his walls down.

Although, you did notice he began to wear nose strips at night, with books on sleeping habits and potions to help with snoring...old habits truly die hard.

Give him extra cuddles for the existential crisis you had instilled in your poor octo boyfriend <3

Rook

Oh boy. You had no choice but to tell him. He snores like your average forty-year-old dad. You genuinely lose sleep over it, even waking him up

"Rook, Rook. Honey. Please. I can't sleep. Your snoring is just too much, I'm sorry."

He actually finds it kind of amusing? For some reason? He asks you excitedly to tell him more about the things he does when he's sleeping.

He didn't really take you too seriously until he noticed the physical wear and tear. The bags under your eyes...

"Mon Cheri! Your eyes...have you not been sleeping well?"

"Rook. Your snoring. It's horrendous. Please."

He spends an hour doing EVERYTHING under the sun to help his snoring, for your sake! Moving around how his bed is set up, mouth exercises, the way he sleeps...He refuses to use strips, he doesn't like how they feel, and says it prevents his senses from being at their 100%.

He finds a way to help alleviate it, and you end up investing in some sleep time headphones. You make it work, because dealing with his sleeping habits is better than sleeping without him~

Vil

"Did you know you snore?"

He stares at you with his jaw open and his eyes wide. What...what do you mean he snores when he sleeps? Does he sleep with his mouth open? Does he look utterly ridiculous when he sleeps? All of these questions he bombards you with.

"Vil! Vil. I was kidding. I'm sorry. You sleep so quietly that I have to check if you're still alive sometimes. You're like a sleeping statue of perfection."

He was not amused. He almost had a heart attack and invested in the world's most expensive treatments.

Tackles you to the bed and ruffles up your hair, laughter ensuing at your silly little prank.

"Well, it's YOU who snores, potato. You're lucky I let you sleep here and not outside like a dog," He chuckles. He says this, yet you knew he loved you too much to go a single night without you by his side.

A link to my masterlist

[deonsx]

If They Take Aphrodisiacs

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: Nsfw, Smut

Dazai Osamu

The nights you spent with your boyfriend always made you very happy. Whether it was the way he always cherished you, the gentleness and the sensual feelings he gave you... the words that made you beg him all the time, you always loved these, but have you ever thought about the possibility of him begging? Wouldn't you like it if he begged you with a sexual hunger just like you? Since you started thinking about this, the direction of your desires changed and you decided to make plans

He is an intelligent man, it is only a matter of time before he realizes what he is drinking, but since he would not expect such boldness from you, everything became simpler. You gave him a heavy aphrodisiac syrup mixed with the drink you gave him that night, and he made a grimace when he first drank it. "It was sour than I thought, shouldn't it be spoiled?" You replied, taking a sip of your own drink. "I don't think so, it's Chuuya-san's choice." You cleared the doubt in his mind by saying so. "Ahhh Chuuya?? It's definitely poisonous then"

Dazai went to sleep half an hour later because he wanted to go to bed early tonight and you couldn't escape the idea of ​​wearing something nice. You went forward wearing sensual dresses. Dazai looked very calm, which made you suspicious... When you approached him, you saw that he was sweating slightly "My love..Are you okay, it looks like you have a fever" " you spoke, placing your hand on the brunette's forehead "Ahm..I don't know, I feel weird"

You grinned slightly "Is my boy really tired today" you played with his curls and placed kisses on his forehead which made him suddenly pull away from your arms and lay on top of you "I thought you were tired Osamu" He barely smiled "Hah...I-I feel warm" you gently cupped his cheek and kissed him. holding his arms, you changed your places and now you were on top, you sat on his tent and lightly rubbed him "uhhh..Love please..I need you"

"Really darling? Let me hear you beg for more" brown eyes looked at you sharply from under their long eyelashes and then their lips let out a deep breath "I need you..I want you my love..please don't turn me away" you slowly unzipped his pants and they were already sewn. You revealed his tent

"Now I see more clearly how much you need me, my love"

Chuuya Nakahara

It was an ordinary day at work. PM days had never been this tiring. You weren't sure if it was the duties or the new blonde girl that was tiring your mind. Are you jealous of your boyfriend from that girl? But she won't betray you, you trust her... But it seems like that girl is trying to use Chuuya's kindness. It's been 2 months since that girl came, but you were bored now, something was happening every day and she was visiting your boyfriend's office, files? enemies? information? boast? she was really trying to seduce him

Every time you tried to talk about this with your boyfriend, he denied it and said that the girl was just immature and was just trying to reinforce things with questions. No matter how angry you got, you couldn't do much. Instead of focusing on these, you thought of focusing on your relationship... something that would make him listen to you, something that would make everything sprout again. well..a few drops of aphrodisiac

You changed the same boring day at work completely. Chuuya wanted his usual morning coffee in his office, but he didn't know who made the coffee. When he entered his office with a coffee in his hand, his eyes narrowed with a warm smile. "My love..Did you make coffee for me?" you nodded slightly and placed the coffee in front of his desk "It was stupid to argue with you about that girl last night dear" chuuya bowed his head slightly and took a sip of his coffee "it's okay from now on I'll make sure he doesn't come into this room that often I promise"

While you were talking, chuuya started to sweat and his breaths became faster. "It was hot.." You blinked your eyes as if you didn't know. "oh? are you sure about that..that you weren't the one who was actually hot...?" his eyes quickly found you, "Did you give me an aphrodisiac, darling, I didn't think you would do this at work" you stood up and walked towards the chair your lover was sitting on and sat on his lap "my love, you were so busy with work these days, I wanted you to give your mind to me"

you covered him with your kisses you left bruises on his neck and gently unbuttoned his shirt "You are so naughty s/o..." you giggled and just rubbed on his lap which made him moan "nghh~ don't make fun of me dear" a knock on the door stopped you both but the voice was the person you wanted to hear "Chuuya-san Can I come in?" That high pitched and affectionate girl's voice, Chuuya couldn't even answer as he was out of breath, but the girl already wanted to enter so he opened the door quickly "Chuuya-...." When you turned your head back you saw the girl's disappointed expression

"Leave me and my girlfriend alone intern"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

Your boyfriend literally doesn't have time for you and this isn't just a 1-2 week thing, it's been 2 months, he can't take his mind off his plans to beat the detective agency and his mind games with Dazai, he doesn't even look at you. You even tried to tell him this "Fyodor... I know you're on the job but "I missed you." He frowned slightly and turned his head from the computer to you. "When the time comes, I will make you forgive me for this indifference." In the second attempt, you prepared a meal for him, but he did not leave his room. In the third attempt, you fought with him and unfortunately, you argued and you tripped without taking a step back. He didn't try to forgive

Finally, one day, an idea came to your mind, you knew he would get angry with you, but you still thought it would solve the problem between you, and now you were upset with him. Normally, you were always the one to hold people back, so this time, you were going to use it. You went home, Fyodor hadn't arrived yet, you prepared a meal and put a lot of your syrup into it. , time has passed. Finally, your lover came home, his eyes looked at the already prepared dinner table, then he looked at you. "Dinner?" He knew you were upset with him, normally he wouldn't eat dinner, but this time he sat at the table for you both.

It was a quiet dinner, as you'd expect, and no sound was heard leaving him. After the meal, the usual work change went on, nothing happened yet, you didn't see any reaction, did it go wrong? Didn't it show aphrodisiac performance? Was the amount not enough? Everything was empty, you took steps towards your room and you were passing by your boyfriend's study, you stood as still as possible until the rapid breathing became louder, very light moaning sounds, it was easy to hear his sounds in the quiet house.

It was fun to listen to your voices. Only the lights were illuminating the dark room. You slowly opened the door, but I guess Fyodor didn't hear it. The voices continued in the same tone. You looked into the room with your eyes and saw your boyfriend, who had thrown his head back and grasped his dick with his hands.. He was trying to help himself.. How sad..." Does someone need my help?" purple eyes opened like they were shining in the dark and they turned directly to you "What did you put in that food...haah.." as the light moans continued he removed his hands from his cock and tried to cover himself, you directed your steps towards him "What does it matter...I just wanted you to understand your mistake dear." fyodor's eyes narrowed in disdain "I don't need any help-" you slowly sat down on your boyfriend's lap, who was sitting on the chair, and felt his cock start to get wet under his pants. "nnnghh stop it...don't make fun of me"

“If you tell me your wishes, I will not hesitate to give them all to you, my love”

Enjoy!

We are 800 people, thank you everyone for supporting what I wrote^^

[yanderestarangel]

Will there possibly be any more Tio Miguel O’Hara au???

𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ┆ 𝐓𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 - 𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘

꒰∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ ── Hi guys, I remembered I have a blog, hehe:3

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ "Before you, silence and emptiness for me were like an open, painful wound that stained my clothes a calloused, uncomfortable red. But with you, silence became just a space to be filled with your laughter and ethereal presence. My thoughts turn to you, my sweet nephew, loose and deliberate... I really shouldn't feel this way, but you don't know how much it affects me just by you being you." - 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: 𝓽𝓲𝓸 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓾𝓮𝓵.

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

➜ This AU will probably become a fic with non-linear chapters, that is, I will post in non-chronological order of the canonical events that happened. [ There will be several alt. routes and you can suggest more ideas about this AU. ]

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

★☆ Notes: This is a work of dark romance/content, please do not read if you are a sensitive person, I am not romanticizing abuse or abusive relationships, this is just fiction.

♡ ┆ TW: written in the form of a poem, corruption, step!incest, dark romance, ftm reader, abusive relationship, mourning, dumbfication, manipulation, age gap, eat out, creampie, sex without a condom, dub con, afab anatomy

You weren't so naive as to not notice your Tio's lascivious gaze on your body ─ especially when you wore short, white dresses on hot days, your skin shone with a thin layer of sweat while your curves were otherwise hidden by thicker fabrics and dense spaces were exposed to the world and the cowboy's dark eyes.

The same lips that kissed you so innocently one day, held the hot tongue that would bring your ruin filled with lust. He had a negligent look, a harsh air, he was the same man who had made you taste the fruit of forbidden desire ─ far from everything and everyone, you two did not share the innocent courtship of being just a nephew and uncle... But before for you to stop like a whore, with your legs open for someone you swore would never feel anything... It hadn't started like that.

Desire, like all things in the world, had to have an origin, guidance and explanation ── everything could have started with the cruel grief of losing the wife that Miguel loved so much, the woman's name was not even uttered by his mouth, the same painful memory of lost nights of empty promises cut by the tragic and sharp scythe of death and destiny. The tanned-skinned man spent nights questioning the direction of his life and the classic question: "why me?".

Without an answer however, he sank even deeper into his own mind, the emptiness of his home now without a wife and the future children that were idealized by both of them had not come to fruition.

A foolish, lost and purposeless man was what he was.

So, just as the devil tries to make sin, he had finally found something that filled the void that was once held in his hard and dirty soul ── you. He tried to repress these feelings, it wasn't love, it wasn't a pure and polished love, it was a corrupted feeling of possession and obsession ─ he wanted to control your life, control you and make you his forever, trap you somewhere where you would stay safe from the dangers of the dirty world where they lived; but he himself was this dirt.

Then, slowly he began to enter your life even more like a parasite implanting the dirty thoughts you would later have about him. Taking you away from your family and manipulating everything and everyone into believing that he was the best person to take care of you ─ after all, he was just a concerned Tio... Or not?

Like a waltz with the devil, it all began that hot summer night with a dance ─ without protests and murmurs of complaints you followed him to an isolated place where your family's celebration was taking place that night, the warm orange light coming from the old tile ceiling warmed your cheeks and made you blush even more under the brunette's deep gaze.

Miguel watched as you moved to the music, his gaze mesmerized by the fluidity of your movements. A soft smile graced his lips as he took in the sight before him- the youthful vigor and elegance you possessed. He couldn’t help but be drawn to you, even if it sometimes stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him.

He wasn't just your tio, was he? No more, if he ever was to begin. His large hand caressed his waist, gently but firmly gripping the fabric of your blouse soft under his touch. His thumb brushed against his back, effortlessly guiding you through the dance.

"My precious angel", he murmured, his voice practically low. "You look like a dream, like a celestial being that has somehow landed among us mortals. It makes me want to take that dream and hold on to it forever."

He brought you closer, as if he was going to devour you ─ He moved like a predator, he looked at you like a predator... He was a predator.

Tio Miguel's lips traced a burning path along the sensitive skin of your neck, each kiss leaving a trail of heat as his hands slid down and squeezed your ass possessively. His breath was hot against your skin, a mix of whiskey and desire that sent shivers down your spine. His moans were hoarse, filled with a primal hunger.

He pulled back slightly, dark eyes ablaze with lust, his gaze falling to your chest, where your breasts strained against the fabric of your blouse. The hunger in his eyes was almost palpable, tacit and obscure, there was no point in running and maybe you didn't even want to escape, it was like a tempting trap that would hurt you deliciously.

"Mi prince," he rasped, his voice rough with need. "You're so beautiful. So fuckin' beautiful."

He let out a low chuckle, the sound dark and predatory, as he grabbed your waist with one hand and pressed you against him. His hardness nudging between your legs, making you aware of his desire for you.

"Let's go somewhere more private, mi vida. It's time to show you just how much I want you." His lips crushed against yours, the intensity of your kiss staggering. His tongue thrust into your mouth, tangling with yours, the taste of whiskey and raw desire overwhelming. His hands moved with purpose, tugging at your clothes, urgently trying to rid you of any barriers between you both. He nibbled gently at your lips, pulling back to whisper against your mouth.

"Don't fight me, mi chico guapo. We both know you want this." With a low growl, he pulled you close once more, your lips crushing against his as your hands moved with purpose. His fingers expertly explored your soft body, teasing and coaxing you to the edge of pleasure. As his thumb brushed your clit, he swallowed your moans, his own desire heightened by the sacred taboo of his actions.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, my life. But I can't promise I will." Miguel said, but you both had the idea that that wasn't what was going to happen, especially when his tongue licked your pink flesh so well and made your legs tremble around his head ── his calloused and warm hands separated the flesh again softness of your thighs, making your breasts bounce and you tremble and whimper slyly for more.

Sin was good, so you two were condemned to a hell of unlimited pleasure and lust, without judgmental looks from others. Just you and your dear Tio Miguel. You moaned dirty, incoherent sentences, just looking for more friction with the other man's mouth, you were both moaning with need ─ you were both a mess of repressed desire and unthought-out consequences.

Your tio's hot tongue left your entrance, but before any scream of protest you saw him take off his pants quickly and lower them to his knees, exposing his muscular thighs and his thick cock with veins pulsing strongly, the smell of musk filled your nose as you felt the heat radiate from the older man’s member.

Uncle Miguel's cock pulsed as it passed your entrance, the swollen head teasing your clit before entering your comfortable, warm pussy. Every inch of their sensitive flesh reveled in the forbidden embrace, eagerly awaiting the moment they would finally become one. He growled softly, muscles tensing as he thrust inside, filling you with his thick erection.

Miguel's grip enveloped you like a vice, the sensation overwhelming you both-- his eyes locked with yours, the intensity of the connection incendiary, as he slowly advanced. His size made him feel huge, stretching you despite the ample lubrication. His moan of pleasure joined his groan of pain, a symphony of raw desire and urgency. His hands shook slightly as he thrust into you, the animalistic sounds of your union echoing in the small space.

Each thrust was deliberate, calculated to maximize his pleasure and his own desire. "Mi rei, are you okay?" he panted, the muscles in his abdomen flexing as he continued to move. "Tell me if you need me to stop..."

Despite the agony of his position and his size, your nod was slow and deliberate. Your eyes never left his, each thrust bringing with it pleasure and submission. You could count how many thrusts there were by the weight of his balls that hit your soft ass, leaving a red, painful mark on your sensitive flesh.

"Good boy... Taking everything in that cute pussy..." He growled as the veins in his neck bulged with each effort of his hips to not stick it all in and feel the tip of his dick tirelessly kiss your uterus ── but he didn't I could scare you now, despite wanting to take out all the frustration and excitement accumulated in your cunt. Your breasts bounced as you cried with fat tears coming down from your orbs, pleasure, guilt and undefined feelings in your mind made you bite your lip and just enjoy the moment.

"Fuck, mi angelito," he groaned, his eyes locked on yours. "F-Fuck, I can't control myself... Mierda-"

His movements became erratic, his need overpowering him as he drove into you, chasing the peak of his release. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat as he thrust deeper, harder, his desire fueling the intensity of your coupling.

"Just like this, mi carinõ," he cried out, his voice hoarse with lust. "Just like this, with you..." His words are the catalyst for your own release, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, wracking your body with pleasurable contractions that milk him of his release.

Miguel follows suit, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you with his warm, pearly essence, marking you as his once again. He collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding, both spent from the intensity.

"I don't deserve you, boy, but I need you."

[auroras-zenith]

what doesn't kill you // prologue

you had your whole life planned out for you; start an agency with your best friend, scale the charts and make japan your bitch. but when a tragic accident leaves you incapacitated and out of a job, you find you just need to start fresh. you cut ties–and for two years, you've all but disappeared. until they need you again and come knocking at your door.

bakugo x retiredpro!reader

next

It didn't make sense, the way you and Bakugo worked.

See, for everyone else in his life, he seemed to gravitate towards people opposite his nature.

Take Kirishima, for example–the blonde's best friend and wingman since high school. It was obvious how they clicked. The red heads steady, calming tendencies serving as the anchor to Bakugo's ship, lost in the storm of his brash, reckless ways.

The same could be said about nearly every other person in his life.

All but one.

"Yeah? Try me." He hissed, teeth gritted and eyes narrowed. The telltale scent of burnt caramel had already begun to propagate through the street.

"Dynamight- stop! Don't engage with the villain! Detain without injur–"

"Shut the fuck up, Deku!" Bakugo spat, ripping his comm off and tossing it to the side. "This extra wants to go, so let's go!"

"Hell yeah!" You grinned cockily, appearing at his side.

Where the world served to calm Bakugo Katsuki, you were the opposite. You were the oil, and he the flame. It shouldn't have worked.

But it did.

The world could say what it pleased about the two of you. At the end of the day, it was undeniable that you were an effective pairing on the battlefield.

"Start an agency with me." He demanded that foggy high school day, staring at you with such intensity anyone else would've confused it for a glare.

"Why should I?"

"Who else could keep your dumbass in check?"

You hadn't spoken for a week after that. He had spent those seven days sulking around–temper even shorter than usual, Kirishima tailing him, apologizing on his behalf.

"Because I can't do it without you."

"Sorry?" You asked, looking up snootily. You had heard him–he wasn't exactly a quiet person after all–and he knew it. The small quirk upwards in the corner of your lips gave you away.

Still, he humored you, rolling his eyes. "I can't do it without you." He huffed, louder this time. "I can't start an agency without you by my side."

Two of Japan's up and coming heroes–and boy were they coming in hot. Dynamight and Cordelia. Two wildly talented people on the battlefield, fearsome as they were reckless.

"Congrats, L/n." Kirishima smiled proudly, raising a glass.

You smirked fondly, lifting your own to meet his.

He was here for Bakugo, but it was nice to see him nonetheless. It was odd; despite the individual bonds you both shared with Bakugo, the two of you had never built a close friendship of your own. You simply enjoyed your respective time with the blonde, each holding respect for the other's unique relationship with the hot head.

"Thanks, Kiri." You grinned, taking a sip from your glass.

"To the Dynadelia agency!" A voice shouted over the chatter, a glass seen lifted over the sea of people.

The crowd erupted into noises of approval–hundreds of drinks lifted into the air.

"That's for us." Hot breath tickled the back of your ear.

You scoffed playfully, grinning wildly as you turned to face the voice. "Really? Couldn't tell."

"I'm serious, N/n. That's us. We did it."

You softened. "Yeah. Yeah, Kat. We did."

There was no stopping the two of you after that. The Dynadelia agency quickly rose to the first ranked agency in Japan, fourth in the world, each of you easily securing spots number two and four on the Japanese hero charts.

You didn't spend all your time together. You were both far too chaotic for that. Instead, you often found yourself allied with Deku and Shoto, and he with Redriot.

But when the two of you met on the field, boy were you unstoppable. Each a raging storm, fueling the other as both charged head on into danger.

"And another victory for pro hero Dynamight and the Dynadelia agency. As we hurtle into a dangerous, villain filled world, we thank our heroes for all..."

You hummed as you brewed yourself a pot of coffee, the news playing in the background as it covered your partner's latest tussle with a villain.

The finished mug was warm between your hands as you moved to sit on the couch.

You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to appreciate the slow day. It was warm inside despite the rain that could be heard pelting the floor just outside the window.

There was something so soothing about your cozy apartment on days like these. The plants that hung from the ceilings, the skylights overhead, and the mantle where you had placed old photographs of your high school days.

It was so authentically you.

"Could Cordelia and Dynamight be more than just partners on the battlefield?"

You paused your thoughts to tune back into the news, giggling as you heard the speculation. It was nothing new. The whole civilian and media world assumed the two of you were together–and even amongst those who knew you well, your friends and family all joked about the same.

It was obvious to the world that the two of you liked the other; and had since high school.

Maybe one day you'd settle down together. Retire and raise a family. But for now, you were both far too deep into your careers for anything as serious as that–and you were quite happy being his best friend.

You felt a buzzing in your pocket and set down the cup of warm coffee in your hand. Speak of the devil. You grinned as you answered.

"I just got home. You missing me already?"

"Fuckin' Deku's getting his ass kicked. Shoto too. Get over here."

You could hear sirens blaring in the background as he breathed heavily into the mic. It wasn't every day that someone could take on Japan's top three heroes and live to tell the tale, let alone leave them scrambling for more support.

"Tell them I'm on my way. Are you with them?" You were already up, coffee long since forgotten as you grabbed your costume, comm and phone.

"Shitty hair and I are about to take over while they handle evac."

"Be there in five."

You barely heard his affirmative before he hung up, screaming orders. It wasn't unusual for calls like this to occur, but something felt different about this one. Worse, somehow.

You sprinted out the door, whispering a thank you to the heavens as you stepped into the heavy rain.

The ground lowered away almost immediately, quirk like second nature as the water around you propelled you level with the clouds.

"Cordelia," they called you; heart of the sea.

a/n: been on my mind for a while so why not hehe

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[finnglas]

So I can't remember if I voted in the 2016 election.

I voted in the primaries, I remember that. For Bernie actually. I didn't like Hillary; I fell for the decades of smear campaigns. The right wing has been shining a spotlight on any real, perceived, or straight up fabricated less than savory detail about her since she was a political advocate in college in Arkansas who insisted on wearing pants when pants were not "professional" for women. And I, old enough to know better, fell for it.

2015 and 2016 were two of the hardest personal years of my life. I had lost my job, my cats had been super sick, we'd spent tens of thousands of dollars trying to pinpoint a mysterious health problem my partner was having, my mom had to have surgery on a crushed vertebrae -- there was a lot. I was exhausted, I wasn't excited by the Democratic candidate, and the polls all said Hillary had it in the bag. I meant to vote. I thought about it. But to this day, I don't know if I actually did. I have a sneaking suspicion that I didn't, that I ran out of time because I kept putting it off. My memory has trauma shaped holes in it, though, and I don't know for sure.

I do remember the gut punch of the election results though. I remember the breath stealing feeling of panic. I remember writing electors and asking them not to certify. I remember donating to Jill fucking Stein who said she was going to sue over the scandal with the voting machines.

(She did not; she kept that money for herself like the grifter she is.)

Most of all I remember crying for the entire month of January, because I knew what a Trump presidency meant. I watched as multiple queer and trans friends contemplated - and in some cases, carried through - plans for suicide because they were so terrified for what would happen to them under that government. (Note: I understand the impulse, but please do not do their job for them if you can help it. They don't deserve that and neither do you.) The trauma of several online contacts not existing anymore because they took what they saw as an emergency exit.

And I don't remember if I voted. I am haunted by the suspicion that I and others like me simply were not excited about the candidate we had, and had other concerns that took precedence. We relied on everyone else showing up in our place. Friends, there is no one else to show up in your place. You are the only person who can cast your vote.

If I could go back to 2016 now, I would drag my ass off the couch and go stand in line for however long it took, because not voting means I was complicit. It means I did not stand in the way of the damage I saw coming. I did not take what action was available to me to prevent or reduce harm.

I will never do that again. And honestly? You shouldn't either. There is no scenario in which handing over our basic safety without even the bare minimum of resistance is the moral high ground. It is just regret waiting to happen.

I know what I'm talking about on this one, ok?

Thanks for listening.