#like in some ways i understood bc it was something that could easily fall under rpf but like babes the people who are into rpf are going to

[ranger-kellyn]

i say this as someone who has been working on taking this to heart as well, but like......babes....y'all have GOT to let go of the need to have your art is interpreted exactly as you intended it to be. you're fighting a losing battle. nobody, literally NOBODY. will interpret it exactly as you intended it to. that's the beauty of art!

stop needing to control every little thing!! let people interpret it how they want!! even if it's the exact opposite of your own intention!

and i know this is easier said than done, but stop stressing about the bad faith takes as well!!! that says way more about them than it ever will about you!!! block and move the fuck on. or turn off comments! most places let you do that now.

if you're literally so pressed about someone interpreting your art "wrong", you should probably just use geocities or something else and make your own website to host your work, or just stop posting on such public websites in the first place. you will never be able to control how people interpret things, so stop stressing about things you literally have no control over.

[saylorsaysstop]

Hot Water | Stephen Strange x Fem!Reader

a/n: *sighs* can we all please have a Stephen?? bc i feel like he'd take such good care of his person

warnings: talks of periods, but overall just a very fluffy fic

Stephen Strange Masterlist

Stephen sensed that something was out of the ordinary with you. When he stirred you awake while getting out of bed, the light grumbles that left your lips followed by the smothering of your face against his pillow in his absence– normal. The way you pulled one leg up to your chest and sprawled out in the lavish king-sized bed which gave him absolutely no room to snuggle even if he wanted to– normal. 

But what wasn’t normal was when Stephen leaned down to kiss your forehead before heading to the kitchen to make his coffee, you turned away from him. That grumble easily deciphered as a painful moan, earning your boyfriend’s eyebrows to curiously rise.

“Honey?” he gently taps your thigh, snaking his hand under the blankets that feel like an oven. You inch away from his touch the closer he makes it to your abdomen, a hiss falling from your lips. He notices the way you turn in on yourself, grumbling something incoherent. 

Stephen takes a seat on the edge of the bed, the weight on the mattress stirring you awake. You release an atrocious groan as the sharp pain shoots through your right side, quite honestly feeling as though you were being impaled.

“What do you want?!” you belt, causing Stephen’s face to drop. You realize what you’ve just said and slowly turn your head to look at him, feeling the effects of your words. “Oh, I’m sorry,” 

Stephen swallows. “Is everything okay?” he dares to ask. 

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you awoke to the worst time of the month… You went down to the kitchen and grabbed some water and medicine for pain relief before you trudged back to the bedroom. But now that you’re slowly waking up, the medicine has worn off, and you’re left with stabby pains in your abdomen. You felt bloated, disgusting, and like you could really murder somebody. 

“Honestly? No. I want to hurt someone.” you hiss against Stephen’s pillow which luckily smelled just like his body wash and aftershave. It was the only comforting thing besides his large hand on your thigh under the covers. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Am I on that list of people you want to end?”

Sighing, you shake your head. “No… I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just in a lot of pain.” 

Stephen understood. While he had never experienced something like that – and he’s quite grateful he never will – he knows that as a dotting boyfriend, he should work to make it better. So he leans over and brushes his lips softly across yours, thankful for the sweet little hum you reverberated in his mouth as he gently pecks the corner before pulling away.

“Here’s what I want you to do. Stay in this bed, don’t move until I say you can, and let me take care of you.” his words were lusciously simple, the rasp in his voice making a shiver race down your spine. You dissolve into the sheets and listen to the sound of Stephen leaving the bedroom. Sighing, you turn over to try and get some relief, not meaning to fall back asleep.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you woke to the sound of water running in the bathroom and lavender filling the air. The whistle of your boyfriend makes you smile, that grin growing deeper along your lips when he appears in the doorway in nothing but his sweats. 

“What’d you do?” You giggle. 

“Ran you a bath. Come on,” he walks over to the bed and stretches his hand out for you. You place your palms into his, feeling as he effortlessly pulls you to your feet. You make your way into the bathroom to see that the jets are on, the bubbles are high, and your favorite book with some ice water is presented on the wooden table that sits over the water. 

“Stephen,” you gasp. He smiles proudly, taking you into his arms as he leans against the bathroom counter. He gently grasps the hem of your loose t-shirt and pulls it over your head, humming delightfully at the sight of your exposed skin. He leans in and kisses your lips before gently caressing your jaw with his fingertips, his lips traveling down your throat and lightly nipping at your collarbone. You throw your head back at the feeling, the euphoric sensation causing the pain to be a blur and the pleasure to be at an all-time high. “Baby,” you mewl, playing with the strings on the front of his sweatpants. 

He laughs, pulling your hands away from his forming erection, he focuses entirely on you. “We’ll have time for that later… I want you to get in the water while it’s hot,” 

Nodding, Stephen takes pride over you by shimmying your shorts down your thighs, the tent in his pants growing further at the enticing sight of you, his beloved. He grins, his teeth glittering as he sighs. Once you’re naked and prepped, he holds your hand as you step over the ledge and sink into the water. Immediately, the water swallows you and soothes the dull ache in your lower back. You grimaced, sinking inch by inch until you were fully submerged. Stephen sits on the edge and pampers you, pouring cupfuls of water onto your aching skin. 

“Have I ever told you just how much I love you? And that I don’t deserve you?”

Stephen shakes his head. “Baby, you deserve me. You also deserve the world, which I strive every day to give you.” 

You can feel the overwhelming emotion eat away at your resolve. Before Stephen can apply the face wash to your skin, he sees your lips trembling. 

“Hey, hey, why are you crying? What’s wrong– are you in pain? Tell me what you need me to do,” he drops to his knees by the tub. He washes his hands off and takes your hands into his, heart-shattering at the rolling tears. You shake your head and laugh. 

“Period hormones,” you wave your hand. “You’re just so amazing.” 

Stephen smiles, leaning forward to kiss you affectionately. 

He glances down at your book and smirks. “How would you like it if I read to you? Like we do in the library when your head is in my lap, but this time you’re in the bath?”

You don’t even need to contemplate it. Nodding your head eagerly, Stephen reaches a dry hand over to collect the book. You take a long sip of ice water and settle back into the water. 

He opens your bookmarked page and clears his throat, beginning to read. He’d do everything in his power to make sure you felt well, even if it meant sitting on a cold bathroom floor reading to you while on your period.

[mulderscully]

just gonna say it bc it’s bisexual visibility day and someone came @ me on twitter abt this on today of all days. imo there is nothing wrong with calling the vampires on wwdits bisexual. their sexuality has never been stated on screen, all we see is that they’re attracted to people regardless of their gender. 

that is literally what it means to be bisexual! and if you think otherwise, you are objectively incorrect.

if people watch the show and feel represented as bisexuals, how is that bad for anyone? if people watch the show and feel represented as pansexuals, how is that bad? pansexuality and bisexuality are linked. it is ONE COMMUNITY. pansexuality falls under the bi umbrella. 

i understand the showrunners have used the term pansexual. but this isn’t about fictional characters - it’s about how the way people see characters reflect how they see reality. 

i’m not here to argue whether or not pansexuality is valid or not - but at the end of the day it does overlap with bisexuality and i really encourage pan people who feel like they don’t want these ancient vampires to be associated or confused for bisexuals to really examine why they feel that way and to do some research into the past and ongoing history of what is actually means to be bisexual.

the truth is that i could very easily identify as pan myself - and i choose not to because that label is literally rooted in biphobia. the first definition of pansexuality literally calls bisexuality meaningless. 

language evolves over time! definitions and meanings and intentions change, just like october is the 10th month of the year and not the 8th. i’m not saying pan people are biphobic and i will never tell anyone how to identify (unless you’re a terf.) but i choose to identity as bi because i want to honor the true definition of the label and fight for us to be understood as we have always been, not the way people misrepresent us.

others may not feel discomfort with identifying as pan because of it’s origins - others may not want the heavy weight of the bisexual label’s history. i get it to a degree. - but at the end of the day they do mean the same thing and i’m honestly tired of pretending that they don’t. it feels as if people think bisexuality is some disgusting outdated term when it’s not.

but please understand this: bisexuality has always meant attraction regardless of gender and to ALL genders and no bisexual person experiences their own sexuality the same way. [source] [source] and of course, [the bisexual manifesto of 1990] and i am begging people to hear us, to hear this and listen to the bi community and our history.

so if i see nandor and think that is a bisexual because some of his wives were guys and some were girls - i don’t see how that is in any way incorrect or something to fight over. just like i don’t fight anyone calling him pansexual on their own accounts.

now, i want to end this by saying i love pan people because you are my people, let us be your people too.

[hhhecates]

Okay, hear me out, I have this hc about inumaki that I need to share bc I like to make my thoughts everyone's problem,,,

What if inumaki knows sign language, he learnt it all by himself while growing up to be able to communicate with others (cause it's canon that amongst his family they communicate with their hearts, pliz i wanna cry). And well, he uses sign language mostly when he's out and about in his daily life cause man can't really be talking in onigiri ingredients to strangers. Thing is that with his friends, he doesn't really use it??? He's so so grateful that they manage to interpret what he means, it fills his heart with a new type of warmth when he literally speaks food but yūta nods along attentively, maki mostly rolls her eyes at his misplaced and quite sarcastic interjections (because you can feel the attitude coming from that tuna mayo sometimes), megumi never misses a beat and answers him right away and reader loves having conversations with him and ever so often asks inumaki his opinion on anything and everything and they just look at him with stars in their eyes as he rambles in ingredients.

Sometimes inumaki even relishes it, he likes leaving his friends hanging and arguing over what he says because he's just a fucking menace and he knows it.

But inumaki sometimes gets insecure, sometimes he does throw in a couple of signs hurriedly to make sure that he is understood, sometimes it's even mindlessly, signing his favourite words or the ones that he uses more often just because he is used to it. Some other times it can even be desperate, during fights against curses when he wished he could cry out his friends names but restrains himself because it's too dangerous, and then it's big, hurried and shaky motions, his hands trembling and eager to shout safety when his voice can't.

But inumaki never tells, never asks his friends to learn sign language for him, he doesn't want to burden them with that, so instead he limits his use of it around them as much as he can, because he knows they would pick up on it. He just knows by the way they always make sure never to speak over him or how they hush others whenever he does speak up.

What if reader notices anyways?? And it's not like the others don't care as much, they do, they really do. But maybe reader already knew a little sign language themselves, maybe they just like learning languages in general, maybe, just maybe, they find themselves looking at inumaki a little closer, a little more attentively.

And then reader decides to start learning sign language too. They watch videos, read articles, buy books (that they have to hide under their bed because inumaki is a nosy fucker with the people he's comfortable with, hell, I'm pretty sure reader has to erase their youtube history otherwise inumaki would quickly find out whenever they binge watch videos together). And at the beginning it's hard, it's so hard learning on their own, and it's hard also for them to restrain themselves from using it around inumaki, from asking him if they're signing correctly and wondering if inumaki could teach them all of his favourite words. But they manage to keep their mouth shut, to wait until they get better so that they are sure they could have an actual conversation without inumaki having to worry about using words too complex for reader to understand.

But then, it's yūta finding reader one afternoon while they're struggling, borderline crying, over compounding and reduplicating and sentence structure and it's all getting to their head so they're  f r u s t r a t e d. And yūta, like the absolute fucking sweetheart he is, he immediately offers to help them and ofc bby wants to learn too cause inumaki is his bestfriend too >:/

And please, I just know that these two would end up dragging the entirety of Jujutsu High in their plan and teach all of them sign language.

JUST IMAGINE, study nights in reader's dorm room, with snacks and energy drinks cause they gonna need them for sure, yūta and reader are teaching the others with like 12 different books strewn all over the floor, 3 different videos playing in the background and it's so damn chaotic. Megumi is probably a natural cause he already uses hands gesture to evoke his shikigami, so he can remember hand signs very easily and can do them so cleanly while like nobara and yuji be struggling and just yell at fushiguro cause "it's not fair" and "he has an advantage". Panda is there just to support them cause he can't really sign with his paws, but he just manages to instill more chaos by teasing and poking fun at Maki (poor girl has zero patience).

And gojo would 100% join them just to sprinkle more chaos and be the absolute menace that he is. (But lowkey he wants to learn too ofc).

And ofc, they're probably so outwardly secretive about it that inumaki notices it right away and he just has to be a nosy little shit about it (cause how dare they leave him out of it) so one night he quite literally bursts into reader's room only to find Maki and Itadori yelling over "how the fuck non-manual modifiers work" and Gojo and Nobara laughing their asses off and making jokes about their awful awful hand coordination, reader and Yūta are probably so fucking done, Panda is enjoying them freaking out like it's the last season of his favourite tv show.

And it's honestly hilarious how quickly they fall silent in complete and utter horror at the sight of inumaki standing there.

And then they all kind of fumble around and try to greet inumaki and like introduce themselves or say something in sign language one by one bc that's what they had been preparing for, right?? And it's probably so messy but inumaki doesn't give a fuck and then, he just starts crying.

Prob they take it the wrong way too, and they all start panicking, but he is quick to try and reassure them, hands shaky by how overwhelmed he is, that warm feeling he had learnt to associate to his friends is back, but tenfold, and it makes his cheeks burn and a smile so big break on his face. And then he signs back "hi everyone, I'm Inumaki Toge".

[mitsukui]

hopping on the idea of the joking if a guys fuck is small.... all i can imagine is george laughing and the. absolutely destroying me and mocking me for saying it

bitch i once read from this girl who had shifted that george’s dick is 12 inches, i was gagged

Explicit content below! It contains mentions of degradation kink, dirty talk, overstimulation, belly bulge.

"You're just a slut who enjoys being fucked, right?"

His dirty words echoed in the room you shared, and you could only moan shakily in response. Your body trembled slightly from being overstimulated — he had made you cum twice already, and apparently, he had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

"But you also enjoy telling lies, I see."

George held your hips firmly, only enough to leave light purplish bruises on your soft skin. A safeword had been obviously discussed beforehand, but you felt no need to use it. You were well aware that he would always take good care of you and prioritize your well being, no matter what.

"What did you say earlier?" His grip on your skin became tighter, but you felt pleasure and lust burning on your insides. Deep down, you wanted to be punished for what you had done, mostly because he would be the one to punish you.

Your lungs tried to capture all the existing air in order to form a coherent sentence, but you still stammered and whimpered under his touch. "I-I said that y-y..."

The tip of his cock brushed against your entrance, and you instantly lose track of thought. Being sensitive as you already were, you gave in to pleasure in a heartbeat once more, and there you were: moaning and squirming, entirely dominated by George Weasley.

"Hmm? What are you trying to say?" He brushed up against you faster, and you arched your back. You also tried pushing yourself further, only to end the distance between the two of you, but his sharp and dark eyes captured every single one of your movements.

"You get fucked when I say so, understood?" If that were possible, you got even more aroused after listening to his words. Your clit throbbed with excitement, and your cunt ached for his cock. "Now be a good girl, use your words and tell me what you said earlier."

While one of his hands still kept a tight grip on your hips, the other one traveled up to your right breast. He continued cooing you to repeat your previous statements with the filthiest of the words and with short flicks to your nipple.

"I-I said that your...d-d-dick is small."

At the end of your sentences, he finally thrust deep into you, his member reaching your g-spot so effortlessly. George was far from being small, but teasing him had gotten to your head. He was thick and big, but you still took all of him so well, both of you moaning at the sensation of your walls clenching around him.

"Does that feel small to you, princess?" He moved at a painfully slow pace, but you could feel every inch of him filling you up, stretching you out, and giving the greatest level of lust you have ever experienced.

So he fucked you. He fucked you relentlessly, alternating between slow, deep thrusts and fast, sloppy thrusts. You were completely his at that moment.

However, he was fucking you so deeply that something caught his eye.

On your lower stomach area, the outlines of his shaft were faintly visible. He watched his cock disappearing and reappearing repeat and hypnotically, a novel hunger bursting inside his core.

"Just look at that..." The way he moved became significantly slower, and the bulge on your skin was more prominent now. He moved sensually at that moment, his eyes never leaving your lower stomach. "I'm so fucking big that I can watch myself almost destroying you."

George chuckled mostly to himself, but the sounds produced by his throat sent shivers down your spine. After a while, he stopped moving and just stared at the bulge still present underneath your skin.

With one of his hands, he pressed down onto it, and you gasped, something new exploding inside you. Your reaction also provoked something in him because, before any of you could realize, your orgasms were coming over you.

He moaned deep and uncontrollably as he released his seed inside you, thick ropes painting your insides. His cock twitched in you, and you clenched around him, a perfect symphony created wordlessly between the two of you.

It took one minute or two until you and George were both settled next to each other, chests still rising and falling back down and silhouettes trembling weakly. That was, by far, one of the best intimate moments you had ever shared, and it baffled you how he had so easily left you speechless.

Although a couple more minutes flew by, he was the one to break the silence and to talk to you.

"I hope you changed your mind on my dick being small, babe. If not, just give me some minutes, and I’ll be ready to fuck you again. Can you take it, though?"

Tag list! ❤️ @efyra @writingsomewrongs @kellsslut @pineapplesandpinas @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @emmaev @asthmax @anchoeritic @eunoia-kth @asimpfortheweasleys @wand3ringr0s3 @darthwheezely (yes bitch i’m tagging you bc i want you to suffer just like i did)

[reidgraygubler]

bowling shoes (franklin/reader)

Title: Bowling Shoes

Request:  yes! It was requested by the wonderful @sunlight-moonrise​​

Couple: franklin (mgg’s role in beginner’s luck)/fem!reader

Category: smut

Content Warning:  SEXUAL CONTENT (degradation, praise kink, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, little bit of cockwarming ;), spanking, heavy petting, slight humiliation (i think), spitting, hair pulling, groping, creampie/unprotected sex, fingering, penetrative sex), dom!franklin, kissing/making-out, swearing, implied age gap (but they never specify Franklin’s age. So idk) (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, PLEASE let me know!!)

Word Count: 4,224

Summary:  Reader is new in town and works at her grandfather’s bowling alley, where some people spend late nights practicing for the town-wide bowling competition.

A/N: The third day of my seven days of seven fics! This particular one shot has been sitting in my wip list since September 2020. And I just finally decided to write it. This was written with matthew gray gubler’s character from the short film Beginner’s Luck. If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend watching it bc it’s amazing and I love Franklin. I hope you’re all enjoying the 7 days 7 fics! I really cranked it out on all of these oneshots! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!  

{***}{***}{***}

Little Falls… I never understood this town's love for bowling… and I probably never will… It’s probably a good thing that I moved from Little Falls before I got old enough to actually learn how to bowl, mostly because if I did, and I didn’t bowl, I’d probably be chased out of town with a crowd of pitchforks and torches.

So, it’s probably an even better thing that I just work at the town’s precious bowling alley. But, to be fair… This alley has been in the family since it opened. 

Long story short, I hate bowling. I just needed extra cash, and my grandfather just so happens to pay me extra. Not because I’m fami-No that’s exactly why...

“You are busting my balls here!” A man shouted from the lanes. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked in that direction, looking for the owner of the shouts. I gently placed the pair of shoes down on the counter before walking around to the lanes. “You can’t be serious!” A guy wearing a yellow bowling shirt was shouting down the lane he was standing on. 

“Is… Is everything okay?” I leaned against the half-wall beside me. I propped my arms on top of the wall as I looked at him. I looked across the tables behind the lanes and noted there was only one other person, who was watching the man with such intent I was sure they’d kill him. “It’s just you playing,” I half-laughed at the guy. He spun around on his toes and pointed a finger at me. I tried to not take it as accusatory, but everything in my body was telling me he meant it as such.

“I would have gotten that pin down if it wasn’t for you,” he half-shouted at me. I lifted my hands as some form of surrender as I stepped down to the lanes. The guy in the yellow bowling shirt looked at me and cocked his head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just came down here to see if everything was alright… And if it was, I was just going back to work… Cleaning smelly rental, bowling shoes,” I gestured back towards the counter where a pile of rental shoes was sitting, waiting to be cleaned. “I just heard all the shouting down here and wanted to make sure someone wasn’t fighting with the balls,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. My joke about the balls was only mildly humorous if you knew that there were only 3 people in total in the alley. Myself, the angry stranger, and his unusual friend.

Glasses that kinda reminded me a little of Jeffery Dahmer sat on the tip of his nose, and just under his nose was a porn-stache. And the way he styled his hair just looked like a mop sitting on his head. But there was something, I don't know, attractive (I guess it was attractive) about this man. A certain handsomeness that I couldn’t exactly describe. 

“No, no, no one was fighting with the balls,” he spoke as he stepped closer to me. He looked down at me with a smile before resting both his hands on my shoulder. I sighed deeply as I stared up at him. “Now, go, run along… You said you have rental shoes to clean,” he smiled as he turned me around to face the 3 steps behind us. 

“Hold on,” I stepped away from him and turned back to face him. I had to crane my neck up to meet his stare, him being nearly a foot taller than me. “I can easily kick you out of here,” I scoffed as I looked at his shirt, finally noticing the patch sewn into the pocket of his shirt. The name Franklin was stitched into the patch with black thread in a fancy script. “Franklin,” I looked up at him and smiled. The cocky and smug expression on his face faltered for a moment as he looked at me. 

“Oh, aren’t you’re so cute,” he brought his hands to rest on my cheeks before squeezing them together, pushing my lips out. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked as he cocked his head to look down at me. I couldn’t exactly answer with my words, so I just nodded lightly. My eyes never left his face, and his never left mine.

“There’s just one thing you’re missing then. I own this place. This bowling alley... Is mine,” he kept his voice low as he spoke and the smugness returning, “Do you understand, Sunshine,” he asked, the condescension in his tone really coming out with the pet name he used. I tried to laugh and shake my head before I pulled away from his grasp. I stumbled back, nearly falling over the steps behind me.

“Since when are you my grandpa?” I asked, cocking my head to my shoulder. I could feel a teasing smile grow on my lips as I looked at him. His face shifted from being very smug to being shocked. “Yeah, bet you didn’t see that one coming… Did ya, Franklin,” I smiled at him. 

Franklin stepped back away from me but kept his stare on my face. “You’re not Hank’s grandkid. I would know when his grandkid would be here,” he pointed at me as he backed away from me. I snickered and shrugged.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I smiled as I folded my arms over my chest. Franklin looked over his shoulder at his companion, seeking some sort of backup. But it was clear that she had no intentions in answering, she was far too busy just admiring him. How did he not see this as uncomfortable and wrong? 

“Aw, now you’re intimidated by the bowling alley girl? I don’t even bowl,” I scoffed before pulling my eyes off him, “I just work here,” I laughed. Franklin looked genuinely offended by my statement. Again, I don’t understand this town’s love for bowling.

“I’m sorry… What did you just say?” he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh, I really did offend him… Do I feel sorry? Not really...

“Oh, yeah, you heard that right. It’s stupid. And, frankly, Franklin, I don’t understand how a town so quaint is so obsessed with throwing a ball at some plastic things,” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. He stepped closer to me, and for the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And suddenly a tension was in the air between us. It was suffocating. “Did I make you mad? Did I piss poor Fwankwin off,” I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted, "Did I huwt your feewings," my head falling back as I broke into a fit of laughter.

“Be quiet,” Franklin scoffed as he stared at me. I felt my smile become a little smug as I looked up at him. 

“Oh? Really? Why don’t you make me?” I shrugged and stepped closer to him. We were so close, breathing each other’s air. One step from either of us and our chests would be pressed together. Our toes, however, were touching. His rented bowling shoes barely standing on my canvas shoes. 

That was when the air tensed even more. But, the level of tension shifted from an awkwardness… to a certain awkward-sexual tension. I personally loved it because he’s a dick. Men like him need to be messed with. Plus, I’m bored...

“Is that what you want me to do?” his voice was lower than before. My smile fell away and I swallowed roughly. I could feel my heart in my throat, cutting off any words I wanted to say. “Oh, I see how it is. All that snark and attitude is fake. Because the second someone… An older man, maybe, says something… It goes away,” he smirked as he slowly brought a hand to my face. I went to move my face away from his touch, but failed when he forced me to look at him.  

“You’re a brat,” he whispered as he kept his eyes on me. A shiver went down my spine and I had to press my legs together, slightly shifting my feet. I stared at him with wide eyes, feeling my breathing pick up slightly. 

And the moment was ruined before I even got the chance to say something. It seemed as if we both had forgotten something. Rather, someone. 

“We should get going, Franklin,” a voice asked from behind him. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and pulled his hand from my face. It was obvious we both forgot that someone else was here. We were both so involved with each other that we just forgot about his companion. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he opened his eyes and looked at me, sighing deeply before speaking.

"I'm gonna be here late. You should just go home," Franklin spoke to his companion but kept his eyes strictly on me. His friend looked up at him like he was some sort of celebrity. I wasn’t exactly sure why she was staring at him like that. He wasn’t a god or anything. Unless he was, then I’d be screwed.

"It's okay. I can wait,” she smiled as she longingly looked at him. I looked back at Franklin before nodding to his friend. I’m starting to think she wasn’t even a friend of his… just a creepy and overly-devoted fan. I don’t think Franklin even noticed her obsession. “I’ll always wait for you, Franklin,” she murmured. I shifted on my foot before I stepped back.

“Bomber,” he spoke, turning to look at her. He looked down at her, his eyes telling her to leave. I only know that because Bomber (I suppose that’s her name) gathered her things and quickly left the alley. “Sorry, now where were we, Sunshine?” 

“Your friend seems nice,” I muttered, looking away from him for a brief moment. Franklin scoffed out a laugh before shaking his head.

 “She’s not a friend, just a teammate,” his voice was low as he brought a hand back to my face. Part of me was expecting him to be gentle, and I’m not really sure why I thought that. So when he jerked my head back up to look at him, I was left in shock. “But, that wasn’t where we left off. Bomber’s gone now,” he dropped his head down and looked at me through his eyelashes. 

“Which means we’re alone now,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He smiled and nodded lightly before bringing my face closer to his.

“Now you’re getting it,” he returned the whisper before harshly pressing his lips to mine. I couldn’t help but moan as he pulled me closer to his body. It was so hard to keep my focus on the world around us. My knees carefully buckled beneath me. If it weren’t for Franklin, I probably would have fallen to the ground. He stood his ground firm, like he was a brick wall in the wind, keeping me upright as I almost fell to the ground. 

He moved his face away from mine, but we were still close enough to feel each other’s breath. Franklin moved his free hand to my hip before carefully pushing it past the waistband of my pants. My body shifted slightly, trying to get more of his touch against me.

“The… The door,” I whispered, my eyes going to the door. Although, I truthfully didn’t care too much about the door and it being unlocked. The bowling alley closes in 5 minutes anyways.

“Who cares about the fucking door,” he muttered. I instantly looked back at him, feeling a whimper work its way out of my mouth. Franklin smiled as he moved his hand against the flimsy cotton blocking his hand from where I wanted it most. 

“Please,” I whispered, moving my hips against his hand. I hated the way he smiled. Mostly because it only further turned me on.

“Ohh, you’re such a needy slut. So wet and I’ve barely done anything,” he whispered as he squeezed my cheeks again. “You’ll get what you want, in due time,” he smiled. He pushed my underwear to the side and carefully moved his fingers between my folds. I couldn’t help myself as I ground down on his hand.

“Franklin,” I whimpered, my eyebrows furrowing slightly. He smirked, watching as I struggled for a moment. His finger slowly moving around the sensitive bud at the apex of my legs. My hands quickly held his arms, I was worried I’d fall if I didn’t hold onto him. My legs and knees became more and more wobbly as time passed.  

“Don’t cum till I tell you you can, Pretty Girl,” he whispered and pouted, “how about you open that pretty little mouth of yours, Sunshine,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to rest on my chin. I widened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I kept my eyes on him, a shaky breath leaving me, as I slowly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. Franklin smiled slightly before holding my cheeks and spitting right onto my tongue. He nudged my mouth shut, forcing me to hold his spit in my mouth for a moment. I had to force myself not to gag as I held his spit before swallowing it. 

“What a good little whore,” Franklin cooed, cocking his head to his shoulder. I took a shaky breath as his movements in my pants picked up pace. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at me. I wanted to have a snarky reply, I really did. But I swear to god, my mouth and body betrayed me because an honest to god moan came from me. 

“Oh, you certainly did enjoy that,” he laughed as his movements in between my legs quickened. I looked up at him with wide eyes as a familiar tension grew in my abdomen.

But instead of saying anything else, he just put his mouth over mine, swallowing whatever sounds emitted from my mouth. He smiled, clearly enjoying my mild suffering. 

My body struggled to move, almost missing the sign of Franklin moving. On wobbly legs, my feet carried me backwards, and with Franklin's guidance, up the steps. My arms were wrapped around his neck to keep close to him. 

I was so close, I could feel the tension about to snap within me. The noises that were coming from me were becoming more desperate the closer I got to the snap. Franklin didn't seem bothered by my sounds at all. In fact, he was amused. 

He was so amused, that when he pulled his hands from my pants and pushed me over the counter, he laughed when I cried out. I wasn't sure the sound was from annoyance from him stopping, or from shock from being pushed down over the counter. His hand was firmly placed on my back, keeping me in place.

“What was that for!?” I shouted, trying to stand back up, only to be forced back down by Franklin, “You better do something better than leaving me high and dry! I swear to God!” I shouted as I wiggled my butt into his crotch. A certain hardness pressed into my butt and leg, causing me (and Franklin) to hold back a groan. Franklin’s hand was still around my waist, planted firmly on my hip to hold me against him. “Please, just fuck me already! Fuck!” I shifted my feet a bit and tightly pressed my thighs. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Franklin laughed as he shoved his knee between my legs, blocking his foot between mine to keep my legs apart more, “If you’re going to finish, you’re gonna finish on my cock. You got that, Sunshine?” he groaned as he pressed his front into my butt more. I bit my lips together, nodded and whined, hoping that was a good enough answer. “Uh huh, use your words, Sunshine. Do you understand that?” he asked as he leaned closer to my ear.

“Yes! Yes, I understand! Please,” I whimpered as his grip loosened on my hip and moved to the button of my jeans. I let out a deep relieved sigh as my jeans fell to the ground around my ankles. Although my moment of relief and excitement was cut short by a loud crack in the air, and a sudden pain on my bottom. 

“Fuck!” I gasped once I finally regained the ability to talk and breathe. My chest began heaving as my body started to get more worked up. The sudden smack on my ass went straight to my core, causing me to involuntarily moan. Franklin laughed lightly, and I could just see him shaking his head in amusement.

“What do you want, Sunshine?” Franklin asked, his voice low, lower than before. I swallowed roughly before lifting my head slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, trying hard to look over my shoulder at him. His glasses were slipping down his nose, and his hair was covering his eyes. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and swept across his lower lip.

“Wrong,” he muttered before striking my butt again. A pleased shriek fell from my lips as I dropped my head down to the counter. “What do you want,” 

“Franklin, please,” my words were soft as my breathing got rougher, “Fuck me, please, do… Do whatever you-you want… To me,” my statement was punctuated by another strike on my ass. A mix of a cry and a moan escaped my lips as he gently rubbed the sore spot on my bottom. But it was only a moment before he smacked my other butt cheek. 

“Do it again! Please,” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. I waited for his hand to make contact with my bare bottom again, but instead, I got nothing. I sucked in a deep breath before letting out a soft whimper, “Please,” I begged as I swayed my hips slightly from side to side. I hoped my begging would have given me what I wanted. But at this point, I’m not sure what I wanted more, to be fucked by him, or to be spanked by him over, and over again.

After he spanked my butt for the 6th time, Franklin’s hand grazed over each cheek before lightly dragging his fingers over my core. 

“You’re so wet, Sunshine,” he whispered as he moved his fingers over my cunt. Any response I thought I had gone out the window when he pushed two fingers into my entrance. So, I guess my response came in as a moan. “Fuck,” he groaned with pleasure.  

I was in trouble. He knew that too. The way he was playing with me, toying with me to get even the slightest reaction. Trying to get me as close as possible, without actually getting me over the edge. But whenever he curled his fingers just right, or just slightly touched my clit. 

“I-I’m so close,” I cried, my body moving closer to him. Franklin laughed again as he pulled his hand away from my body. This was the first time tonight that he wasn’t touching me. His hands were away from me, and as I tried to move closer to him I found nothing.

“Stay still, I want to remember this moment,” Franklin muttered as he rested a hand on my lower back, “Are you ready, Sunshine,” he asked, his tone seemed gentle. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Mmm-hmm, yes,” I nodded, feeling my hair move around before finally falling around my face. My body shivered as the sound of his zipper went down. And my body jerked once his hands were on my hips. 

I folded my arms on the counter. But what I should have done was brace myself against it in a better way. My body’s excitement was getting the better of me, and I could feel myself stray from the counter, and slowly towards his body.

“Stay still,” he muttered as he pushed me closer to the counter. My lungs ceased to function as I felt him rub the head of his cock against my slit. I choked back a moan and pressed  my lips together. And then he slowly began pushing into my entrance.

“Oh god,” I cried, pressing my face into my arms. 

“Name’s Franklin, but God works just fine,” he laughed behind me as he slowed his entrance. I gasped as he stopped, before slamming fully into me in one go. I couldn’t stop the shout that came from the pit of my stomach.

Once we were both used to each other, he started moving, his hips quickly finding a rhythm we were both pleased with. The silent room was quickly occupied by the grunts or moans from its only two occupants, and the sound of skin hitting skin.

I slowly lifted my head, looking out at the bowling alley. Is it bad that I didn’t think that this was weird or bad? That I was being fucked over the counter by a guy I just met? What would my grandfather think if he ever knew about this? Good thing he was never going to find out.

Franklin wrapped my hair around his hand before pulling me back up so my back was flush against his chest. His movements stilled, his hips pressed against mine as he stayed totally in me. My body froze like ice as I tried to take a deep breath. My senses were suddenly overwhelmed, and I honestly loved it. 

“Fuck,” I cried, pushing my hips against him to get some sort of relief. But I only groaned as he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me still as well. “Please,”

“So greedy, so filthy,” Franklin groaned as he buried himself deeper into me. I whimpered as I bit my lips. The bitter, metallic taste of blood found its way to my tastebuds. “How does that feel? Does it feel good,” his voice was so low, nearly a growl in my ear. I sucked in a deep breath of air, slowly turning my face to look at him. “Just holding my cock in you?” he asked before pressing his lips harshly to the side of my face. 

“I… I do…” I spoke quickly and in a harsh whisper. My muscles clenched around him, wanting something to give me help for my finish. While Franklin kept his lips pressed to the side of my face, while his hands were otherwise preoccupied. One hand was holding one of my breasts, gently kneading at it. While the other was between my legs, slowly moving around my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, please move,” I whimpered, pressing my shoulder into his shoulder a bit more. Franklin removed his hand from my chest before gently pushing me back over the counter. I let out a pleased moan once he started moving his hips again. It only took a matter of moments before the tension in me snapped, sending me over the edge. My vision turned white, and my hands balled into fists, my nails would cause indentations in my palms once my hands relaxed.

And, after a few more faulty thrusts into me, Franklin finished close behind me. His body hunched over mine, his hands holding himself up on the counter beside me. Neither of us wanted to move, still trying to calm down from what just happened. But also, the mess to follow once he finally stepped away from me. 

“I didn’t know I needed that,” I truthfully stated. Franklin laughed before standing upright. I’d be lying if I said I wanted him to step away from me. So when he eventually did, I held back the whimper. 

“Paper towels?” he asked as he fixed himself back into his pants. I swallowed roughly as I blindly pointed towards where I was cleaning the rental bowling shoes. He stepped away from me, going to grab the things he sought after. 

The mixture of the two of us slowly leaked down my inner thigh, and I just knew that mess would not be fun to clean, now or later. When Franklin returned and wiped a damp paper towel up my thigh, I jumped. 

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked as he helped me stand up straight. My legs and knees were so shaky, I almost fell. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. I only struggled a little bit to pull my jeans and underwear back up, but I was very relieved when they were back around my waist.

“I had a great time,” he laughed. I swallowed roughly before stepping back away from him. I hoisted myself up so I was sitting on the counter, only to let out a sharp cry and jump off the counter. How the fuck did I forget about the pain on my ass?

“Did it feel like winning?” I asked, feeling a smile grow on my lips. Franklin looked up at me with a sly smile, cocking his head to his shoulder.

“I always win in this bowling alley, Sunshine,” he muttered as he stared at me. I blinked slowly. “Except for that one time. But every time after… Always a win,”

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[animatedarchives]

CHEMISTRY

— 𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐎

author’s note: hi guys! this is based off of a conversation i had with @velvetfireworks​ about dozing off in class hehe ^^ it’s pretty cringey and cheesy but i thought it was cute :> enjoy!~

genre: fluff

warning: none, just school being sucky and some nerdy chemistry puns bc i love science

word count: 1.7k words

“Each carbon atom is sp3 hybridised and covalently bonded to four other carbon atoms to form a tetrahedral structure, making it insoluble in water and...”

I’m so tired.

The lecturer droned on and on in his awfully monotonous voice, his words going right over your head. You rubbed your face exasperatedly and sat up straight in your chair, trying your best to stay awake.

Maybe you should have gotten more rest last night. But how could you? Especially given all the assignments that were due this week. You groaned. Either way, you just wanted this class to be over.

Your eyes flicked to the clock mounted on the wall at the front of the hall, watching painfully as it ticked at an agonisingly slow pace.

Just… half an hour more…

You shook your head to will the sleepiness away, tightening the grip on your pen as you attempted to listen to the lecture once more. But the exhaustion from your allnighter last night was too much, and it fizzled out any determination you had to stay awake. Your body seemed to act against the pleas of your mind, and your eyelids slowly began to droop.

No! Need to... listen… to...

Your eyes eventually drifted shut and you felt instant relief wash over you. As much as you wanted to stay awake, you had no more energy to pry your eyelids apart.

Okay… Maybe just… five minutes…

You leaned back in your chair and gave in to your exhaustion, letting yourself be overtaken by sleep.

A few minutes passed and finally, you began to stir, your brain slowly starting back up again after your short nap.

Mmm, my pillow… So soft… Maybe I can sleep for a while longer— Wait.

Your eyes snapped open.

I don’t have a pillow.

You rubbed your face sleepily and assessed your situation, your eyes widening in horror as you realised you had ended up falling asleep on the shoulder of the person next to you.

“Oh my- I am so sorry!” you jerked away from them, the top of your head colliding with their chin.

“Ow-”

“SORRY SORRY SORRY, I’M SO SORRY!” you apologised profusely.

In your frenzy, you knocked your pencil case off your table, sending your stationery flying. You cursed under your breath and fumbled around, trying to get your things — and yourself — together. The stranger bent down and helped to pick up some of your pens, and although you were grateful, it deepened the guilt you felt in the pit of your stomach for causing them so much inconvenience.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated again, turning to face him.

He chuckled. “For a smart girl, you sure have some limited vocabulary,” he said, approaching you and handing you back your pens. You scoffed at the backhanded compliment but kept your smile nonetheless.

“Thank you… uh…” you trailed off, not knowing how to address him.

“The name’s Kuroo Tetsuro.”

“Mine is L/N Y/N!” you smiled politely. “Thank you, Kuroo.”

You were now very much awake and able to take in his appearance, an opportunity you missed during the earlier commotion. He wasn’t dressed in anything too outlandish; it was rather simple honestly — a white tee, a black jacket, some black joggers with a red stripe going down the side, and matching red shoes to accentuate the pop of colour. His jet black hair was spiked up as well, but strangely, not all of it. For some reason, he allowed his bangs to fall across the right side of his face instead of spiking it up like the rest. It was unusual, but strangely... rather charming.

“It’s not very polite to stare, you know.”

You blushed at his comment and whipped your head to look at anything else but him.

“I- I wasn’t staring!” you denied, hoping your face wasn’t as red as it felt.

“Sure you weren’t,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. Who was this guy? You’d barely even met him, yet you felt so comfortable around him. It was like you were naturally drawn to him. Attracted, even. You shook your head and cleared your throat, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind.

“So uh, how much did I miss?” you asked.

“We just finished up the rest of this chapter on chemical bonding,” he replied. You groaned, dreading how much you’d have to study tonight in order to catch up on what you missed during the lecture. There was no way this could get worse.

And of course, just as you thought that, a dark splotch on Kuroo’s jacket caught your eye and you mentally slapped yourself as your eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is…” you said as you buried your face in your hands.

Confused, Kuroo followed your line of sight until it landed on a wet spot on his jacket, just below the curve of his shoulder — the very one you were sleeping on. He made a face and you had never felt more embarrassed in your entire life.

“Oh my gosh, please let me make it up to you! I’ll buy you lunch!” you sputtered out. You had to repay him somehow, not just because you’d used him as a pillow during Chemistry class but because there was now a huge spot of your drool on his clothes to show for it.

He chuckled at your flusteredness. “Lunch sounds great.”

He suggested going to his favourite food place, claiming it had the best grilled salted mackerel pike in the world. You agreed and followed him — it was only fair he chose where to eat after everything you’d put him through. As you neared the stall, you caught a whiff of the delicious grilled fish, causing your mouth to water and you licked your lips excitedly. The waitress greeted you at the entrance and motioned you to follow her inside as she led you to your seats.

“A table for two for the lovely couple,” she gestured towards the table. “Enjoy your date!” she smiled.

Your cheeks started to heat up and you shook your head vigorously at the misunderstanding. “N-no! This isn’t-” you tried to correct her but your protests fell on deaf ears as she was already walking away.

“Wow, do you not want to go on a date? You wound me,” he placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“NO NO NO IT’S JUST-”

“Oh, so you do want to go on a date with me?”

“WHA- NO- I MEAN-”

“I’m teasing, kid,” he laughed and ruffled your hair. “Sit down.”

You let out a sigh as you both took your seats. You were a complete mess today. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he seemed to find it pretty amusing.

You peered over your menu to look at the boy sitting across you. It was hard to believe you’d only met a while ago considering you were now having lunch at his favourite food place, talking like you were old friends. And you couldn’t help but feel something warm starting to bubble within your chest.

“Staring again?” he asked without even needing to look at you. You quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“NO!” you retorted and lifted the menu up to cover your red face.

The two of you placed your orders and the rest of lunch went without a hitch. You were surprised with how easily conversation came with Kuroo and how naturally you guys got along together.

“So, grilled salted mackerel pike huh?” you asked.

“Yeah, this place is famous for it. It’s my favourite food,” he replied in between mouthfuls. “Docosahexaenoic acid is good for the brain, you know.”

“Wow, didn’t know you were such a nerd.”

“Better than someone who sleeps in class and drools on people.”

“HEY!”

Everything was just so easy with him, and your mind kept drifting back to the waitress’s words. Was this really a date? And more importantly, did you want it to be a date? You’d only just gotten to know him a few hours ago but the chemistry between you was undeniable. The warm feeling in your chest returned and honestly, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hold on to it a little longer. But lunch was coming to an end and you knew you’d have to let go.

“That was a great meal,” Kuroo said, satisfaction written all over his face. Thanks for the ‘date’ kid,” Kuroo chuckled at the term the waitress used. Your heart skipped a beat and you willed yourself not to blush again or give anything away.

“You’re welcome, old man,” you smiled innocently at the term you used. He’d kept calling you ‘kid’ so it was only fair that you returned the favour. You’d never admit it but you secretly liked it that he gave you a nickname. He smiled at you and shook his head at your silly antics.

Both of you stood outside the shop, not really knowing what else to say. You knew it was time to part ways since you’d already given him what you owed, but neither of you wanted to say goodbye.

“Well, I guess I’d better get back home… I’ve got to catch up on what I missed out during the lecture anyway,” you laughed nervously, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah, I guess this was a good bonding session, huh,” he grinned lopsidedly, but you could tell it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Even so, you laughed at his dorkiness. You were going to miss it.

“Well, I’ll get going then,” you said, turning to leave. “Oh and uh, sorry about your jacket,” you smiled sheepishly.

Kuroo perked up in sudden realisation. “Oh wait! Speaking of…” he closed the distance between you, rummaging through his bag and fishing out the black jacket he’d previously taken off. “Here,” he said, shoving it into your arms.

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “What’s this? A keepsake?” you snickered.

“Pfft, you wish,” he smirked. “It has your saliva on it. You wash it,” he said.

You cringed at the truth in his words and folded it over your arms. “Alright, I’ll wash it and give it back to you tomorrow.”

He grinned devilishly with a mischievous glint in his eye, and suddenly you understood his true intentions. You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot.

“Good. Now I’ve got an excuse to see you again tomorrow.”

Damn this clever nerd.

He’s good.

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[sugar-petals]

Your First Date With Baekhyun

:: bbh x sm apprentice!reader

words. 10k

warnings ⚠️ idol au hc, pining, brief angst, eventual car sex 👀, tw light injuries bc baek is clumsy in love, oral fixation, finger sucking, rough sex, making out

↳ NOTE. here we go again with the slow burn ✊🔥

It all starts with a divine act of clumsiness. 

An accident, completely out of the blue.

Who is surprised, what else could it be.

Ever since Baekhyun violently bumped into you from behind in the SM cafeteria to avoid Mark spilling red hot Americano on him… life has never been the same. 

That you walked in on him walking around mighty topless, with you wanting to clear the dance practice room many hours after work three times already does not help.

It’s always the same chain of events. He practices for longer than the others and gets sweaty, pulls off his shirt, pauses the music for a five-minute break. That’s unintentionally making it seem like everyone is already gone and the room is empty — you are deceived by it every time, and he almost gets a heart attack himself. We know how easily embarrassed Baekhyun is with showing skin by accident, outside of any shower stalls that is, let alone being caught stripping by himself. 

The first time he screams and you scream, off you run after quickly shutting the door. He tries his best to cover himself up with his hands, but to no avail. Lucas, Kai, and Johnny are no longer the only Magic Mikes under this rowdy fucking roof anymore. Even if you turned around fast, you saw more than a whole lot. 

You know how scared Baekhyun is by surprises, he gets all fidgety. Even after four whole minutes, he still sits with the music off breathing harder than he did from powering through four jointbreaking ligament-snappers I mean EXO choreographies. 

Lot of thoughts on his mind, lot of blood pumping through him. Baekhyun can hear a pretty hefty heartbeat pound in his ears. Eventually, he shakes his head at himself and does switch the music back on. But even that doesn’t distract him, nor can he concentrate on the moves. He keeps on asking himself — what the hell is wrong, what is this, why does he act like that? 

So, he ends up sneaking out of the room to call it a day. You were waiting in the nearby corridor to do the cleaning after he left. But now, you hide behind a shelf with props and miscellanea to avoid him. 

Of course, Baekhyun comes to grab a water bottle from said cupboard. Well, oh shit. He has his shorts on, and his calves are literally 20 inches away from you. He doesn’t see you crouching down there, but your pulse is going through the roof now, too. 

In fact, not even the days when Taeyong is walking around the company in a sexy as hell crop top could cause you such a panic. And that is the highest possible bar already. The average apprentice almost faints.

There’s pungent sweat that can knock you out of your socks… and then there’s sexy sweat scent mixed with men’s deodorant. Baekhyun leaves the latter after rushing out of the corridor. It’s even more intense in the practice room, if not absolutely unbearable. Oh boy. Pheromones, please no.

It’s almost as if you’re taking a bath in cologne. You’re getting nauseous and tingly from how it gets to you. You can hardly focus on scrubbing the mirror. If only the guy knew what horniness he is causing just by infusing the air, what the fucking fuck.

The second time, he jerks up again, but tries to explain himself. But so do you, ending up with a mutual, stuttering word spill in sync. 

Neither of you understood what the other was saying because you were too busy with a knee-jerk dialogue. Anxious all over, you quickly leave and eventually end up hiding behind the cupboard again. The new comeback track blasts even louder in the practice room. 

The third occasion, you no longer flinch at each other and laugh a little, mighty embarrassed still, but apologize with knowing eyes. This time, you enter the room after a small „Can I?“ and at least manage to clear some noodle boxes and unused towels from the backup dancers away, and pin a new schedule to the door. 

Baekhyun quickly pulls over his plain white tee and keeps on mumbling sorry, sorry like he’s Super Junior, practically scraping the ground with his hair because he bows so deep. 

You’ve never seen him this awkward. Instead of his usual one-liners and most effortless conversation starters, he resorts to switching on the music again after frantically looking everywhere but in your direction. He sings his lines right along, getting back into the routine’s intricate steps. 

Strange. 

Very strange.

All day, he is impulsive with lightening up just about any situation. One sentence, hook line and sinker; the mood alleviates. Not this time. He’s ignoring you now that you’re in the room.

The truth is: Baekhyun can’t help but set his pupper eyes on you in all other occasions already, especially when you’re busy at a distance. And it’s making him crazy. Next day at the cafeteria, he deliberately arrives late so he can queue way, way behind you. 

For the first time in all glorious epochs K-Pop history, he would let Sehun enter the line before him so he would have a shield. „Maknaes first“ is his brief comment, and Sehun thinks that Baekhyun must squarely confuse today with his birthday.

And fate says… sike. Two minutes later, a teary Mark rushes toward you and loudly apologizes for the Americano disaster. „Baekhyun was not being impolite, it was me!“

As he says just that, he turns, points right at Baekhyun’s tomato red head peeking out from behind Sehun’s shoulders, and bows to him. 

The whole cafeteria is witness, including Lee Soo Man.

And SHINee, who will have gossip material for five weeks because of this. Key is already taking notes. 

And BoA — who’s giggling because she’s seen it all in the business and knows exactly what’s going on with Baekhyun and you. Oh. Lord.

Baekhyun wants to sink into the ground right then and there. He’s been found out again. Of course he has to step out from his lair now and bow back to Mark, take the blame and explain the whole incident all over, and comfort him with a string of appeasing words. Which he hates for four reasons at the same time. He embarrassed Mark, himself, disturbed you the way he bumped into your back, and now you saw him hiding from… precisely you. Little does he know you did, too. 

Baekhyun quickly retreats to sit next to Sehun once again after Mark has calmed down and he, being the senior as always, has performed another 180�� bow to you in front of the entire staff and idol audience, causing his oversized shirt to slip downward, way to his armpits. 

Goodness gracious.

BoA is this close to shouting „get a room“ upon seeing Baekhyun stand in front of you with his stomach all bare until he has hastily tucked his shirt back into this place. Fast as it happens, you can’t hide your reaction face. 

Chanyeol, sitting at a nearby table, does a telling reaction noise himself, and you can tell he’s read the situation to a T. Even worse, he’s whistling. You can fool a lot of people, but not Park „Radar“ Chanyeol. He’s a himbo incarnate, but this guy’s emotional intelligence is too damn strong, and he knows Baekhyun inside out. Oh shit, man.

The next ten minutes are fraught with a weird, sonorous mumbling in the room. Lee Soo Man doesn’t really get it, thank God. But the meaning of Baekhyun silently cowering behind Sehun while eating his kimchi stew is more than obvious to half of the people around. Baekhyun never fucking acts like this, even when he’s sad.

It’s like something is pushing the two of you into humiliating situations like that ever since you started to work at SM since last May. Literally Baekhyun can’t stop apologizing to you all day because he’s suddenly clumsy or the strangest situations happen.

Nope, he doesn’t do it on purpose. But yes, he finds himself enjoying your attention. So what is he going to do? This keeps being stuck on his mind. Especially because half of EXO, NCT, and SuperM is asking him what the hell is going on in three raging group chats at once.

And you? I don’t have to tell you how it feels like when Baekhyun stumbles over to squarely plant his cutesy baby face into your back. Firmly wrapping his hands around your waist on top of that not to fall over entirely. That feeling is locked into your muscle memory. And now, seeing him stripped down for the fourth time already? Goodbye to your sleep.

Special thanks to a jittery Mark for making this first hug I mean collision out of nowhere happen. Just to be sure: Mark really didn’t spill his coffee on purpose, nor did Baekhyun want to bump into you this hard. And we know Mark’s reflexes are usually fast enough to save the day. But he was about to host his first variety show all by himself, so you can imagine how shaky and distracted he was. And nobody will resent him — this is only all about you and Baekhyun… being the most repressed motherfuckers.

Baekhyun constantly almost-crashing into you somewhere or basically crawling on the ground before you makes for a second very shaky guy. What the hell is pulling him towards you wherever he goes? It’s even worse than Minseok moving one inch and accidentally smacking Baekhyun in the face.

It just goes on and on.

Following the second cafeteria embarrassment, the next Friday after lunch, you run into each other at the ground floor elevator exit so you would drop your fries. Yeah, extra crispy ones, with the best mayonnaise. Baekyhun has been feeling so guilty about his curse at this point that he orders extra fries for you at the cafeteria two times a week with his card. Which makes Chanyeol know dear Eros struck particularly hard. Because if he didn’t care, Baekhyun would pay it five times a week like he does for NCT every now and then. But if he does it only two times, something is at stake. He doesn’t want it to be apparent.

Baekhyun can’t even look you in the eye when he puts them on your tray. Instead, he quickly bows three times in a row and then disappears. This guy is a small puddle of blush. 

Lee Soo Man cites him into his room to say what’s wrong soon, but all Baekhyun can blurt out is that he didn’t sleep well and the comeback song won’t get into his head. Which is not a direct lie, so.

Whatever you do, Baekhyun appears out of the blue and falls to your feet. Only two days later, he returns from shooting an MV and slips right in front of your office. Pretty much because his feet stumble over his own pants. You put the paperwork aside and check what the hell is going on outside. A dizzy Baekhyun straight-up hit his head at your door. He declines you helping him up because he knows that your touch is probably gonna make him fully insane. He walks around with a forehead patch during the comeback stage and people online think it’s the latest trend.

Somebody save this man.

The universe just keeps on arranging the silliest things to make shit happen, huh.

At this point, Baekhyun developing a full-blown apprentice crush is as obvious as Lucas being tall.

Now, the reality is. This man is Hitch, the Date Doctor. He notoriously handles crowds, can get along with anyone he’s put together with on camera, helps the other members to juggle their love life whenever they have a problem. Chen is probably a married man because of Baekhyun in one way or another. He isn’t really shy normally in his own words. But when it comes to his own crushes — classic case of everybody’s cupid who gives good advice they would need the most. 

That Baekhyun is helpless with anything that digs beneath the surface of his usual interactions will show to you very soon. There’s tough Baekhyun, there’s cute Baekhyun, and then there’s an utterly speechless little bean who has an internal meltdown when you do as much as take the stairs together. The difference is staggering. He’s fidgety, tense, makes himself even smaller and first and foremost: Is impressionable to an extreme.

In short: Baekhyun has fully converted into a fake maknae.

It’ll show in staff meeting conversations on trivial things about the schedule that he wing-mans everybody but himself when shit hits the fan. He stutters in your presence. Baek’s a mess. Chanyeol takes Baekhyun to the side and raises his brows at him at least five times a day, as in wanting to say: „Are you ever going to do something about it?“

Baekhyun dodges the answer each time and preoccupies himself with social media. Fans will later say that he hasn’t uploaded as many Twitter replies, Youtube videos, and Instagram snapshots in his whole career. And Baekhyun is already quite active online so you can tell how much he’s spamming.

Secretly… hoping you see his online activity. Which you do. 

You’ve memorized his five latest vlogs down to the cute little sound noises he’s making. Still, you hide behind the cupboard, and he is hiding behind an unsuspecting Johnny. Because Sehun is already grumbling about becoming a human shield, and Chanyeol would tease Baekhyun to the hell and back whenever you’re around.

Why does all of that happen? Why is he trying to escape? 

The answer is, Baekhyun feels an overpowering respect towards you. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from, it’s something you exude. To the point where he isn’t able to clown you the way he does with others. It’s literally that bad.

On top of that, Baekhyun is frustrated that whatever extroversion he can switch on during broadcasts, fan meets, and with the other members is suddenly failing him. He tries hard to fall back to his usual humor, but you being around makes him act much more erratic. And, surprisingly reserved, believe it or not.

Eye contact will make him break whatever character he’s trying to tune into for the sake of keeping it together. The exact opposite will happen. All the blushing and boiling hot sweat gives him away. Your own heated af face he doesn’t even notice.

In his mind, he’s going through any possible way of mannerisms to get your attention all while not embarrassing himself. He gives confident SuperM leader Baekhyun a shot, comedian Baekhyun, too, and he will don a pokerfaced version of himself as a last option whenever you are close. 

All unsuccessfully. He can’t keep the façade for long; he knows he’s acting strange and inconsistent that way. Do you even realize what you merely sitting in the same practice room is doing to this guy?  

As you can tell…

It’s up to you to hit on him. Finding an unmistakable balance between being breathtakingly forward and overly subtle. The right way to ask him out is somewhere in between. The way you gauge it, Baekhyun is turned off by all kinds of brazen approaches, but doesn’t want to be nudged with satin gloves and feathers either.

However, you end up playing too lowkey at first try because you’re just as nervous. You think, maybe it’s good to find out how interested in me he will admit he is. Which, given how much he tries to conceal his feelings, turns out to be a difficult idea.

And — Isn’t is crystal clear he likes you a whole lot by the way he tries to retreat from everyone but you? Recently, fleeing to stand behind Lucas. Who has the most hiding surface and won’t question what Baekhyun is doing there all the time, unlike Johnny.

So, how do you learn that your plan is a bad idea? You try to involve yourself in NCT’s Friday night truth-or-dare where Baekhyun always joins to mess with everyone.

But that weekend, he interestingly excuses himself to „practice English, it’s urgent!“. Off he goes as soon as he sees that you are part of the lineup, looking like he’s seen a ghost. 

So, that mission failed. You get Taeyong, Haechan, and Yuta twerking against you at the same time while wearing sailor moon outfits as a dare instead. 

However: You still learned something from this. The way that even Haechan’s wild gyrating and arguably great ass did not have a single effect on you tells you that you really want someone else really damn bad. Hell, if Yuta Nakamoto winds against you and you feel nothing—

And, something else has become apparent to you.

Professional he is, Baekhyun establishes rapport even with people he dislikes or feels neutral about, but when his more vulnerable feelings are in the game, he runs from them. 

Beside Chanyeol and BoA, you’re smart enough to begin seeing what clockwork ticks inside of him. When Baekhyun doesn’t try to get close to someone that’s around him so frequently, something is mighty wrong and his opinion about that someone must be an intense one. And it’s not because he hates that person, the opposite is the case. 

He’s almost less afraid of you than his worries of ruining it. 

But through what, you’re wondering, seriously. 

On the other hand, you get why Baekhyun keeps a viable distance. He knows it’s difficult to be associated with him in the way he wishes you were. Since people were looking at him and you so strange in the cafeteria, he even stopped practicing in the after hours. 

Two weeks later, he even quits buying you fries for lunch and eats in the recording studio instead. Chanyeol remains correct: Much is at stake.

After the truth-or-dare fail, you sit down in sobriety and go through your options. You get all sorts of grand ideas to reveal your feelings, but dismiss the majority of it. You have to start small, really small. This needs the utmost care. Especially because you don’t want to compromise him by accident any further, nor are you anywhere near as ballsy as you believe someone hitting on Byun Baekhyun needs to be. 

Truth be told: BoA would kick your ass for thinking that. And letting so many opportunities pass, as if you aren’t beating yourself up for it enough. Idol mode Baekhyun, well, he would be hard to approach indeed. But what is currently going on… he’s literally showing you his underbelly. He’s begging you to do something.

That he avoids even the lightest touch: More than telling to BoA’s knowing eye. He would be so easy to sway with just one sentence. She knows that at this point, Baekhyun is desperate. His yes would come so fast. You’re far from having faith in this. But you still try. You want this man.

Eventually, you rack your brain for anything understated you could do. 

Then, you get the idea. 

After a schedule briefing, Baekhyun recently said he dearly wishes he could eat fried noodles in the early evening because he’s craving something savory, meanwhile flashing a split-second glance at you. Maybe… You can discreetly bridge the gap by getting him food.

You’re part responsible for doing things like that in the company already so nobody will question you driving around with your little motorbike. 

If you think about it: That’s a good excuse to approach him frequently and visit his apartment. The move is calculated, but it’s what the situation requires. You can’t tell how Baekhyun will react, but if he looked at you this way, it’s worth a shot.

And so, you dare the impossible. You show up with a deliberately small portion of noodles after the last comeback stage, knock twice. He does open. You’re frozen up.

Uttering a hopefully neutral „You said you wanted this. I’ll also bring it tomorrow if you want,“ and then drive off again without even waiting for a reply from a very surprised-looking Baekhyun in PJs. 

Sweating like crazy, thank God your helmet and the upcoming dark of the night was hiding your red cheeks. Shit man, that was robotic as fuck! is what you’re thinking for the entire ride home. Another fail, you sure won’t return tomorrow. Now you can’t look him in the eye, either.

Meanwhile: 

The meal not only saves the day of Baekhyun’s usually very lackluster diet mood that comes out when he is by himself. It also makes him flustered and grateful, curling up on his couch. He couldn’t even remotely try to say no out of politeness or concerns for his food plan. Baekhyun breaks the chopsticks right away after closing the door. Today, his dog’s with him. Mongryong excitedly jumps up and down next to Baekhyun. Your visit was short and sweet, but it made two beans very happy.

In fact, he rips open the box and shoves a quarter of the content into his mouth in the blink of an eye. It’s not just how hungry he is. He’s also overwhelmed that you came to his house. He feels like it’d be the highest level of disrespect to throw it away to begin with, no matter how spartan his eating habits are supposed to be. 

He almost views this little take-out box as a part of you. He imagines how you listened to him talk, decided to drop by, bought it with your own money, and carried it all the way to him. All that extra effort and attention he spins back and forth in his head for the whole next week.

And, on the spot, Baekhyun is so taken aback that he starts deep cleaning his apartment at midnight as soon as he finishes his noodles. 

To your own initial shock, he also drops an envelope with money under your office door the next day. And you thought someone was sending threats.

You get the underlying message, though. This is something just between the two of you, and the envelope is a yes. For another meal. Actually, more than that. There are 30 sorted bills in it, each to buy one box since he knows where you get the food from and what the standard price is. 

Payment for one month in advance. Meetings for one month in advance. This fucker. 

And you thought your sweaty scene at his apartment left him confused or weirded out. Nope, he decided he wants this times thirty. Something you have to let sink in.

The next day you drive along at the same time, there’s nobody there. 

Because Baekhyun has left the door open. Now you can’t just speed away again. Nor do you really want to, for God’s sake. 

After putting your helmet down in the small entrance room, you find an anxiously waiting Baekhyun on the extremely cleaned up living room couch, sitting there with fidgeting feet like it’s a porn casting. 

The tension could kill. You put the box on the table before him like it’s England’s Crown Jewels. You want to calm him down so desperately, but don’t know how.

Given his sparkly eyes set on the food, that he wants to devour what you brought him right away is not hard to overlook. But he still seems hesitant. Insecure. Baekhyun doesn’t manage to say a full word which is the most surreal thing. You work up your voice and pass him the chopsticks in their paper packaging. „Pig out. You didn’t eat since 7AM.“

Again, he breaks the chopsticks. Trying hard not to do it too fast.

You sit opposite to him and revert back to professional mode. Talking about statistics from the comeback that Baekhyun hummingly acknowledges the way he does when you talk to EXO in meetings. 

He stuffs himself like his life depends on it. No stable eye contact from him. 

Both of you know that it’s not what you want to say. But even ten minutes in: Nothing about the cafeteria, the fries, the envelope, the topless incident, the forehead patch, nothing. Just you going on about details from work and him listening, nodding, chewing, making brief little remarks and using all his standard corporate phrases. „Ah, yes, EXO surely benefits from that.“ But it’s a start. You begin small. 

So far, so good. With every evening, the conversation becomes more and more two-sided and the meals bigger. A second envelope soon enters your office, covering the extra costs for the XXL boxes, your fuel, and another month worth of meals. Note: Only one and a half weeks in. 

Fuck, you got yourself into something big. Is it because his dog likes you?

You are starting to like babying him like that, even if you both keep it serious. Unusually so, but at least you don’t get into any more accidents with that suspense off your either shoulders. 

It’s not like that cute little face would leave you any chance in the first place. Baekhyun smiles shyly around you. His big laugh is sweeping, but the small things… lethal. Absolutely lethal.

His manager doesn’t like it, but his genius idol’s mochi factor is increasing since you bring him spicy, richer foods. Baekhyun declines most snacks he’s offered at work, hardly eats up at the cafeteria and gives it to Foodcas Xuxi instead, and even the stylists wished he would gain more weight without any results in their convincing acts. But when you bring him a large portion of extra al dente spaghetti or — as of recently — self-made black bean noodles, Baekhyun would consider it rude not to follow the call of the carbs. 

Interesting.

He eats even more aggressively when he knows you made the food yourself. 

Quickly enough, he pays either for take-out or ingredients meant for not one, but two people. You usually eat a little earlier than he does, but you would not trade the best luxury meal in the world eaten by yourself with being together in Baekhyun’s flat. To the average Joe, this would be the biggest hassle, but to you… there’s no way you can get enough of being around him so privately. You enjoy taking the time to buy food for him. Taking the time in general.

You’re not the only one.

I don’t have to tell you how Baekhyun has to fight getting a vicious hard-on with sitting opposite to you with your motorcycling jacket peeled down to the hip, right inside a staring-not staring-staring-not staring match while you both slurp on your noodle soup pretending to be apprentice and idol.

It’s… bizarre. And hot. And bizarre. And frustrating.

You both don’t know where to take all of this. You end up making it a rock-solid daily routine, but not going any further than that because you are afraid. The excuse: Never change a running system.

In the meantime, Baekhyun works out even more. Not to compensate for the calories or to get rid of the increasingly chubby cheeks. Nope, it’s to impress you and show his fitness, plain and simple. At times, the music once again blasts in the practice room after everyone left. You come in to clear the room with Baekhyun in one of his very tight tank tops. 

You greet each other softly smiling. The familiarity really does begin to show. While you sort and organize, he writes you a little note on what to get for food tonight. He scribbles a little „:3“ emoji underneath. 

You think about that for at least two hours before you drive to his apartment.

So, yeah. Something is going on with him regardless of both of you trying to keep your routine stable and CIA-level secret. 

He finds himself cringeworthy when he carries seven stacked up chairs to a group meeting at once just because you’re attending. But something in him can’t help it, for the love of God. At least in this regard, he thinks, something is running on autopilot in terms of flirting methods. Meaning, he really does hide less and less. 

Meanwhile, Lucas’ eyes are falling out because Baekhyun is mustering new levels of strength nobody suspected he had. In the most random situations, even. Baekhyun’s fitness trainer is also living one hell of a life because his protégée is so eager these days. Mastering everything from weights to pilates. Hormones are one hell of a drug.

Kai frequently remarks that Baekhyun is different. „He’s nagging much less, what’s going on, why, why!“ he says to Taemin on the regular, and they invent all kinds of theories.

Since Baekhyun doesn’t want to miss out on your daily evening visit nor spend 8 hours in the gym, that means: He increases the intensity of the work-outs. For two and a half weeks, he is completely knocked out afterwards.

And so… it happens.

Baekhyun falls asleep before your visit. The door he has opened beforehand as always, but you enter a dim room with dozing Baekhyun splayed on the bed in his red carpet outfit from earlier that day. He worked out in the morning, did some hosting, talked his soul out in an interview, attended an award show, drove home, and eventually collapsed in the sheets. Lights out.

You put the rice box and cake slice you brought along on his desk. He looks so cute when he dozes, but you also hate disturbing his sleepy angel hours. Especially because you know how worn-out his schedule has left him and you feel sorry for it. 

You feel weird for standing there with your take-out and want to hurry outside as fast as possible, but leave a note. 

For the first time in weeks, you eat dinner in your own flat.

After forcefully waking up at 3AM due to his usual sleep cycle being off balance, Baekhyun falls into a spiral of regrets. Once it dawns on him what time it is and he must have missed your visit, he buries his face in his palms sitting at the edge of the bed. 

He resents himself for neither cleaning up his bedroom properly nor staying awake even more so, no matter how eventful his day was. He imagines how you must have seen him sleep, probably in the most humiliating, unflattering position and with terrible hair, judging him for being rude, forgetful, unattractive, messy, and probably a thousand other things.

Until… he finds the note. That one gives him a second almost-heart attack, but an adrenaline-fueled one this time. He stumbles back onto his bed and reads it twenty times over.

„Rest well and dig in. Don’t worry. Text if you’re okay. 03304 68010113.“

After three typos in your number, almost choking on cold rice because he eats so passionately, and several minutes of going back and forth on sending something, he kicks his own ass and writes a little „I’m ok, I’m very very sorry! I’m an idiot 😭“. After you reply that he has no reason to apologize, he rambles on about how he wishes that he’s not being an inconvenience to you with a whole row of sad and dejected emojis. 

You hate that Baekhyun feels put on the spot and obliged because of you this way and try to think hard about how to solve the dilemma. You won’t try to stop the rain of his apologies by telling him to calm down because you know it’ll make it worse, and instead decide it’s time to get going.

The opportunity is now, and there’s only one.

‚So, I have an idea—“

Going to the groovy little underground pizza restaurant downtown is something that Baekhyun immediately accepts as a suggestion. He wants to compensate for his dozing, but he also knows that this is a whopping chance more than anything.

And… a covert first date. 

He knows that’s what it is. It’s about leveling up now.

Before you can write that you’ll treat him and he can relax, he gets firm with insisting that you will pay not a single dime. You know that it’s not just his overworking conscience speaking. It’s also the only way Baekhyun gets an occasion to express that he takes this very seriously via text. 

That he wants to repay you and aims to get the most out of meeting up is something you realize when he steps out of the wardrobe room the next evening after everyone in the company has gone home. 

The stylists he has told that he needs to try this particular outfit on for some time to get used to it. „I need to dance in this, so.“

Actually, it is meant for EXO performing at the Oscars next week, but he got away with the excuse and a promise to take care. 

And… he really did the rest of the styling all by himself. He’s turned into a glamorous neat freak. Every shiny hair glued into its desired place, freshly dyed honey blonde with soft brunette roots. 

In fact, who walks at you is a wholly different Baekhyun in a dark, reddish-violet satin suit, pointy black shoes, matte black tie, mature sultry eye shadow, black square sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his signature lipstick, with a distinct statement tote bag, and black lace socks. I repeat: Lace. This is the fanciest anybody has ever headed to eat $6.50 pizza at a tube station. I mean wow, just wow. The tailored shoulders and how tight the tux cinches in at the waist is on par with Kai’s Obsession crop top. 

Even the much more expensive award show outfit from last week looks like a potato sack compared to how much he dolled himself up and reinvented literally every inch about himself. Like you have to prevent yourself from drooling.

Yep. He. Means. Business.

Funnily enough, Baekhyun realizes his zeal and just how much he is trying to impress you at all costs when you turn up with your standard khaki trench coat, bunny print umbrella, and casual white sneakers that have seen World War 1 and 2. You know, just the way you always come to his apartment and the way it’s inconspicuous. 

Going by his face… he starts to overthink his esteem. You can see how his expression becomes mortified. You promptly decide to put an end to his self-conscious back and forth through taking him by the hand. 

„You’re the best-looking man in the world and I’m asking you for a date. Are you comin’ or are you not?“

You then make it particularly clear to him that if anything, this right in front of you is very much authentic Baekhyun and not someone else you’re in for after all. And, that you’re both in your genuine form tonight the way it’s gotta be, the way you know each other and the reason why you decided to do this. Boom.

Four-step Greek style sermon for tonight: Delivered.

Now he’s gaping at you too much to beat himself up. That mission is very much accomplished. Modern problems apparently require ancient rhetoric. You’re in a kick-ass mood tonight. I dunno, anybody would be, Baekhyun’s accentuated sense of style has the historic potential to make girls reckless.

Baekhyun’s hand is heated like an Icelandic geyser and his heartbeat rate would make the average rabbit look like an amateur. Believe it or not — it’s the first time you’re deliberately touching. It’s ridiculous.

You head to the company garage, he churns out five jokes in a row on how he must look like a Korean Elton John on the way to his best-of concert, you laugh… Baekhyun feels better. Three times as nervous compared to when you usually come to his flat, but better nevertheless. And he drives, so. 

He feels like he’s catching up and giving something back, no matter that you feel he doesn’t have to, but to him, it’s important. 

You joke back to him how it’s a little bit funny — Elton John pun intended — that you saw every inch of Baekhyun’s apartment at this point already but this is the first date. The world is upside down, but it’s SM Entertainment, so. Things get started in different ways, but they do.

That realization is getting to him, too. Baekhyun’s peacock alter ego emerges to bolt over the motorway like a lovedrunk Lewis Hamilton with a foot glued to the gas pedal, but also checks fifty times for how you feel in the passenger seat. Asking about how you like it, if the A/C is set to how you want it, whether your seat is tilted the way you enjoy it. Damn, he really is on edge. 

On top of that, said alter ego maneuvers him right into a 3-kilometer outer ring traffic jam before his innocent self even realizes it. More time to chat… more time to sit so close… more time you get to savor the comfort of his luxurious car. So that was a Freudian slip with a steering wheel right there.

You already know that Baekhyun has never tried as hard to make somebody like him. You compliment his taste in cars vice versa to take that pressure off before he turns into a nervous wreck entirely. And then, also adding that you could get used to this which makes Baekhyun feel like a billion Won. His eyes are downcast, his cheeks are beaming. Figures, light superpowers and such, we know the deal.

Meanwhile, that you really like him already and for a long time is something you challenge yourself to make more than apparent to him. If he’s still this desperate about pleasing you and unsure about how he comes across, there’s some work to do. This guy needs a sign. A football field-sized one. If Baekhyun’s demon is his self-worth tonight, yours is being a lot more demonstrative. You’ve been far too indirect with him all day every day.

That you’re outside of both your professional spheres actually helps: Big fucking time.

Easing him into a conversation happens surprisingly smooth when you recount visiting his apartment and seeing him sleep so beautifully. Which you say was the most gratifying thing which is the truth. It’s been on his mind, hearing about your relief makes a lot of things plague him less. 

You also add how you enjoy bringing him food just because. That he’s nice and good company, even when he sleeps. That assures Baekhyun and makes him laugh.

And yes. He ends up serenading you throughout the entire traffic jam. And yes. When Baekhyun is in love, his singing is particularly on point. You can hear the cherry on top in his registers. No need for the stereo, you can ask him to sing any song you like. 

The traffic jam disperses after 20 minutes, Baekhyun has interpreted your entire favorite playlist at this point. Arriving feels like way too soon. 

You put your trench coat over Baekhyun while he exits the car. There’s hardly anyone around in this part of the town but who knows, making sure not to mess up his hair in the process. Both of you hurry to the stairs leading underground. Meanwhile, the car is parked quite stealthily behind a closed-down fish restaurant with dusty windows.

It feels good to walk around with Baekhyun right by your side. 

The surroundings are cluttered with trash and only few people wait at the tube station that opens up before you with every step downwards. It’s actually perfect as a getaway. There are mostly older businessmen on shift at first glance. 

It’s colder out in the open and surrounded by surfaces of concrete, the car was like a spa by comparison. Baekhyun takes the initiative to put the trench coat back onto your shoulders. You feel flattered and you smile at each other, and walk on with synchronized steps. The pizza bar is almost within sight. In the meantime, the digital board announces the tube arriving in five minutes. He takes your hand.

And then… some real bullshit goes down.

A group of seven scraggly-looking teens lounge on a bench, roughly 200 meters before the pizza bistro. You have to pass the bench close-by given how narrow the walking space next to the train tracks is. 

One of them, the tallest of the bunch, coarsely shouts at you. „How much did that prostitute cost and where does he keep his money, huh?“ He sticks his wriggling tongue out right along. The others are ogling Baekhyun’s shoes and chest pockets, preying and laughing and sneering. It dawns on you that you should’ve asked for one more song in the car.

The mood tips. One of the boys sitting on the left side of the bench starts fiddling with a 3-inch switchblade. And then, something flicks the switch inside you, too. Your Kyoong-protect-o-meter goes through the roof faster than Baekhyun can get his car to the speed limit. 

Cue She-Hulk transformation. In an onslaught of your inner wrestling diva claiming her rights, you take matters into your own hands by hurling Baekhyun’s glitzy designer bag at the guy’s surprised face. Sorry Versace, it had to be done. The whole group gasps out loud. While they’re still caught off guard, you go on to lunge forward and furiously whack greasy knife guy and two other approaching attackers with your Roger fucking Rabbit umbrella using a windmill-motion martial arts technique you came up with from scratch. Baekhyun doesn’t even have to duck… being smol has its advantages. 

The switchblade is sent flying into a bin. Point landing. You proceed to rip into the group to helicopter your improvised weapon in circles until it threatens to plow down the better of them and they back away squealing and pleading. Britney would be so damn proud of you, I’m telling ya.

Needless to say, the mortally terrified group runs and disperses into the arriving tube, probably booking their therapist appointments for Monday morning already. You pick up the bag for Baekhyun a little breathless, dust it off, and say a prayer. Holy shit. 

What the hell just happened. Literally, what the fucking fuck.

An entirely wide-eyed Baekhyun still can’t believe that a whole group of sleazy guys twice as tall as him took an unhinged windmill beating by you to prevent a robbery, and meanwhile he is the martial arts champion. Like, hello? He’s been a Hapkido instructor with several gold medals. How many black belts does the guy have again? He could mow down fifty of that kind and pulverize anyone of them with a mere NCT-style kick. This is ridiculous. He’s mighty impressed.

A few businessmen at the station are looking at you from afar with open mouths. You wave and give a thumbs up signalling all is okay. The security personnel reviewing the CCTV the next day is down for a ride. You hope that there are no headlines with pictures of this. Tube brats get their ass busted by cartoon bunny at 2:15 AM. K-Pop star Baekhyun defended by mysterious umbrella wielder gone wild.

You take a deep breath, brush off your coat. „Um. Moving on I guess.“ Then, interlink arms with Baekhyun, strolling on toward the restaurant. Looking around everywhere, still a little shocked. Walking off your relief helps, as is looking forward to eating. Damn, you do outrageous things when you’re hungry.

The restaurant is the size of the practice room at best, lit with white neon and decorated with Italian flags in every corner. The empty seats are designed like in an American diner from the 80s.

The lanky six-foot-something waiter, Luigi Roberto Maranello Salvatore (his nameplate is really in-depth about this), hurries to the door when he sees how Baekhyun is dressed and probably thinks the King of Korea just arrived. Which he, in fact, did, but that’s beside the point. 

You sit at the very back and get comfortable after breaking your last sweat. An enthusiastic Luigi presents to you the latest ‚delicious couple menu options’ and promises to use the best toppings he can offer. You instantly trust him, Luigi has the most accurate mustache you’ve ever seen.

Baekhyun and you share a huge plate of the curiously named ‚Pizza Puppy Love‘  that might be better described as a circle-shaped late night gala buffet. You dig in because damn, fighting thugs makes hungry, and Baekhyun stuffs himself given how it’s his favorite meal. Luigi sees that you are avid eaters and way too busy looking at each other, so he disappears in the kitchen, proud of setting the mood just perfectly.

In the meantime, Baekhyun says that he thinks of hiring you as a sasaeng protection machine. You muse how the umbrella is sturdier than you thought and you wouldn’t hesitate to use it again now that you think about it. Being Baekhyun’s Jarvis is not a bad thought, actually. Beating up rascals for him is your newly discovered love language.

In fact: Whatever took over inside of you and made you lose your chill, Baekhyun is mighty curious about. He thinks that was very sexy. You get the feeling that this guy could like dangerous women. He might have picked that up from Taemin, credits to him.

After Baekhyun has dramatically recounted the umbrella incident at least five times, the conversation goes on about your embarrassing hiding stories, how hilariously over- and underdressed you are as a unit, and you teasing him about „speeding on the highway, are we“. Baekhyun teases you back about how you acted like his manager with your trench coat over his head. He kind of has a point and you call it a tie.

Seeing Baekhyun all full with his beloved pizza and acting so carefree in his Oscar suit is a cute sight. You take the liberty to cut a particularly large slice out of the puppy pizza UFO and feed him. 

If it’s a couple menu, you gotta act like it.

Baekhyun is making some mighty heart eyes at you, and so — you decide to take it a little further. This whole fight thing made you forget you’re on a goddamn date after… a whole year of eyefucking and that it’s about time to close the gap.

Luigi is wholly busy making order in the kitchen and Baekhyun has some tomato sauce stuck at the side of his mouth. Convenient. You take the chance to wipe it off with the tip of your right digit. 

He realizes what you’re doing and promptly grabs your hand to keep it right where it is. Uh-oh. His tongue darts out, he licks right across your finger. To top it off, he starts to suck it, too. With a typical nonchalance. Seeing how you almost combust, he takes another finger into his hot mouth. And sucks a little more. His lipstick smudges onto your hand. His eyes are like hot coals and the pupils are all blown. Oh my, my, my. 

If you’re just playing, don’t you ever give Baekhyun anything to escalate on like that, ever. The way you were ready to knock down the seven guys, he is ready to get physical once the first step is done. Though, the thing is. You’re not playing. It’s exactly the type of fodder that you’ve been craving to give him. Baekhyun’s oral fixation is something else.

The rest of the pizza is gone in five minutes…

…and Luigi gets the tip of his life.

You walk to the car in much faster steps than before. Even if it’s later than late, nobody is around anymore except a sleeping beggar on the other side of the station. No danger in sight whatsoever. There’s a different reason to get going like that this time and there’s no way you can mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming.

Back to the fish restaurant, back to the car spa. Nobody on the streets, anywhere. This night, Baekhyun does not feel even remotely tired, though.

After you put your umbrella in the trunk — you will honor it much more from now on — the driver’s and passenger’s seat stay empty for half an hour and a little more. Now, the actual stereo is on. There’s a lot to catch up with on the backseat.

Baekhyun puts Delight on repeat, and queues City Lights just because. Guy knows what good music and singing sounds like. You interlock hands and call him pretty. Baekhyun is flustered, but all the more eager. 

It takes barely a minute until you get serious with making out on top of him and grind on his lap like the world ends. The satiny fabric is too tempting not to gyrate all over it in your jeans. Lord knows his legs are great. You know what you signed up for. Those thighs are so delicious to straddle, you can’t even imagine. 

Baekhyun gazes at you so intently and ready, whispering his little you-can-do-anythings and tell-me-all-you-wants, it’s like magic.

To top it off, kissing his little pouty lips has got to be the best thing, running your hands through his sexy hair — even more so. Your mouth and fingers have been begging you to do this. Begging. 

From there, your hands go places. His neatly razored nape of the neck, his waist, the chest. His suit, all that expensive fabric, his gentle skin, it’s so nice to the touch. He smells so hot. Bergamot, cinnamon, and sweet, deep, rich and soothing sandalwood. „Girl, I’m your Candy“ gets a whole new meaning. Practice room memories. As if you aren’t wet enough already. 

By the last minute of the second track, Baekhyun is already hooked kissing your neck and does some very daring acrobatics with his tongue. And you thought the pizza would satiate him. Nope, he eats you up like a whole salad bowl of black bean noodles with three pounds kimchi and ten fried eggs stacked on top. In his own words I mean lyrics: Game over.

The desperation and nervosity adds even more sloppiness and hunger. These have got to be the lewdest slurping and sucking noises you’ve ever heard. You can’t help but curse the ugliest things. Something’s pretty damn hard through the front of his tux already. 

Baekhyun feels that you feel it and the kissing becomes even more frantic. His whole body says: Grind more. Please. Please.

By the time the fourth track starts, Baekhyun’s entirely wet mouth wanders upward. Here goes the French kissing madness. You glide your hips back and forth on his bulge, and his tongue is already winding inside of you like it’s advanced singing lessons. It’s so unreal that you have to grab hold of his upper arms to stay in place. Shit, this guy. 

You can tell that this… is his absolute forte. Nobody can fuck with Baekhyun when it comes to outrageous mouth and throat technique. Your tongue gets a sense of how confident he is in his lip service and works his way into it. Now you know how it feels when Byun Baekhyun pays back your attention. Holy Luigi’s Cannoli, he has so much fun. Way, way too much fun. Like Sir, this is a Wendy’s.

And that’s the last damn straw. Really, the last one. You can’t do this shit anymore. You ask for condoms. 

After freezing up for at least ten seconds, he nods his little head about ten times in a row. It’s as if he can’t actually believe it and didn’t just kiss the shit out of you with the hardest dick in history.

„Okay, I’ll—“

Baekhyun keeps them in a yellow puppy-shaped bag under the driver’s seat and takes three torturous minutes to get them from there since it’s underneath and behind other random things. Which means you get to look at his ass for said time because he is bent forward between the two front seats. It’s not like you’ve never seen Baekhyun from behind, but never this close nor in a suit as tight since he usually wears baggy things. So. He’s not just big in the front, then. For his build? That is Korea’s ass.

And the condoms? You expected they were in his tote or his suit within one reach and rip. Nope, Baekhyun did not leave the company building with intentions. He’s been managing this raging boner for a whole year and did not make any moves on you in his apartment where he could have had you on any available surface in two minutes. Baekhyun wasn’t close to even remotely ask for literally anything. He just sat there on the couch with restless legs, ruffled hair, and an open mouth while hearing you talk. You don’t want to imagine how intensely he must have gotten off. Which he, in fact, did. 

He didn’t deliberately plan sex in a specific place for the first date either. Instead, he was prepared for— what exactly? A slight eventuality? Now that you think about it: Going by how he dressed himself, what Baekhyun probably thought he could get out of this was: A compliment. Even if all of your evening visits were nothing but hardcore sexual tension and this was the chance to bring that to an end. Let that sink in.

This guy’s self-control is not only astronomical, but also completely astounding given his usual character. In fact, you thought he would be entirely sovereign with this. How could he not? He’s Baekhyun!

Going by all that… You conclude that Baekhyun must really feel like he does not deserve you. His shame and self-denial must go through the roof. Given how his deeper insecurities have been in plain sight, it actually makes sense. Looks like you’re the one bringing them out, whatever it is that you do. It’s pretty tough knowing that you rouse something as vulnerable in him but it’s as good as it is bad. You find him very brave and incredible for letting it show. Honestly? It’s better than pushing through all of this pretending.

Plus — You really must have given him the impression that he can look but not ever touch. While that’s the entire opposite of what you want. 

To be fair: Having Baekhyun openly touch you in the company would have been a dangerous act. Even more so than say, you touching him, (which would have been somewhat possible, look at stylists and managers casually or work-relatedly doing skinship). Because that means that the availability his profession suggests to the world is no longer a thing and his mind is set on one person. Which, in his field, is social death. 

That’s why Baekhyun could only ever touch you by virtue of circumstances and whatever higher forces arranging accidents where he bumped into you. Talk about indirect ways. The universe gave you what you wanted, but in a way where there was always the excuse of bad luck and no possibility of other people finding out about your feelings. Risky love breeds risky circumstances.

The same with showing his body or knocking at your door to get your attention. He knows he can’t do that, can’t ask for it. So what happens? You accidentally walk in on him, or he crashes against your office entrance after slipping.

The same with treating you, spending time together, getting taken care of by you. Baekhyun found himself wishing for it. So it happened that you spilled your fries and he bought them for you all over, and he was begging for fried noodles so the opportunity to meet surprisingly came about. The accidents themselves both of you didn’t want nor deliberately stage, but you very much wanted the results of them. Directly you could not express your feelings, not even Baekhyun. That’s how it all came to be and now you see just how much he wants to be close to you in so many ways.

That he feels ashamed and undeserving — that shocks the living hell out of you. 

So, all right then, keeper. Time to show you otherwise. 

It’s crazy how he thinks you’re the one off limits and not him. Then again, he’s not the guy with the savage umbrella technique.

Since his hand is too shaky, you slip one on him and start to ride him without any further ado. You’re already leaking so what’s left to fiddle around about. No wasting any time here. 

The deal is as good as sealed. He feels fucking great inside of you and his wide eyes are the most rewarding thing. Whatever dimension Baekhyun just broke through, the level of whipped is not possible to be described with any human words. His hands are roaming over you pretty much without aim, you can tell your body is too much for him.

After he’s begging you to do it roughly, you grab him by the collar and fuck his soul out until he’s all gasping because his dick hurts. The song’s called Are You Ridin’ with good reason.

Baekhyun’s brains are long screwed out at this point, if not reduced to absolute green and purple jello. Is there actually any mind to lose at this point after you had your fingers in his mouth? Like literally, his favorite thing? Probably not. 

He bites down into his sleeve. Baekhyun is all knocked out by you by the time you get to your second orgasm, and reclines on the backseat bench to starfish the rest of the thing with his mouth hanging open at you. Hormone overload. His entire body shut down except the will to keep it up and not come. Yum, he is fit. Where he takes that godly strength from, only higher powers can tell. The Tree of Life, Zeus, Ten Chittaphon, I don’t know. 

He just has the kind of dick you can really bounce on. Really. Fucking. Hard. You are one spark of insanity close to run on autopilot. I don’t think anybody’s growled like this on him before. Nor was Baekhyun’s cock this close to falling right off, ever. 

This is not sex, it’s a crazy as fuck pounding, with Baekhyun on the verge of being blacked out with drool on his chin and his eyes rolling back. His fingers are absentmindedly trailing down your upper back and all he can utter is a small, yearning „please, please“ and gritting „don’t stop, please don’t stop…“ between his teeth. And hell, you have not a single reason to. Cue Captain America, I can do this all day.

When other people say smashing, whatever they’re referring to is not as smash as this. This must be the dirtiest, wettest slapping noise you’ve ever heard, and Baekhyun’s entirely uncontrolled moans will be forever etched into your memory. So melodic, so goddamn excited and desperate and all fucked out. He’s groaning so well, it’s like it’s meant for you.

By the third time you come, he’s crying and whining and has to cover his mouth not to scream out loud. You have no idea what your body is doing, but whatever it is, it’s taking Baekhyun out. Even you tire after some time, but you keep going. You imagine that every thrust is the meal and attention you wanna give to him.

That’s a lot of fucking and edging you get done in half an hour. Baekhyun’s tongue is hanging out afterwards and you went through a whopping three condoms. So much frustration finally released. Baekhyun’s gonna be emptier than Suho’s wallet after Sehun ordered a lifetime supply of bubble tea. 

You squarely avoid oozing your own cum onto his backseat with one hand. Good lord that creampie would ruin everything if he didn’t wear a condom. You’ve come a long way since colliding in the cafeteria, not gonna lie.

And thank God you’re not fucking somewhere in the company and the Audi is close to soundproof because this guy is LOUD. You need some good eardrums to handle these moans. Unhinged is an understatement. If this becomes a contest outwhoring each other, he’d win by a landslide. 

By the time you slip off, Baekhyun is on the verge to the dreamland, you milked every last drop out of him. Which means… 

…you get to drive an expensive as fuck Audi through Seoul. Your beatdown with the tube thugs you try to refrain from boasting about, but this one you are tempted to brag about to yourself for the next week. Well, in your mind. Just a little bit. It’s a great car. And you feel giddy in your body all over. That’s what sex with Baekhyun does to you. 

Seoul traffic is tame around this time. Half in his sleep, Baekhyun hums and sings on the driver’s seat. He’s all sober, but you made the guy act a lil’ drunk, huh. In his element, he talks and talks and talks and talks a little more. Then, does his tiny 'ㅅ' pup face and dozes for half the ride. Sleeping angel hours.

You can’t really scold him for passing out so fast in the slightest. As always, he went who knows how many extra miles just for you. That includes vowing to hand-wash his Oscars suit because it’s fucking ruined. Since the stylists are guaranteed to flame him, you send the fashion department a message how Baekhyun has to wear a different suit because he’s simply too dummy thick for this one, especially as far as the pants are concerned. Which is almost no lie and they will believe you. 

Much like his name suggests, Baekhyun does go hundred. At his apartment, you basically have to carry him into the bedroom. He says he doesn’t want to sleep. But you won’t kiss him goodnight after you pull off your jacket without a strong word on how his health has to be priority. He gets the point when you say you wouldn’t have had a first date without Baekhyun dozing off before your evening visit.

Sweet baby Jesus, you’d still be awkwardly slurping noodles without Baekhyun’s faux pas. If you look back at it: It’s all a story of accidents that turn out beautiful.

Sleep being Baekhyun’s reset button, that’s the best thing to do in order to give the night a good conclusion. Being alone in his apartment together, you don’t have to discreet about sleeping next to him after setting the alarm clock.

Mark Lee’s piping hot Americano is the culprit for all of this, but you thank him.

----

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 149

So, I was super busy on my normal queueing day and wasn’t able to set this up. And by ‘super busy’ I mean ‘doing laundry, weeding flower beds, and taking several naps’, bc I have upwards of 24 niblings and a super-full time job that make me exhausted.

I’m not kidding, I recently told @baelpenrose “I had a birthday party to go to, yes it’s the third Saturday in a row, don’t worry about keeping track because there are SO MANY”. 

What doesn’t make me exhausted? Y’all. The likes, the comments, the reblogs, the ‘hey, this person reads my stuff AND Bael’s stuff’ ( @feral-possums-in-the-bog, @drbibliophile, looking at you in a very loving way). Also the speedrunners... all of you who have ever, at any point, found this fic and decided to read every single chapter as quickly as possible ( and have or haven’t shamed me for needing to update the masterpost or page links), you keep me going like nothing else. I, too, like a good binge read, so I know I’ve done something worth... something... when someone else binges like that.

“So the Ark is semi-organic?” I glanced over and resisted the urge to trail my fingers along the walls of the corridor.

“That would be the closest Terran approximation, yes,” they confirmed. “It is not sentient in any form, but all exposed surfaces, for example, are grown in-place of a material native to our home planet.”

“So cool,” I whispered. “Is there a benefit to that, aside from being more sustainable?”

Noah rubbed two liw alongside their sensory organs, and let out a soft buzz - essentially rubbing their face with a sigh. “It is very rare for any species that achieves sentience to reach a level of technology that allows for faster than light travel without what you refer to as sustainability being included in every aspect of their culture.”

“Oh.” I felt ashamed and focused on my feet for a few steps, paying close attention to the feeling of the deck plating through my soles, any uneven textures that I came across turning into canyons of perception.

“In the case of the material coating the surfaces of the Ark,” Noah continued, clearly picking up on my discomfort, “it serves a largely hygienic function, much as Else currently provides.”

“So, that’s what Xio was referring to when she said that Hujylsogox ships largely decontaminate themselves?”

“Indeed. Where my species absorbs impurities from the air and any surfaces we come in contact with, the lining of the corridors, rooms, and vents can purify the rest within a Galactic week.�� That worked out to eleven and two-third days as we currently measured them on the Ark, or fourteen and a half days on Earth. “Biofiltration is a very common way to sanitize spaces that often house multiple species to avoid destructive interactions, although the coating we use is known to be the most efficient organic solution.”

Surrendering, I ran my fingers over the wall.  Even knowing that it was grown, it still felt like sandstone under my touch. “If it is so efficient, why don’t the Ekomari use it on their ships?”

Their fingers on both vomu clacked as they tapped them together. “In absence of another organism to ingest the larger particulates, sypo is what you would consider to be too efficient.”

“Feathers clog it up?”

“Like you would not believe,” they hummed deeply - a groan, clear as day. “It actually ends up starving the sypo.”

Unbidden, my mind’s eye flashed back to the nightmares that Else had shown me early on: large flakes of the walls falling away and littering the corridor floors. “So, that was a very real thing?” There didn’t seem to be any reason to clarify, given how clearly the images had blared in my head.

“Correct. We believe that Else understood the nature of the material and was trying to show you what was happening in a way they thought you would understand.” A heavy liw gently patted my shoulder. “They meant well, even if they did not realize that it would backfire.”

I was about to ask what the Ekomari use in place of sypo as a biofilter, but my databand signaled me. Judging by the fact that it chimed, flashed, and vibrated against the bones in my wrist, this was incredibly urgent. “I’m sorry, Noah, one mom - ah, fuck…” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mentally braced myself for what I knew would be coming in the next several days.

“Wisdom, you are distressed.”

“Departmental notification from Pranav and Zach that they will be doing system security testing over the next week. Which means Derek will be doing his best to hack into our systems and take them out, while Pranav and Zach take notes of vulnerabilities and then fix them afterward.”

The face-rubbing sigh was back. “They are not including basic ship functions in this testing, correct?”

I shook my head, relieved that I could at least provide that assurance. “Negative. Only the systems that humans will be replicating on our own once we are on Von.”

“This is still terribly inconvenient. These tests increase tension across the Ark to quite difficult levels to be around.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s mostly from what happened Before, at least for the older members of the crew.  I mean, we got a Global Parliament out of it, but… there were a scary few years before we got there. And then the End happened, and the hack felt like some kind of warning looking back.”

Noah buzzed thoughtfully. “You are speaking of the gap in data we found when we were trying to download your planetary database.”

A part of me wanted to laugh at the fact that Miys continued to refer to the internet as a ‘planetary database’, but the topic was so upsetting that any kind of joy felt obscene right then. “It was… another terrorist attack, honestly.  They weren’t unusual, as terrifying as that is - I mean, you admitted yourself that not all of us were worth saving.  There was a petrochemical hack maybe five years before this one, and the attacks had been ramping up slowly even before that.  But this one.”  I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts from my head. “What we were told is that this group knew we would never take action against climate change, something about how the rich corporate would never take it seriously until they had to actually live in the nature they were destroying.”

“You are doubtful of this.” Noah’s statement was far from being a question.

Couldn’t blame him, since I didn’t believe half of what we had been told, or maybe that it was only half the story. “I wasn’t old enough to remember, but it is a recorded fact that there were actual people on Earth who had more wealth than any single country on the planet, and one was particularly known for building his fortune on the backs of employees who were worked to death or nearly to death.  It’s hard to believe that had nothing to do with it, you know.”

“If being reminded of this event causes such distress among your people, why run so many tests?”

“The hack killed people, Noah. It destroyed entire small countries, caused a lot of violence and wars. The ultra-rich may have been the targets, but the casualties were mostly people who never knew what was happening.  We want to make sure it can’t happen again.  That’s why we warn everyone what’s going on, so they know it’s not the same thing, but still do the testing.”

More clattering of vomu signaled Noah thinking again. “Your global economy depended strongly on the concept of wealth and the concept of money.  But with the current economic model you exercise, such a data security breach would not impact it.”

I shrugged. “We still worry. Not to mention the fact that, at some point, someone may try. We can try all we want to avoid the catalyst of the original events, but some of our better qualities can be just as terrible with just a twist.  Curiosity, confidence, and justice and easily turn into pride, vindictiveness, and prying. Which can lead to blackmail. And that’s just one example. Still sure we’re worth it?”

Another thoughtful buzz with some mild clicking. “I have seen your people endeavor to save a species that could have destroyed you.  I have seen you, specifically, mourn someone who deliberately attempted to end not only your life but the lives of the entire Ark.  There is much evidence to give us faith in your compassion.”

All I could do was shake my head. “I’ll try to have faith in your faith,” I murmured with a weak smile.

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[amazingphilza]

DSMP!OC HEADCANNONS

i dunno if ppl on here make dsmp!ocs for themselves outside art but here’s my long list of headcannons?? idk what to call this, but assume all names have c! before it ofc :]

,, this is kinda messy & probably has a lot of plot holes but i just needed a space to write out all my thoughts LOL

also cw / ment of manipulation & ib: dsmp wiki <3

character origin :

previous life was the l’mantree :D

allegedly planted by schlatt, we will never know who’s my canonical parent(s)

reborn as a dryad after niki burns the l’mantree

i think being a dryad would fit especially since they’re typically nymphs of oak trees :]

appearance :

my character’s mc skin has long light brown hair & is seen wearing a flower crown with petals that are around the color of a pale violet and navy blue

clothing would consist of black shoes & a long light grey sweater that falls down to the legs and covers most of the hands which adorned with 2 black stripes on the upper arms

lore / history :

since my past life was the l’mantree, i would’ve known the ins and outs of the history when l’manburg was still standing, up until niki burned the tree

after witnessing everything, i’d hold a grudge on niki (+ allies?) and loyal to wilbur since he’s the whole person that made a meaning of the land of l’manburg

however i’d still be on edge w any side because i could sympathize with everyone to some extent after seeing some sort of distress from everyone at some point

i think seeing both sides of the spectrum when l’manburg/manburg still stood could change my perspective of some other characters

but at the same time, not everything was completely centered in l’manburg so i wouldn’t know the whole story of everyone’s character

i’m currently writing this just after tommy has left the prison & mostly everyone is treating him differently, so i’d try to befriend him by not showing that i dont care about his past & trauma but also not being fully faithful about our friendship ahaha,,,

he seems like the type that needs someone to see through his past history but tommy would definitely disapprove of my character visiting dream at the prison (i would do it anyway :))

vowing my current life to wilbur, i would help dream escape to revive wilbur & follow along with their plans of chaos

i don’t fully support dream but he is the only way to wilbur, making me comply with dream’s decisions

“growing up” in my past life and witnessing endless conflict, it is the only thing i know and understand; chaos

but i think during the process of helping dream & wilbur i’d keep my connection with them secret, being the person to obtain all the inside information they need

i could see myself as a type of equilibrium like ranboo but in a bad way, i don’t know how to explain it

but i would try befriending ranboo since he seems like he is involved in many things and would know a lot, despite his short term memory

unfortunately i’m not sure how much his character actually knows since i haven’t been able to watch his pov that much but i’m sure there’s a lot in his memory book...

to blend in as a normal person within the rest of the characters, i’d surround myself with connor a lot

not only because he needs more lore, connor is one of the “normal” citizens of the smp so i believe being with him doesn’t bring as much attention to myself, unlike people that’s related to the egg and their noticeable features after associating themselves with the egg

he is currently only on bad terms with techno which is rly good when comparing that to other characters and their relationships with other people

connor could probably sense my real intentions eventually & tell everyone else that i’m not who i say i am but if that’s my flaw & my downfall is caused by connor, so be it! sorry dream & wilbur

i feel like for being a young dryad, i’d still fool around with dream/wilbur & help give tommy an small “advantage” to defeating the two ?

like yes i’m supposed to be on your side but where’s the fun if tommy can’t do anything to begin with?

i honestly don’t know if wilbur was revived he’d actually be his vassal but let’s assume that happens, but either way i’m with wilbur on his decisions

but ya dream seems like the type to punish me for helping tommy and send me to the afterlife to learn & become smarter like wilbur had done or smth

in the end, i just want to give tommy bits and pieces that tease him from ending all the wars and problems he has been faced with

like here’s some info about dream and wilbur but it won’t be no where close to enough

but who knows, ghostbur said ‘villains are just heroes that aren’t convinced yet’ & maybe tommy could eventually grow on me & change my ways,,

maybe me fooling around & teasing tommy with answers he’s been searching for is a way to mask that i want to be a good person

ok but imagine after knowing so much about dream/wilbur, the revive book, & the afterlife & then i switch sides,,,

surely if tommy can’t put and end to them, dream would make sure i’m gone for good instead

but also if me & connor are in good terms & he’s canonically a necromancer & can bring ppl back to life,,,,

personality :

to all besides dream & wilbur, i’d try to act passive and friendly on the outside to get on everyone’s good side

however under the mask i am more mischievous & strive to cause more problems for everyone on the server from the inside out

in a way, i’ve taken up some of dream’s manipulative personality but still very understanding

i’d like to think of my character as a good listener,, trying to do less talking than others so i do not open up about my true self and intentions

i’ve seen rumors about schlatt & mexican dream also being revived along with wilbur & i feel like i’d have some soft spot for schlatt & pick up a few things from his own character, not sure what though

schlatt planted l’mantree theory, dad!schlatt au part 2 !! /j

because of my character’s closed off and quiet personality, i feel like i’d be pretty analytical

i would know how to slip between the cracks with some characters & notice the smallest things to make them question themselves

maybe my character is good at holding their composure, and not that susceptible to being “emotional” in a way so it’s easier to face people

like i understand when a situation is sad, etc but i can’t show emotion towards how i feel about it (i don’t know if that makes sense but ya!)

i wanna try to elaborate more,, like imagine my character before tommy visits the prison, i would be unfazed from when i found out he died to the point he’s released and we find out he’s been revived

everything is a constant blur hehe

i just can’t fully process everything i guess? i dunno if that’s helpful but yeah!

in the end though, my moral compass has been very tainted; despite wanting to show my loyalty, it can be slightly easy to sway me, making me internally feel guilty to other people

but me trying to get on everyone’s good side to impress wilbur/dream to seem useful to them would ruin me before i would even realize that i’m another “pawn”

we know damn well dream is faking it till he “makes it” but yk,,

but i’d be stuck in this kind of dilemma of not knowing what thoughts are my own or just something trickled down from wilbur or dream

there’s like maybe something that clicks in my head like “maybe i wanna think for myself for once” or smth

like who am i really?

powers , bonuses , etc :

since dryads can technically manipulate plants in some ways, theoretically i could control the blood vines to some extent ???

i’m pretty sure dryads can communicate with plants so i could understand what the blood vines are saying as well

maybe i could get a good sense of what the egg is all about and stuff

assuming that i understood anything that was happening with the egg in the first place but anyway—

i guess similar to ranboo like how he can’t really be around water without some type of amour or something, it would make sense for me to primarily reside in a type a forest or be near one ?? who knows

seems a bit morbid in a way because of the whole history but if i can somehow easily get rid of the blood vines without it affecting me (if there is still some there) i think it would be kinda pretty to build a tree base in the middle of the l’manburg crator (iskall tease)

like it can show a sign of some rebirth, not the same government repeated once again but a new era in general

you know how you see like destruction years after it the disaster or smth happened and it gets all overgrown with plants and stuff? ya that’s what i’m going for in my head (mumbo jumbo s7 tease)

i know it’s covered in glass already but i dunno, some broken glass and a giant tree emerging from the whole thing and all the rubble seems cool

i’m not a good builder but i have the vision LMAO

omg puffy is like a sheep human hybrid im pretty sure & like there’s a specific type of dryad that are a protector of sheep & other animals?? i’m not exactly sure but that seems like an interesting element to incorporate somehow

also glatt randomly planting a oak sapling in quackity’s lore stream yes pls feed my nonexistent dsmp character lore /j

i honestly dunno how to incorporate the fact dryads can turn shapeshift into trees when trying to escape something but i read something that if a dryad stays in a tree form for too long they’ll forget who they are and stay stuck as a tree?? which like woah that’s cool & some material but at the same time what—

since everyone’s backstory is kinda a mess, mr beast parent tease bc he planted a bunch of trees /hj

i have realized wilbur saying like “the whole reason i built this nation is gone” & blowing up everything or whatever is kinda a plot hole in like ‘why would i follow wilbur if/when he’s revived when he said this?’ but i’d like to think he was the one that made some meaning of the area lmanburg was on, which includes the lmantree

like he was the one that started everything and created that sentiment of that land, and however he views it now is how i would see it now

he gave meaning to my past life and now in my current life, i feel this obligation to repay him for it

not really lore bc i think it was cc!tommy talking to cc!ranboo about his height & age when he first joined but yk it would funny to make my dsmp character than his just to slightly spite him anyway

canonically 6’4 dryad yes . /hj

also i have no idea anything about hannah and her lore but we do be flower buddies :D

also omg like this isn’t at all important but the way ranboo can pick up grass blocks will just have me at awe, i dunno seems in theme with the forest/plant stuff

and i remember reading like there was something about dryads and apples but i can’t remember but i’d give tommy a bunch of apples /hj

apples am i right chat,,,,,

i’ll just have infinite apples in my inventory, like kill me in game, not like losing lives kinda deal but just in general and boom stacks of apples

“bee i get you’re half tree but do you just poop apples out like they’re nothing??” “girls don’t poop” /j

ok but like no matter how many streams i watch i cant grasp where everything is but omg but no if i was new to the server & stuff, canonically & not, i would feel my character to be the curious kind to explore everywhere

like besides a mini tour from some other person in the server, since my character only knows things in the bounds of lmanburg, i’d go off exploring different places like pogtopia, the sewers, showchester, etc

i feel like my character would be really into history, like they would have questions about what happened to lmanburg after the last war? what was life like before wilbur? what was the whole history about the antarctic empire? i dunno but reading a bunch of books from a library seems really interesting

oh but in theory, me and tubbo are loosely related if you wanna count schlatt as my “dad” because he supposedly planted the lmantree ???

i mean could make sense but it seems like a stretch

also if my character ever got close to schlatt, i’m not sure if this is canon, but i swear one time he mentioned how the whole dsmp sever is just a game/server in a game & he’s the only one that knows that ??? but like imagine if i found that out canonically,,,,,

big existential crisis pls

and i’m not 100% sure how dryad shifting works with like going from female to tree form and stuff but if i’m able to morph into different girls on the server & act as them,,,, the about of problems that can cause in the lore omg

lemme frame niki real quick and get inside information /j

oh ya and like hey bee do you support the government then? yes but no. whatever my “fav” person is canonically (assuming this is based in the beginning of this whole hc) whatever wilbur thinks, i think. head empty. but subject to change as the dsmp storyline progresses and stuff :]

ngl i wanna throw in some like random lore that doesn’t make sense to throw people off but i can’t think of anything

not actually really lore related but my choice of stream music like how ranboo has his undertale stuff that makes everyone cry, i will have in love with a ghost

yup i like in love with a ghost sm & i’m pretty sure their music is like not dmca too which yay but yk theoretically never gonna stream on the dsmp but still a fun aspect to think of bc i love listening to music & it’s very impactful to a story & associating something to it makes it more meaningful :D

like i could imagine the chill pop lofi piano stuff fits witha few lore streams of like exploring the whole smp before my character would really go out with being this lost villain in a way?

tubbo’s gangnam style who?

like i feel like i made my character bad/evil so they could have potential to get better in the future

on one hand, i’ll end up w dream and/or wilbur for the rest of my life, which is okay but i could also switch to be with tommy or even disregard all of them and be with techno/phil or quackity & potentially schlatt even who knows

also i cant wait for more connor lore tho, like as much as i tried to make my character give him more content i wanna see how everything goes with him having connections to schlatt & stuff

anyway i would’ve made concept art for my character but i honestly don’t rly like my art currently but who knows LMAO

and lastly if u read all of this ily /p

i might update this later when there’s more lore but ya

[alicemitch09writes]

be careful what you wish for

pairing: Prince!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Historian!Reader 

summary: He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. labyrinth AU.

author’s notes: i have the vaguest idea of labyrinths, just depending only on what I already know from literature class and the fics I read. Also, this was an excuse to make said AU, aaaaaaaaaand because I'm a sucker for angst, I wanted to delve and write into this. Mwahahaha This turned out longer than I expected it to be, and I'm worried if I was able to deliver what I wanted to deliver. Eugh. The fact that reader is the adoptive siblings to the Miyas was an accident, because that was intended for another fic but decided to scrap that idea entirely because I have OTHER WIP fics to worry about first. Heh. Finally, I went for Sakusa because I love him and he kinda fits the general idea of this kinda angst (which was inspired by a prompt list for bakudeku originally lol). Also, if the last part seems rather rushed, sorry it's 12:59am here and I want to sleep yet I want to finish this bc I have a lotta other fics to work on.

also available on ao3.

He wished you away. Prince Kiyoomi actually wished you away.

Which was probably for the best, since, in his words were “you’ve been nothing but a hindrance, a pest” and you've been nothing but pathetic, contributing to little with your history and books, doing little to help prosper the kingdom.

And now, here you were: forever stuck in this maze-like dungeon, guarded by a hulking beast for all of eternity.

Fact remains: your first love actually wished you away.

And away you went to some castled walls, far from the kingdom you grew up in, away from civilization, far and away. Away, away, away from it all. Away from him.

Cold, numb, and hollow, tears blurred and streamed down your face through the monster's running, never letting go as you helplessly watch your kingdom shrink from view.

Then he stopped, your tears halted, heart in your throat. Arriving in your destination, it was a surprise when the monster put you down gently, huffing down at you, before leaving you to your lonesome.

(E/c) eyes slowly took in the room you were in - a wide room, marbled floors, fizzled candles in elegant stands, a plush-lookng canopy bed in the middle, with draperies made from the finest silk, there was an antechamber connecting to a library filled to the brim with books, another antechamber leading to a bath. It was a lot to take in. And strangely enough, it looked like it was waiting for a host to live in.

Shaken and raw from the events that occurred, it was only the sound of clanging iron doors that brought you out of your stupor, rushing towards the doors, shaking, banging, yelling helplessly, and begging to be free.

Huffing lowly the horned-monster disappeared into the corners of darkness, your cries falling on deaf ears.

The first few nights were spent crying.

Crying for you missed your books. Crying for you missed your apprentice and students. Crying because you missed your friends in the palace. Crying because you missed that little boy who sneaks into your room, begging for stories of time beyond him. Crying because you missed Big Brother Osamu, checking in to ensure there was something in your stomach. Crying because you missed fighting with Big Brother Atsumu. Crying because you missed chatting with Motoya. Crying because you missed the handsome visage, the aloof, sarcastic, cutting, yet gracefulness of your dear friend - Kiyoomi.

Crying because he wished you away, far, far away.

Night and day, you spent crying. So many tears were shed, too many had been dried up. Not only did you cry on the outside, but so were you on the side. Your whimpering echoing through your empty prison. Your throat had been hoarse from being used up, wailing for nobody.

Nobody was there to hear you cry, nor were there people to console you.

Alone.

Alone did you cry, alone did you suffer.

Denying everything and anything that was happening to you.

Why you? Why? What had you done? All you did was research on the country's past, pouring hours and hours in your books, often writing drafts and exchanging theories and discoveries - was that so wrong? Why you? You didn't deserve this! No! No!!!!!!!

You could deny your destiny all you want but at the end of the day, you were still imprisoned and by your lonesome. You were here. Nobody else. You.

Denying didn't change the fact that this was your reality now.

And soon, denial bled into acceptance.

Resigning to your hate, you could only feel tears start anew.

You were never to see your family again, let alone leave and see the outside world.

You would never see little Romero again.

You would never gush with your apprentice again about new discoveries and strategies, nor have educational debates with visiting historians.

You would never delight in sweets with the older Sakusas for afternoon tea.

You would never laugh with Motoya again. 

You would never see Kiyoomi again. 

With a heavy heart, you accepted it.

But it doesn't mean it'll hurt any less, the same way that it didn’t change the fact that your first love, the second Prince of Itachiyama, wished you away.

He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. It was just a rash thing he said because he was tired of people prying into his personal life, of people making decisions for him, and probably his fear and frustration that you were slipping away from him.

His status as the crowned prince meant that a lot was expected from him, even though his older brother was expected to inherit the throne. But his brother was never one for battle - too focused on politics and his people, neither was his sister - who fared better in navigation, so Kiyoomi was set to become the commander of the Royal Guard. It was a given since he born and bred for it. His skill and strategic mind were not to be underestimated, as he's led the kingdom to many victories and earned the respect of kings, generals, nobles, and soldiers. His prominent fame eventually caught on different aspects of his life, so it was only a matter of time before marriage was brought into the discussion.

Try as he might, he was a royal and these were inevitable. That doesn't mean he likes people prying into his private life, disliked it even more, when they began to question his relationships - especially with you, the royal historian.

A well-regarded historian, who practiced a bit of politics, you were someone he sought before deciding to go to war or for just a friendly debate over philosophy and strategies. What you thought of his strategies mattered a lot to him, he held your opinions over anyone's in the castle - even to his own parents. It wasn't to say because you were childhood friends, but he recognized your abilities as a historian. You did a lot of things, aside from chronicling the day-to-day life of royals. You were unique, for you were keen on gaining knowledge and voiced your ideas and opinions, never fearful and always respectable to whoever you were talking to. 

That, and because of your closeness, became the reason that you became a target for many, for them to keep an eye on you. Sakusa knew this, tried to let it die. But the crowned prince had been too naive to the workings of twisting tales. 

And then, marriage proposals were coming in. Left and right, people were badgering him. Not a moment's rest when they were on the brink of war for god's sake! He was not interested, leaving the proposals unanswered for all he cared.

One summer's night, a ball had been prepared to celebrate the foundation of their kingdom. As expected, visiting dignitaries and royals were invited.

("Chatterboxes who don't really have a place in this palace except a name," he'd mutter under his breath, you laugh at his comment.)

As the royal historian, you were expected and had been dressed in the finest clothes, a gift from his older sister - who absolutely fawned and adored you. Dressed in his royal robes, he felt the need to get on his knees, undeserving to be in the presence of such beauty.

In a sea full of royals and socialites, you were the prettiest thing he has ever laid eyes on, easily besting and outshining everyone.

This was the one night he was supposed to tell you how he felt about you, social status be damned, he only cared and has eyes for you and you alone. 

In hushed whispers, gossip crept through the castle walls, snaking its way to each and every ear, poising and tainting their image of you. People began talking, eyes darting between him and the unsuspecting girl, who was laughing with an ambassador.

Suddenly, the whispers reached his ears, tainting his thoughts.

"Kiyoomi?" you whispered, tone laced with worry. Discreetly following after him when he pulled away from speaking with some ambassadors, you brought with you a goblet filled with water, fingers splaying over. "Are you alright?"

At the sight of you, he relaxed. Slightly. "No," bringing his fingers to his face, he massaged at his throbbing temples.

Taking a step closer, you held out the water, which he took graciously and took a small sip, eyes gazing out into the night with you next to him, not saying a word.

Behind you two, the loud music and fanfare went about. Camaraderie abounded inside that ballroom, glitz, and glamour just filling and living to their fullest as the night went on. However, on that balcony, there was nothing but silence - the silence one desperately sought for, the silence one could offer along with a companion who understood the need for said silence.

You didn't say anymore then, letting the silence fill in, working on a small smile when he looked your way and he appreciated you for it. This way, away from it all, under the moonlight, he could appreciate your beauty even more.

But it didn't last long.

One minute, you were joking about how gaudy people were dressed tonight, the next you were discussing Kiyoomi's battle plans and possible alliance with the Shiratorizawa kingdom, notorious for their undeniable power and might. They started as a small kingdom, which vastly grew over the years. Personally, you've met and been acquainted with them when they visited and enjoyed debates with Satori, Kenjirou, and even the emperor's son, Wakatoshi. Kiyoomi held said man to a high regard, never shutting up about his feats and skills. This was worrisome because Shiratorizawa was becoming especially unyielding when it comes to conquering neighbouring kingdoms - likes their recent dispute with Aoba Johsai and Karaunso, caring very little in casualties. Kiyoomi was quick to defend Wakatoshi, never minding the lives that were ignored during their rise to power, or your obvious discomfort of such alliance.

"So, I'm the bad guy now? For wanting what's best for my people?"

"What you want is war with defenseless people, in an unfair and one-sided war that'll only lead to bloodshed," you reasoned. "I just think you should rethink it, or at least have terms."

"There is nothing to rethink and no terms to talk about," his voice rises, his temper rising. "As royal historian, you should know at least that this alliance is promising and will yield results for the betterment of our kingdoms."

"You're forgetting that history is a philosophy that teaches by example," you quote, hands curling into fists. "I just don't want you making the same mistake-"

"I don't make mistakes, I make results." Something cracked in the darkness, his eyes warranting a scary drip of pride.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"What would you know about wars and alliances anyway?"

Swallowing, you stood your ground, turning to face him. "Plenty. Enough to tell you, that as the royal historian, one mustn't needlessly push through with alliances without thinking them through first. Yes, it may yield good results but at the cost of many? I don't think so." A cold gust of wind blew, clouds rumbling overhead. "And as your friend, I worry about how rash you're being just because of Wakatoshi-"

Kiyoomi scoffed, actually scoffed at you, incredulously at how ludicrous your words were.

"God, could you be any more pretentious? Not everything is as easy as you make it!"

"Kiyoomi, stop-"

"What would you know? I wish you'd just be taken away, far away because I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a hindrance and a pest to this kingdom's chances of glory. I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a pest and a hindrance. I've clearly wasted all those years of educating you for a rather ignorant mind."

"You don't mean that,"

"Maybe, I do!" he yelled, throwing the goblet away, his voice was able to catch the attention of people nearby. "You think you know everything, just because of your books that talks about dead people-"

"Kiyoomi-"

"-then you talk to me as though I haven't learned about them and disregard the fact that I’m trying to be better than them-“

“I know, Kiyoomi, I know-“

“Shut up, you don’t know! Just like you don’t know a thing outside your books, it’s not always as it was written! You don’t know just how difficult it is to really man an army, let alone try to make efforts to ensure that we make it out alive. You wouldn’t understand how weary the job is at the end of the day, because you’re happy being in the castle surrounded by your books all day. You wouldn’t understand, so just leave this to me,” overhead, thunder rumbled loudly, ferociously. Kiyoomi took a step, you took a step back. “Stop nagging me over things I already know!”

Lower lip quivering, you bit down, chin held up high as you asked. “D-Don’t my opinions matter to you, Kiyoomi?” it was a question laced with hurt, enough to guilt him, but Kiyoomi didn’t yield.

“Just stop!” his breathing was shaking, harsh. Consumed completely by anger, frustration, and fear, his eyes met yours, voice cold as he said, “I wish that you were taken away, there’s no place in the palace for someone so ignorant and a hindrance to the prosperity we’re guaranteed to have. If you can’t join us, you might as well be a pest.”  

Famous last words.

Something compelled him to say it, he couldn't stop himself and the words just went out.

Fear, frustration, anger, all pushed him to his boiling point.

Twin pools of (e/c) widened, slowly filling with pain and tears, stopping him cold.

All the words he’s said comes crashing over him, regret quickly followed. Kiyoomi pales, feeling cold all over.

“(Y/N)-“

And then came chaos.

Crashing in uninvited, wildly wreaking havoc with little regard of who was in the way. Panic screaming, yelling, and thrashing.

And then, it lifted its head. To the balcony. Its blank eyes dilating, narrowing at the sight of you.

Kiyoomi only had a moment to realize what was going to happen before it was too late.

One moment, the horned-monster was in the middle of the dance floor. The next, it was barrelling its way towards the two of you, pushing anyone in its path, destroying the doors, grabbing you harshly, and throwing you over its shoulder, all in one second. Kiyoomi hadn't realized that he had been pushed away, blood matting his hair, his robes–

"(Y/N)!" but it was too late, the Minotaur was speeding away with you in its grasp.

Shakily, he tried to get to his feet, only to fumble.

“(Y/N)…”

He tried again.

"(Y/N)..."

And again.

"(Y/N)..."

Again.

Slumping against the ground, his eyes never left the direction the Minotaur left with you in tow.

'I wish you were taken away...'

'I wish you were taken away...'

'I wish you were taken away...'

'I wish you were taken away...'

'I wish you were taken away...'

'I wish you were taken away...'

Twin pools of (e/c). Broken. Destroyed. Humiliated. Tears flowing.

He couldn’t focus. Nothing was right. No. Nothing felt right. Something tightened in his chest. Breathe. Breathe. How do you breathe again? Plink! Something wet fell down on him, wetting his hair, his robes, blood smearing on the marbled floors. Blood. That was his blood. He hit his head. His blood. Blood smeared. To his hands – since when had he fallen to his knees? And screaming. Anguish. Pain. Regret. Screaming. Wait, was somebody screaming?

Oh, wait.

It was him.

He was on his knees.

He was screaming.

Screaming through the pouring rain as he bled.

Dread washed over him when he realized that his wish had been granted, you were whisked away by a beast and never to be seen again.

You slipped away from him, only because he wished for it.

The labyrinth was a rather large domain.

Massive concrete walls, quiet stones that suffocated you with silence, enough to drive you mad. A maze that was endless in its length, wide in its berth, and dizzying to traverse.

Many were the days you spent roaming around, in high hopes you've found an exit, only to find yourself in a dead-end. Many were the days where you practically rammed yourself into walls, hoping for a secret exit. Many were the days where you hoped, that if you crashed hard enough or hit yourself hard enough, you'd wind up unconscious, never to wake again. Dead. You didn't want to stay here forever.

But one day, as you were walking about, you happened upon the strangest thing - a garden. A hidden garden, to be exact.

Walking towards and through the archway, you were greeted with something that was a sight for weary eyes. A lush garden, filled to the brim with blossoming flowers as far as the eye can see. And fruit trees! The rarest you can find and have only heard of from stories. It stretched the whole area that you almost forgot that you couldn't tell if it was closed in by the labyrinth's high walls.

Taking a step in, bare feet meeting the damp grass, for the first time in what seems like forever, you broke into a shaky, wet laugh. Hands covering your mouth as you walked further in, uncaring. (E/c) eyes were filled with tears anew, tears of joy.

The air was fragrant, sweet, comforting. Flowers, colorful flowers in different shapes and sizes painted the gardens with vibrant colors and life.

Alive, the garden was alive, buzzing dragonflies, fluttering butterflies, and other smaller insects.

Feeling something warm kiss your sigh, you made a shaky sound - a gasp. Slowly, you began to breathe. Sighing, you craned your head up to meet the sky up above you. Squinting, your eyes fell shut, soaking it in.

You were probably up in the highest tower, for you were encased in a glass ceiling, allowing the sun to shed its light down on you, on the greenery.

The garden was spectacular, almost like the ones in the castle.

You lost track of time, but you didn’t care. This little heaven was all that you had, even if it were lonely.

Many were the days, with tear-dried face, did you wonder if you were going to go insane in here. Many were the days spent memorizing paths – some were useful, like the way to your chambers and the garden, while many paths proved useless, meaningless. Like the labyrinth knew you’d want to find a way out, giving you nothing.

Acceptance bled from denial.

However pretty your prison was, sadly, you remind yourself again, Kiyoomi wished you away.

A bruised cheek and a split lip. To many, injuries would be a badge of honor to satisfy their male ego. But for Prince Kiyoomi, they might as well be a badgeof dishonor. And for two good reasons - each came from your adoptive brothers, Atsumu's having the most hits since he was the oldest, boiling with rage after finding out that his youngest sister was taken away because of him. Crowned prince be damned, Atsumu would gladly beat him black and blue, had Bokuto not stopped and held him back.

Osamu would surely help, without a doubt. The punch he delivered was undoubtedly was painful. And that was it, followed by a long, cold, hard stare and nothing else. Miya Osamu was always known to be the calmer twin with a filter to his language and could be just as vile with his words as his twin. But his silence, that long, cold, hard stare was enough. His silent gaze was burning enough, a thousand words dying to be said that cut through thanks to his fist. A split lip and message received.

You were too good for him, that much the twins knew.

You were sweet, headstrong, brave, and annoyingly book smart, but still way too good for someone like the third crowned prince of Itachiyama.

Atsumu didn't like it that his (self-proclaimed) rival and commanding officer was romantically tied to his beloved sister. Osamu doesn't give a shit, so long as you were happy, but he was miffed by the fact that he was royalty.

"It's so cliche," he'd tell you, brandishing some rice balls in three different variants. "he's a prince, you're a commoner. That in itself is a recipe for disaster."

Unamused with your older brother's words, you eyed the rice balls in his tray before taking the one in the middle, wolfing without thinking. "Yum!"

"Oi, listen to yer brothers when we're talkin'!" yelled Atsumu, who grabbed the other onigiri, spitting rice everywhere.

"You piece of shit for a brother, don't talk with your mouth full!" but rice also flew everywhere from when you opened your mouth.

Sighing, Osamu took the last onigiri for himself, taking bites as the two of you fought.

Kiyoomo, who had just arrived, could only watch as the Miya siblings fought amongst themselves before the argument died down and you were all laughing at something. Without a doubt, the twins loved you, even though you weren't blood-related.

Looking up, you waved at him with a wide, warm, welcoming smile. Osamu inclined his head, a sort of bow. Atsumu coolly two-finger saluted him, his commanding officer by the way.

Osamu trusted him.

Atsumu trusted him.

They trusted him.

And what did they get? A brokenhearted sister who's now held captive somewhere.

He deserved it, Kiyoomi knew without a doubt that he deserved it and more.

After all, who wishes their childhood friend away?

Who wishes the person they're madly in love with away? 

With badges of dishonor brandishing his face, Prince Kiyoomi set out on a quest: to find and rescue you. No matter what.

As far as the books you've read have told, Minotaurs were supposed to be blood-thirsty creatures who devoured on sacrifices kept in the labyrinth. But this Minotaur was different. First of all, it appeared out of nowhere. There had been countless sightings of strange creatures within and outside the kingdom, but they'd been territorial and respectable of keeping their distance from humans. And through your desperate walks around he maze, there were no signs of bones, of any sacrifices that legends told you the creature devoured of. Nothing.

Instead, the creature was just there. Tall. Hulking. Intimidating. Silent. Watching.

When you saw each other, it just stared. It didn't try to stop you, because only it knew the way out, and no way was he willing to let you escape.

It didn't seem to have a master, either.

It just was.

Day in and day out, it was just there.

Unnerving you.

You knew you'd never escape.

Many of your days were spent in the gardens. Sometimes in your room, with a comfortable bed, a warm hearth, and all the books you could read to your heart's desire, and a single gilded narrow window. In the garden, the window was up above you, far within your reach even if you climbed the trees. As though it were a reminder.

Sometimes, when you stared too long at the windows, you could hear the Minotaur huffing behind you, almost laughingly. Mockingly.

Pretty as your prison was, so long as the beast lingered, you knew you weren't safe forever.

Perhaps it was biding its time? Waiting on you to accept death, surrender to it before it could do it's bidding? Maybe it just wanted a dame to lure victims in wanting a chance to prove their heroism? Or maybe it just wanted you to share fate, to stay here in this maze forever? You couldn't escape even if you tried anyway.

Ferocious as he was, the horned-beast saw to it that you were fed, bringing you meals during breakfast, lunch, dinner. Occasionally, he’d bring some fruits. At times, some books and gifts to keep you entertained. When your dress – the beautiful dress the older Sakusa gave you that night – was tattered, ruined, he had given you a new one. It was a wonder where he got these gifts.

“Thank you,” (e/c) eyes turned to the hulking creature, who huffed in response, then left.

Denial bled into acceptance.

If this was your fate forever, then so be it.

After all, Sakusa wished you away for it.

As disappointed as he was in his cousin, Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin completely.

With a brother and sister, both of which who were much older than him, they were all busy learning how to run the castle. His parents were no exception either, as the king and queen of the kingdom. Kiyoomi spent so much of his time alone, growing rather quiet and aloof with his surroundings.

Luckily, the Komori family was there, Motoya was right by his side. But Kiyoomi was still quiet and a bit of a snob.

That was until the Miyas arrived.

The Miyas, who came from the west with two strapping young boys and an adopted bright-eyed girl. They worked around the palace as smith and cook, respectively, the twins always bickering amongst themselves while the youngest quietly tended to her books. More often than not, she'd sneak off to the royal library and read.

Motoya remembered seeing her deep in the library, nose stuck to the book as her eyes glimmered with life, drinking in information with scary speed. She was on her third book. He was with Kiyoomi then, the two were doing self-study, but stopped at the sight of the strange Miya girl.

The next day, Kiyoomi asked for her name. “Miya (Y/N),” she said, tucking a book under her arms, bowing slightly, before walking away, books in tow. Probably to return them.

The day after, she was joining in their self-study, often debating about the histories she read with him, which ended up as a full-blown discussion not even part of their studies! 

The next, next, next day, she wasn't there, having been scolded for running off too much to read her books. However, Kiyoomi came to her defense, and (Y/N) was granted access to the library. She eventually caught the attention of the royal librarian before taking the little girl under her wing. Never had Motoya seen (e/c) eyes shine so bright that they rivaled the best jewels some snobby royals had. Later that day, as her older brothers were fighting amongst themselves (for possibly the nth time) and he and his cousin were passing by, (Y/N) saw and ran up to them and did the impossible: she tackled Kiyoomi  into a hug! Motoya, and the Miya twins, stared in shock. Nobody just hugs the prince like that, he doesn't like to be touched! Nobody!

But Kiyoomi just stood there, taking in the hug, arms awkwardly raised to the smaller girl's form, before decidedly resting on hand on her shoulder, and the other to pat her head. Not one ounce of disgust registered on his cousin's face. Instead, he saw a soft smile, his onyx eyes warm at the girl.

And the rest was history.

Over time, (Y/N) had proven herself with her studies - as her brothers had proven themselves as well as soldiers, showing promise with each passing. Motoya was amazed by her academic prowess, her sound mind, and cunning demeanor, no wonder she wounded up as the royal historian. He'd like to think his cousin played a role in there somewhere. More often than not, Kiyoomi would endorse her to his teachers, her ideas and opinions, too.

It was no secret that since her promotion, Kiyoomi would always seek her out.

It was no secret either that, eventually, the older Sakusa siblings would hear about infamous Miya (Y/N) and fawn over her.

It was no secret either that Kiyoomi only his eyes for her, having been his cousin’s close-confident regarding confusing feelings and possessiveness over her. For someone who always saw things through, who absolutely refused to do anything half-assed, Motoya made sure to poke at his cousin’s rather slow pace with her. Kiyoomi would reason that the timing was never there, because of his duties, and he didn’t want her to get caught in the drama brewing amongst castle chatterboxes. He wanted to protect her from that. Yet he failed.

Guilt was written all over Kiyoomi’s face the night (Y/N) had been taken away. Unflinching from the cold rain, the blood in his hands, his head injury, Kiyoomi just looked…blank.

Since her disappearance, his cousin was a living doll, he barely slept, barely ate, and barely even cleaned himself!

Worried, Motoya saw to it himself that his cousin was taken care of. His parents would send maids to ensure he'd leave the room. His older brother would personally check in with him and talk. His older sister would rush in and forcibly take him to walks in the garden or get him to bathe. Later, Osamu would send him food to eat. Atsumu came by a few days later, pissed still at his superior, but asked him if he had any orders. Slowly but surely, he was getting on his feet. But at the end of the day, Kiyoomi would buckle from it all and just exist.

He was like a living doll, with no function, no purpose. Nothing. It was unbecoming of him.

Everything seemed pointless now.

How did the Great Commander of Itachiyama's Royal Gaurd fall so hard? Simple, it was because of her.

(Y/N) was always his greatest weakness just as she was his greatest strength. Only, he took it for granted.

Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin, for he knew, probably more than anyone else in the castle, how much he hated himself for what happened. 

If there was one thing he knew about his cousin, it's that once he starts something, he'll be so fixated on it and ensures he finishes it through. And with his dying breath, swearing even on his sword, his life, he would- no, he will find (Y/N) and bring her back.

“Kiyoomi?” he asked, entering his cousin’s office after two knocks.

Motoya stopped at the door, noticing the maps scattered around his usually kept desk, along with some notes written in messy, familiar penmanship, the look in his cousin’s eyes.

“Motoya,” he glanced up briefly, shoulders straightening, hands planted on each side of the desk.

“Do you have any leads?” the brunet starts, walking further in.

And Motoya would be there, to help him bring his heart back.

At night, you see him in your dreams.

Intimidating, tall, handsome, wearing that rare smile of his, one that reached his eyes. A secret-like smile, one he shared for those who were worthy of it.

Kiyoomi would be sitting by the pavilion in the castle gardens, watching you across him, head titled slightly, before his lips curled.

And then you’d wake up.

Immediately, your hands fetched for your books, a pencil, to sketch him before your memory of the dream fades – finely shaped jaw, twin beauty marks over his left eye, thick curls, inquisitive dark eyes, long nose, supple lips, his rare smile- only to pause. Stop. Then cry.

Tears starting anew, you looked down at your sketch – of Sakusa Kiyoomi smiling at you, breaking into a watery laugh, free hand shakily touching your sketch. “K-Kiyoomi…”

Dropping the sketch, you covered your mouth with one hand, the other fisted over your heart.

What was the point?

You loved him for the longest time. You’ve been stuck in this one-sided love for your childhood friend for as long as you can remember.

But as the crowned prince, and soon-to-be great commander of the Royal Guard, something as trivial as a romance - with the royal historian of all people, a person with questionable ancestry? It was not meant to be.

Had you been given a chance between taking you away forever and forgetting him forever, you would gladly choose the latter.

Because nothing hurts more than to remember every day that the person you love wished you away, crushing your heart and everything inside. At least when you forget, so will the feelings, leaving you hollow and numb. Ready to start anew.

You were sure he was happiest with your disappearance, finally getting the chance to be closer to Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa, solidifying the alliance.

You did miss Komori. Your adopted brothers. Your friends. Your apprentice. Your home.

But they were gone now, soon to be a forgotten memory.

Here you stay and here you shall remain, doom to remember until your dying breath how your love wished you away.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you.

In his dreams, you were a sight to behold in cream, your (h/c) hair freely falling upon your bare shoulders as you poured into another book. When he walks up behind you, he scoops your hair away and plants a kiss to your shoulders, neck, cheek. A light giggle was his reward, curling his lips upward before he was met with (e/c) eyes.

You were so beautiful.

A sight to behold.

You'd say his name ever so lightly, gently, warmly, and with love. The only way he knew his name should be called leaving your plump lips. Plump lips that looked so inviting and endearing, making him want to lean in-

And then he'd wake up.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you. A lot.

Has been for the last 18 years of his life.

Has been for the past year you've been taken from him.

In his dreams, you would be in his arms.

But in reality, you were taken away from him.

All because he wished you away.

It was a plain and simple reminder that you had to remember: he was a prince, you were the royal historian. Nothing more, nothing less.

You didn’t come from royalty like him, so he was out of your reach. You could love him, but what good is the love of a lowly peasant girl? A girl with questionable origins, plucked from the ruins by kindly gentlefolk who took her in? 

Even though you were regarded as a genius, strategic in mind that rivaled that of the crowned prince, you were still just a peasant. Someone was regal like Kiyoomi deserved nothing but the best.

Despite having your heartbroken, you smiled at Kiyoomi, eyes filled with so much love.  Not knowing that it would be the last time he’d see you.

Later that night, in front of his constituents, brought by frustration and fear of his position and of your social classes, Prince Sakusa rashly wishes for you to be taken away. Not a second later, a Minotaur comes crashing in to take you away. Forever.

Wish granted.

There were many things he regrets.

One of them being missing the chance to press his lips to yours under the rain, a rather picturesque and romantic-setting, had it not been for the fact that he accidentally napped in the palace training grounds and you were happily playing under the rain before finding him.

He still remembered your laugh, a saccharine tune that was pure bliss to listen to. Your smile, it illuminated your face, brightening the dreary downpour, warmed his insides. “Kiyoomi, get up! This is no place for the crowned prince to lie down!” Taking him by the hand, he tugged you to take shelter and he let you.

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts. “what’s the royal historian doing getting herself wet?”

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at him. “I needed a break.”

“And you think getting wet under the pouring rain warrants as break?”

“I love the rain!” you laugh, bright smile splitting open your lips and your (e/c) eyes shining brightly. Reaching a hand out, Kiyoomi watched as the smile remained on your face, watching the droplets on your outstretched hand.

Silent, the crowned prince silently set his eyes in the way your (h/c) hair darkened in the rain, your dress was soaked, yet you had laughed, carelessly, a bright and gentle sound that was threatened to drown out in the thundering downpour. Dark eyes slowly took the slope of your neck, mapping your collarbones, trailing a droplet of rain that slithered down the smooth expanse of your neck.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, shaking his head slightly, dark curls shaking with him. He heard you laugh, sounding closer.

You had leaned in, playfully poking his two beauty marks before tucking wet curls away. Entranced by you, something inside him started, dizzying, confusing, satisfying. He caught your hands in his, bringing them to his cheeks, revelling, leaning into your touch. Ever so gently, he planted his lips on the center of your palm. Breath hitching, you were unable to look away. Kiyoomi’s eyes opened slowly to meet yours, the thundering in your chest increasing. There was soft, loving, endearing look in both your eyes, something both you wondering. Only a breath away, Kiyoomi slowly leaned in, your eyes fluttering close, waiting. And he would have kissed you then and there, had Atsumu not showed up and cut the mood.

The next day, he drilled the blond bastard harder than the rest.

But the one thing Kiyoomi regrets the most was wishing you away, for he never got the chance to tell you he loved you.

Books lined and filled the room, there was a disarray of scrolls, notes, and opened books scattered on the floor, the table. And there you were, pouring words into your notebook with your sleeves pulled up, stray hair escaping your upswept (h/c) hair - messy, curious, beautiful you.

"You have ink in your fingers," he says, as a way of greeting.

Looking up, your expression breaks into a beautified smile, "Kiyoomi!" realizing what he said, you looked around, then laughed nervously at your state. Grabbing a random cloth off the chair closest to you, you wiped at your fingers, walking around to meet him. "To what do I owe the crowned prince the honor?"

He rolls his eyes at your politeness, as though you haven't been friends since you were younger.

"I had a feeling you would be spending hours on the procured books on the Great Backyard Battle between Nekoma and Karasuno. Meaning, you'd be missing out on lunch." At this, he poked the space between your brows. Hard.

“Ow!”

“I’ve sent for lunch. Join me.”

Rubbing at your forehead, your face morphs into a sly grin. “Aww, you could just say you miss me, y’know~”

There were still remnants of ink on your fingers, because you smeared some over your forehead. With a roll – graceful roll, as you put it, he grabs the cloth, turns it to the clean side, and gently rubs the ink off your forehead.

“How are your hands always this dirty?”

“Kiyoomi, I’m not ready for that kinda joke,” you giggle when he’s finished, blowing into laughter when he throws the cloth into your face.

By the day, you were becoming cheekier like your brothers. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling the cloth away, you inspect your relatively clean fingers, showing them to him. Unamused, he humored you by inspecting them closely.

“Clean enough for ya?”

“It will do. But I will ask the servants for a wash or utensils.”

You reply with a giggle, falling in step with your dear friend out your study.

With ink in your fingers, rumpled clothes, and messy hair, to him, you'd still be the most beautiful woman his eyes have ever seen.

Lonely were the nights spent by your lonesome, with nothing like companionship to fill the silence, to quell the fear, to steady your sanity. Yet, here you were. Still. By some miracle.

Books had been your constant companion all your life, feeding your ever curious mind. They were relative company, but not enough to satisfy your loneliness.

The garden, thriving with life and wonder, had lots to offer. Adorning flowers, gentle little insects, they were almost a reminder of life. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Lonely were the days that came by, yet somehow, you managed through.

Managing through keeping yourself sane.

Managing through the fear of your impending doom at the hands of the Minotaur.

Managing through the ache deep inside your chest.

Night-time befell, unable to sleep, you headed to the gardens.

A full moon was out tonight, big and bright. And yet, it seemed alone, like you.

Under the moonlight, you cry and pray.

Crying for the ones you've left behind – your family, friends, students, praying that they may be well.

Crying for your kingdom, praying that it may prosper.

Crying for yourself, praying that you can still manage by.

Crying for your love, praying that he may find happiness.

Denial bled into acceptance.

Prince Sakusa Kiyoomi, Third Prince of Itachiyama Kingdom and Royal Guard Commander, your first love, wished you away.

Finally, after days, months, and little over a year of searching, he found a lead.

Without wasting a second, he arranged his best men – Atsumu first to call for duty, followed by Osamu, who quickly put on his uniform and begged to join – and set forth.

It wasn’t an easy mission.

Kozume, the oracle, wasn’t lying when he said the road would be perilous, treacherous, and tested even the strongest minds. But he wasn’t commander of the Royal Guard for nothing.

Plowing enemy after enemy, never faltering and always on their guard, his men proved that they were best of the best, in leagues with the greatest fighters in the land - akin to jackals hungry for their next prey.

Even after years of quitting the army, Osamu was a force to deal with on the battlefield, especially with Atsumu. The Miya twins, the deadliest forces to deal with, truly a sight to behold.

Whatever came their way, they pushed through.

When night-time befell, you wandered off to the gardens, unable to sleep for some reason.

Unbeknownst to you, the Minotaur had turned its head and growled under its breath. Lifting its head up, huffing angrily, readily.

“I’ll go,” Kiyoomi told his men, eyes never leaving the tall walls before them.

“I’ll come,” Atsumu says, nearly bouncing on his feet, Osamu, a bundle of nervous energy beside him. Bokuto, Hinata, Meian, Inunaki, Thomas, stood by, waiting for orders. The walls in front of them were intimidating, yet as Motoya looked at his cousin, he was surprised yet unsurprised at the same time to see that Kiyoomi seemed…determined.

“No,” Kiyoomi said, firm and stern. Without looking back, he took a step forward. “I’ll go. Alone.”

There was no moon out tonight, you thought with a heavy sigh.

How lonely.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you heaved another heavy sigh, chin tucked in, as you gazed out to the stars.

As the oracle had warned, traversing into the labyrinth won’t be easy as trials awaits him at every turn.

Kiyoomi didn’t falter at his warning, not once.

Even when he was faced with goblins.

Even when hands began to emerge from the walls, reaching for him.

Even when the walls started to close in.

Even when the walls started talking, trying to goad him to leave, escape, give up.

He didn’t budge, not even once.

Through it all, Kiyoomi had to make use of his wit to beat the labyrinth.

Kozume never said anything about beating the labyrinth, giving him little to nothing. But then, he understood you can’t beat it, you just have to outsmart it.

So when the labyrinth began a new tactic, riddling the prince at each turn, Kiyoomi met the challenge head-on.

Nothing will stop him, not even these trivial challenges that try to undermine him.

Nothing shall stand in his way.

He was a man on a mission, everything else was in his way.

Orion. The hunter. Ursa Major. The Big Bear. Ursa Minor. The Little Bear. Bitterly, sadly, you found the Northern Crown.

Draco. The dragon. Lyra. The lyre. Canis Minor. The Little Dog. Pegasus. The Winged Horse. Cygnus. The Northern Cross.

Andromeda. The Chained Princess.

The story of a princess chained to pay for her mother’s demise was one that fascinated you as a child, especially because the princess had to await her demise at the hands of some monster only to be rescued by a hero.

Oh, what a naïve little child you were–

A shooting star.

Something in you shifts, then settles, a breathless laugh leaving your lips as you hugged your folded knees tighter.

Was it wishful thinking if you wished you could be like Andromeda and be saved? Or were you still naïve?

And there it was, the Minotaur.

Hulking, maddening like he remembered that night.

The night it took away (Y/N).

It was big, bigger than anything he’s ever faced. And strong, too.

With a flick of its arm, Kiyoomi was on the side of the balcony, hitting his head against the wall. It was also fast.

However, that doesn’t mean he would yield, nor would he surrender.

He tightened his grip on his sword, expression hardened, darkened at the sight of it.

He trained like crazy after that night, worked himself to the bone to match the crazy stamina levels of one Hinata Shouyo, and strength of Bokuto Koutarou. Precision and skills were his greatest feats, but he had to be cunning and nasty like that of Miya Atsumu. Also, he had to be reserved and patient, like that of Miya Osamu.

Before him, the Minotaur let out a mighty roar, echoing through the walls, dragging its hooves readily.

Kiyoomi never let go of his sword, neither did he drop his gaze at the Minotaur.

The air was thick, heady.

A beat.

And then they both charged.

“Hey, Tsumu-Tsumu, Myaa-Sam?”

The fire crackled in front of them, burning the iron pot above it, the smell of beef stew filling in.

“Do you think Omi can save (Y/N)-chan?”

The dark-haired twin stopped stirring the pot, the blonde-dyed twin stared into the fire, clasped hand gripping tighter. A brown-haired man perked at the sound of his cousin’s name, watching the men in silence.

The fire danced, wood snapping once, then twice, before it broke into two.

And then, “What kinda stupid questions is that, Bokkun?” Atsumu smirks.

“No one’s crazy enough like him, too,” Osamu added, dropping a few spices in.

Motoya smiled, honored on behalf of his cousin at the twins’ words.

Carefully, the lid was placed in, leaving a little space for the stew to simmer for few more minutes.

A dull pain hummed in his head, followed by a sharp pain that was sure to be from a broken rib. Breathing in was torturous, heaving laboring breaths through his nose and out his mouth.

Before him, the horned-beast huffed, sporting the stabs Kiyoomi had given him.

Yet, it stood there still while he was worse for wear.

The oracle's words rang through his head again, warning him that going in was the same as wishing for a death sentence.

And yet, Kiyoomi willingly accepted in, knowing full well of the risks and consequences - because he's had a whole year to think about them from the hollowness of his chest.

Powered by his quick-wit and strategic mind, he was also powered by the thought of seeing you again.

You were the one thing that kept him going.

You were the light in the dark.

You were a beacon he was desperate to follow.

You were the only thing that mattered.

Getting to his feet, ignoring how his body screamed in pain, he lifted his sword.

Angered, Minotaur charged again, head lowered, horns ready to skewer him.

Kiyoomi didn't move, only shifted his position.

When it was close enough, he raised his sword.

"Hey, Kiyoomi?"

"What,"

"If there was one thing in the world that you could have, what would it be?"

"..."

"Like, you could ask for anything - power, gold, magical abilities, a nice exotic pet, what would it be?"

"..."

"Oh? What a silence."

"What a question,"

"Well? What would you want?"

"Umeboshi."

"Kiyoomi, you're just playing with me aren't you?"

It shouldn't be a question, because he already knew the answer.

You.

All Kiyoomi ever wanted in the whole world was you.

And there you were.

Basked in the moonlight, your (h/c) was longer, falling over your frame, barefooted on the grass – looking like a goddess.

His chest heaves heavily with every exhale, weary from his long battle with the Minotaur, never minding the pain and bruises, all he could see was you.

You.

After all this time.

"(Y/N)..."

You looked up in surprise, his voice cutting through the silence, and got to your feet. Staring at him in shock.

It's been so long.

Too long.

Far too long.

A year and a half was long enough for him to meet your (e/c) eyes, to see your face, to be in the same room.

"K-Kiyoomi..."

He felt his heart beating, coming to life.

Dropping his sword, letting it clatter to the ground, he slowly walked, staggering in his steps, until he was in front of you.

What an image, a knight in shining armor, bloodied and bruised- did he kill the Minotaur?!

His hair was longer, slightly greasy, you noticed in shock. He was no way vain, but he liked to look clean and proper. But since you’ve been gone, he’s forgotten to take care of himself.

Suddenly, fear gnawed at his heart, remembering the last time he saw you, remembering the last words he said to you. Did you hate him? Did you fear him?

“Kiyoomi!”

And then, you were in each other’s arms, breaking down and crying, holding each other so tight in fear that someone or something would tear you two together again. Both of you collapsed to your knees, refusing to let the other go.

Kiyoomi’s cries were silent, but the relief that washed over him from a year’s worth of guilt and regret, of finally having you in his arms, it made was indescribable.

“(Y/N),” he says your name, like it’s the holiest thing to say, his saving grace. “(Y/N)!”

Hearing your name in his voice, after so long, it made you cry even harder. Kiyoomi kept holding you as you cried, rocking you back and forth.

Something hot and wet lands on your head, followed by Kiyoomi’s voice repeatedly saying your name.

Sorry, he wants to say ‘I’m sorry’, but the words were lodged in his throat. He wants to apologize, desperately apologize for hurting her. He wants to get on his knees.

Instead, he cries into her shoulder, relief continues to wash over him because he’s hugging you again, feeling you in his arms again and hearing your cries.

Pulling away, hands desperately clung to the other’s face – smoothing through the skin, memorizing the feel beneath their fingers, eyes drinking them in.

Finally, Kiyoomi does the one thing he’s been dying to do for years. He kisses you.

It’s everything he thought it would be – magical, spectacular, burning, and amazing, especially when you kiss him back. One hand holds his shoulder, the other snakes its way to his hair, gripping and grounding.

Uncaring of the snot and tears, he presses his lips against yours with much urgency, hoping to pour years’ worth of pining and affection he’s had for you. Pulling away for the second time, to breathe, he finger combs strands of hair away before cupping you by the back of your head, dark onyx eyes softening at the sight of you, enjoying the flush in your cheeks and the love in your eyes.

“I love you,”

Both of you said it at the same time, much to both your shock.

Eventually, both of you laughed, foreheads pressing.

It was a long time running and both of you were such fools.

When dawn broke out the next day, two figures were seen leaving the labyrinth hand-in-hand, as though they didn’t want to let go. The camp stirred awake, then the Miya brothers stumbled at the figures before they rushed – practically raced, over to meet their rescued sister. Soon, a brown-haired man rushed up to greet his cousin, a few more calls and more men rushed up to meet the two.

Behind them, the labyrinth magically disappeared without a trace.

However, it wasn’t important.

For what’s important was that the third prince of Itachiyama, the commander of the Royal Guard, finally got his heart back.

[ola-elaina]

Hellllo! A request of comfort Peter when reader is sad? Any scenario you want just a good ole comfort Peter🥺

STARRY NIGHT

Summary: peter brings y/n for some stargazing

Word Count: 1.3k

"Where are we going, Peter?"

"Just trust me, okay?"

You nodded but hesitance still evident in your eyes. Peter sighed, moving closer to you. The cold wind of the night blew past the two of you as you stand in the rooftop of your apartment building. He took the strand of hair that covered your face and tucked it behind your ear.

It's been two months since you last went to school.

The bags under your eyes showed how much sleep you have gotten, or lack thereof. The last time Peter or any of your friends have seen you was at the funeral. Whenever they tried to contact you, your response would only be short, blatantly dismissing them. Sometimes not even bothering to respond at all.

They understood what you're feeling. And if anybody can really feel what you were going through, it's Peter. He has lost numerous significant people in his life and he can vouch that it's not easy to lose someone dearly close.

Your friends knew you were strong and that you were capable of getting through your grief. They have given you all the space you asked for. But if they let you fall deeper into the pit of sorrow for longer, you're going to have a difficult time coming back up.

So, Peter came up with something to make you slightly better. He knew it would not suddenly turn you back to the bubbly Y/N he knew but it could be one step towards progress.

"Hold on tight." Peter muttered softly as he wrapped your arms around his neck, one of his arms holding you against him securely, pulling down his mask to cover his face.

Peter shot his web at the opposite building swinging the both of you through the bustling city. Your legs wrapped tighter around his torso when you felt him jump off your rooftop. The wind becomes colder as it hits your exposed skin, goosebumps covering your body.

As Peter swung through the busy street of Queens, he heard you whimpered against his shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay." He repeated, giving your waist a comforting squeeze.

"Don't drop me." You whispered, making him chuckle.

"I won't. Don't look down." He recalled how easily sick you get when he tried to swing you back to your apartment a couple times. "We'll be there in no time."

You buried your face deeper on his shoulder.

A couple minutes later, you felt him touch solid ground when he walked a couple steps. "We're here." Looking up, you saw that it was a grassy cliff, looking over the river.

You looked around, it was quite far from the city as the towering buildings were seen at a distance -- the stars now visible. There weren't a lot of them but make out a few of them.

A smile breaking out of your face, for the first time after months. And you didn't even realize. Peter felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

He took the advantage of you being distracted to make a hammock made from webs — since he forgot to bring a blanket, it'll do.

Once he's finished, he clears his throat to catch your attention. He pressed the symbol of his suit in the middle of his chest, retracting it. He's now wearing some hoodie and pants. Peter moved aside, showing you a hammock he built.

"Do you... want to lie down? So you can see the stars better?"

You gave him a smile, nodding your head 'yes'. He leaped on the hammock, offering a hand to help you up. Once the both of you were up there, he spread his left arm, letting you use his open arm as a pillow and snuggle to his side.

Peter pushed his feet a couple times to make the hammock rock back and forth. The two of you stayed like that for God knows how long. Letting the breeze past by, the shining stars hang above your heads and the warmth presence of each other keeping yourselves comfortable.

"Gummy worm?" He offered.

You took one, your cold fingers brushing with his warm ones. "How did you find this place?"

"I was patrolling one night. Didn't notice I was getting a little too far from the city then I found this place."

"It's beautiful." You mumbled.

Peter nodded, humming, tangling his fingers with yours.

"I come here once in a while. To clear my head."

After locking yourself in your room, refusing to see anybody. Peter didn't have anywhere to go after patrolling. Usually, the two of you would meet up at the rooftop of your apartment building — exchanging stories , doing homework or just enjoying each other's company.

This is where we went to the past couple weeks.

Peter knew how much you loved stars. He helped you hang fairy lights at your balcony and stick some glow in the dark stars in the ceiling of your room one time because you missed seeing real ones.

"My brother and I—”You paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.

Peter squeezed your hand comfortingly.

Letting out a shaky breath, you shook your head. "Every saturday, he would take me out of the city to see the stars. He would do it every single time. To not fail." The memory made your eyes water.

"He would bring telescopes and teach me the names and the history behind it. We would talk about them for hours until our mom calls to remind us to go home." You chuckled through the heavy feeling building up on your chest.

It was the first time you have talked about your brother after he passed. When people tried to, you would immediately look away, even your parents.

"After he died, I couldn't even look at the stars on my ceiling, the fairy lights in the balcony or the photos and sketches of stars we made that are sticked to our shared cork board." You confessed.

"I couldn't look at them the same." You looked up at Peter's eyes, letting the tears in your eyes fall unashamedly. "They reminded me of him, it reminded me that he was gone and that I'll never be able to look up at the stars with him again."

Peter caged you in his arms, allowing you to sob in his chest.

"How do you do it, Peter?" You asked. "How can you be so strong after everything you went through? It hurts. It's been months and the pain still felt like it only happened yesterday. How do you get through that?"

"You don't." He whispered, tightening his arms around you. "You learn to live with it. It won't be easy. It won't happen suddenly. It's still a long way but you'll be able to. You're strong, Y/N. I believe that, your parents believe that, and I'm sure your brother does too."

"My uncle Ben used to tell me that people become stars when they die." He continued, making you look at the dark sky littered with stars. Peter reached down in his hoodie pocket, grabbing a piece of paper.

Wiping your eyes, you sat up slightly, he followed. He looked down at it before fixing his eyes with yours.

"I had to pull some serious strings for this one. But I—” You watched him curiously as he held the paper out to you. "Do you see that star over there?"

He pointed up at the bright shining star, you nodded. He motioned to the paper you were holding as if saying 'read it'. When you did, you realized what was printed on it.

It was a certificate, naming a star after your brother. It had his full name printed at the center.

The sweet gesture made your heart feel like it swelled twice its size, more tears started to spill from your eyes. Your fingers trembled as you run them on the letters that spelled out your brother's name.

Peter reached your tear-covered face, wiping them away with his thumbs. "They may not be physically with us anymore. But they're not completely gone. They're up there. In the sky, watching us from above."

thanks for reading!

a/n: sorry for the delay with requests. tags were acting funny these past couple weeks so i’m only able to put the ones i already wrote right now + some of them i haven’t even made yet bc i’m not really in the headspace to write at the noment :(

taglists open! message me if anybody wants to be added <3

peter parker taglist:

@starlight-starks

@awesomebooklover17

permanent taglist:

@dummiesshort

@ladykxxx08

[refriedweeb]

I MISSED YOU QUITE TERRIBLY (SHINSOU + FEM!READER FLUFF)

A/N: I’ve been feeling sad af about my love life lately so the next few pieces are gonna be fluff and love and soft feels bc I need

Prompt: You had a long, sad day for absolutely no reason. Shinsou picks up on this the second you’re through the door and knowing what it’s like to be on the outs mentally, he takes care of you.

Word Count: 2,183

There were some days where you were just sad. For no reason at all. There didn’t need to be one because sometimes the mind was just cruel, and there was nothing you or anyone else could do about it. It hadn’t mattered whether you had a good day, a great day, or even an okay day. Sadness was something that didn’t care about how happy you were in the moments before, it only cared about showing up to pull your day down like an metaphorical rain cloud over your sunny day.

Today had been one of those days for you. Nothing had gone the way you planned or expected, and it seemed like one thing after another just unraveled any survival of a good mood. The media was full of such negativity, what you consumed warping into negative thoughts about yourself. Those negative thoughts about yourself transformed into reliving sad pieces of your life in the years prior, lost friendships and loved ones that always made your heart feel a little heavier. It’d been a slow day at the agency for you, thankfully your district’s criminals seems to know that you needed a day of simple rest. The paperwork you had done droned on and on, however, and you felt trapped in the proverbial vortex of negative thoughts, emotions, and experiences.

By the time you left your agency, you’d been fighting back tears. Nothing had happened specifically, and maybe that was why you were so frustrated by the overwhelming emotion you felt. If there was something you could pinpoint as the reason for your sadness, for the tears that bit at the corner of your eyes, you could have fixed it. But it didn’t work like that, and you were stuck with the emotions you didn’t know how to handle. The trip back to the place you shared with Shinsou Hitoshi was a long one, a lonely one. All you wanted to do was fall into your bed and sleep away the remainder of a shitty day, and fall right into his arms.

Shinsou might not have been the best at speaking to his emotions, or even getting you to talk about yours, but he never judged you for the bad days you had. Never asked you to explain anything that didn’t come easily. He never better than most the weight of a bad mental health day and how it could change the trajectory of anything positive you had going for you. He had spent most of his middle school career and time at UA dealing with the crisis of his desire to be a hero with the conflicting public opinion he was bound for a path with villains. It’s warped how he viewed himself, how he presented himself and interacted with others. Such a way of seeing himself was something he’d been trying to unlearn, especially now as he was a hero, but taught perceptions of yourself never lifted as easily as you’d expect. So, yes, Shinsou understood that some days were just worse than others and your brain could be an awfully cruel thing when you’d done nothing wrong to provoke it.

He’d been home for a while by the time you returned, seated in the large love seat of your place with a book he was idly picking through. He’d lazily just finished turning the page, one finger moving the ear of it when you walked in. Shades of lavender and amethyst colored eyes flickered up to look at you, his expression narrowing as his brows pulled over his sunken eyes. “Welcome back, love.” It wasn’t hard to pick up on your dejected emotion. It practically hung over you in the physical realm, and he closed his book. He uncrossed his legs, leaning forward in his chair. When he spoke next, his voice was soft, absent of the usual snark that you usually greeted one another with after a long day away from your security. “Everything alright?”

You finished hanging up your coat and turned around. The expression on your face was one of a pout, and Shinsou couldn’t help but think you looked like a little child who had been told they couldn’t have a cookie before dinner. A moment of pause lapsed between you before you answered. “I’m sad today.”

Shinsou let out a little hum and pushed himself to his feet. You, on the other hand didn’t move as he strode over to you, your lower lip starting to wobble with the tears you’d been holding back on the commute home. Wordlessly, Shinsou wrapped you into a hug and pulled you close to the well defined muscle of his chest. Immediately, you were overwhelmed with the comfort of being close to him. The smell of soap, sea salt, and smoke. It was a smell that was so intrinsically him you didn’t think you’d be able to associate those smells by themselves without thinking of him. His hand wrapped around your waist, the other smoothing down the back of your head. A sniffle escaped you, only causing him to squeeze you tighter against his form. “I know, love.” he whispered, his head turned in to kiss at your temple. “I know it’s hard.”

You clung to his shirt, the material fisted in your hands. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, you buried your face into his chest and dampened his t-shirt. Shinsou didn’t say anything, but kept you cradled tightly into his chest for what felt like a lifetime. He rocked you from side to side, shh-ing you when you tried to talk to explain yourself, to apologize for being such a mess. It wasn’t anything he wanted to hear, because he wasn’t bothered by it. Your emotions to him were valid. Anything you felt regardless of why you felt it mattered to him, and he wouldn’t have dreamed of trying to nullify any of what you were feeling in that moment. To Shinsou, you were one of the most important people he’d ever had in his life. Anything he could do to help you, to continue loving and supporting you, he’d do in a heartbeat. His head rested on top of yours, a small smile on his face.

How many times had you done this for him? It seemed like an endless string of times he’d come home just as dejected and sad as you were. And each time, without fail, you wrapped him up in your arms, having pushed him down onto his knees so you could embrace him fully, get into the same positioning you were in right then. Whisper the words of affirmation that he needed, that he wasn’t wasting his time, that he mattered, that what he did in the world mattered. He’d always thought it was impossible to be loved in a way that existed for everyone else because of his quirk. You’d come along and changed everything about that within a matter of months, and since then Shinsou hadn’t looked back. Didn’t want to. He let out a low breath, pulled back so that he could look at you.

His thumbs grazed over your cheeks, under red and puffy eyes from the tears you’d cried. The sight of you, someone who he respected and thought was so strong and indestructible looking so innocent and small, made him smile. “Come on, kitten, let's get you into bed.” His voice was gentle, and he leaned in to press a chaste kiss against your forehead. He waited until you nodded. Once you did, Shinsou scooped down and hooked an arm around the back of your knees, picking you up bridal style. 

As he walked you to the bedroom suite, you buried your face in against the juncture of his neck. Breathed in that lovely smell of him once more, fingers idly playing with the lilac hair at the nape of his neck. This was all you’d wanted, all you’d needed after having such a down reason. With Shinsou, you felt safe. You felt protected and cared for in a way you hadn’t experienced with relationships past. Frankly, you couldn’t imagine your life with anyone else. 

Shinsou dropped you onto the bed with an uneventful plop, before he motioned for you to lift your arms up. You followed his command, unable to look away from him as he took the hem of your shirt and hoisted it above your head. Tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor. He pressed a kiss to each of your collarbones as he reached behind you, unhooked your bra and did the same toss over his shoulder. The nonchalance of his actions pulled a small smile accompanied with a small burst of laughter. His heart fluttered, and he leaned in to kiss you on the mouth before he went to his dresser and pulled out a worn in t-shirt of his that he saved for working out. Shinsou walked back to where you had been situated, taking a slow moment to appreciate the form of your body. One of the things he loved about you, but not the thing he loved about you. The t-shirt fell over your head and arms, the opening hole of the top getting stuck over the top of your head. A chuckle passed between the two of you as he gave it a tug before it fell shapelessly around your torso.

“Up, love.” You obeyed, Shinsou squatting down to undo the button and zipper on the pants you wore. As he pulled the material down over your legs, he kissed the fronts and sides of your thighs. He wasn’t trying to initiate anything, that subject matter the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. The pants were also tossed without a care. You flopped back on the bed, clad in one of his shirts and your underwear, staring up at him as he ran his thumb over your cheek before disappearing into the bathroom. He returned a short moment later with a warm, wet cloth that he ran gently over your face. “Because I know you hate sleeping in your makeup and waking up feeling gross.” he murmured, lavender eyes leaned down to your level as he reached out with it. One hand held your chin gently, the other massaging the cloth of your eyes, cheeks, and forehead as the makeup wiped away. Bare faced, cheeks and eyes still pink from the tears you’d been crying, Shinsou didn’t think you looked any better. 

“There,” he said, also tossing the wash cloth to the side. Then, it was his turn. He pulled his shirt over his head, leaving you to watch the contortion and pull of  the chiseled out muscles of his torso and arms. He caught you staring, and shook his head as a blush crept over his cheeks. His pants followed shortly after, leaving him in a pair of cotton boxer briefs the color of deep teal. You reached out a hand, your fingers trailing over the smattering of indigo hair that ran from his naval and disappeared under the waistband of his underwear. The muscles of his abdomen constricted, and Shinsou reached out and took your hand from where you’d been tracing, kissing it instead. “Not tonight, yeah?”

He already knew you weren’t up to the usual ruckus you two caused when having sex. Tonight he just wanted to be gentle with you, to hold you and all that sadness you’d carried around during the day. And you knew you weren’t exactly up for a wild night spend between the sheets, either. You just liked to touch him. Not disappointed, you crawled under the duvet of your bed, looking behind you as Shinsou crawled in after you, the duvet tucked behind him as he settled in. Pulled you back against his chest and enveloped you in his warmth once more. His hand melded with yours, fingers intertwined as he pulled you closer. The warmth of his bare skin ran through the shirt you wore, and you started to feel the heaviness from the day melt away. It wouldn’t eliminate it by any means, but it certainly lessened it. This was something Shinsou knew, and he pressed a kiss behind your ear, nuzzled in against you. 

“I love you,” you said, cradled in the warmth and safety of the person you loved. The person who loved you back just the same. Your eyes started to grow heavy, and soon you were fighting to keep them open. 

“I love you most.” Shinsou murmured in your ear, his tone one that was fighting off sleep just the same as you were. 

Moments later, you were asleep. Shinsou, though growing more and more tired himself, still awake. But he didn't mind listening to the sound of your breathing as it deepened, as you relaxed against him entirely. He was more than content to just lay there with you in his arms, satisfied with life in that moment that he’d been able to help you in some way. Eventually, his eyes lost their battle to stay open, and he drifted into a dream world all his own. 

[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Guess What…

… New fandom???

I’m gonna actually holding off on tagging this as Hakuoki atm bc… I dunno. I’m scared of bringing my particular brand of odd to the tag (I say, about an apparently incredibly historically accurate yet fictional dating visual novel about samurai vampires…), but… Here we are.

Look, this is Sunagawa’s fault, if the man weren’t so goddamned good at acting, I wouldn’t be here.

Or maybe I would. Who knows.

Actually, @fluttering-by, bc this is also your fault (affectionate/grateful).

~I’m trying desperately to find a replacement for the horizontal line and failing~

“You lied to me.”

The words aren’t so much angry as hurt, trembling slightly—Miki’s shoulders were taut, but more in the way of nerves, huddling into himself rather than readying for a fight. He hovered by the end of the table, one hand by his side, anxiously pulling at the hems of his sleeves absently, the other fidgeting on the hilt of his sword. He was looking more at his boots than Koudou, an odd appearance on one as tall as he was, with a katana in his sash—and yet, when he felt the doctor’s gaze on him, he looked even further down, biting his lip.

Koudou sighed deeply, straightening up from the table, setting the bottles he was had been looking through aside and wiping his hands off before turning to face the young man. “It wasn’t a lie. It is merely a process.” Miki said nothing in reply, his hands merely tensing even more, teeth sinking further into his lip. He truly was so easy to read.

In a few measured steps, the doctor came level with the young man and reached out, tucking his hand under Miki’s chin gently to tip the young man’s face back up. The very first time they had met, when he had reached out like this, Miki had jerked away with a proud glare—now the young man didn’t move back at all, allowing Koudou to lift his head up to reveal unguarded, confused, and wounded eyes beneath his bangs. The nights spent tending to the Miki’s transition into a Fury, wiping the blood from his mouth when needed had apparently won him over. He had taken miraculously well to the basic kindness, combined with honest praise for being such a successful test—where Miki had once maintained a brash and arrogant veneer, Koudou was now privy to the gaze of an insecure, innocent young man filled with desperate pleading. Underneath the spiky shell, he was such a simple soul, longing for worth and guidance—when dangled before him, he scrambled eagerly for them like an abandoned puppy.

When Koudou smiled at him with practiced warmth, that naive eagerness blossomed, waiting to be reassured. The doctor remained silent for another moment, gaze flickering over Miki’s face for a little longer. “… Have your injuries healed completely?” He didn’t need to feign the concern in the question—the young man was the most successful, responsive specimen he had ever had; losing him would be a significant setback he could not afford.

Miki hesitated for a moment, put off by the change in subject, but eventually nodded slightly, chin bumping against Koudou’s hand. The doctor gave him a quick once over just in case, slowly lowering his arm—although the young man hadn’t been one for deceit even before letting his guard down, it was best to be sure—and was satisfied with the response. There were a few remnant marks from mostly-healed wounds, but no actual damage. Good; what he needed to do today was going to be rather… Invasive, and he preferred that Miki be in full health for the procedure.

The young man’s gaze turned curious. “… Why?”

“Like I said, it’s a process.” He made certain to hold Miki’s wide-eyed gaze the entire time. “Thanks to you, I’ve already found a method of mitigating the energy consumption.”

The young man watched him with more uncertainty than he had before—but not enough for concern. “… What is it?”

The question wasn’t new, either, and he was already giving another smile of studied reassurance before the words had finished leaving Miki’s lips. “There now,” When the young man looked away nervously, Koudou brought his hand back up to hold Miki’s chin once more, gently turning his face back forward. In a last second addition, he brushed his thumb over the young man’s cheek briefly, noting how Miki’s head tilted slightly into the touch, eyes darting back to the doctor’s face, “You trust me, don’t you, Saburo?”

The silence that followed was longer than it had ever been before, but Koudou wasn’t terribly concerned—he could still plainly track every thought that ran through the young man’s head, displayed clearly on his face. There was some hesitation, but nothing strong enough to make him think Miki would refuse. The young man was desperate, both for worth and for the means to avenge his family—a raw, determined, consuming rage fuelled by grief that Koudou easily recognised as kin to his own. They were like spirits, in some ways—enough that he knew Miki would never back down from the promise of a chance to achieve his goal. One of the things besides his uniqueness as a test subject that made the doctor almost… Fond of him.

At last, the conflict in Miki’s eyes dissipated, and the telltale nod came, the young man’s chin tapping against Koudou’s fingers once more. The doctor gave him another soft smile, releasing his face and turning back towards the table. “Put that aside, please.” He instructed, lightly gesturing to Miki’s katana. He heard the sound of cloth and motion behind the sounds of him readying supplies. Turning back with the appropriate cloth and bottle in hand, he was unsurprised to find the young man had obeyed, the sword leaning against the wall. Yet another pleasant trait—finding a cooperative subject was almost as rare as finding one that took to the procedure as well as Miki. “And you should sit down.” He didn’t look up from the precious task of pouring the liquid onto the fabric, but again he heard the rustle of silk as the young man sank down onto the straw mat covering the corner of the room, next to the futon. Another good thing—it would be best to not have to move him too far. He really needed to see about finding a new exam table.

Putting away the closed bottle, he took the soaked cloth in his hand, crossing the room in measured steps to kneel behind the young man’s shoulder. Miki was staring either at the floor or his hands in his lap from lowered lids, biting his lip slightly, still a bit tense. Well, in a fashion, this would help with that. As a forewarning, he reached up and gently smoothed his free hand over the young man’s hair, noting the instinctive start at the sudden touch. Lingering for a moment to be sure Miki was calm, Koudou’s hand drifted to the back of the young man’s head, fingers tangling slightly in his hair for grip. Then he raised his other hand to set the cloth over Miki’s nose and mouth.

The young man stiffened immediately, resisting on impulse, but the doctor’s hand tightened on his hair, pulling Miki against him to keep the cloth over his face. “Shh… It’s alright… It’s alright…” He doubted the words were understood, but that didn’t matter—what was most important was a level tone, “Just breathe… Take deep breaths…” He positioned his arms around the young man to contain him, combing his fingers through the small tangles in Miki’s hair as if to sooth a panicky animal, continuing to murmur softly. The young man continued twisting a bit, hands grasping instinctively at the doctor’s arm, but he managed to maintain enough control to not actually pull hard enough to dislodge the cloth from his face. It took effort—Koudou could feel him trembling, and tears began to well in his eyes, catching in the lashes.

The doctor drew him even closer, folding over him a bit, counting silently as the young man struggled to take slow, heavy breaths. “Do not be afraid, Miki Saburo,” He whispered, smoothing his hand over Miki’s hair in a steady, constant rhythm, in time with each inhale and exhale, “You are my greatest success—I would never cause you unnecessary pain.”

At long last, Miki blearily mumbled something, and his eyes finally closed over the tears brimming in them. The word was muffled by the fabric, and the way his head lolled sideways as his body went fully limp, pressing his face into Koudou’s chest, but… It sounded like ‘aniki.’

Koudou held him for a little longer, running a hand over his hair a few more times, more slowly, until the young man’s breathing levelled out completely. Once he was satisfied Miki was completely under, he slowly unwrapped his arms from around the thin shoulders, tossing the fabric he’d used into the laundry. In the next moment, he guided the unconscious form in his hold over to the futon, cushioning the young man’s head on the pillow carefully, with the same attention he had bequeathed to injured animals in the past.

Under anaesthesia, all the anger and frown lines in Miki’s face smoothed out, easing the weariness that the rage and grief had added to his appearance. The tears that had been partially formed in his eyes were smeared across his cheeks, dripping onto the bedding, leaving small stains in the cloth. When not standing tense like a tightly coiled spring, his body was slender, delicate—all awkward angles and youthful softness.

He looked… He was… So young. He couldn’t be much older than Chizuru—two or three years, at most. Barely more than a boy.

Somebody’s child, whispered a voice in the back of Koudou’s mind, as he watched Miki’s tear streaked face, somebody’s son.

A softness he hadn’t felt in years gathered in his chest as he watched the young man—the boy—sleep. Under the influence of the chemicals, there were no twitches or movement—if not for the languid rise and fall of Miki’s chest and the fact that he wasn’t quite pale enough, he could have passed for a corpse. Another child caught up in a conflict that had been brewing for long before he was born, one that would likely destroy him.

Koudou sighed, closing his eyes for a moment to collect himself. There was no purpose to these lingering emotions—he had no use for them, they served no purpose to his goal. He might not savour using as innocent a soul as Miki, but he didn’t have a choice. Not when the boy was the foremost amongst all his attempts. A pity, yes, but he couldn’t lose so precious a specimen.

Opening his eyes, he took one last deep breath, then reached out to brush the wayward strands of hair away from Miki’s face. He’d wasted enough time—he needed to get to work. He had been able to brew a brand of chloroform that was sufficiently effective on Furies, but it didn’t last forever, and there was much to do. His posture shifting back into professionalism, he leaned further forward to arrange both the boy’s arms straight at his sides before getting to his feet and turning back towards the rest of the lab, to fetch his bag. It was time to get to work.

~I’m trying desperately to find a replacement for the horizontal line and failing~

Yeah, have I mentioned I MISS THE HORIZONTAL LINE BRING IT BACK TUMBLR I SUFFER.

Anyway. I. Uh. I finished a thing.

Bc by the by I love this musical/game/thing now. It has soothed my frustrations so much. I’m gonna now go and listen again bc I’m starting to get kinda salty and it is like the magical ‘Detox the Fire’ button. Or maybe that’s just Sunagawa singing.

[jay-and-dean]

Frozen Sleep

(Dean x Reader)

This is a request by @acklesterritory​ :

So I'm just wanna take my chance and request a Dean x Reader imagination where the reader got hypothermia and Dean had to rescue her and take care of her all by himself bc there is a scary storm out there and Cas is somewhere else doing angel stuff. And all he got as help is Sammy who's arm is already broken in the last haunt. All angst and fluff. May I ask? 😍

Words :  4.4 k

Warnings : Hurt reader obviously. A hint of Angst. Fluff. Fluffy Smut.

Words : 2.4 k

Note : I wanted to do this one  because I do have a condition that makes me have hypothermias easily and so I really hate cold.

This is written both on Reader and Dean’s Pov

Want to read more => ***MASTERLIST***

____________________

Reader’s Pov

             One step after the other. One step after the other… One step…

Dean is so strong, look at him, his footsteps crush the snow like it was nothing, when it’s basically biting my legs with each movement.

           He’s holding my hand and it’s the only part of my body that is not horribly painful. The wind is made of needles, each snowflake that touches me feels like somebody was beating me up… And right now, thousands of them are harassing my body all at once, every second.

           He walks too fast… And his legs are so long, how am I supposed to follow ?

           Sam tells him something but I can’t hear it… the wind is deafening and the pain… It’s screaming in my ears.

           Dean turns toward me, but I can’t see him clearly because of that darkness everywhere, or is it in my eyes ? Even the threatening white of that harrowing snow is dark.

“Y/n ? Look at me… Less than two miles, I promise…”

I try to answer, to show him I’m strong, but no words come out of my mouth.

“I know you’re cold… We… We will make it okay ? You stay with me sweetheart.”

 Dean’s Pov

             Sam is right, she’s won’t make it to the cabin, not like that. Her eyes are slightly rolling and she’s having trouble to speak : Hypothermia.

“I know you’re cold… We… We will make it okay ? You stay with me sweetheart.”

Stay with me… Y/n stay with me I’m begging you.

           The storm is becoming worse, and walking against it seems almost impossible, but we have too. She has no one, no one but me. Our phones are dead, cold killed their batteries, and there is no service anyway. Sam is hurt, his arm in that stupid cast, his ribs broken… I don’t even know how he can still be walking without any complain.

“I will carry her” I tell him but he shakes his head.

“Dean… She’s having hypothermia, i-if you carry her… she will fall asleep.”

“Son of a bitch !” I yell, but the storm suffocates my anger.

           She’s shaking like she was going to convulse, her hand is so cold that I feel like tugging at a corpse arm.

           I’m so scared. I’m so angry. And I’m so cold.

           Y/n, she… She can’t die. I can’t lose her, and Sam knows that, that’s why he’s looking at me like someone had shoot my puppy. Dammit yesterday morning, yesterday morning I did it again…

“Y/n, you hold on, I need you to hold on” I get closer, wrapping my arms around her waist, like I could give her a little of my heat. I would give it all of it if I could. “Hold on sweetheart.”

 Reader’s Pov

             I wish I could feel him, when he wraps that strong arm around me, but I don’t feel anything but pain and we wear too much clothes anyway.

           I would give anything to feel him. To feel is skin stick to my fingers because of sweat, his muscles roll under my palms while he buries himself between my legs.

That’s where I love him the most : between my legs. And I never told him.

           I feel dizzy, and the snowflakes don’t melt on my skin anymore, so my lashes are covered in them. I can’t see clearly.

           What happens when we die ? I mean, I know what happens after… I have that privilege, -or maybe it’s a curse-. But just… dying. I know a man or two that actually lived that a few times… I could ask…them -I’m so tired-… if… that… feels… like… that…

“Y/n !” Dean’s voice make my heart beat suddenly too fast, and too strong. “Sammy, she really can’t walk… If we don’t make it to the cabin…”

His voice is different, I never heard it like that. He’s worried, scared maybe even, and I know him, he feels responsible, he always does.

           I want to tell him everything is going to be okay, but I never lied to Dean, and right now, I feel like I’m dying.

           I can’t. Dean has suffered so much, he can’t lose another friend, not in his arms, not again… Who will wake him up from nightmares ? Who will make him homemade pies ? Who will be here, when he doesn’t want to spend the night alone ? When he needs the comfort of caresses and kisses, when he needs to hide from the world deep inside of me ?

“I can w-walk” I say, the air ripping my lungs coming out of it.

But my heartbeats… They’re singing a song I don’t know.

 Dean’s Pov

             I can feel my jaw tremble and I have no idea if it’s cold, or that awful fear.

“I can w-walk” she mutters weakly, but after ten more steps, she falls on her knees in the deep snow before I can catch her. And seeing her body fail like this, it rips my heart in half.

“Y/n !”

I squat to take her in my arms, and let out a groan of effort when I lift both our bodies. I feel weak, and the cold is biting my legs, but I would carry her across the world if I had too.

           Bridal style, in my arms, she rests her head on my shoulder, but with a harsh shake of it, I make her move it, forbidding rest.

“Don’t fall asleep, talk to me. If you stop talking, I put you on the ground again, understood ?”

“Y-yes…” she whines.

I know she’s hurt, I know it’s so hard for her, and I want to cry just knowing how she must be struggling.

“I sh-shouldn’t have eaten all those pancakes f-for breakfast…” she tries to joke. “I wouldn’t be so heavy…”

“You’re as light as a feather sweetheart.”

Sam looks at us, that pained look on his face, he can see my thighs tetanize from cold and effort. He comes closer and wipes her pale face where snow is covering her quickly.

“People with hypothermia feel distracted, and tend to lose some memories, Y/n… Why don’t you try to focus on a memory, and tell us” he says kindly, blowing on her hands.

“Me-memory…” she whispers so low I wouldn’t have known if I wasn’t watching her blue lips. “I remember s-summer…” she starts.

“Of course you do” I fake a smile when she searches my face.

“That ghost in Tennessee… D-Dean was sick.”

“Damn rabbit food !” I grunt, remembering how bad that weird fruit had made me.

Sam wipes her face again, his good hand holding hers.

“I had to stay with you all night… Y-you w-were puking your guts…” she closes her eyes a little too long so I shake her a little, panic immediately electrocuting my spine.

But she doesn’t open them right away.

“Y/N !”

“A-and…” she continues like she hadn’t realize she passed out for a second. “Th-That was the first time I slept in his-your… Dean ?”

“I’m here” I state, almost choking on the frozen tears in my throat. “Keep talking beauty, we’re almost there.”

“What was I s-saying ?”

“That I got sick in Tennessee” I answer, frowning at Sam.

“Yeah… I slept next to you… and you t-took me in your arms.”

           I did. I took her in my arms that night. I had dreamed of doing it, and the night I finally overcome my fear of getting attached, I was sweating and smelled like vomit… I never stopped since then, I never stopped keeping her close. Struggling between the need of her and the fear of getting really involved, I kept snuggling up in her arms and pushing her away to protect her ; look where it got her.

“I wish I could perceive your smell… I-it always calms me… But I c-can’t smell anything. Or… maybe… the feathers are too heavy…”

“Y/n !” Sam calls. “Hey ! Look at me ! I have a memory I would like to share with you.”

He looks up at me, but his eyes are piercing me like he was praying to God knows who that this will catch her attention.

“Remember that night Dean got drunk and went out by himself ?”

I frown, and look down at her, begging my legs to make it to the cabin, counting in my head, if I can do three steps more, it means I can do ten, if I can do ten… Fuck why do my knees hurt so much, like ice was stuck on the cogs of it. Just like her, I try to focus on the story Sam is telling. She’s fighting so hard.

“I do…” she whines, like she was crying.

“Why did he left ?” Sam asks, slightly slapping her face now. The gesture makes me bite my cheek.

Stay with me, Y/n…

“He was in pain… I-I don’t remember why…”

I swallow hard. I was in pain because nothing felt right, because mom was gone, and Jack was gone… And I wanted her but I couldn’t do this anymore : Take her like she was mine, mark her body to feel like she belongs to me… And watch the hickeys from the other side of the room in the morning, while she doesn’t even try to hide them anymore.

Like yesterday morning, when I had to push her arm to get up and dress, when I saw the hurt in her eyes as she watched me leaves her again without a word…

“No need to remember why” Sam keeps talking to her. “What did you do that night ?”

What did she do ? What does he mean ?

“I… looked for a s-spell…”

“What spell ?” my brother insists.

“A spell t-to take his pain away…”

 Reader’s Pov

             My heart is not beating as usual and my legs are burning, like they were in flames… It’s been worse though, the pain is fading a little, or I’m just turning off… breathing is becoming hard. I feel like what Sam is asking is way beyond my strength. I just want to let go so bad.

“A spell t-to take his pain away…”

“Yes… Because seeing Dean suffer is unbearable, remember ? That’s what you told me that night. You were desperate to see him sad” Sam’s voice reaches me despite the wind.

I just wish Dean was here now… If I die and go to Heaven, I’m sure my Heaven will be him between my legs… I want that. I want that so bad. I let my head go back a little but I’m suddenly shaken…Wait… I open my eyes and see him just above me. My Dean. I could I forget…

“Now imagine the amount of pain he will feel if you let go right now” Sam says and I frown. “Imagine if you die in his arms now.”

I feel a sob escape my lips, but I’m not sure I’m actually crying, because my tears must have frozen.

“That’s unfair…” I whine, fighting against a cold that suddenly became more painful than it ever was, the frozen flames biting my muscles hard. “I can’t…”

“You can sweetheart” Dean says. “I need you with me.”

 Dean’s Pov

             Sam asked her to enumerate things, the seven deadly sins, the ways to kill a vampire, her favorite books… And she’s struggling, she’s so brave.

           My heart is in my throat. Y/n, she likes me a lot, I know that, I can feel it in the way she’s always trying to protect me from everything, in the way she always comes to my defense, in the way she comes so easily when I touch her, in the way she clings to me at night…

           But I don’t like her, I love her. Maybe she can feel it in the way I always push her away after having her close…

           What Sam said, what she said… If she loves me…

           I never knew that feeling. I mean, I keep on saying I am used to losing dear ones, but, one doesn’t get used to it. And, it was always so brutal, feeling someone slowly drift in my arms is different. Worse in a way.

And it’s Y/n…  

           My eyes widen and take a deep shaky breath.

“The cabin, sweetheart ! We made it !”

But she doesn’t answer.

“Y/n !” Sam calls but she’s not reacting to his little slaps. “Dean, we have to hurry.”

             When I enter the cabin, I stop counting my steps, and my legs let go. I fall heavily on my knees, felling the wood cut through my soaked jeans and frozen skin.

“Dean !” Sam calls, but all I can do is cling to her, and push her cheek with my nose.

“I’m okay” I groan. “Just close the door ! We need to warm her up !”

Sam closes the door and the wind gets trapped outside, I sigh in relief.

           With trembling hands I put her on the floor and starts taking her soaked jacket off, this wasn’t made for this weather. Underneath, her sweater is wet too, so I take it off. My own fingers are numb from that horrible cold so I struggle a little.

           Without asking anything, Sam takes the backpack I was carrying off of my back. Making me grunt at the impossibility of taking her clothes off more for a second.

“Y/n… Y/n… Don’t be in a coma… Please wake up… I’m begging you…” I keep calling her while I finally take her t-shirt off, leaving her pale body in just her pants and bra.

           I take my coat off and check my flannel, it’s not wet. Sam hands me the blanket that’s on the cabin’s bed, and I can see he hesitates to tell me to put her on the bed. I will. But right now, I’m not sure I can stand, and she needs to get rid of those damp freezing clothes as soon as possible.

           As I try to dress her with my flannel, I freak out : her inert body looks like she was already dead. My tears start to fall on her.

“Please baby… Help me with that okay…” but her arms fall like I’ve seen so many times on other people, less important people… “Please. You can’t leave me… I love you Y/n…”

           A sudden feeling of warmth wraps us with a comforting light. Sam managed to light up a fire in the old fireplace.

“Bring her here” he says.

I close the flannel on her body and let out a growl when I get up, just to make a few steps and fall on my knees again, cutting deeper in my skin, next to the fireplace. Her lips are blue. Sam checks her pulse while I wrap her in the cover, squeezing her tight against me.

“She’s here, she just fainted because her heart is slow” Sam says, sitting in a sore whine next to us.

He starts undoing her shoes and she whines a little when he tugs at it, taking her socks with it. That little sound is the first clue of her life, and my frozen heart starts to melt.

“Jesus Sam” I say when I see how blue her feet are.

I push her pants off, making sure her panties stays in place. Her legs are as blue as her feet, and bruises are forming on it from the blood not running correctly in her veins.

“You must be in so much pain, baby…” I whine, holding back my sobs.

           I cover her legs with the cover and my brother takes her feet between his thighs.

           Silence.

“She’s going to live Dean” Sam finally says in a serious frown, and only now, I notice how shaking he is, how soaked his hair.

“There are other blankets, Sammy, and pillows, look” I point at the couch with my chin, where another blanket and some dusty pillows lay. “Bring them all, take the blanket for you.”

He gets up and comes back with everything in his giant arms, even the couch’s big pillows.

“Your knees are bleeding, Dean” he says. “And you’re in your t-shirt.”

I nod, not really listening, she moved her face on my chest.

I push her hair, and notice some strands are frozen. So I bend my head, and put my lips on her forehead, determined to give her all my heat.

           Sam is trying to get things out of the bag, but his wounded body fights against him. He wants to give me water, but I won’t take my lips off her skin.

“We made the worst of it already, Dean, we’re only a few miles away from the Impala, the road and that diner where we had breakfast” Sam says. “We have food and water, so we will be okay.”

I’m not if she doesn’t wake up.

           All I can think of is all the times I didn’t enjoy waking up next to her. Now she might never come back from her frozen sleep, and I would give anything to come back to yesterday morning.

“I love her, Sam.”

“I know” he sighs.

“No I mean, I’m in love with her.”

“Yes, Dean, I know. You should tell her that. You will. Okay, Dean ? She’s not dead, she’s strong. You will tell her.”

 Reader’s Pov

             I open my eyes and the light seems to burn them in the corner. Something very warm is on my forehead, like a piece of ember, but soft.

           Little drops of water fall on my face… Where am I ?

           It suddenly comes back like a scream in my head, the storm, the pain, the snow digging holes to my flesh.

           Those drops are soft and warm. And my body still hurts so I’m not dead. I remember promising Sam I won’t, for Dean. My Dean. He’s cold too, where is he ?

“Dean…” I whisper.

“Y/n ?” the piece of soft ember moves and the smell of the man I love reaches my senses. “I’m here, Sweetheart.”

           I look up and he is here, just above me, tears on his face. He puts his forehead on mine and kiss the corner of my mouth.

           It’s night, it was not supposed to be night before a few hours…

“I can’t move” I say, still a little confused.

“Yes, you’re weak and I’m holding you close, look : You’re in a big blanket and there is a fireplace.”

“You’re shaking” I say. “And you’re in a t-shirt… Come in the cover with me.”

He chuckles, a few more tears reaching his chin.

“Don’t worry for me, Y/n…”

“I always do” I say, trying to move because I know how stubborn he is.

“Okay, okay…” he sighs.

           While he laboriously moves his body in a grunt, my mind slowly becomes clearer, and I turn my head to see Sam sleeping on the couch, with a too little blanket on his giant body.

“Is Sam okay ?” I frown.

“Yes… He’s just exhausted with those wounds and all, I gave him a strong pill for pain, it might have knocked him out, he tried to stay awake but he drifted at some point” Dean says, taking the blanket off of me to sit me between in legs. “I hope he’s not too cold, but I think the fire is keeping this room at a habitable temperature…”

I struggle to stay straight, so I let go my head back on his chest. He puts the both of us in the large blanket and wraps his arms around me. His body’s heat is like a bath, his thighs caging mine, his chin on my head. Paradoxically, I never felt so safe.

He will probably ignore me tomorrow, he will most likely suddenly act like we always were those simple friends, and make our passionate nights disappear with a friendly peck on my cheek ; but I don’t care…

           He grabs my weak legs to bend them against me, to make sure my feet are under the covers, and gently blows with his mouth wide open against my neck, to cover it with his hot breath.

           I can still fell the held back sobs against my back.

“Dean… Why are you crying ?” I dare, grabbing his hand in mine under the blanket.

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. I sigh and squeeze his hand in my still cold fingers, just to let him know that I am here.

“I thought you were going to die…” he whispers, his husky but smooth voice, so close to my ear. “You were frozen and… And sleeping this sleep that looks like death.”

“I’m sorry” I say, not sure what I can tell.

“Don’t be… I’m the one who brought us here.”

I can’t see him, but I feel his body contract and I know him by heart, so much I actually can picture his face in my head, with his jaw clenched, and that self-hatred darkness in his eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself…”

A dark chuckle.

“Dean… The storm wasn’t expected. And my clothes…” I sigh. “I need to buy a coat.”

“I could have given you mine” he grunts.

“Oh yeah and we both would be lying cold as ice somewhere in this forest… You saved me. Again.”

I love you.

He kisses the side of my neck and just behind my ear. His gesture is soft and pure, like it always is when he touches me, like it was meant to be…

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says low, his lips barely grazing my ear.

Yesterday ? Is he talking about yesterday morning ? He never does, he never talks about those times we have together, almost leaving me believing they were dreams.

“I’m a coward” he sighs, and his face nuzzles in the crook of my neck.

“You’re pretty far from that, Dean.”

“When it comes to feelings, I am. You know that” he murmurs and his fingers start to play with mine. “You’re so patient and loving… Sweetheart, you know I love you, right ?”

 Dean’s Pov

             A burning feeling roams my whole body, and I know she can feel how hot I suddenly am. She was so brave, she is so brave. Fighting for her life, fighting for her friends, fighting for me when I just keep letting her down.

“Sweetheart, you know I love you, right ?”

She takes a deep breath and I hold mine, my feet bending inward, like I could cage her more.

“To be honest Dean…” she sighs and my heart falls in a loud crashing sound. “Knowing it is not easy… Sometimes I manage to convince myself of it… When you show me, when you give yourself so completely to me…”

When she says that, I close my eyes, images of her pretty thighs holding her body above me, of her teeth grazing my chest… And I feel blood rushing south.

           I kiss her jaw and she turns her head to let me reach her lips. Her skin is still not perfectly warm, but she’s not cold anymore, her body is not shaking and her lips are so cutely pink.

           When she feels my body grow on her lower back, a smile appears on her face. I know that smile.

           She suddenly starts to move, and I protest a little, wanting her to stay close to me, and away from the cold. But she just turns in my arms, pushing my legs down and straddling me, before I close the blanket around us again.

“What are you doing ?” I murmur, pecking her lips.

But she doesn’t answer with her voice. She starts opening my jeans and my eyes widen.

“Baby you just came near death” I grunt, but she grabs my cock with no more warnings or anything.

I gasp.

“Yes… I see no better reason” she smiles against my lips, before claiming my mouth with her sweet, demanding tongue.

“Y/n…” I moan when she pushes her panties to the side and rubs herself against my throbbing length. “Sam is just here…”

“So be quiet…” she whispers before sinking slowly on me, swallowing me like I was made for her. No foreplay, no games… My lady wants me.

I hide in her neck and try to muffle the moans escaping my lips, she grabs my head in both hands and her thighs start to shake ; but not that pre orgasms quake I know by heart, her legs are weak, sore…

           So I grab her waist and push her a little off me, before I bring her so close again, the tip of my cock touches her cervix.

“Dean…” she whispers, out of breath, digging her nails in my scalp, the cover falling a little without my arms to hold it. “I love you between my legs… I…” Her walls are clenching around me and she holds my head against her with both hands like it was the most precious thing. “I needed to tell you that…”

My fingers dig in her waist but I’m too tired to really thrust, so I grind. I grind hard and rub her pelvis against mine in held back groans.

           Sweat breaks through the skin of my back and the fireplace suddenly feels to be burning my jeans, making it almost painful against my legs.

           Being inside of her, even in a lost tiny crappy cabin in a haunted wood with a snow storm raging… It feels like home. Every time.

Home.

And I’m not ashamed to feel my climax built so soon, after so few efforts. Just because we were there and together, and because she needed that connection I only gave her during sex until now.

           But that will change…

“I love you…” I gasp when I cum so deep inside her, and she falls silent, wrapping her arms around my neck to hold on to me, and pulsing in a soft but long orgasm.

           She stays still, panting, and I worry I could have make her sick again, so I wrap the cover back around us.

“Y/n ?”

“Will you stay tomorrow ?” she asks putting her lips on mine in a lazy kiss and I can’t help but smile wide, her lips missing mine to meet my teeth as I do.

“I love you” I just say, knowing it contains all the answers she needs.

----------------------------------

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Frozen sleep tag : @peridottea91​

[cynical-amphisbaenia]

hello! this is going to be kind of long, so i apologize in advance! i’ve been trying to find my class & aspect for years now since i got into homestuck. for reference, i’m an enfp & an enneagram 6w7 (tritype 6-4-1/6-4-9, can’t decide which one fits me more). i’m also a gemini sun, cancer moon, & gemini rising. while i’m not the biggest fan of harry potter my hogwarts house is ravenclaw.

a bit about me:

i’ve never understood the dichotomy of “science versus art” because in my opinion both are so deeply intertwined and both are a huge part of my life! i enjoy both the sciences (specifically biology, ornithology, and natural sciences) and the humanities (history, art, literature culture, etc) i love gathering information, learning new things, and sharing it with others. since i was a kid i enjoyed classifying animals (specifically birds), plants, and to this day i consider myself a hobbyist bird watcher.

some of my other interests are tolkien (lotr, the silmarillion, & the hobbit, as well as tolkien lore in general), star wars, jojo’s bizarre adventure, the MCU, demon slayer, theatre, stufio ghibli, pokémon, and fashion history/design history. whenever i get into a piece of media that i care about, i want to learn as much about it as i can! in the past as a kid i would get super obsessive about my newest interest. i also love to draw, sew, paint, cosplay, write, dabble in animating, study art history movements, train my pet parrot, and just be creative in general. i also did martial arts and theatre in middle school and high school. i guess you could describe me as a generalist or a jack of-all-trades? i want to know everything there is to know about things i’m interested in. and i’m always working on side projects, creating stuff, and just putting my ideas into action.

because of my vast amount of interests i’m able to easily relate to other people and form acquaintances and friends but i only have a few very deep, very close friendships. like, i’m very social and make friends easily but while i have a big circle of people i know there’s like >5 people who i consider to be my best friends.

despite being outgoing and extroverted i am also a very analytical and inquisitive person. researching, overthinking, and overanalyzing is my jam. i’m not afraid to confront harsh realities and discuss solutions to social issues, how to make a project more efficient, or doing copious amounts of research when writing essays/reports. people who are just meeting me perceive as being a friendly, fun, extroverted person and nothing more, but there’s more than what meets the eye. people who know me better know that i love to pick apart huge concepts like ethics, philosophy, etc. and tend think about “the big picture.” while having a type B personality i’m a high-achieving student with clear set goals for my future. if i care about a topic i’ll write an essay about it for fun XD

Looking back, a “character arc” i’ve gone through in the past is developing maturity. i was kind of a late bloomer in middle school and high school so it took me a while to start really “acting my age.” it might be due to undiagnosed ADHD (considering getting tested for it) but it took me a bit longer than my peers to “grow up,” if that makes any sense. i had to learn to become more open to change and realize that growing and changing is good and important.

so i guess the reason why i’ve struggled to find my aspect is that i see myself equally creative and equally analytical. i enjoy creating things as much as i enjoy learning new things, & i would consider myself as both a creative and a scholar.

i have no idea what aspect i could be. maybe light or space? but it might be something else entirely. XD

as for classes i haven’t the foggiest either. i’ve juggled around sylph, seer, and even knight at one point in the past but i still don’t know lol.

as for blood color, bc of my zodiac i’m a goldblood, but i’m curious what alternative hemotype i’d get based on my personality!

lastly, i have no idea what my lunar sway is bc i have gotten both derse and prospit different times in quizzes.

again, apologize for the length of this message. thank you so much! :) 🤍🤍🤍

Your most likely classpect appears to be a Seer of Space - your class reflects your desire for knowledge and researching, whereas your aspect covers your creativity, focus on the big picture and the main sciences you enjoy also fit into it (especially as it relates to nature). Overall you appear to be searching to know and understand Space. In some ways your focus on knowledge does suit Light and your focus on interests suits Heart, but as these easily fall under Space they are less likely.

If you think your aspect is Light instead, you may want to consider Heir rather than Seer - it would better describe how it surrounds you and why your interaction with it may make it seem like another aspect at times. However, considering that you do consider Space as a possible aspect for yourself you probably don't need to consider this. Feel free to ask me questions about it if you are uncertain though.

As for blood colour, you haven't given me enough information based on what I use to determine it to be certain. However, considering enneagram can reflect your desires I'll make some suggestions based on that: Bronze (craves support and safety), Olive (values familiarity and others) and Indigo (suits the inward energy of 6 and outward energy of 7).

You could be a dual dreamer, but it's also likely that your class or aspect is skewing it. Based on what you've stated here, it's likely class is affecting it and you are a Prospit dreamer. Asides from a couple of things like being analytical, you do consistently suit Prospit and even how you act as a Seer mirrors a Prospit Seer rather than a Derse Seer.