#need to wait for the next year to see him
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jupiterpilgrim · 2 days ago
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Silent Night, Whispered Secrets
Christmas Special 🎄
Yunjin x Male Reader
word count: 4.5K words
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The office is eerily quiet on Christmas Eve, with only the soft hum of your computer and occasional clicking of the keyboard breaking the silence. Most of your coworkers left hours ago to start their holiday celebrations, but you're still here finishing up year-end reports. The only other person crazy enough to still be working is Yunjin, whose office is just down the hall from yours.
You've known Yunjin for the two years you've worked at the company. She started a few months before you and helped show you the ropes when you first joined. You hit it off right away, drawn to her quick wit and infectious laugh. She's the kind of person who can find humor in even the most mundane office situations, making even boring meetings more bearable with her subtle eye rolls and whispered commentary.
Physically, Yunjin is absolutely your type, though you've tried not to think about her that way given your professional relationship. She has a classic beauty about her, with delicate features framed by stylish glasses that give her a sexy librarian vibe. Her lips are full and naturally pouty, the kind that make you wonder what they'd feel like pressed against yours. She typically dresses conservatively for the office in blazers and pencil skirts, but you can tell she has a slim, petite figure with small breasts that suit her frame perfectly.
The sound of heels clicking on the tile floor pulls you from your thoughts. Looking up, you see Yunjin leaning against your doorframe, her jacket discarded and the top button of her white blouse undone.
"Still at it?" she asks with a sympathetic smile. "You know Santa won't come if you're still awake doing spreadsheets."
You can't help but chuckle. "Pretty sure Santa skips over office buildings anyway. What's your excuse for still being here?"
"Same as you probably - trying to get everything wrapped up before the holiday break." She walks into your office and perches on the edge of your desk, something she's done countless times during your friendly chats. "But I'm officially taking a break and you should too. We've been at this for hours."
The familiar scent of her perfume - something light and floral - wafts over as she settles next to you. You realize she's right about needing a break; your eyes are starting to blur from staring at the screen.
"Yeah, you're probably right," you concede, leaning back in your chair. "Most of this can wait until after Christmas anyway."
"Exactly! Speaking of Christmas..." She swivels to face you more directly, crossing her legs. "What are your plans? Big family gathering?"
"Pretty much the usual - heading to my parents' place tomorrow morning. Mom always goes overboard with the decorations and Dad pretends to complain about it while secretly loving every minute." You smile thinking about your family's traditions. "What about you?"
"Similar, minus the over-the-top decorations. Though my mom does make enough food to feed a small army." She pauses, seeming to consider something before asking, "Will your girlfriend be joining you?"
The question catches you off guard. In all your conversations, she's never directly asked about your relationship status before. "No girlfriend to bring along," you answer honestly. "Flying solo this holiday season."
"Really?" Her eyebrows raise slightly above her glasses frames. "I find that hard to believe. A guy like you, single at Christmas?"
There's something different in her tone now, a slight flirtatiousness that makes your pulse quicken. "What do you mean a guy like me?" you ask, playing along.
She adjusts her glasses in that adorable way she does when she's about to say something bold. "Oh, you know... Smart, funny, easy on the eyes." Her lips curve into a playful smile. "The kind of guy who probably has women fighting over who gets to kiss him under the mistletoe."
Your mouth goes dry as you process this shift in dynamic. Is Yunjin actually flirting with you? After two years of carefully maintained friendship?
"Funny, I was just thinking the same about you," you reply, testing the waters. "Surprised you don't have a line of guys waiting to take you home for the holidays."
She laughs softly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right guy to ask." Her eyes meet yours with unmistakable intent now. "Someone who already knows me... understands me..."
The air between you feels charged with possibility. You've imagined moments like this before but always pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to complicate your friendship or work relationship. But now, with her looking at you like that...
"Yunjin..." you start, not quite sure what you're going to say.
She slides off your desk and extends her hand to you. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
You don't hesitate for a second, turning off the computer and getting up from your chair. Your heart pounds as you take her hand, letting her lead you out of your office and down the darkened hallway. Her fingers are soft and warm interlaced with yours. She guides you past the break room and copy area to a section of the building you rarely visit.
"Where are we going?" you ask, though you're happy to follow her anywhere at this point.
"Somewhere private," she answers mysteriously. "Where we can talk without worrying about security cameras."
She leads you into what appears to be a storage room, flicking on a small lamp that casts a warm glow over boxes of office supplies and forgotten furniture. It's cozy in an odd way, like a secret hideaway.
Yunjin turns to face you, still holding your hand. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and you can see her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
"I need to tell you something," she says. "Something I've wanted to say for a long time but never had the courage."
You squeeze her hand encouragingly, heart racing with anticipation.
"I have feelings for you," she continues. "Real feelings, beyond friendship. I think I have for a while now but I was afraid to admit it, afraid of ruining what we have. But being here tonight, just the two of us... I couldn't keep pretending anymore."
The confession hangs in the air between you for a moment before you respond. "Yunjin, I had no idea you felt that way. I mean, I've definitely thought about you like that but I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass..."
"And did it? Pass?" she asks softly.
You shake your head. "No. If anything, it got stronger the more I got to know you. You're amazing, Yunjin. Smart and funny and beautiful... I love how you can make me laugh even on the worst days. How you always remember little details about things I've told you. How passionate you get when talking about things you care about..."
She steps closer, reaching up to touch your face. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we? All those late nights working on projects, lunch breaks spent venting about difficult clients, celebrating each other's wins..."
"Yeah," you agree, letting your free hand rest on her waist. "I guess it's natural that feelings would develop. We just... fit."
"We do," she whispers, then rises on her tiptoes to press her lips to yours.
The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if you're both still afraid of crossing this line. But then she sighs against your mouth and something ignites between you. Your arms wrap around her waist as hers circle your neck, pulling each other closer as the kiss deepens.
Her lips are even softer than you imagined, moving against yours with growing passion. You can taste mint on her breath, like she'd been preparing for this possibility. The thought makes you smile against her mouth.
"What?" she asks, pulling back slightly.
"Nothing," you murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. "Just happy."
She tilts her head to give you better access to her neck, letting out a small moan when you find a sensitive spot. "Mmm... want to know what would make me happy?"
"Tell me," you breathe against her skin.
"Letting me give you your Christmas present." Her hands slide down your chest as she speaks.
You pull back to look at her, seeing desire burning in her eyes behind those sexy glasses. "What kind of present?"
Instead of answering, she starts unbuttoning her blouse, revealing smooth pale skin and a simple white bra underneath. Your breath catches as she reaches behind to unhook it, letting the garment fall away.
You can't take your eyes off Yunjin's exposed chest as she straddles your lap in the dimly lit storage room. Her breasts are small, almost flat against her slim frame, but they're absolutely perfect to you. Each one is barely a handful, topped with delicate pink nipples that have hardened in the cool air. The sight makes your mouth water with desire.
"I know they're not much to look at," she says shyly, noticing your intense gaze. "Most guys prefer bigger..."
You silence her self-consciousness by cupping both small mounds in your hands, feeling their subtle weight. "These are exactly what I want," you tell her firmly. "Perfect little tits that fit my hands just right."
She shivers as you run your thumbs over her nipples, watching them stiffen further under your touch. The rosy buds stand out proudly now, begging to be sucked. You lean forward slowly, maintaining eye contact as you take one peak between your lips.
"Ohhh..." Yunjin moans softly as you begin to suckle her breast. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you against her chest as you worship her sensitive flesh.
You alternate between gentle suction and firm licks, paying attention to how she responds. When you graze your teeth lightly across her nipple, her whole body trembles and she lets out a gasp. You do it again, a bit firmer this time, and are rewarded with a breathy "Yes..."
Your hands knead her small breasts as you continue lavishing attention on her nipples. Despite their size, or perhaps because of it, they seem incredibly sensitive. Every touch, every lick, every gentle bite makes her squirm and moan in your lap.
You pull back slightly to admire your work - her nipples are now swollen and deep pink from your ministrations. "So responsive," you murmur, blowing cool air across the wet peaks and watching them tighten further. "I love how sensitive these little tits are."
"Only for you," she whimpers as you dive back in, this time taking as much of her small breast into your mouth as possible. There's something incredibly arousing about being able to almost fit the entire mound between your lips.
You suck firmly while massaging her other breast, feeling her nipple press hard against your palm. Her hips begin to rock subtly in your lap as her arousal builds. The movement makes your already hard cock throb with need, but you're determined to thoroughly worship these perfect little tits first.
Moving to her neglected breast, you trace circles around the areola with your tongue before capturing the straining nipple between your teeth. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as you apply just enough pressure to toe the line between pleasure and pain.
"Oh god," she pants, grinding more insistently against you now. "That feels so good... I never knew my breasts could be this sensitive..."
You hum against her flesh, the vibrations making her shudder. Your hands slide around to grip her ass, helping guide her movements as she rocks in your lap. Each roll of her hips makes her small breasts sway slightly, a hypnotic sight that has you alternating between watching and tasting.
"Such perfect little tits," you murmur between licks and kisses. "Love how they bounce... love how responsive they are... love how they fit in my mouth just right..."
Your praise seems to turn her on even more. She arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against your face as you continue your oral assault on her sensitive peaks. Her breathing becomes more ragged with each passing minute.
You bring your hands back to her breasts, squeezing them together so you can move back and forth between nipples more easily. The sight of her small mounds pressed together, topped with those pretty pink nipples, is incredibly erotic. You lap at both peaks simultaneously, making her cry out.
"Please," she whimpers, though you're not sure what she's begging for. You respond by sucking harder, drawing one taut nipple deep into your mouth while pinching and rolling the other between your fingers.
Her whole body is trembling now as you continue your relentless attention. You can feel how wet she is through her panties as she grinds against your lap, seeking friction. The combination of your mouth on her sensitive breasts and the pressure against her clit seems to be driving her wild.
"I think..." she gasps, clutching your head tighter. "I think I might... from just this..."
The revelation that she might cum just from breast play spurs you on. You double your efforts, sucking and licking and nibbling at her swollen nipples while your hands massage the soft flesh of her small breasts. Her movements become more erratic as she chases her pleasure.
"That's it," you encourage between sucks. "Let go for me... show me how sensitive these perfect little tits are..."
With a sharp cry, she does just that. Her body goes rigid in your lap as waves of pleasure wash over her, triggered by nothing more than your mouth on her breasts. You continue gently sucking and licking through her orgasm, prolonging the sensation until she weakly pushes your head away, too sensitive to take any more.
"I've never..." she pants, looking down at you with wide eyes. "That's never happened before..."
You press soft kisses to her flushed chest, admiring how her nipples are now deep red and slightly swollen from your attention. "Just proves what I said - these are perfect."
With a smile Yunjin slides down your body with a hungry look in her eyes, her delicate fingers work at your belt buckle as she settles between your legs, licking her lips in anticipation.
"Now I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel," she purrs, finally freeing your throbbing cock from its confines. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. "So big..." she whispers, wrapping her small hand around your shaft.
You groan at the first contact, already rock hard from getting her off with just breast play earlier. She starts with slow, exploratory strokes, learning the feel of you. Her other hand cups your balls gently, rolling them between her fingers as she studies your reactions.
"Tell me if it's good, okay?" she asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your tip. "I want this to be the best you've ever had."
Before you can respond, she leans forward and drags her tongue from base to tip in one long, slow lick. Your cock twitches in her grip as she swirls her tongue around the head, gathering the bead of precum that's formed there.
"Mmm," she hums, savoring the taste. "Already so excited for me..."
She continues teasing you with her tongue, tracing the prominent veins along your shaft and paying special attention to the sensitive spot just under the head. Her hand keeps up a steady stroking motion, spreading her saliva along your length.
When she finally takes you into her mouth, you have to fight not to thrust up into that wet heat. She starts shallow, just sucking on the tip while her tongue works against the underside. Her eyes flutter closed as she focuses on the task, clearly enjoying herself.
"Fuck, that feels good," you groan as she gradually takes more of you in. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and the suction is perfect. She hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting through your cock.
One hand wraps around what doesn't fit in her mouth yet, working in tandem with her lips and tongue. The other continues massaging your balls, occasionally trailing lower to tease your perineum. The dual stimulation has your toes curling.
She pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "I love how hard you are," she says, pumping you with both hands now. "Love feeling you throb in my mouth..."
Before you can respond, she's diving back down, taking you even deeper this time. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft as she bobs her head, building a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the room, obscenely erotic.
You thread your fingers through her hair, not guiding her movements but just wanting to touch her. She moans around your cock in response, the vibrations making you groan. Her pace picks up slightly, switching between deep sucks and focusing on the sensitive head.
"Just like that," you encourage as she finds a particularly good rhythm. "Your mouth feels fucking amazing."
She pulls back again, this time to focus solely on your tip while her hands work your shaft. Her tongue swirls around the head before flicking rapidly against the frenulum, making your hips jerk. "Want to taste every inch of you," she murmurs before taking you deep again.
This time she doesn't stop until you hit the back of her throat. She holds there for a moment, swallowing around you, before pulling back for air. Strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock as she gasps.
"So fucking hot," you groan, watching her catch her breath. Your cock twitches in her grip, achingly hard from her skilled attention.
She smiles up at you before diving back in, this time maintaining eye contact as she works you over. The sight of her pretty lips stretched around your girth while she stares up at you with lust-filled eyes is almost too much.
Her technique varies between long, slow sucks taking you as deep as she can manage, and focusing on the tip with quick flicks of her tongue. She seems to delight in finding what makes you moan loudest, repeating movements that get the biggest reactions.
"Getting close?" she asks during another brief break, her hand never stopping its stroking motion. When you nod, she smiles. "Good. I want to taste your cum... want to swallow every drop..."
The dirty talk combined with her renewed oral assault has you right on the edge. She seems to sense this, doubling her efforts. One hand pumps your shaft while the other gently squeezes your balls. Her mouth focuses on your sensitive head, sucking firmly while her tongue works the underside.
"Fuck, I'm about to cum!" you growl, staring down at Yunjin's face as she works your throbbing cock with her skilled mouth. Her designer glasses are slightly fogged up from her heavy breathing, adding an irresistibly naughty librarian vibe to her cock-hungry expression. Those plump, glistening lips stretch obscenely wide around your thick shaft as she bobs her head with expert precision.
Rather than slow down at your warning, she doubles her efforts - taking you even deeper into her hot, eager mouth. Her full, pouty lips form a perfect seal around your cock as she sucks harder, her tongue dancing and swirling along your sensitive length. Drool runs down your balls as she services you with single-minded determination, the wet sloppy sounds of her enthusiastic sucking filling the room.
You reach down to tangle your fingers in her silky hair, accidentally knocking her glasses slightly askew. She doesn't miss a beat, continuing to worship your cock while reaching up to adjust them with one hand. The intellectual look of her wire-rimmed frames contrasts deliciously with the absolutely filthy things she's doing with that talented mouth.
Her crimson lipstick is completely ruined now, smeared all over your cock in scarlet streaks. The sight of those perfect dick-sucking lips wrapped around you, combined with her sultry gaze behind those sexy glasses, has your balls drawing up tight. She must sense how close you are because she takes you impossibly deeper, until you feel the back of her throat squeezing your sensitive cockhead.
Her nose presses against your pelvis as she deep-throats you with practiced ease, her glasses fogging up even more from her heavy breathing. The rippling sensation of her throat muscles working around your length finally pushes you over the edge.
"Fuuuuck!" you roar as your orgasm hits like a freight train. Your cock pulses violently, shooting thick ropes of hot cum directly down her eager throat. She moans in satisfaction around your spurting length, continuing to suck and swallow rhythmically as you empty yourself into her hungry mouth. Not a single drop escapes those perfect cock-hungry lips.
Even after you're completely drained, she keeps gently nursing on your sensitive head, her tongue lapping up every last trace of cum. Only when you're trembling from overstimulation does she finally release you with an obscene pop. Your cock emerges glistening with her saliva, still twitching occasionally.
She looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind her slightly steamed glasses, licking those full, swollen lips with obvious satisfaction. A thin strand of saliva and cum still connects her mouth to your cock. "Mmm, fucking delicious," she purrs, her voice slightly hoarse from taking you so deep. She gives your softening length one final kiss before sitting back on her heels.
Your legs feel weak as you watch her run her tongue over her lips again, savoring your taste. Her ruined lipstick smeared across her mouth and chin. Combined with her messy hair, fogged glasses, and the hungry look in her eyes, she's the perfect picture of debauchery.
"That was incredible," you manage to say once you catch your breath. She just grins wickedly, clearly proud of her cock-sucking skills. And rightfully so - you've never had your dick sucked with such enthusiasm and expertise before.
"I love the way you taste," she says, running one finger along her bottom lip while pushing her glasses back up her nose. "And the way your big cock feels stretching my mouth open. Makes me so fucking horny." To emphasize her point, she brings both hands up to her small breasts, squeezing them firmly through her top.
The sight of her playing with herself while looking at you with those intelligent eyes behind her frames makes your spent cock twitch with renewed interest. She notices and laughs, her hands still kneading her chest. "Already wanting more? Such a greedy boy." She leans forward to plant soft kisses along your shaft, which is already starting to harden again.
"Can't help it when you've got such perfect dick-sucking lips," you tell her, running your thumb across her plump bottom lip. She captures the digit between her teeth, sucking it into her mouth with a sultry look. The combination of her hot tongue swirling around your thumb and her glasses sliding down her nose again makes your cock throb.
"These lips were made for worshipping cock," she agrees after releasing your thumb with a wet pop. "Especially yours. I love how thick you are - really makes me work for it." She emphasizes her point by wrapping those gorgeous lips around just your sensitive head, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact through her slightly fogged lenses.
You groan at the sight and sensation. "Fuck, you really are insatiable aren't you?" Your hand finds its way back into her hair, careful not to knock her glasses off this time as you guide her movements. She starts taking more of your rapidly hardening length into her mouth again.
She pulls off just long enough to say "When it comes to sucking your cock? Absolutely." Then she's diving back down, taking you to the root in one smooth motion that has you seeing stars. Her throat contracts around you as she swallows, making you gasp.
Your grip in her hair tightens as she starts bobbing her head with renewed vigor. The wet sounds of her enthusiastic cock-sucking fill the room once again. She alternates between taking you deep in her throat and focusing on your sensitive head, her talented tongue doing incredible things that have you moaning.
"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise her, making her moan around your length. Her glasses fog up completely as she works your cock faster. "Love watching those pretty lips stretch around my thick cock. You were born to suck dick, weren't you?"
She responds by taking you even deeper, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis again. The feeling of her throat squeezing around your cock while she looks up at you with those big, eager eyes behind her steamed-up lenses is almost too much to handle.
"That's it, take it all like a good girl," you growl, using your grip on her hair to hold her in place for a moment. She moans and squirms, clearly loving being used like this. When you finally let her pull back for air, she gasps and immediately dives back down for more, quickly adjusting her glasses before wrapping those perfect lips around you again.
Her enthusiasm is infectious. You start thrusting your hips slightly, fucking her willing mouth while she moans encouragement. The sight of your cock disappearing between those perfect cock-sucking lips over and over, combined with her sexy librarian look, has you racing toward another orgasm embarrassingly quickly.
"Gonna cum again," you warn her through gritted teeth. She responds by sucking even harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works to draw out your load. Her tongue does wicked things to your sensitive head while one hand massages your heavy balls.
This time when you explode, she pulls back just enough to catch your cum on her tongue. You watch in awe as rope after rope of hot cum paints those gorgeous lips and fills her eager mouth. Some of it lands on her glasses, making her look even more debauched. She makes a show of swallowing it all down before licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile.
"Mmm, even better the second time," she purrs, giving your sensitive cock one final kiss. Her lips and chin are glazed with a mixture of cum and saliva, her lipstick completely destroyed, and her glasses are splattered with your seed. "Well, what did you think of my blowjob? Think that lived up to being the best you've ever had?"
"Fuck yes. Your lips, your mouth, your tongue, those fucking glasses... You're perfect, Yunjin.”
Still on her knees, she reaches for the open cardboard box nearby. It’s crammed with small packs of wet wipes. She plucks one out, tearing it open with her teeth before pulling a single wipe free. As she starts cleaning her glasses, she laughs softly. “These glasses? Expensive as hell,” she says, wiping the lenses with a casual ease. “But having you cum all over me while wearing them? Fucking worth it.”
Her words make you shudder slightly, your breath catching as you watch her throw away the last used wipe, her face and glasses less messy now. She smirks, using her thumb to rub at the the forgotten bit of smeared lipstick.
When Yunjin finishes, she sighs, looking at you with those big lovely eyes. "Did you like your present?" she asks softly.
You pull her closer, crushing your mouth to hers, tasting yourself on her tongue but too far gone to care. “Best Christmas present ever,” you murmur against her lips, your hands finding her hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she melts into you.
"Merry Christmas then," she says with a playful wink, wiping her mouth delicately.
"To be honest, I've never liked Christmas as much as I do now," you tell her when your lips move away.
She laughs softly, tucking her head against your neck. "Just wait until you see what I have planned for New Year's."
You hold her close, both of you catching your breath as the reality of what just happened settles in. Outside the windows, snow has begun to fall, dusting the city in white. It's still Christmas Eve, you still have family obligations tomorrow, but right now none of that matters. All that matters is this moment, this woman in your arms, and the promise of more to come.
"We should probably head home soon," Yunjin says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. "It is Christmas Eve after all."
You press a kiss to her temple. "Five more minutes," you bargain, and feel her smile against your skin.
"Five more minutes," she agrees.
You sit there together in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside while your racing hearts slow to normal. Whatever happens next, you know this Christmas will be one to remember. And as Yunjin snuggles closer in your arms, you can't help but think that sometimes the best presents come when you least expect them.
The office will look different from now on, you think. The familiar halls and rooms now charged with memory - her hand in yours as she led you here, the first press of her lips against yours, the way she looked on her knees between your legs…
Finally, reluctantly, you both begin to dress. You help Yunjin button her blouse, stealing kisses between each button until she laughs and pushes you away playfully. Her hair is slightly messed up from your fingers and her lips are still swollen from their earlier activities.
She's never looked more beautiful.
"Walk me to my car?" she asks, slipping her hand into yours.
"Of course," you reply, squeezing her fingers gently.
As you make your way through the quiet building, you can't help but marvel at how much can change in a single night. Yesterday, Yunjin was just your friend and coworker. Now... now she's something more, something precious and exciting and full of possibility.
In the parking garage, she turns to face you before getting in her car. "Text me when you get home?" she asks, and you nod.
"Definitely." You pull her close for one more kiss, slow and sweet. "Merry Christmas, Yunjin."
She smiles against your lips. "Merry Christmas."
You watch her drive away, snow swirling in the headlights, before heading to your own car. As you drive home through the quiet streets, you can't wipe the smile off your face. This Christmas is already shaping up to be the best one yet.
Your phone buzzes with a text just as you're pulling into your driveway. It's from Yunjin: "Already missing those five more minutes 😘"
You reply quickly:
"We'll have to make up for lost time after the holidays."
Her response comes immediately:
"Can't wait 💕"
As you head inside, you find yourself actually looking forward to returning to work after Christmas. Who knew the office could hold such possibilities? But then again, with Yunjin involved, anything seems possible.
You fall asleep that night with thoughts of soft lips and gentle hands, of whispered confessions and promises of more to come. In your dreams, it's still snowing, and Yunjin is there, smiling at you through the white flakes, reaching for your hand.
Tomorrow will bring family gatherings and holiday traditions, but tonight belongs to the memory of her - the taste of her kisses, the sound of her moans, the feel of her skin under your fingers. It's the best Christmas gift you could have asked for, and it's only the beginning.
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nerdlvr · 3 days ago
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not so little is it?
(MDNI)
younger jaemin x older reader , small age gap , jaemin is brothers best friend , ur brother is mark lee , big dick jaem , jaem is bigger than reader , size kink if you squint , kinda public sex (ur both in the kitchen & living room and mark is in his room) , harsh blowjob , cowgirl yeehaw , couch missionary , jaemin is cocky and mean , pet names like a lot , light mocking , degradation kinda , jaemin refers to himself and y/n in third person sometimes idk , jaemin knows how to use his dick damn... , requested here !
it  had been the fifth time that night that you had called jaemin baby. and not baby in a i wanna fuck you type of way, baby in a little boy type of way. If only you could go into his brain and see all the things jaemin would do to shut you up. maybe he’d stuff your mouth with his big, hard-
“babyy, are you listening? The popcorns ready!”
jaemin felt his eye twitch, a small fake smile directed at your pretty face. he shook his head softly, turning his head back to focus on the movie.
“dude you need to stop calling him that, we’re not even that much younger than you.”
jaemin could not agree more with your brother.
he was never one to hold grudges, it was childish, unlike him. but for some reason you had been more annoying than usual tonight, the high pitched ‘baby’ and the sweet toned ‘minnie’ only itching him in all the wrong places.
he turned to the clock in mark’s room, 2:00 AM, well shit. had he really laid here for 3 hours straight thinking about your annoying mouth? his eyes drifted down to his now tented boxers, well double shit. maybe thinking about your mouth right next to your sleeping brother wasn’t the best idea. he needed a walk.
.
the cool air from the fridge numbed his senses, his nipples perking up at the soft breeze.
ice cream, butter, cheese, ew. did mark have anything without milk? wait isn’t mark lactose intoler- “his fridge looks like something out of a horror film right?”jaemin felt the hair on his body rise as he jumped, the fridge shutting loudly behind him, a hand coming up to his chest, “jesus you scared me.”
you giggled as you poked his bare chest, "sorry didn't mean to scare you baby. was just coming out for a snack."
baby, did you like to test his patience? he pushed your hand away as he let out a loud huff, "don't call me that."
your soft giggle continued to ring in his ears, your hands now moving to pinch the fabric of his boxers, "call you what, bunny boy?"
his eyes drifted down to his boxers, small bunnies adorning the fabric. he grabbed your wandering hand, smirking as you let out a pained whine. "does your mouth do anything good besides spout nonsense?"
you ripped your hand away from his tightening grasp, your free hand coming up to massage the sensitive skin,"what's your problem jaemin? i'm being nice to you and you're acting like a brat!"
your eyes widened slightlyy as a scoff left his mouth, lips quirking up into a smirk, "nice? you're treating me like a fucking child y/n. i stopped being little years ago. maybe you've been too busy bitching to even notice!"
your heads turned quickly as you heard shuffling from mark's room, his sleepy groans muffled by the thick walls.
"whatever tough guy, i'm leaving, your attitude ruined my appetite."
his arms were quick to stop you, trapping you against the kitchen counter, "where do you think you're going? where's my apology?"
it was your turn to scoff, eyes rolling at his questions. "apology? grow up na jaemin, you're not getting an apology if i did nothing wrong." you pushed at his chest, muscles firm against your hands. when did he get so strong? you mumbled out a low move embarrassed by your lack of strength against him.
he chuckled, breath fanning against your face, "give it one more go baby, maybe this time you might get it."
you bit your lip, head turning to look anywhere besides his bare chest, "this isn't funny, move or i'll-"
"you'll do what y/n?" he licked his lips, smirking down at you.
damn you na jaemin, damn you and those strong muscles, damn you and those plump lips, damn you and this new attitude that is so so hot. you gulped loudly, looking away as you tried to sneakily squeeze your thighs together, heat building between you legs.
"something wrong?"he leaned in closer to you, lips just one breath away. you turned your head further away from him, edge of the counter pressing deep into your back.
"you think being immature is cute jaemin? get off of me!"
he pressed his forehead against the side of your head, breath fanning against your ear. "no-"
he lifted his leg slightly, using his his knee to gently press against your core. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, head lowering just enough to watch his knuckles turn white against the counter. "but you clearly do. been squeezing these pretty thighs together since i started raising my voice at you."
you kept quiet, eyes squeezing shut as his knee pressed further against your heat, "who's the baby now hm?" you ignored him, brain zoning into to light pressure being applied to your clit, only a light hum being your response.
"answer me when i'm talking to you." your eyes fluttered open as he gripped your chin, moving your face so you'd look at him, "m-me jaem."
he tilted his head, smirk growing wider, "what was that?"
you swallowed your pride. there's no way you're gonna miss this opportunity. "i-i'm the baby jaem." he could help but chuckle, leaning in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, "good girl, you learn quick. now lets put that bratty little mouth to good use."
you sunk onto your knees like your body was possessed, hands coming up to tug at his boxers. his cock sprung free, slapping his toned stomach. he was big, tip flushed and leaking.
his hand was quicker than yours, grabbing onto the base of his length to slap it against your cheek."not so little huh? call me baby again little brat."
"b-bab-" he chuckled as your words came out gargled, his cock being shoved into your mouth to silence you, "you look better with your mouth full." your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on your breathing, jaw relaxing slightly.
he was heavy on your tongue, smooth skin rubbing against the sides of your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in further. "shit angel, mouth so good, keep doing that."
you bobbed your head against him, spit threatening to spill past your lips. the sight above you was heavenly, pink hair held up with his hands as his mouth hung open. he let out soft pants as he tried his best not to thrust into your mouth. "let me- fuck- let me do it."
his hands moved into your hair to hold your head steady, hips starting to pick up a rhythm. you batted your lashes up at him, soft moans spilling from your mouth as he pressed deeper into your mouth, "look so pretty like this- just wanna-"
you gagged loudly as he pushed the rest of his length into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. he held you there, your nose pressed against his pubic hair as you swallowed around him.
his groans went straight to your core, thighs squeezing impossibly tighter. he pulled you off in one swift motion, laughing as you gasped for air, eyes watery and lips swollen.
"look at you-" he slapped your face lightly, "acting so grown and can't even take my cock- get up and turn around."
but you remained on your knees, whimpering as you wiped at your mouth. you hadn't noticed you were crying until jaemin leaned down, warms hands rubbing your cheeks, "awe you crybaby, minnie's cock got you all worked up hm?"
you pushed his hands away struggling to get up, legs sore from the kitchen tiles. his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest, "still so stubborn, baby just needs some good dick fucked into her so she'll learn hm?"
he laughed at your weak yelp, his arms lifting you up as he walked towards to living room, "now you're gonna show me how much you need this dick."
he sat on the couch, placing you right on his lap, face to face with you. "go on put it in." your cute pouts did nothing to him as he moved his arms to rest them on the back of the couch, head nodding to urge you to continue.
you whined softly as you hovered your hips over him, hand coming down to push your panties and sleep shorts aside. your cheeks burned as you both looked towards your heat, wetness dripping onto his length. he threw his head back as he let out a soft groan, "fuck baby, what would mark think about me having his big sis dripping all over me hm? like the idea of getting fucked by me that much?"
you nodded quickly shame evaporating from your body as you began to rub his tip along your soaking cunt. he hissed under you, his hands gripping the couch cushions, "don't tease baby, wanna feel you."
you sunk down slightly, hollowly fucking yourself on his tip. your bottom lip was trapped between you teeth, body leaned back as you gripped onto jaemin's thighs. he couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, body covered up by your pjs but your pussy on full display.
he moved his hand to your tummy, fingers slipping under your shirt to pull the fabric over your tits, "fuck, you little minx, look at you dripping on my cock- shit, keep going."
you whined loudly, soft pants leaving your desperate lips as you sunk down on him, the stretch hot against your walls."c-can't jaem, too-"
his hand gripped you breast, rolling your sensitive nipples against his fingers. he pouted up at you, a slight tilt to his head, "can't what baby, hm? minnie's dick to big for my little princess?"
you huffed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as you threw your head back to hide.
"that's okay angel-" his hands traveled down to your hips, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he lifted his hips to meet yours. the loud slap of your hips vibrated against the living room walls, a soft cry leaving your lips as you leaned forward, stuffing your face into jaemin's neck.
"it's okay-" his hips began to move, your slick making it easy for him to slide against your walls, "you can take it baby see? you're so good for me- fuck"
you whined against his neck, walls tightening around his length as he slapped his hips up. "jaem, jaem, please, oh my- feels so good baby, so deep."
he laughed at your small squeak as he suddenly picked you up, placing you in the corner of the couch, your back pressed against the soft cushion,
"i'm gonna need you to be quiet now okay princess? don't want mark to know how good i'm fucking his big sis hm?"
you nodded quickly, mouth hanging open as he slid back into you without warning, a small moan leaving his lips. "fuck jaem i can't- just please, want it so bad jaem, plea-" your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your loud moans, his hips moving to repeatedly slam into you, his length angled in just the right position.
"fuckkk yes bunny, look at you. pretty pussy sucking me in so good." his pace was relentless, one of your hands having to muffle your moans and the other gripping his arm for stability. you sunk into the couch, cushions bouncing under you from each thrust.
he leaned down close to you, body radiating heat against your chest, "want you to cum baby, i'm so close, so clo- fuck yeah baby just like that, so fucking tight shit."
you squeezed around him your stomach tightening as his words filled your ears. all you could think about was jaemin. his strong arms surrounding you, his warm body enveloping you, his soft moans urging you to cream on him and- oh. he hand flew down to your core, finger pressing gently on your clit, "come on angel, cum for me, wanna feel it, need it baby, please."
you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clamping around your hand as you arched your hips up. the tight feeling in your stomach radiating throughout you, body shaking as you let go.
he stilled inside you, head pressed into your neck to muffle his own moans as he came inside you, whimpers of your name leaving his lips as he panted against you, "fuck, fuck, fuck, so good, so good for me bunny, you did so good."
he kissed around your neck, lips trailing up onto your lips. the kiss was sweet, soft touch of his lips making your body tingle. his grip was warm against you as he held your trembling body.
"shhh, it's okay, you're okay-" he kissed your cheeks, hands rubbing your sides, "minnie's here baby, i got you, everythings-"
you sunk deeper into the couch as you heard the fridge door slam shut, watching as jaemin's eyes landed on the kitchen entrance, "jaem?" mark's sleepy voice broke the silence, "what are you doing out here?"
jaemin stuttered slightly, pink cheeks still evident against the dim lighting,"i- i was just-" you heard mark take a loud sip of something, clearing his throat after, "if this is about my sister- she's, she's just annoying, all that baby stuff is just her being annoying. you know- sometimes i even kinda feel like she might like you or something."
jaemin bit his lip, only a loud mhm being his response as his now soft length slid out of you, "yeah so, don't let it get to you jaem, get to bed alright?"
jaemin nodded, saying a quick goodnight as mark left his sight. he looked down towards you, a scared look on your face, "so you're into younger guys, huh bunny?"
your giggles filled the small space as you rolled your eyes, hand gently slapping his chest. he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a wide grin on his face, "don't worry, i like bratty older women too."
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llyfrenfys · 2 days ago
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Adding on with a personal example of this since I cannot sleep (it is 8am and insomnia has got me bad. I've been up all night).
Last week I went to a local pub with some friends. I got up to use the toilet (important note: I'm a disabled trans man with IBS). The pub I was at legit only has an accessible stall in the ladies' room. And I'm a trans man who passes frequently enough for it to be An Issue if I went to the accessible stall. It was also about 3am, give or take.
So I go to the adjacent men's room and use the toilet stall (even if I wasn't trans, I'd still need the stall anyway for my IBS). Outside, I hear a cis man passing some women queueing for the ladies' room. As mentioned before, the accessible stall and ladies room are frustratingly one and the same. An accessibility nightmare. So there's always queues. The man walks past and tells the women to come into the men's with him instead of waiting and they can give him blowjobs. I couldn't see anyone involved (again, I was in the stall having an IBS moment). But this made me so angry I began to prepare to get up - then stopped because - I'd be putting myself at huge risk by 1. Probably outing myself 2. Even if I didn't end up clocked, I'm not very tall or intimidating, 3. I was actively having a disability moment and couldn't exactly pack it in to get on my high horse.
I felt pathetic and hopeless because I couldn't step in to say something. Expecting marginalised men to put ourselves in harm's way just feels like an extension of the patriarchal idea that men have to be defenders or protectors and if not, we are not performing masculinity sufficiently (and as op put it so well, essentially discredits feminist men in the eyes of men who aren't. As does the act of being a feminist while a man).
When I was outed to my parents for the third time without my consent (c. 2019) my dad (estranged, along with my mum) said to me that "no man will ever accept you" [note: I went on to date a cis man for the next 5 years] in regards to my transness. Even though he is dead wrong - he really meant "no man *like me* will ever accept you". And unfortunately a lot of cis men are like him.
I feel horrified I couldn't step in to say something to that man in the men's room last week. But I am unlikely to have achieved anything and would likely be on the receiving end of violence depending on how the man took criticism.
I wish there was something constructive I could do in moments like those without putting me in harms way. I sadly couldn't approach the women later to check if they were okay because I didn't see their faces. And even if I did - I don't want my presence to be unnerving for them so soon after being harassed by a different man.
If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.
"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.
Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.
Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.
You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."
Problem with that being:
1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.
2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.
3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.
4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.
I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.
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mywritersmind · 1 day ago
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NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4
↳pt.5
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
christmas special
part one - part two - part three - part four
summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.
og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.
listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!
words : 3334
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.
“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.
“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”
I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.
Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”
“How did you know Lily fancied you?”
His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.
“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”
Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”
“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.
Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”
“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.
He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”
“Okay bye Oscar!”
He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”
I hang up on him.
⋆༺
Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!
After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.
The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”
I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”
He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”
I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.
“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”
“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”
He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”
“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”
“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”
I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”
⋆༺
you
I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?
I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.
We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.
He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.
My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”
“Let go of me you vermin!”
“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.
“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.
“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.
Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.
We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.
Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.
I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.
I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.
“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.
“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.
He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”
“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.
“I’m familiar with the area.”
I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.
“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.
I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”
“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”
I smile, “I adore you, P.”
The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.
P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.
She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.
“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.
“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.
I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.
“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.
“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.
“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”
I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”
“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.
He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.
I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?
The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”
He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”
“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.
“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”
“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.
“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”
“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.
“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.
I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?
He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”
“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”
“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.
“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”
P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.
They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.
“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.
“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.
“Please, Lan?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.
I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.
He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.
He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.
“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”
“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.
He’s five drinks in I think.
“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.
Linger, by the cranberries.
My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.
The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”
It was my favorite song in highschool.
He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.
Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.
Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.
Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.
Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.
P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.
Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”
“I can drive back.” I sit up.
Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.
He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.
“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.
“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.
I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.
Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.
Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.
His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.
And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.
“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.
“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.
I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.
He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.
His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”
“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”
He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”
“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”
He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.
“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.
We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.
Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.
“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.
I raise a brow, “Sure.”
“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.
“I don’t hate you.”
It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.
We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.
Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”
I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”
“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”
“You have no shirt on.”
“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.
I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.
“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.
“The doors locked.”
His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.
“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.
He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”
It’s the first time his words really hit me.
“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.
“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.
⋆༺
There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.
Max is staring at us with his mouth open.
Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!
I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.
He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.
“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.
“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”
“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”
“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.
“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.
He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”
I think he might still be drunk.
Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.
“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.
“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.
“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.
Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”
“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”
I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”
Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”
“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”
“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.
“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.
“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”
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warblogs17282 · 2 days ago
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Sinsmas is coming out today! So let's quickly discuss what we know about the episode right now.
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Vivzie's Bluesky Thread:
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Things we learn from this thread:
There will be quite a long wait until the start of season three, but we will have closer releases of episodes, considering that the team wants to commit to a more traditional release. This also has double confirmed that season three has 15 episodes. Season three will also be 'bigger and better'.
We will be getting shorts during the wait until season three, I assume it'll be like last time where we get a short every single month.
And of course, we gotta prepare ourselves to go out with a BANG!
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Sam Haft calls the episode 'PACKED!', meaning yet again we're in for a ride and a half, that's for sure.
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Yea, all the confirmation I need that Octavia's song is going to absolutely destroy us all emotionally when we hear it, SAM HAFT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN, WHAT DOES THIS MEA-
Brandon's Instagram Story:
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Transcript:
"I'm so anxious for the new helluva boss episode to drop. I went back and I've been rereading the script over and over and over and I don't read."
So we also have Brandon fanning the flames of our anxious waiting as well.
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Right as I was in the middle of writing this post Vivzie said that she was doing the final checks on the episode, and that she's in constant awe of what the artists at Spindlehorse are capable of.
The sneak peek gif:
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We see a sinner at the I.M.P office, and it looks like the entire I.M.P crew is going on a mission somewhere where it appears to be snowing and naturally has all of the Christmas decorations up as well.
Although I will admit, it kinda strikes me as weird that they'd just leave a sinner completely alone within the building, unless, of course, that there is someone else within the building, with the most likely candidate for that being Stolas, but that's just a theory I'm spitballing here. It does also raise the question of 'where the hell is Stolas during this scene anyways?'
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Onto the other not-so-new things, it was confirmed by Sallie May's VA that she is appearing this episode. (The 'next month' is supposed to be 'this month', I think she said at a panel after the first short that she'd be appearing again before this year ends.)
The trailer scenes:
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This scene where Stolas appears to be getting attacked by someone while Blitz protects him with some kind of sword, with the floor appearing to suggest that this takes place outside of formerly Stolas' palace, said attacker has been commonly theorized to either be Andrealphus or Paimon.
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We see a frozen over version of formerly Stolas' palace in the background, considering the events of Mastermind it now appears like Andrealphus is defending the palace against whatever it is that he's looking at, not a hostile takeover that we assumed it would be initially.
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We see Octavia during this scene, everything about this shot seems to suggest that Octavia is getting a song of her own this episode, with this further getting backed up by Sam Haft's response to "Sam what heartbreaking song did you write this time."
It's also very likely that the conflict between Stolas and Octavia reaches it's boiling point this episode, considering that Octavia says "You never loved mother and you don't love me. You love him!" at some point during the episode.
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Finally, in the helluva 2022 trailer, we see a shot of Andrealphus (I think this is a beta design of him or something), standing in front of what looks like formerly Stolas' palace, with a bunch of what looks like ice in the background, placing this shot after Mastermind, meaning that this shot also takes place sometime during Sinsmas, if this scene wasn't scrapped.
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ottosbigtop · 2 days ago
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king what do you think of comic #7 :D
I JUST finished it like 30 minutes ago so i definitely need to reread it a couple hundred times like i did iwth the other ones but. Highlight moments
PAULING NAME REVEAL. That was awesome
pauling and engineer are FRIENDS they are FRIENDS and he wants to make sure she does the right thing but hes not going to stop her from doing what she wants
Pauling and spy are also friends. I like htat :)
the spy face reveal made me like leave my seat and pace around my room. He looks exactly how everyone expected him to look but the fact that they did that at all was so unexpected.
ZHANNA AND SOLDIER HAVE KIDS !!!!!! LOVE WINS!!!!!!!!
i love scout being a single dad i think thats beautiful. I wish his mom had shown up in the final panel.
on the whole i think it was just a very solid conclusion . It did exactly what it was supposed to and it tied things up, which i did not expect at all. i like that the answer to what the Administrator was doing was.. not all that much, really. At the end of the day her goals were just as aimless as any of the Manns. It definitely feels more like an epilogue than a full issue, and with that theres kind of some lingering disappointment that there wasn’t more to the comic after 7 years of waiting, but ignoring the wait time, i think it did what it set out to do well. In all its clunky and unserious tf2 glory.
If there’s one critique i could give, i would say i really wish we had more of the mercs interacting with each other. We didnt get to see them meet up with Engie properly again which felt kind of underwhelming and for the most part they just kind of did a lot of standing around, behind or next to Pauling. like, it was a good ending, but definitely more for the Administrator and Pauling and the Mann characters stories, not reaaally great for more content of the mercs. But they’ve all been a sideline to Pauling as shes been the mc through most of this really. Its not necessarily new to want more of them dicking around, but i still miss it.
at the end of the day. 10/10. God this style is gorgeous. Im SO happy they moved away from the style of the 6th edition to get closer to the style that was more like what makani did in the other previous issues. And im glad we dont have to stare at a grey box on the comics page anymore yearning for issue 7.
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missdynamighttt · 21 hours ago
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↳ ❝ THERE'S NO ONE LIKE YOU, SWEETS. ❞
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ synopsis: in which, you make what feels like the worst decision of your life—getting into a hot tub with your fake boyfriend, katsuki bakugou.
starring: fake boyfriend! katsuki bakugou x oblivious! reader ⍣ ೋ
disclaimers!: fake established relationship, prefers ass, humping/ grinding, a little degradation, fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), sexual stuff in water
note: pro hero! katsuki drabble, usage of "woman", "sweets" "baby", "slut", fem reader, fake relationship trope, inspired by to all the boys ive loved before hot tub/ jacuzzi scene. I KNOW I HAVE A POLL, I PROMISE ILL GET TO THAT, JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS OFF OF MY CHEST💜💜
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╰┈➤ ❝ [this is so stupid...] ❞ you mumble, walking down the hallway to the pool area, your arms crossed as the cold winter breeze hits your skin.
somehow, kirishima talked you into confronting your 'boyfriend', katsuki bakugou, after he started ignoring you in the class 1A ski-trip/christmas party this year.
"c'mon, girl, hes probably waiting for you in the hot tub 'nyway. get in there, and get him!"
it was only supposed to be a fake arrangement between you two. to be honest, you're not even sure why hes mad. but he was.
the hand-holding, hugs and kisses started to feel too real, the closeness felt too intimate. it was all getting in your head so you distanced yourself from him, sitting next to ochako in the bus instead of katsuki.
katsuki needed to get his ranks up in the charts and you needed publicity. that was all there was to it. supposed to be, anyway.
you reach the pool area and thats when you see him. katsuki bakugo. in the hot tub. shirtless. and in swimming trunks. he's lounging with his eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed, letting the heat and jets of the tub ease his muscles.
you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. you draw closer to the hot tub, perching yourself on the ledge across from katsuki, not getting in the water because you had a night gown on. for now.
though his eyes are closed, a slight shift in his demeanor reveals that he's aware of your presence. even in his attempt to maintain a façade of calm, the subtle tension in his shoulders and the tightening of his jaw betray his awareness of you.
"katsuki?" you tilt your head, trying to get his attention.
when he doesn't respond, you scoff, crossing your arms.
"wow, katsuki, real mature."
his eyebrow twitches at the comment on his maturity, his eyes flutter open. he looks at you with an unimpressed stare, his expression a mix of annoyance and... something else.
"oh, because you're a real shinin' example of maturity," he retorts, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
you frown at him. "seriously, why are you mad at me? and don't go yappin' about how you're not mad, i can tell."
"why do you think?" he grumbles, unable to meet your eyes as his cheeks tinged pink.
"...you've been hangin' around with round cheeks all fuckin' day."
that was all he was mad about? is he.. no. he couldn't be jealous. he had no reason to.
"that... that shouldn't matter."
"well, it does matter, goddamn it," he mutters angrily as his scowl deepens, his jaw clenching in frustration.
"you don't get it, do you? you're my girlfriend, you were supposed to sit with me."
"fake girlfriend-"
"i don't give a flyin' fuck. you're still my girlfriend, woman, fake or not. i expected you to sit with me. and instead, what do i see? you hangin' out with fuckin..."
he lets out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his wet hair. he looks like he's trying to find the right words to express his feelings without coming across as too jealous or vulnerable.
"fuck. fuck, i'm... i'm not tryna control you, okay? but it bugs the shit out of me. it bugs me that you were hanging with round face. it bugs me that you sat next to her instead of me."
katsuki's gaze softens at your quiet, conflicted expression. he sighs again, his eyes briefly darting away from you before he continues.
"i... i even brought your damn favorite snacks in case you got hungry," he mutters, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "i thought, we could have sat together and, you know..."
you look up at him, a hint of surprise widening your eyes. you contemplate how to continue, trying to lighten the mood with a soft smile. "do you... still have some left over?"
katsuki scoffs at the attempt to change the mood, but can't help the brief spark of amusement that flickers in his eyes.
"no, obviously," he replies with a roll of his eyes. "i ate some and gave kirishima the rest after you decided to ditch me."
"rude."
"damn right, it was rude. tch, ditchin' me like that."
you let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head, looking at him with a soft gaze. "i'm.. i'm sorry i didn't sit next to you."
katsuki's ears turned slightly pink as he hears your apology. he glances at you hesitantly before looking away again, trying to maintain his aloof demeanor.
"yeah, well, apology accepted, i guess," he mutters, his voice lacking its usual sharpness.
you nod, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. after a brief moment of silence, you gather your courage and shed your nightgown, revealing your bare skin as you slowly step into the warm embrace of the hot tub.
katsuki's eyes widen as you stripped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight of you in just a pair of black bra and panties. his eyes roam over your body greedily, taking in every curve and contour.
he clears his throat, his gaze is fixed on your figure as you step into the hot tub, the warm water enveloping you. he tries to keep his thoughts in check, but the sight of you like this, almost naked, is making it incredibly hard (like his dick).
"damn..." he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "what are you doing to me, sweets?"
you look at him with eyebrows raised, a soft smile formed on your lips. "hm?"
he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. the water laps around you two, creating a sense of intimacy, and it only adds to the tension.
"seriously, do you have to look like that right now?"
"like what?"
"like... that," his voice is hoarse, gesturing vaguely at your form. "like you're tryna drive me crazy."
katsuki reaches out, his hand hovering just above your torso before finally making contact, his fingers gently carressing the curve of your waist. his hand felt so warm, almost competing with the heat in his eyes now mixed with his raw desire for you.
"damn it, woman. you're killin' me here..."
"can i apologize for that too?"
"i'll forgive you... under one condition," he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. his hand slowly roams over your bare skin, exploring your body with a newfound confidence.
he pulls you closer, the water sloshing around you as he guides you onto his lap. his arms encircle your waist firmly, every contour and dip of your bodies fitting perfectly against each other. the corners of his mouth tug to a grin."sit here for me."
your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a rush of heat across your cheeks. you could feel his hot, raging boner, pressing up against your cunt through the thin, pathetic fabric you call panties.
a cheeky grin spreads across your face. "katsuki, is that...?"
he groans, his voice low and gruff with frustrated desire. "just shut the fuck up, sweets."
his hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you nearer, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, hungry kiss. his tongue dances with yours, greedy and demanding.
the kiss was intense, filled with pent-up longing and need and so much words both of you couldn't say.
he keeps you trapped against his body with his arms in the hot tub, his touch both tender and possessive.
"such a nice fuckin' ass.." he whispers, groping and massaging your doughy ass before pulling you back in for a deeper kiss.
your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you grind on his hard-on, a little embarassed as you feel your panties dampen more from the water and your slick but can't help but want him. need him.
"fuck," he groans, feeling his cock get so painfully hard just from you humping him. "you little.."
your breath hitches when you felt his hand slide down your inner thigh, tugging the pathetic g-string to the side. he enters a finger inside of you, seperating your folds, feeling your warm pussy and your wet slick in the midst of the water. "k-katsuki-"
"aww, this all for me, sweets?" he coos, watching you whimper as he rubs your aching clit.
you pout as you grind against his hand, desperate for friction. your teeth sink into your lip as he put a second finger, your eyes glistening with a mixture of desire and greed. "so what if it is..?"
"that fucking eager for me, huh?" he chuckles darkly, his fingers enveloped by the warmth of your pussy as he curls them inside of you. "gonna take it all for me, yeah?"
you nodded, clinging onto him like a lifeline, whimpering and mewling choked versions of his name. "fuck, fuck.. kat- katsu.. katsuki..."
katsuki groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hand your hips grip you tighter, pulling you closer, while curling his thick digits against your sensitive spots, the sound of your lewd noises music to his ears.
"see my fingers fuckin' you, baby?" he mutters, his lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your tender skin. "only i can make your pretty pussy feel this good, yeah?"
"mhm," you manage. despite the embarrassment, you can't help but give in to the heat building between you.
his eyes lock onto yours, his voice sultry and mean. "you know, you're such a fuckin' slut. lettin' me finger you like this where anyone can see us."
a loud moan escapes your lips as your pussy clenches around his fingers at the name. you couldn't help it. fuck, he was so, so mean. and you fucking loved it.
a cocky grin spreads across his face, letting out a low chuckle. "oh? you like it when i call you a slut?" he taunts, bringing a grin to his face at your reaction. "can't believe you're into that shit, sweets."
"it's your fault- fuck.."
"oh? blamin' me now?" he taunts, a cocky expression on his face. "thought you were more.. mature than that."
katsuki flaps his fingers faster inside of you, abandoning the slow, careful pace of curling he did earlier. your slick and the hot tub water moistens his fingers, yet you can still smell the faint hit of your cunt.
"katsukiii! fuck, fuck, fuck. too much, too much..."
"just look at you, sweets. takin' my fingers like a champ, such a good fuckin' girl," he coos, his filthy praises making your pussy clench around his fingers.
"bet you wanted this as much as i did, did you?"
"n-no-"
"bullshit. if you don't, tell me to stop right now."
"sh-shit, no.. don't stop, please.. please, i need you.."
"that's what i thought," his grin widens, his hand that had been resting on your hip moves lower, tapping your leg gently. "lift your hips up for me."
with a nod, you comply, the water rippling around you as it drips out of your legs, katsuki finally seeing your sweet little cunt without the transluscent filter of the water. his grip on your thigh tightens slightly, letting out a shaky exhale as he rubs your clit.
"you close, sweets?" he glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, feeling you nod before he leans in for a long, lingering kiss.
"cum on my face, 'kay?" he utters softly after pulling away, leaning down on your sweet cunt before lapping his tongue away at your aching slit while still pumping his fingers full of you.
his tongue felt so good. he felt so good, it hurts. all you could smell was the intoxicating scent of your cunt and katsuki's saliva sloshed together.
"katsuki..." you can't help but let out a lewd mewl, whimpering as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your body.
"there's no one like you, sweets," katsuki groans into your pussy, the loud sounds he was making as he ate you out while he fucked his fingers into you was just so lewd. when it felt so good. when anyone could catch you doing this. "cum on my face, baby, c'mon.."
you shudder from the pleasure from his touch as you feel your release, chest heaving up and down as you catch your breath. though, his tongue kept flicking at your clit, pumping his fingers in and out of you as you ride your high.
your post-nut clarity kicks in. fuck, you just.. let katsuki bakugo, your fake boyfriend, not only finger you but you let him eat you out. it doesn't matter you were into him. he was still your fake boyfriend.
and not just anywhere, no. but in the damn hot tub. where anyone could've seen you. the worst part? you enjoyed it to your core.
before you can think loudly again, you feel his lips brush gently against your cheek. you turn to look at him, a little surprised at the sudden show of tenderness after the heated moment as your eyes meet. you take in the disheveled sight of him, his hair damp and wet as he catches his breath, your mind still trying to catch up to the events of tonight.
"sweets... my room. now. please."
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should i do part 2 guys lmaolmao hope you enjoyed 💜💜
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t-horn-n · 1 day ago
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— cucumber cool
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pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader (female)
genre: fluff 
summary: simon carries a picture of you in his wallet from your school days.
word count: 1 106
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On the day you graduated from secondary school, you lightly punched Simon Riley on the shoulder and said, “Don’t be a stranger.” 
He remembers how you looked then.  Your hair was down and curled, for once, and you had on a dusting of makeup because you promised your grandmother a nice photo from the event.  It was a rather temperate June late morning and now, when he thinks back to that day, he remarks upon how young you both were.  
You were going out to lunch with your parents to celebrate going to uni and he was taking his kid brother out to grab a greasy slice of pizza somewhere before he went off to basic training.  
He knew that it was more likely than not that he’d never see you again.  All he really wanted to do was to be a grunt in the military and fade away.  He was sure that you would get your degree and do something meaningful.  Or if not meaningful, interesting, at least.  
The two of you started off as friends of circumstance: you were in the same film photography class because he needed another art credit to graduate and you needed a class to fill up your schedule.  He liked the soft ratcheting sound the camera made as it moved the roll of film, too.  
“Hey, nice boots,” you told him on the first day of the class and the rest is history.  
Now, he has a picture of you in his wallet that he’s been carrying for at least a decade.  Its edges are frayed and discolored from years of rubbing against loose bills and coins.  You’re a little awkward looking in it.  You still had your baby face.  
The only reason why he has the silly thing is because you goaded him into putting one of the extra prints you had from a portrait assignment into his wallet thinking there was absolutely no way he would follow through.  What kind of sixteen-year-old boy walks around carrying a photo of his friend next to his student card?
He just shrugged in that way he often did—a kid of action rather than words—and slid your photo into his uncle’s hand-me-down wallet.  Done and done, cool as a cucumber.  
You laughed to conceal your surprise.  Whatever you felt in that moment was wedged between embarrassment and excitement.  What person doesn’t delight in being liked?  It made something in your chest puff up.  
By now, though, whatever has kept your image with him all these years later is between Simon and his own affections.  Every time he opens his wallet to retrieve cash, he almost surprises himself.  On some occasions, usually after particularly punishing missions, he’ll pull the picture out and look at the way your lips stretched into a smile.  He’ll follow the lines of your facial features and wonder how much they’ve changed since then.
On a snowy Tuesday in December, you meet by chance at a deli.  He’s off duty for the next two weeks and you’re on your lunch break picking up sandwiches for yourself and a friend at work.  You approach him first, from behind, but he knows you’re there even before you greet him.  The air around you smells the same way it did in school.  Now, it feels like walking nostalgia.
“Simon!” you say happily.
He knows that he isn’t all that similar looking to his sixteen-year-old self, so he wonders how you recognize him.  Funnily enough, you were actually planning to go down the street for takeaway salads, but you spotted him in the deli’s front window.  Well, you saw his back and found a persistent sense of familiarity in the curve of his shoulders.  It was awkward really: you stopped in the middle of the path and waited until you figured out who was standing on the other side of the glass.
Time is very strange.  A long time has passed since he last saw you.  He knows that.  Everything that has happened in the past decades has moved him consistently further from his adolescent self.  That, and he can see the ways you’ve changed.  You look older, certainly.  But there’s also evidence of the passage of time that’s intangible.  Maturity.  Experience.  
“Hello,” he replies.  Then, “How are you?”
You’ve grown out of your awkwardness, he notices.  You chat with him easily as if you hadn’t realized that it’s been years since you last saw him, not just a weekend.  You’ve heeded your own advice: “Don’t be a stranger.”  And he tries his best, too, but you don’t mind that he struggles to make eye contact or that he’s slow to respond with as much enthusiasm that you seem to have.  After you’ve both received your sandwiches, you part ways with your cell number in his phone and a promise to meet up for lunch late next week.
He has a vague sense of whiplash as he chews his lunch.  It feels sort of like the time that’s passed has been condensed.  
You find the picture when you two meet up the next week at this restaurant that has you hooked on its dipping sauces.  You’re sitting by the window and he’s sitting next to you in the booth.  It reminds you of how you used to sit in the cafeteria.  He was already rather large for his age back then so he would sit at the end of the bench so he could angle his knees out from under the table.  
You trick him into letting you out to pay by claiming you have to use the restroom.  But when he catches on to your plans, he throws his wallet at you.  
“You’re trusting me with this?” you joke.  “I could take it and run.”
“You’ve had too many fries to make it very far,” he quips softly. 
Laughing, you say, “Well, thank you for lunch.”
Your laugh hasn’t changed a bit.  
At first, you think that the little white card tucked in the pocket of his wallet is a coupon or a picture of a cat or something.  
“Oh my God,” you say as you make your way back to the table where Simon is picking the rest of your fries off the plate.  “You still have it.”
“Hm?” he grunts.              
You wave the little rectangular photo between your fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” he says, a little shyly.  “Never had a reason to take it out, I guess.”
“Damn, I don’t think I have any of my old photos from that class anymore,” you lament while leaning over to grab a fry.
“Hey, you’re getting grease all over it,” he grumbles. 
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— tags
@thecursebreaker
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— m. list
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wafflefries13 · 2 days ago
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Asking Out the Twisted Wonderland Cast (Multi TWST cast X Reader)
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Summary: Sometimes, you can't just wait for good things to happen to you. Time to screw your courage to the sticking place and finally ask out that boy you like!
AN: I meant for these each to be like 200 word drabbles. Some of them kind of got away from me, lol.
Cross-posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen
Warnings: Fluff, AFAB reader with she/her pronouns.
Part 2: First Dates
The sounds of the NRC cafeteria clattered around the group of first years. Utensils scraping on plates, sizzling from the open window to the kitchen, a hundred different conversations from all sides. Their small group sat clustered around their table, nestled close together to be heard over the general din. 
“I’m just saying,” Ace said, mouth half full. 
“You’re always ‘just saying’,” Deuce said. 
Ace shoved him. “I’m just saying, if you want to try out for the anchor position on the track team you have to actually ask for it. Get Coach Vargas and don’t stop bugging him until he sees what you can do! No one’s going to just wait for it to happen.” 
“And I’m saying it doesn't do any good to be a nuisance when I don’t even know if I’m good enough yet. I might as well wait till tryouts next semester.” 
“No, no, he’s right,” (Y/N) said, distantly. 
“Yeah!” Ace said. “Wait, right about what?” 
“You can’t just wait for stuff to happen to you. If you really want something you have to go and take it for yourself.” She stood abruptly, face determined. “I need to ask something.” 
Ace:
“Ace!” 
Ace jumped, brushing off crumbs from his jacket. “What? What did I do now?” 
“Do you want to go out with me?” 
Epel choked, Jack thumping him on the back. Deuce looked like she had just insulted his mother. Sebek rolled his eyes as he took another bite. Ortho gasped, leaning forward, eyes wide and excited. 
“I-What?” Ace stuttered, his face rapidly turning red. “Where the heck did that come from?” 
“You were just saying you shouldn’t wait for something you want. I like you, I have for a while now. So, do you want to go out?” 
Ace stuttered out a reply, slapping on his normal cocky smile but decidedly not meeting (Y/N)’s eyes. “I mean, yeah, of course you fell for me! It’s about time you said something. But, um, yeah, I’d like that. A lot.” 
“Well,” Deuce said, rolling his eyes. “It’s about time one of you said something.” 
“Hey!” Ace shouted. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
(Y/N) playfully shoved him. “Oh, please, don’t act like I haven’t noticed that you like me too. You’re not subtle about it.” 
“What made you think that?” 
“Ace, within the first week of me being here you asked to sleep in the same bed as me twice.” 
From another table, definitely not eavesdropping, Riddle fainted. 
Deuce:
“Deuce!” Deuce jumped at (Y/N) suddenly shouting his name. “I need your help with something. Can you come with me for a second?” 
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course.” Deuce ignored Ace’s pointed look. Deuce followed (Y/N) out of the cafeteria down the halls. “Where are we going?” 
(Y/N) suddenly turned around, Deuce almost colliding with her. Before he could apologize, she took his hands, looking up into his eyes as he felt blood rush to his cheeks. 
“I just wanted somewhere more private,” She said. “Deuce, I really like you. Will you go out with me?” 
“I-huh?! I mean, yeah, yes! I like you, too!” He rubbed the back of his head and looked away shyly. “Man, I wanted to ask you out first.” 
(Y/N) grinned. “Really? How were you going to do it?” 
“Well, my mom said that when my dad first asked her out he got her this big bouquet of flowers. But he ended up being allergic to them so he kept sneezing the whole time. She took him to the infirmary at their school and he had to write it down since his face was too swollen to talk.” 
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to flowers. Maybe we can skip the rest of that, though.” 
Deuce marched over to the cut out window of the hallway, opening out onto the quad. Reaching over, he plucked a fluffy pink peony from one of the bushes. He came back to (Y/N), suddenly very flustered, and held it out to her. 
“(Y/N),” He began. 
She clasped her hands together. “Yes?” 
“Would you do me the honor of - Ah!” Deuce yelped as a bee flew out of the peony blossom, shooting for Deuce’s face to sting him. 
Turns out, they did spend time in the infirmary. But, after (Y/N) kissed his cheek and gently held the flower, Deuce didn’t seem to mind too much. 
Trey: 
“Ow!” 
Trey paused outside the Heartslabyul kitchen as he heard the exclamation from inside. He was planning on testing out a new bread recipe his parents had sent him and wasn’t expecting anyone else to be using the kitchen that day. He peaked in, seeing (Y/N), Grim, Ace, and Deuce crowded around the island in the middle. (Y/N) was blowing on a burn on her hand, Grim rifling through the pantry for various sweets, and Ace and Deuce waving away smoke from a burnt pastry freshly pulled from the oven. 
“I told you!” (Y/N) said. “You can’t just raise the temperature for it to cook faster, it’ll just burn!” 
“Well, sorry for trying to make your confession go faster before you chicken out,” Ace said. 
“I’m not going to chicken out! Probably. Maybe. What if the pie burning is an omen?” 
“I wouldn’t read too deeply into it,” Trey said, entering the kitchen. The first years jumped, (Y/N)’s eyes going wide and she stared at the floor. 
“Well!” Deuce said, grabbing Ace and Grim and hurrying them out the door. “Omen or not, that’s our cue to leave. Good luck, (Y/N)!” 
Silence echoed around the two of them as the door of the kitchen thunked closed. (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers, still not looking up. Trey walked around the island, looking at the smoldering pie. There was a mostly neat lattice across the bubbling fruit, with extra crust cut into letters around the rim. 
“‘Trey,’” He read. “‘Will you-’”
“Ah! No, wait!” (Y/N) jumped forward, covering it with her hands. She jumped back as her palm accidentally hit the hot pie tin, giving her another burn. 
“Oh, wait, hang on.” Trey quickly went over to the sink, grabbing a clean towel and soaking it in cold water. He gently took her hand, pressing it to the burn. (Y/N) chewed her lip. “You know, I’d be happy to help if you want to try again. I’ve been wanting to try this new butter pie crust that’s good with custards and-”
“I really like you!” (Y/N) blurted out, face going as hot as the burn on her hand. “Would you want to go out with me? Please?” 
Trey tightened his grip on her hand, careful to avoid the injury. He smiled, laughing. “I was wondering if I should say it first. I guess you beat me to it. Yes, (Y/N), I’d love to go out with you.”  
Cater: 
Cater was relaxing in the Heartslabyul gardens, a can of red paint discarded beside him. He hummed something the pop music club had been working on as he scrolled through Magicam. He took a quick selfie, winking, tongue out with a peace sign, before refreshing his feed. 
He paused when he saw (Y/N) come across his dash. She was smiling brightly, one arm arched above her head and the other held down at an angle to create half a heart. The word ‘Will’ was written in bubbly cartoon letters in the middle. A few posts later, there was a second photo, an almost perfect mirror of the first to complete the heart. The word ‘You’ was written in the middle of this one. 
Cater almost felt like he was solving a puzzle as he searched the rest of his feed for more posts. Each had (Y/N) in a dramatic pose, adding another word to complete the sentence, ‘Go,’ ‘Out,’ ‘With’, ‘Me.’ When he realized it was a request to ask someone out, he couldn’t help but feel a little deflated. He shook his head. Of course (Y/N) would be crushing on someone. With all the adventures she had gone on during their time at NRC, it would make sense to develop strong feelings. He tried to quiet the voice in his head that hoped those strong feelings would go his way. Well, whatever, that just meant he had to keep a close eye on whoever had earned her affections, maybe give them a good threatening to treat her right while he was at it. 
Cater tapped on her name, taking him to her Magicam profile. It felt like just the other day when he was helping her set it up. He sighed at the happy memory. For a second, it occurred to him that the message (Y/N) had been spelling out in pictures didn’t end with a question mark. He thought it was weird. Was it a mistake? Then his eye caught on the latest picture, posted just a second before. 
It was a selfie of (Y/N) holding a large bouquet of yellow and orange flowers, marigolds, daisies, and buttercups. The majority of the frame was over her shoulder, showing Cater himself sitting against the hedges. His name was drawn in the same cartoon font with a question mark, surrounded by a heart.  
Cater snapped up, whirling around. He quickly whipped away the happy tears budding at the corner of his eyes as he saw (Y/N) waiting for him. The flowers were crushed between them as he scooped her up in a tight hug, both of them laughing. 
(They both carefully rearranged the flowers after to be presentable for the mandatory #TogetherForever couple photoshoot after.) 
Riddle: 
Riddle frowned at the commotion building from the Heartslabyul common room. He could make out the familiar rising sounds of Ace and Deuce’s voices. He began marching to the source of the racket, faltering a little when he heard (Y/N)’s voice joining in. Mentally scolding himself from eavesdropping  (it wasn’t eavesdropping, he was keeping tabs on his dorm mates, that’s it) he hovered near the cracked open door. 
“No, wait!” (Y/N) said. “We can’t use coral roses! I said pink!” 
Ace huffed. “What’s the difference?” 
(Y/N) tapped a small dark red book she was holding. “Coral roses symbolize desire, pink roses mean admiration and happiness. I’m not trying to scare him off before I can even ask him out!” 
Before he could even think about it, Riddle threw open the door, shouting, “Just what is going on here?” 
Everyone inside jumped. Riddle swept his eyes across the room, taking in the bundles and bundles of roses in multiple colors carefully poised on every surface. Ace and Deuce were meticulously balancing a bouquet in the chandelier, plucking out the offending coral colored roses. Cater was smirking in the corner, phone poised to capture everything. Trey chuckled behind his own large bouquet of yellow roses.. 
“Um,” She said, startled by his interruption. Taking a deep breath, she set the book down and picked up a bouquet of lavender roses, shoving them in Riddle’s direction. 
‘Lavender,’ He thought. ‘Love at first sight.’ 
“Riddle!” She said, probably a little too loudly. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
The silence that followed was deafening. Cater tried to break the tension with a laugh. “Aww, (Y/N),” He said. “What happened to that whole speech you had?” 
“He surprised me!” She said. “Oh, wait, hang on, I still have it.” Without thinking, she shoved the bouquet in Riddle’s arms, searching her pockets to pull out a neatly folded piece of notebook paper. “Ahem. Riddle, I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Heartslabuyl with the single objective to see you. I-” 
“Everyone out!” Riddle shouted. As the group scuttled to the door, he pointed at (Y/N). “Not you.” 
The door thudded behind them, Ace and Deuce giving a quick thumbs up and what was supposed to be a confident smile as they left. (Y/N) crinkled the paper in her hands. 
“It gets better,” She said meekly. “The speech. Although I guess in the movie it ends with a rejection too. I should have used the one from the end, or Shakespeare maybe. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more - well, I guess you're not very temperate. Wait, let me try again.” 
“(Y/N),” He said. He held the lavender flowers tightly. “You know what this means?” 
“Oh, the flowers? Yeah, I, um, I’ve been studying.” She picked the book back up, shyly holding it up. Riddle could read the title now: The Queen of Hearts Guide to Courtship and Love. 
“You,” Riddle said, feeling his face heat up. He held up the flowers. “You mean it? Really?” 
(Y/N) took a step towards him, understanding softening the worry on her face. “Of course. I wanted to ask you out and I thought, well,” She waved at the multicolored roses, laughing. “Go big or go home, right?” 
“It certainly is a statement.” Riddle picked up a yellow rose with red tipping the petals and handed it to her. (Y/N) recognized the colors immediately as meaning ‘Falling in love.’ She gasped in happiness, jumping forward to wrap Riddle in a tight hug. 
Leona: 
“Ruggie!” Ruggie paused as he heard (Y/N) call his name. She jogged over to him where he held Leona’s typical boxed lunch order. “Hey, that’s for Leona, right? Do you mind if I bring it to him? There’s something important I have to talk to him about.” Ruggie considered it for a moment before shrugging and handing it over, but not before stealing a couple of chips to pop into his mouth as he strolled away. 
(Y/N) found Leona in his normal spot, a hidden alcove in the gardens in the biodome. He was laying on his back, arms crossed behind his head, and eyes closed as he dozed. He cracked his eye open as (Y/N) approached. 
“Hi,” She said, kneeling down beside him. 
“Hmm,” He replied. 
“I have something important to ask you.” 
“Are you going to try and make me get up?” “No.” 
“Alright, ask away.” 
“Will you go out with me?” 
Leona’s eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at (Y/N), smiling sincerely at him, and maybe holding his lunch hostage until she got an answer. 
“I really like you,” She continued. “You’re brave and confident and know exactly who you are. Sure, you can be stubborn as hell, but you also really care about people close to you. Don’t make that face, you can’t fool me. You could have easily thrown me out when Grim and I needed someplace to stay when Azul took over Ramshackle, but you didn’t. You didn’t even kick us out when we were making so much noise and annoying you, you helped us break Azul’s contracts instead. You joined the Culinary Crucible because Epel did and you wanted to keep an eye on your team mate. Please, as if you ever need to learn how to cook, I know you can’t even use a microwave. And you pretend not to notice when Ruggie steals your credit card. And there was that time you followed all of us to Playful Land because you were worried we were going to get scammed. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. You’ve got a big heart of gold under that spiky exterior. And I really admire you for that. I… I really love you, Leona.” 
“Well,” Leona said, laying back down, tail flicking. “I suppose going on a date wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” (Y/N) decided not to point out the content smile stretching across his face. She made a move to stand up, but Leona shot an arm out to hook around her waist, pulling her down next to him with an “Oof.” “Now don’t tell anyone else about all that,” Leona grumbled without any real heat. 
Ruggie: 
Ruggie was in Leona’s room, folding laundry while the house warden took a nap behind him. Ruggie stretched his arms above his head, sighing when there was a satisfying pop in his back. Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Ruggie yelped and Leona woke with an undignified snort. 
“Gah, what now?” Leona mumbled. 
“Ruggie!” (Y/N) said, standing in the doorway. She was panting as if she had just run across campus (she had). 
“Uh, what? Yeah? Whatever it was, I didn’t take it!” 
Unperturbed, (Y/N) marched over to him, taking both his hands in hers. “You did take something.” Ruggie frantically tried to remember if he had stolen anything from Ramshackle recently. He tried not to, knowing (Y/N) was pretty much as broke as he was. It didn’t seem fair. And maybe he liked her a little too much to swipe something. “You stole my heart!” (Y/N) continued dramatically. “Will you go out with me?” 
Behind them, Leona coughed to unconvincingly cover up a laugh. 
Ruggie’s ears flattened to his head in shock. He reached back and batted at his tail as if that would get it to stop wagging. “I - what? Are you sure? Me? What?” 
“Of course! You’re resourceful, you work hard, you’re clever, and you care a lot about your family back home. I really admire all that about you and more! Not to mention you’re super cute. So, will you go out with me?” 
“Oh, just say yes already, Ruggie,” Leona said, settling down to continue his nap. “At least then I won’t have to hear you being such a sap all the time.” 
Ruggie let out his signature laugh. He tightened his grip on (Y/N)’s hands. “Well, sure then, why not? As long as you’re paying, right?” 
Jack: 
Jack and Vil were out on their daily morning run. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting the Night Raven College campus in a warm golden light. At their halfway point, they took a break, Vil stretching in his cooldown. 
“You sure you don’t want to keep going with me?” Jack asked. 
“No,” Vil said. “I’d rather stay slim than bulk up like you. I have my status to maintain. And besides, it looks like I would be interrupting something rather important.” He smiled knowingly and pointed with his chin a little ways down the sidewalk. 
Jack turned. He felt his tail start to wag on its own when he saw (Y/N) standing by one of the Great Seven statues, drawing circles in the ground with her foot. She looked up, breaking out in a warm smile when she saw him. Vil chuckled under his breath and waved as he headed back to Pomfiore. 
Jack clenched his jaw, willing his tail to stay still as he approached her. “Good morning. You’re not usually up this early, right? Is everything okay?” 
(Y/N) jutted her arms out completely straight, offering up the flowering Chin cactus in her hands. “Jack!” She said. “I really like you. I love how brave you are. I love how you’re dedicated to the people you care about. I love how you can be sweet and kind even when you try to act tough all the time. Would you go out with me?” 
“Yes!” Jack replied, almost before the words had even left (Y/N)’s mouth. He put his hands over hers, cradling the cactus. “I mean, yes, I would like to go out with you. Very much.” 
Azul: 
Azul jumped as (Y/N) slammed her hands on his desk in the VIP room of the Monstro Lounge. He quickly gathered his composer, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “Well, Prefect, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 
“I have a deal for you,” She said confidently. 
“Oh? I’d love to hear it.” 
Smiling, she whipped out a sheet of paper and slapped it on top of the other documents Azul had spread over his desk. On the top of the page in an elegant script were the words ‘Contract of First Date.’ Azul felt a lump form in his throat as his heart sped up. He quickly scanned over the rest of the ‘contract,’ outlining the proposed date. 
“Terms of the deal,” (Y/N) continued. “You, me, romantic night out. I know a guy in Craneport who said we could use one of their rowboats and I found this really cool pond with all these willow trees and fireflies. Plus I have this cute picnic basket all set up. Jamil has been teaching me how to cook, you know? Can’t say it’ll be as good as his, if we’re being honest about the terms of agreement. And the contract leaves an opening for future dates depending on the success of this one! Of course, success is not really a super definable term but you get what I mean. So, do we have a deal?” 
Azul covered his face with one hand, trying desperately to ignore how red his face must be at this point. He couldn’t seem to meet her enthusiastic and twinkling eyes. 
“I, uh,” (Y/N) continued, shyer this time as Azul scanned over the contract. “I really like you, Azul. A lot. So, will you go out with me?” 
He looked back down at the contract where her name was written in elegant script at the bottom with space for his next to it. He cleared his throat, bringing back his practiced (definitely not shady) businessman smile. With a sweep of his pen, he said, “It’s a deal.” 
Jade: 
(Y/N) marched across the cafeteria, determination in her eyes. She stopped in front of a table with Jade, Floyd, and Azul. “Hi!” She said, maybe a little too loudly with nerves. Jade and Azul looked up from their conversation, Floyd pausing his efforts in making a castle out of mashed potatoes. “Jade, I really like you. Do you want to go out with me?” 
“Oh?” Jade said, a brief moment of genuine surprise crossing his face before he schooled his features back into pleasant neutrality. “Well, what a pleasant surprise.” 
Floyd snorted and elbowed his brother. “Shrimpy’s got a crush,” He said in a sing-song voice. 
“I must admit,” Jade said, pouting with one hand on his cheek. “I always did imagine a more theatrical confession. Nonetheless, I happily acc-” 
“I can do that!” (Y/N) interrupted. Holding on to Floyd’s shoulder for balance, she climbed on top of the table. She clapped her hands loudly, shouting, “Attention! Attention, please, everyone! I have an announcement!” She cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I would like to declare my unequivocal, utter devotion and love for Jade Leech.” She heard a choking sound below her but continued on. “I am hopelessly in love, helplessly enraptured, and absolutely head over heels. And it is my deepest hope that he could return my affections. Thank you.” With that, she hopped down, beaming. There was a smattering of applause and laughter from around the room. Epel whooped from back at the first year table. 
Jade’s hands covered his blushing face, fierce sharp eyes peeking out between his fingers. His mouth was split in a wide smile, sharp teeth glinting in a mixture of bashfulness, excitement, and desire. 
“Congratulations, (Y/N),” Azul said. “I can barely remember that last time Jade was actually flustered.” 
“Aww, look at him, he’s speechless!” Floyd teased. 
(Y/N) winced. “Sorry, was that too far?” 
Jade shot out with lightning speed, crushing her in his tight eel grip. “I should let you know,” He whispered to her. “I expect this level of dedication for the entirety of our relationship.” 
Floyd: 
Floyd darted through the stacks of the library. He could have sworn he saw Goldfish in here earlier, and he was in the mood to mess with the easily angered boy. And, while he didn’t find Riddle, he did pause as he saw (Y/N) between the books. He paused, pushing a few books aside to rest his chin on the shelf, an easy smile crossing his face as he spied on her. 
She was hunched over one of the study tables, a large book propped up and open in front of her. She was diligently working on something in her hands, tongue poking out between her lips (lips that Floyd found himself thinking about more often than he would admit), looking back up at the book in front of her every so often. 
Dropping down low, Floyd carefully made his way behind her, silent on his feet. Rising up to his full height behind her, unsuspecting, he jolted forward, wrapping her in a backward hug and pulling her back so the chair careened back on two legs. 
“Shrimpy!” He said, taking delight in her startled squeal. “Whatcha doin’?” 
“God, Floyd,” (Y/N) said, putting a hand to her chest to calm her raging heart. Her eyes suddenly went wide and she lunged forward to cover what she was working on with her arms. “Ah! Don’t look, don’t look! It’s not done!” 
Floyd grinned again. “Aww, it’s not nice to keep secrets.” His hands shot out, pulling out the thing she was hiding. (Y/N) covered her face as Floyd inspected the object. It was a thick piece of twine, various polished shells, sea glass, and dried shiny scales strung throughout. Although it wasn’t exactly neat, the way it caught the sunlight cast tiny rainbows and simmers around the library. Floyd peered at the open book. It was a cultural history of merpeople in the Coral Sea. The opened chapter described mer courting rituals and marriage traditions. Floyd started cackling as (Y/N) buried her face further in her hands.  
“How old is this thing?” Floyd asked, poking at the book. “I don’t even think my grandparents made courting charms.” 
“Shut up,” (Y/N) mumbled. “I was trying to… Forget it.” 
Floyd slipped the haphazard necklace over his neck, prying her hands away to hold them tightly in his. “I accept!” He said brightly. “This was for me, right? It better be, Shrimpy.” 
She smiled and flicked his forehead. “Possibly against my better judgment, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else, Floyd.” 
Kalim: 
Kalim knew he should probably be studying, but every time he opened a text book or looked at the notes Jamil had oh-so-carefully marked and tabbed for him, he felt his eyes start to droop and mind get fuzzy. A good after lunch walk was just what he needed, and he definitely wasn’t just saying that to put off work. 
He stopped when he realized he had wandered outside Ramshackle dorm. Was that on purpose? Did he subconsciously come here, with the hope he might see (Y/N)? Kalim walked up to the front door, knocking before opening the door and calling inside. 
“Hello! It’s Kalim! Can I come in?” 
There was a squawk of surprise from the front sitting room. (Y/N) poked her head around the corner, flustered. 
“Hi. Sure, come on in. Uh, sorry, I’m kind of in the middle of something.” 
“Can I help?” Kalim asked, walking over to her. Peering into the sitting room, Kalim’s face lit up. Every available surface, and a few unavailable surfaces, were covered in colored and patterned paper. There were stacks and crowds of tiny paper birds littered between everything. 
“I don’t know if it counts if more people make them.” 
Kalim sat on one of the plush chairs, picking up a flowery piece of paper. “If what will count?” 
“It’s an old superstition from my world. If you can fold 1000 paper cranes, your wish will come true. Or something like that.” 
“Ooh, origami! I’ve made decorations using that before! I’m not super good at it, but I’ll help if you want.” 
(Y/N) smiled and sat next to him and Kalim felt his heart flip. “Yeah, I’d like the company.” 
They lost track of time folding cranes, the sun beginning to set high above the dilapidated house. They talked the whole time, jumping from topic to topic, joke to joke, without any real sense of flow. It was warm, there in the small room, not only due to the crackling fireplace. 
“So,” Kalim asked eventually. “What wish were you wanting to make? If this dosen’t work out, I can help you with it!” 
(Y/N) suddenly went bashful, turning away to pay extra attention to the folds of her bird. “I…” She muttered. She took a deep breath, turning to fully face Kalim. “I was going to ask you out. You have all these elaborate decorations and parties all the time. I was going to string all of these together and hang them in your room then ask you out. But, now that you’re here… Kalim, would you go out with me?” 
Kalim dropped the paper crane, flinging himself across the couch to wrap her in a tight hug. “Yes! Yes, yes yes! Oh, I would love to! Huh, I guess that means I need to cancel that order of doves now. That’s how I was going to ask you out next week. Hey, we both thought of birds! That must mean we definitely belong together, right?” 
Jamil: 
“Be right back,” (Y/N) said, standing from the first year cafeteria table. She walked across the cafeteria until she stopped in front of Kalim and Jamil. 
Jamil was shoving a napkin at Kalim. “Careful, you’re going to get sauce all over your shirt.” 
“It’s fine, I’ll be careful! And besides, it’s a pretty color, right? Oh, hey, (Y/N)!” 
“Hi,” She said, looking solely at Jamil. “Jamil, I really like you. Would you want to go out with me?” 
Kalim gasped, hands to his cheeks as he looked excitedly from Jamil to (Y/N). Jamil sucked in a sharp breath, clenching his hands. “I…” He started. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I can’t.” 
“Oh.” Jamil looked down, but not before he caught the hurt confusion on (Y/N) face. “That’s okay. Thanks for hearing me out. Bye, guys.” She walked back to her table. 
Jamil only looked up again when Kalim slapped his arm. “Jamil! That was your chance!” 
Jamil scowled. “There is no chance. I said no, she accepted it. Drop it.” 
“But you told me you liked her!” 
“I said no such thing.” 
Kalim waved his hand dismissively. “I read between the lines.” 
“There were no lines!” 
“Jamil.” He looked up at Kalim. It wasn’t often the other boy used such a serious voice, or had such a set expression on his face. “You can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy because you feel like you don’t deserve it.” 
Jamil flinched back, standing suddenly. A million retorts zipped through this mind at once, all of them falling flat and dying on his tongue. Before he could say something he would regret, heart thundering in his ears, he fled the cafeteria, ignoring the stabbing looks from the first year table as (Y/N)’s friends gave her sympathetic pats on the back. 
Jamil couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, listening to the soft, even breathing of his roommate. Huffing in annoyance, he threw off the covers and left his room. He thought he would just take a walk, just get some fresh air. Without paying attention, Jamil’s feet took him out of Scarabia, across campus, and, before he knew it, in front of Ramshackle dorm. His fist hovered in front of the door, internally debating whether or not he should knock. He startled when he heard talking behind him, spotting (Y/N) and Malleus making their way up the pathway. 
(Y/N) stopped when she saw him. “Oh. Hi, Jamil.” 
“Hi,” Jamil said, limply lifting a hand in greeting. 
Malleus looked down at Jamil, glaring. “Viper.” It sounded more like an insult than his name. 
“Did you need something?” (Y/N) asked. “It’s kind of late. Is everything okay?” 
“I-” Jamil started. “I need to talk to you.” 
Malleus stepped in front of (Y/N), but stopped when (Y/N) put a hand on his arm. They had a quick and quiet conversation, Malleus nodded and walked away. (Y/N) came up to the front door, opening it for him. 
“I’ll make some tea,” She said as they stepped into the entryway. 
“Wait-” Jamil said, catching her hand. Everything tumbled out of him all at once. “I wanted to go out with you. I like you, so much so that it scares me sometimes. That’s why I said no earlier. I just think - I thought you would - should - do better than me, after everything that’s happened. But I -” He paused, only realizing now how out of breath he was. (Y/N) looked up at him and he felt breathless all over again. “I want to do better. I want to be better, for you if not for anything else. I know I probably don’t deserve it but, (Y/N), will you go out with me?” 
(Y/N) laughed, wiping away tears at the corners of her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Yes, I’d like that a lot.” 
Vil: 
Something was wrong, Vil could feel it. After all the chaos of his time at Night Raven College, he had almost developed a sixth sense for this type of thing. 
Vil narrowed his eyes, sweeping them over the Pomfiore sitting room. A group of students were sitting around one of the tables, studying. A few others were in front of the fireplace. A couple others were performing some viral dance for a Magicam reel. Nothing seemed amiss here. 
Vil walked down the hall of the dorm, heels clicking against the marble floor. With a missed step, Vil realized he hadn’t seen Epel or Rook in quite some time. That was… concerning. He quickened his walk. 
Vil almost gave himself whiplash as he passed by the ballroom. The door was cracked open ever so slightly so he could peer through. He felt slightly ridiculous, eavesdropping as if he wasn’t the caretaker for the dorm and all those in it. But his thoughts faltered as he observed the scene inside. He found Epel and Rook, as well as several other Pomfiore students, constructing elaborate sets out of painted cardboard and repurposed decorations from the dorm. Was that…? Something about this all seemed eerily familiar. 
“Wait, wait! You’re early!” (Y/N) said. She appeared in front of him, waving her hands to try and block his view. She grabbed his hand, tugging him out of the room. “Don’t look!” She pushed him back into the hall, disappearing back into the ballroom. A second later, she emerged with a chair, setting it down and waving to it. “Just another few minutes.” The door clicked closed behind her before Vil could say anything. He thought about barging in, demanding an explanation. But his curiosity got the better of him. And besides, he always loved to see what (Y/N) got up to. Huffing in amusement, he sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles. 
A while later, Epel, Rook, and the other students fled the ballroom, giving Vil knowing looks as they passed. With skepticism, Vil stood up and made his way inside. Standing in the doorway, he was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Taking a better look, he recognized the replica set. It was from one of his first ever movies, a children’s adventure called The Heist of the Everlasting Rose. This particular scene was set in a museum where the Everlasting Rose was kept. It had been a supporting role, where, ironically, he had played a child actor in part of a crew to steal the titular Rose to pay for the main character’s sister’s surgery, or some other such justifiable nonsense like that. It was his first big screen production, although it was a relatively low-budget and minor movie. He remembered after the film had come out he and his father would pour over reviews praising his performance. At that moment, he felt like he was on top of the world. 
Vil was brought out of his reminiscing by (Y/N)’s voice. “Hello, sir!” She said. She had put on a tour guide’s jacket, once again modeled after the one in the film. “Welcome to the museum! We have our prized exhibit right this way.” Vil smirked, humoring her, if nothing else than to see where this was all going. Linking their arms, (Y/N) brought him through the makeshift museum. “Legend has it that this rose was given by a cursed prince to his beloved, who saved him from the brink of death with its magical powers. Since then, it has been a symbol of pure and everlasting love.” She carefully lifted the cloche from the silk flower, tiny fairy lights arranged around the base. She held it out to him, one hand dramatically pressed to her chest. “And now, I’d like to give it to you, Vil, to profess my everlasting love. Would you go out with me?” 
Vil couldn’t help it, it was all too much. The extravagant set, (Y/N) memorizing specific passages from such an old and now obscure film, the entire production. He burst out laughing, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth, eyes closed. “Well,” He said, catching his breath. “After such a wonderful effort, how could I possibly say no? Yes, my dearest (Y/N), I would love nothing more than to be with you.” 
Rook: 
“(Y/N), you’re gonna shoot your eye out.” 
“No, it’ll be fine. You have to take risks for the sake of love.” 
“Oh, Seven, we don’t need two of you.” 
Rook’s ears picked up, hearing Epel and (Y/N) talking in the back gardens of the Pomefiore dorm. Smiling, he crept around to (definitely not) spy on them. (Y/N) was struggling with a large bow, an arrow flopping around as she tried to aim it. Pomfiore had a small target practice area set up in the back of the dorm. (Y/N) was trying, emphasis on trying, to shoot arrows at one of the red and white round targets. After her latest arrow struck the ground in front of the target, Epel sighed and walked to the target, collecting other fallen arrows. He stabbed them into the target in the shape of a heart, a letter with Rook’s name pinned to the bullseye. 
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” Epel said. 
“Oh? And what favor are you performing, Monsieur Pommette?” Both of them jumped, Rook smiling wider at the surprised squeak (Y/N) made. 
“You’re on your own, (Y/N)!” Epel said before rushing off. 
(Y/N) huffed. “Traitor,” She said under her breath. She turned to Rook. “Hi.” 
“Bonjour, Trickster.” 
“You’re, uh, early. I thought you were going to be at your club for a while longer.” 
Rook waved a hand. “There was an unexpected explosion and we had to evacuate. But I am much more interested in what you’re up to here.” 
“Ah, well…” She trailed off, limply pointing to the letter stabbed in the target. She covered her face with her hands, heat rushing to her cheeks as Rook elegantly plucked the letter up and began reading. 
(Y/N) could basically see the hearts forming in his eyes as he finished reading her confession. He dramatically clutched the love letter to his chest, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Oh, mon amour le plus cher! Comme c’est merveilleux de lire vos sentiments les plus caret! Je n’ai jamais vu quelque chose d’aussi beau!” 
“So,” (Y/N) asked nervously. “Is that a yes?” 
“Oui, oui! One thousand times oui!” He cheered as he gathered her in a swinging hug. 
Epel: 
Epel found the first note the day after (Y/N)’s announcement in the cafeteria. Whatever she had wanted to do was apparently pretty important, as she had grabbed Grim and they left immediately. Epel hadn’t seen her the rest of the day, but he would recognize that handwriting on the paper wrapped around his dorm room handle anywhere. 
He looked around to make sure no one was watching before unfolding the paper and reading. ‘Epel, I have something important I need to ask, but before that I have a simple task. Take this first note of the set and go to the place we first met. Love, (Y/N).’ Epel tried not to think too much about that ‘Love’ part. Where did he and (Y/N) first meet? At this point it almost felt like they had known eachother forever. 
Would that be, maybe, the well in the quad? Epel remembered meeting her, Ace, Deuce, and Grim there when he was rehearsing singing, using the well’s acoustics. But, no, they had seen each other somewhere else first. Epel blushed in embarrassment at the memory. He had been crying, frustrated to hell and back with Vil’s lectures right after coming back from winter break. He’d run into them at the Great Seven statues. 
Epel went to the statues, deciding if he didn’t find anything there he would try the well. But, lo and behold, another note was waiting at the base of the Fairest Queen’s statue. He read, ‘Epel, Congrats on finding your second clue! By now you have an idea of what to do. For the next place I want you to go, think of the place we lived side by side before the show. Love, (Y/N).’ 
That one was easy, Ramshackle dorm. As Epel sprinted across campus, both notes held tightly in his fist, he reminisced about spending his days training for the VDC in Ramshackle. Most of the time there seemed like torture, running endless dancing drills, feeling constricted by Vil’s lessons whose purpose he still didn’t fully understand at the time, worrying about the whole dorm falling down around his ears at any moment. But there were plenty of good moments too. (Y/N) making them - Vil approved - breakfast in the morning, her encouragement at each of their rehearsals, how she would slip them treats when Vil and Rook’s backs were turned to help boost their mood. 
Sure enough, Epel found his next note on the Ramshackle front gate. There was another rhyme instructing him to go to another location, also connected to his and (Y/N)’s relationship and past. That lead to another and to another and another, each unlocking a precious memory between the two. Eventually, he unfolded the final note, the sun just starting to set, casting NRC in beautiful golden light. ‘Epel, I hope by now you get to see exactly how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot and I’ve enjoyed every and I’ve enjoyed every second, and… Okay, I can’t come up with any more rhymes. Just turn around!’ 
Lowering the paper, Epel turned, opening his arms just in time to catch (Y/N) in a big hug. They spun around each other for a second with the momentum, finally coming to a stop and looking to each other's eyes. 
“Hi,” (Y/N) said. “Did you like my scavenger hunt?” 
“You’re bad at rhyming,” Epel said with a crooked smile. 
She wacked his shoulder. “Hey, I meant what I wrote, though. I really like you, Epel. Would you go out with me?” 
Epel squeaked her tight. “Only if you promise not to write any more poetry.” 
Idia: 
Idia was holding out in his room, huddled under a blanket, his phone clutched tight in his hand. He was watching a live stream from his favorite idol group, Premo. He smiled as the group answered fan questions, talked about their upcoming tour, and demonstrated how to perform some of their most famous dance moves. 
The viewer chat scrolled across the side of the screen. Donations and chat reactions popped up in various animations across the screen. Idia hit the donate button, sending a flurry of roses blooming along the edges of the screen. He smiled as the idols thanked Gloomurai for his support. 
One of the idols leaned over, checking the chat feed. She gasped, flapping a hand at the others and enthusiastically pointing at what she was reading. They all started smiling and giggling, whispering to each other. Idia shuffled closer, as if that would let him read whatever message they had gotten. 
“Hey, everyone!” One of them said. “We’ve got a super special shout-out! This is from (Username) to… Gloomurai!” 
Idia’s heart raced as he sat up in bed, blanket draped over him. (Username), (Username)... Wait, he recognized that. That was your username! He had helped you set up your account to the MMO he played a while ago. He remembered helping you through the intro stages, stumbling over the tutorials. He had laughed at your frustrated frown as you died on the same boss for the third time. 
“Aww,” The second idol said. “This is sweet. It says, ‘Gloomurai, I thought about telling you this in person, but I wasn’t sure when that would actually be. And sometimes big feelings require big gestures. I like you, I really, really like you. I think I have for a long time. I love your smile, I love your hair, I love your brain, I love that you’re such an amazing big brother. Will you go out with me?’ Well, Gloomurai? Tell us your answer! We’re waiting on pins and needles here!” 
“Oh, wait,” The third idol said. “There’s more. It says, ‘PS, check your door.’” 
Idia yelped as he shot up, the blanket falling to a heap on the floor. Heart thundering in his chest and head starting to go fuzzy. He almost felt like he was in a daze as he walked with trepidation to his door. Slowly opening it, Idia saw a basket placed just in front. It was filled with his favorite snacks, small acrylic standees of characters from his favorite games and anime, and studded with bluebells, irises, and blue asters. A large paper heart was pinned to the front with her and his initials drawn in the middle. Hair flaring pink, he quickly brought the basket back into his room before any of his dorm mates would notice. 
He heard commotion from his phone, Premo and the chat all eagerly awaiting his response. He sent in another donation with a simple, “Yes.” The idols cheered and squealed. 
He swiped out of the livestream, opening his messaging app. (Y/N)’s name popped up with a new message, a cheering emoticon with three blue hearts. 
He subconsciously covered his face as he smiled wide, typing back, “You’re so cringe. Can’t wait for the date.” 
Silver: 
(Y/N) sprinted across campus, heading whipping around to try and catch a familiar shimmer of silver white hair. She skidded to a stop when she saw a black Diasamonia coat draped over a low tree branch, a pair of shined boots sticking out behind the trunk. 
(Y/N) rounded the old oak tree. “Silv-! Oh, sorry.” 
Silver was reclining against the tree, hands folded across his stomach, chest rising and falling with deep even breaths, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he slept. A few songbirds and a pair of squirrels congregated around him, looking up with big eyes at the newcomer. 
(Y/N) shifted her weight from foot to foot before screwing up her courage and sitting down next to Silver. She shuffled down so she laid next to him, still leaving enough room to not cause too much of a scandal if anyone walked by. She settled down, closing her eyes and relaxing, taking in the sounds of the woodland animals around them, the talking of other students in the distance, the wind whispering through the trees. 
A short while later, she heard stirring next to her. (Y/N) blinked awake quickly, propping herself up and leaning back on her hands as Silver woke up beside her. 
“Hi,” She said. “Would  you want to go out with me?” 
Silver blinked the sleep out of his eyes, looking up at her. “I must still be dreaming,” He muttered. “If I am, then…” He reached forward, cupping the back of her head and pulling her down. She gasped as their lips brushed. Silver’s eyes suddenly shot open and he jerked back from her as if burned. “I- uh-” He studded, pale skin turning a ruby red. 
(Y/N) giggled at his embarrassment. “Well, I guess that’s a yes, right?” 
Sebek: 
“Be right back!” (Y/N) said as she suddenly stood from the first year cafeteria table. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, she was off like a shot. 
“Any idea what that was about?” Epel asked. The others shrugged. 
Grim reached over to snag half (Y/N)’s sandwich from her discarded tray. “Probably going to go ask out that boy she keeps talking about,” He said nonchalantly, mouth full. 
Sebek choked, standing fast and slamming his hands on the table so all their plates and cutlery clattered. “What!” 
“Chill, man,” Ace said, waving him down as people across the cafeteria turned to stare. Ace smirked. “Unless you’re particularly invested in (Y/N)’s love life?” 
Sebek blushed and slammed back into his seat. He picked his knife and fork back up and started sawing at his Salisbury steak. “No,” He snapped. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. What do I care?” 
“Sure,” Epel said. 
(Y/N) reappeared in the cafeteria a short while later, Malleus in tow. She was talking with him, gesturing with her hands. Malleus had a wide, amused smile, nodding along. 
Sebek stood again, at attention for his prince. “Good afternoon, Lord Malleus!” He said. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?” He scowled at the other first years rolling their eyes at his formality. 
“Hello, Sebek. I’ve come to give my blessing.” 
“Blessing?” 
“Sebek!” (Y/N) said brightly. She took both his hands in hers as he sputtered and blushed. “I really like you. Would you go out with me?” 
For once, Sebek was speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. (Y/N) squeezed his hands tighter as Malleus chuckled next to them. “Well, Sebek? It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting.” 
Life seized back into the knight. He tightened his grasp on (Y/N), pulling her closer. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean, ahem, I accept your offer of courting, since you went so far to get my lord’s blessing, after all.” 
Lilia: 
Lilia wouldn’t call what he was doing skulking, exactly. More like surprise chaperoning, keeping an eye on the youngsters of Night Raven College like a good upperclassman should. And, if he just so happened to pop out and scare the living daylights out of whatever unfortunate student happened to be nearby, well, more fun for him. 
So it wasn’t especially surprising when he heard Silver and (Y/N) talking to each other in the courtyard. As a sly smile stretched across his face, he floated to a hiding place in the shadows of the flying buttresses, resting on his stomach to kick his feet, chin resting in his hands, as he observed the two. 
“You want my permission?” Silver asked, an amused smile on his face. 
“Of course!” (Y/N) replied. “I wouldn’t want to make it weird by dating him while we’re all still students together.” 
Lilia faltered. That was the problem with spying, sometimes you heard things you didn’t want to. So the Prefect was romantically interested in someone, eh? And if they were asking Silver for permission, it must be someone close to him. Sebek, maybe? Or, oh dear, Malleus? Lilia knew for a fact that both of the boys thought of (Y/N) as a close and dear friend and nothing more. His heart panged in sympathy at the idea of rejection. And, if he was being honest with himself, it panged with something else as well. 
“You don’t think he’s a little old for you?” Silver asked teasingly. 
“Maybe I like a silver fox,” (Y/N) teased right back. 
Silver laughed. “I don’t think I ever want to hear my father described as a silver fox ever again.” 
Lilia lost his concentration, falling with a yelp against one of the chandeliers hanging in the hallway. 
“Lilia?” (Y/N) asked with a gasp. 
Lilia smiled, trying to regain poise as he floated down to them. “Looks like I’m not as slick as I used to be. Now, what were you two discussing just now?” 
(Y/N) look startled. Silver gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and left with a wave. Just the two of them now, (Y/N) took a deep breath, building up her courage. 
“Lilia!” She said, probably a little too loudly with nerves. “I really like you! Would you go out with me?” 
Lilia chuckled, leaning close to enjoy the shy and flustered look on her face. “Well, if you have my son’s blessing, how am I to refuse? Besides, I think I rather like being called a, what was it you said? A silver fox?” 
Malleus: 
Malleus looked up from his book, looking around his room for the source of the noise that disturbed his studying. There, another sharp ‘ping’ from across the room. He looked to the window, noticing a small pebble hitting the glass. He walked over and opened the window, dodging just in time to miss another pebble. 
“Oops! Sorry, Horton!” He looked down, a smile automatically crossing his face at (Y/N)’s voice. But his expression quickly changed to puzzlement as he looked down at her. (Y/N) was standing in the courtyard of the Diasomonia dorm, inside a giant heart made of dozens of tiny tea candles. 
In a swirl of green light, Malleus appeared next to her on the ground floor. She jumped a little bit at his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered herself and beamed up at him. He felt his heart flip in that pleasant way it always did when he was near her. 
“What’s all this?” 
She cleared her throat dramatically, dropping to one knee. “Dearest Horton, you have bewitched me body and soul. I would like to officially court you. Would you do me the absolute pleasure of accompanying me on a date this weekend?” 
Malleus blinked down at her for a moment, basking in the admiration and adoration filling her eyes. He laughed, reaching down to take her hand and pull her to standing. “My, how formal,” He said. 
She smiled, shrugging. “I wanted it to be memorable. Couldn’t manage the fireworks, though. Sorry.” 
“I can rectify that.” With an elegant sweep of his hand, sparks erupted from Malleus’s fingertips, shooting into the dark sky around the dorm to explode in fantastic colors. Students from in the dorm leaned out windows to admire the impromptu show. 
Malleus drew (Y/N) closer to him, admiring the multicolor flashes playing across her face. “I would adore being anywhere with you.”
284 notes · View notes
ladythornofrivia · 2 days ago
Text
Mr. Targaryen Will See You Now || (PT. 2)
Modern!Aemond x Reader (four parts)
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warnings: (for the future chapters): sex, oral sex, loss of virginity, squirting, stalking, obsession, manipulation, reader being clueless, but not totally innocent, blackmail, p in v sex, blood kink, knife kink, gun kink, handcuff kink, bdsm, masturbation, fingering, cum play, tease, mommy issues.
a/n: now you’ve all been waiting for! Part 2! this time, the reader will be as his soon-to-be secretary. i went to the studio for a photoshoot. i won’t say why, but i’ll be announcing it around next year. stay tune for part 3.
You were thinking about him.
His offer.
It was the night where the decision made you toss and turn into your bed. A one chance in a lifetime, something that will change your life and status for good. Getting a steady job meant a steady source of income and societal actions in the higher system that Aemond Targaryen is in. Meaning challengers. Rules and expectations are higher, something that you’re not easy to strive to change pace or comfort zone. It wasn’t your ideal.
The source of all things common and strivers, you weren’t exactly the type to flip the switch on exact moment. A steady job in a steady life is enough. But what Aemond’s offered you says it all.
Risky.
Practical.
Stability.
Peace for bank account.
A high life devoid of privacy and self-recollection. A highly paced environment will not stop their time for you. You’re a slow turtle.
Your friend teased about how Aemond went stuck in your head. It wasn’t fair, at all. It wasn’t like Aemond ambushed you to say yes, but told you to contemplate of his proposal. How his gleaming violet hues pierced into your soul, begging and demanding all at once. The duality was simple enough for you to understand what kind of man he is.
A perfectionist.
Fumbling your mechanical pencil over and over as you studied the notes on your papers, stack after stack, followed by several energy drinks and stained coffee cups all over a once tidy desk. Horrifying as it sounds, you wished for a proper solution for a distraction to settle down permanently. Your friend hasn’t teased you for days, thank god for that, but you needed a second opinion.
But you didn’t want to call your parents because you chose to sever ties with them, not that anyone needs to know the detail, so you tried improvising a solution other than your friend or anyone else you know. You searched on Google, typing:
“How to make a right decision when some hot guy offered you a high-salary job?”, “How to relax after getting offered a job by a hot CEO?” “How to relax and forget for today after days of thinking about the CEO’s offer?”, “How to sleep properly after trying to distract yourself for days after the amount of torturous hours of endless teasing from a friend and a flashback?”
So far no answer came, just the ones where people often complain on the blog on how bosses are viciously toxic, others posted recordings of the bosses that eventually got fired, both boss and ex-worker. Some co-workers fucked the CEO all the way to the top, and others disposed others by any means necessary in a way of safety net.
Your head was reeling with ache and burn, as if someone crushed your skull and penetrated to a point where the pulse tightened, ready to implode. Spine landed back of your office chair, your head thrown back, mouth parted open and tired eyes closed, needing cold air. The break you took was finding your usual posture slouching and limping, as if you were floating in water. Your arms and back were shivering, and it felt good.
You hated wearing a damn big sweater. You thrashed, screamed for a short second, arms stretched and flung, hair tossed and turned, scrunchie loosened up. Then you were still, back to a limp form on a chair, not sitting like a proper lady with legs spread.
Staring at the white ceiling, you grumbled, “I can’t take this anymore.”
Maybe I should relax for now…too much caffeinated drinks doesn’t serve me enough purpose to stay focus on my final exams. Maybe a hottest shower would do the trick and forget my exams for now. And for tomorrow. Get a massage, and be naked for the night.
Thus, you stood up and left.
The phone rang.
Inwardly groaning, you read the number on your screen.
Unknown.
Eh, I’ll call in for the night.
Clicked your phone to silence, and hopped in naked into the shower. Or a bath that will make you fall asleep naked until the morning.
~~~
The phone rang three days later.
You fell asleep, not being as productive, laziness can be good once in a while.
But who the hell would try to call you first thing in the morning without a fresh cup of matcha latte as a today’s starter?
Yawning and stretching your limbs, cracking your spine, you did the best of your ability to be awake in the system. Relaxing and—
Shit.
I have 30 missed calls!!!!!
Who the hell keeps calling me?
It freaked you out, so you blocked the unknown caller.
A small sense of relief escaped from your parched lips. Drank a bottle of cold water to unwind the coils on your belly and went for a warm shower.
Days after break, you returned to your studies—after a long process of washing and scrubbing the mugs, thrown trashes of empty cans by the kitchen, and wiped surfaces on your desk. As a slow perfectionist, like art, it takes perfection. Not a crease or stain to see in plain sight. For the whole morning, with amount of lavender spray in the bedroom and replacement of new bedsheets from your sweat stain, and carpet vacuumed, everything must feel light and right. According to the website, changing bedsheets for every week. Not two weeks or three. Bacteria infested god knows what, you hated the idea of being sick. Even when sick, you still clean, but your friend insisted she’ll do the chores done in an instant, but you knew that your friend is efficient in her job, but she’s no expert with chores.
Lavender scent carried off on a cold air, you slumped back on the desk, starting over with a writing assignment from one class, chugging on a matcha latte, your phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
Again.
This time, you answered.
What could possibly go wrong?
Miss (Y/N).
“Hello,” you said, pausing. “Who’s this?”
“Have you thought about my offer?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand—you must have the wrong number.”
“You are wasting the benefit of my time and success, Miss (Y/N).”
Your spit choked back. “Sir—Mr. Targaryen. Yes, hello! How may I assist you?”
“Have you come to an important decision?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m still studying for my exams. I haven’t been able to sleep properly for days. I…” you paused again, treading the words wisely. “This is something I can’t miss. I have to graduate.”
You heard him sigh.
“There are no excuses, Miss (Y/N). It’s now or never.”
This time, you sighed, foot tapping in an uneven beat, boisterous and clumsy.
“I’ll give you another day to reconsider. But if you don’t answer my call, I’ll pass this offer to someone who will be more sufficient and quick in my service than you’ll ever be. I don’t think you’ll have what it takes to be in my company.”
Your heart leapt.
You bent forward, suspense caving in. “Ah, no, that’s not what I meant, sir—”
“I don’t think so. Not with your late response. I like my staff members to be as punctual, strictly on time. I could only excuse this once to those who are abnormally late. Anyone who shows up with punctuality meant they’ve got what it takes to be more potential regarding to future promotions.”
“I—First of all, how did you get this number?”
“We’ll meet again tonight around 9. Don’t silence your phone.”
And hang up without a second thought.
“What a fucking jackass,” you stated, and with anger rising, you took out on the scrubbing and dusting off furniture.
~~~
Hours later, you anticipated for the phone call, since you’ve done all the studying and cleaning without a hassle on being cranky—not a person disrupted you since your friend went out the whole day to god knows what she’s doing. Results concluded that a proper, lazy rest for three days has been helpful to late cranky hours.
Plopping on a couch with blank television staring back at your tired posture, you weren’t in the mood to watch romance or comedy, especially those characters who are acting like jerks at the first part. Maybe as a kid, you hated bad boys, when as a teen, you loved—you’re a die hard fan of bad boys, thanks to young adult romance novels. But as a grown woman, you’re unsure, but it’s clear-cut that you hated men who carried themselves in their attitude like a dumb child that’s required to be babied.
One man-child after another. It makes you think you wanted a flamethrower to burn, and eating boxes of truffles and a Starbucks drink, watching a whole building collapse to ashes.
The back of your head thumped onto the couch pillows, counting one to ten, more like counting sheep, but you knew it was a bad idea, so you ate heavy chunks of strawberry ice cream on a white ceramic bowl, thinking whether you should do a pros and cons list.
Shit, I made a total embarrassment of myself to a hot young CEO. Even when he did tell me to reconsider his proposal, there’s no way in hell he’ll promote me. Not with the plans I have, not with my delays. He’ll shoved it down on my throat by making me watch another lady settling a high score at the office, and him smirking at my direction. I had a feeling he wants me to be part of his company, it’s weird how he’s the first person—the first CEO—to beg for my existence and be part of a rescue team on his prestigious company. Almost like he’s been ready his whole life. No other CEO would do this; every CEO would think of middle class people as nobodies or a pile of trash. How did he get my number? I wish I know.
Wait, did I just say “hot”?
The phone rang, in a familiar tune.
Nearly tossing the bowl behind you, you settled on the coffee table and picked up the call.
“Miss (Y/N)?”
“Sir.”
“Have you come to make a decision?”
Good money, good pay, and peace for the bank account.
“I have.”
“Well?”
“What time should I be there for work?”
“8 AM. You’ll begin working here around 9.”
“Done.”
“I knew you’ll give in. Eventually.”
“Huh, persistent much?”
“Persistence is a good quality in a man.”
“Right.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night’s rest.”
“Good night.”
You hang up and screamed into the nearest pillow you find.
~~~
Months later….
It’s been forever since you were welcome into the company by the CEO himself. Long story short, you got accepted, without a process of long interview and long wait for phone calls for a confirmation. Easy does it. New office, drinking cups of coffee by the fancy coffee machine and water dispenser and a fridge with ingredients and proper food—not a TV dinner. Most are healthy quality.
But it came with a cost.
You were now under training and supervision of your new boss, who won’t stop staring at you. Clearly he was still fuming of the last interactions he attempted through your phone, labeled as Unknown.
You understood why it was an unknown number. Privacy is a top priority for someone who is known in a local news article online and on social media. Most pictures on social media were focused on the other side of his family, the only time Aemond’s shown in the pictures was blurry.
The usual routine has routine, but one remained the same. You always tied your hair to an updo with a scrunchie.
Stacking and organizing the files and binders by name and number in order, after dusting off of his shelf and toss the useless files on a shredder machine. Whirring on the machine has gotten louder, but didn’t ease your anxiety from his ever watchful eyes. His nose somewhat flaring, and his hands kept opening and closing, attempting to stay tranquil by touching the fabric on his pants, sometimes the items on his large desk.
Aemond kept staring at you for as long as he could and you found yourself at a most vulnerable position. Everything was a mess, but thankfully all of his files are on his computer, including your laptop and Bluetooth headset and ergonomic pens, solely provided by the company, as you play fetch with the CEO, playing his do’s and don’t’s.
Day by day, each time you clocked into work mode, Aemond’s presence drew near. As if he was critiquing you through gaze.
“Why is Aemond staring at you? Have you done something to piss him off?” your co-worker asked.
“I had no clue. Is he always like this?”
“His face usually scowls to everyone, but he’s staring at you without blinking. Kinda freaks me out. Gives me the hibbie-jibbies.”
“Yeah, no shit,” you said in silence, knowing he has sharp ears he might fire you on the spot.
“Like he could hear us.”
“Shh! Would you keep it down!?”
“Anyway, I have to go. Oh, and, Mr. Targaryen wants to see you.”
The thing was, he always wanted to see you.
The past conversation went away as you tried to focus on the present.
Turning back again, and gathered the files Aemond needed for the next appointment. He didn’t need to go at the meeting. If he simply wanted to go, he would, but everything is convenient with advanced technology, online meetings have been a thing for today’s world. If he does want to show up at a mundane event, he would’ve done in a flash, and all eyes would be on him.
“Here are the papers that you requested, sir,” you uttered, low lashes fluttered towards him, hoping to release you from his sky-high office.
“This should be easy to handle with the indulgences of the client I’m working with. Awful man needs to be settled immediately.”
He flicked his wrist.
The screen on his computer brightened with an annoying tune. And deep, distorted voice on the other side of the screen.
You could only offer a short nod, not knowing what he meant. So you bowed and exited.
Finally free.
Without the dark hours, you were the only one left, aside from a janitor and couple security guards roaming the building to dismiss anyone who’s still resided at the office. The office hours are usually closed at 7:30 PM. But for this month, the boss’s notified the staff that they’re off around 5 PM. Aemond’s had been testing the work hours, based on New Zealand with a total of 6 hours of work instead of a regular 9-5. But not for the CEO.
There’s no rest for the wicked.
Finally, at the coffee lounge and a cafeteria, the last member of the cooking staff gave you two packs of cherry cheese danish and an empty cup for a caramelized coffee by the coffee machine standing nearby. You haven’t ate since the moment you stepped in at work. You were in the rush. Stomach twisted in pain now loosened from a good chunk of appetite stuffed into the mouth.
Sat by the ceramic bench, you hummed in delight, feeling like a warm hug, with a touch of caramelized coffee with cream powder. You haven’t had a good break since you were stuck in the room with him. A good coffee weighs the heaviness on your shoulders.
Suffocating.
With that, you emptied the food in your stomach and threw the cup and brown packets in the trash bin, and leaving the tray on top, striding forward to head back and grab your belongings and call it for tonight.
With a quiet office, all surrounded by sturdy walls and soundproof glass, you managed to relax, determined to go home.
The door shut in.
You turned and spotted Aemond locking the door.
“Sir,” you uttered, in question.
Without warning, he pinned you down on desk with a knife close to your face, the pointed end nearly touching your eye.
You screamed, but silenced you with a kiss.
Your first kiss.
“Don’t say a word,” he snarled.
And with the knife he held against your face, his hot breath tickled your face.
“You wouldn’t want to say a word to anyone, would you?”
Frightened, you shook your head. Laying still as if you’re trying to please him in a way to leave you alone.
He hadn’t inched away; knife on his hand slithered its tip across your skin, leaving your staggered, breath held captive, watching his blank and unsteady focus drinking it all in. The knife pinched your skin; Aemond slashed the black stockings in one swoop. Then, his knife went his way inside the ripped skirt he torn off, your pink thongs displayed before him.
You wanted to kick him, but he made sure to keep you still.
Rip!
The panties torn apart cleanly, your wet cunt displayed. It was a nightmare. Blush fell onto your cheeks as you watched him knelt down, still pinning you down, he licked your parted folds, lapped his warm tongue in three deep strokes.
By then, your cunt squirted shortly.
And he found it amusing.
“Be a good secretary,” he said, and plunged the hilt of the knife inside you.
Your moans escaped but Aemond kissed your lips, you could taste yourself in his lips, still in shock and denial that your lips could barely move.
Terror flooded within you; his hand bloodied as he inserted the knife’s hilt inside, urging your desperate, clinging cunt, growing warmer, tighter, coiled to a tight flex, oozing and flowing. You never had proper sex.
The knife has taken your virginity.
“Stop~” you uttered breath ragged breaths, nearly bucking your hips, cunt yearning.
Aemond denied, attempted to go faster, and the dark hilt of the knife pinched your walls right. The flush of hot squirt splashed on his uniform, even yours. Humiliating as it was, at least you’re somewhat thankful that it wasn’t his cock.
How long has he wanted this?
“Sir, please stop—”
“I will stop when I wanted to stop, Miss (Y/N). You’re going to love this. Whether you like it or not.” He unzipped his pants with one hand while his other pinned your hands above your head and stroke himself in front of your exhausted state. You couldn’t object anymore. His climax is about to reach, and his hot cum exploded, splashing everywhere on your skin. Even your face. His ragged breath overtook the silence, and left you defenseless. Letting your wrists go.
Everything was hot inside your private office.
“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes closed.
It felt right for him.
Seeing you all bruised and bloodied up. The hilt of the knife he held on his bloody hand—from the gripping the sharp end—it was a mix of your cum and blood, from tightening its grip.
Then he zipped his pants up, and left you cold on the table, saying, “Make sure no one sees you, Miss (Y/N). And if you mention this to anyone, I’ll kill you.”
His hand yanked the scrunchie out of your hair, some hair stands plucked, leaving your lips a soft yelp.
Then the door slammed shut.
Hollow. And emptiness.
Only your cries filled the stained and wrecked office, wondering how it went wrong, wondering how you can still breathe. The scars on your thigh wasn’t deep, but needs medicine and a clean shower, and a long rest. From there, you contemplate without hesitation. Your heart ached from shock and distress, a feeling where you wanted to throw up all the good food you ate earlier, but it was no use.
Perhaps you made a mistake on taking his offer.
~~~
As for Aemond, it was the first part of his plan. The red bruises on your wrist and absolution on your skin, laced in dark and wet crimson, from a torn underwear and stockings, the rush stirred in his veins and heart. And thus, more games he plans to pursue, seeing if you could withstand and beyond.
Somewhere in his head, the voice came in again. He wanted it to go away. The blood on his hand went cold, stinging from gripping the blade so tightly when he forced the hilt inside her warmth.
In the midst of stopping, he snapped his neck. In anger, he didn’t want to hear that voice again.
It’s about damn time he found a new toy to play with.
With a scrunchie he confiscated from you, yanked it away, as he went to the nearest elevator, reaching to his office, rushing to his chair to undo his pants once more and wrapped your scrunchy in several movements, until he became undone with his pleasure. He didn’t care of his staff coming in. But nobody entered. The staff went home and no one could hear Aemond’s throaty pleasure emanating.
The fainted smell of flowers on the scrunchy and his cum and blood from his injured right hand intertwined, as he sniffed it.
Divine and innocence.
Just the way he liked it.
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drewizz · 17 hours ago
Text
THIRD TIME - 08. blunder
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pairing ꕀ rafe cameron x reader
WARNINGS: smut (piv unprotected [wrap it before you tap it], slight thigh riding + cunnilingus) & toxic relationship (platonic?)
WORD COUNT: 5.4K
TAGLIST: open! comment or send in an ask
series masterlist. previous
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blunder. (noun) a stupid or careless mistake
Rafe Cameron does not apologize.
He was currently on the brink of insanity, and he blamed it on you. Sleep had been non-existent; his mind wouldn’t shut off, replaying every word and glance you gave him. Yet here he was, at your front door mustering courage to spit out two simple words to you.
“I’m sorry.”
Nevermind that, at least he was here with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. He hated how vulnerable he felt, hated that he was even here. (But for desperate measures, he needed to be here.) 
He raised his hand to knock on the door, hesitated, and then let it fall. What was he even supposed to say?
Hey, I’m sorry for being a complete asshole, but I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m not even sure what the next step is between us. What are we? Do you like me?
Before he could overthink himself into leaving, the door creaked open. Relief mixed with dread until his stomach dropped.
You weren’t the one opening the door.
It was Topper Thornton.
“Top? What the fuck are you doing here?” Rafe blurted before he could stop himself.
Topper looked just as surprised, but his expression quickly morphed into a knowing smirk. “Oh, well speak of the devil. I could ask you the same thing.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He tried to piece together why the hell Topper would be at your house—early in the morning, no less. His stomach churned with suspicion, his temper already flickering to life.
“Where’s Y/N?” Rafe asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
Topper leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “She’s inside. Why?”
Rafe’s jaw clenched. He pushed past Topper without waiting for an invitation, his gaze darting around the small entryway.
“Y/N!” he called, his tone clipped.
“What the hell, man?” Topper said, stepping in front of him. “You can’t just barge into her house.”
“So you’re just allowed to be in here?” Rafe snapped as he could feel his anger level again.
“I’m actually a good friend of Y/N,” Topper said, his tone mocking.
The sound of footsteps caught Rafe’s attention, and he turned to see you stepping out of the kitchen, your face a mix of confusion and annoyance.
“Rafe?” you said, voice laced with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you,” he said, his gaze flicking to Topper before settling back on you. “But I guess you’re already busy.”
You frowned, your brows knitting together. “What are you talking about?”
Rafe gestured to Topper, his movements sharp. “Him. Why the fuck is he here?”
“Seriously?” You said, crossing your arms. “He stopped by to drop something off, and now he’s leaving. Why are you even here?”
“I asked why he’s here, didn’t I?” Rafe repeated, his voice rising (and ignoring your question). “You think it’s normal for him to just show up at your house like this?”
“Rafe, you need to calm down,” you said, your tone firm. “I told you, he’s only here to drop something off from a while ago – I haven’t seen him for probably over a year.”
“I’m calm,” he snapped, though his clenched fists and rigid posture said otherwise. “And whatever. I don’t care why he’s here.”
Topper snorted, and Rafe’s head whipped toward him.
“You’ve got some nerve,” Rafe said, stepping closer to Topper. “Just because you came here to drop some shit off doesn’t mean –”
“Doesn’t particularly mean what?” Topper interrupted, his smirk widening. “Unlike you, I actually know how to treat people right, or so I’ve heard.”
Rafe’s vision blurred with anger, his hands flexing at his sides. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think I do,” Topper said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Topper, stop it,” you said while stepping between them.
Rafe’s gaze snapped to you, his expression softening for just a moment before hardening again. “Is this what you do now?” he asked, his voice low and accusatory. “You let him into your house, you hang out with him –
“Are you serious right now?” you interrupted, noting how your voice was rising. “You don’t get to come here and act like this. Especially not after the shit you said last night.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “I don’t trust him,” he said, his tone defensive.
“This isn’t about Topper,” you said with evident frustration. “This is about you and the fact that you can’t seem to figure out what exactly you want.”
“I know what I want,” Rafe said, his voice quieter but no less intense.
“Do you?” you shot back, with eyes narrowing. “Because last night you made it pretty damn clear that you didn’t.”
Topper cleared his throat, his presence suddenly feeling intrusive. “You know what? I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is.”
He gave you a mock salute before brushing past Rafe and out the door.
As the door clicked shut behind him, the tension in the room became almost unbearable.
You turned to Rafe, your expression a mix of anger and hurt. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” Rafe said, his voice rising. “I’m not the one letting him hang around like he owns the place.”
“He’s just someone I know, Rafe,” you said, your voice cracking. “He needed to give me back something from almost a year ago. I don’t even consider him as an entirely good friend of mine, anyway.”
“Well I don’t think you’re fucking him,” Rafe said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “And I’m also not trying to control you or shit like that.”
“Yes, you are,” you said, your frustration boiling over. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either. Do you even hear yourself?”
Rafe opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. His hands flexed at his sides, his frustration palpable.
“You can’t have it both ways, Rafe,” you said in a voice much softer now, though no less pained. “You can’t keep pushing me away and then get mad when I try to move on.”
“I’m not trying to push you away,” Rafe said, his voice coming out much harsher than he wanted it to.
“Then what are you doing?” you asked, your eyes searching his.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice softening. “I don’t know how to do this. This thing… between us.”
Your expression softened, but only slightly. “You need to figure it out, Rafe. Because I can’t keep doing this.”
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension.
Finally, Rafe took a step back, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Go to the beach with me.”
You looked at him with disbelief written all over your face. “Is that seriously what you’re going to say to me? After all of that?”
“Well I didn’t know that he would be here,” he muttered. “And I was originally going to apologize to you.”
His jaw worked overtime, clenching and unclenching, before he finally groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "Alright," he muttered, not quite meeting your eyes. "I was – whatever. I was out of line earlier, including last night. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve it. Happy now?"
You raised an eyebrow, leaning casually against the counter with a barely concealed smirk. "That’s your idea of an apology?"
His head snapped up, his glare half-hearted. "What do you want, a parade?"
"A little sincerity wouldn’t kill you," you shot back, crossing your arms as your smirk widened.
Rafe groaned again, the sound low and frustrated. "Fine," he bit out, stepping closer. His voice softened, though the vulnerability seemed to physically pain him. "I shouldn’t have acted like that. Okay? I’m sorry."
You tilted your head, feigning deep thought. "Well that sounded half-assed, no?"
“Fine. I’m incredibly sorry I was acting like a complete asshole to you, and you don’t deserve it.”
“Did you say that to just shut me up or to actually apologize?”
"Both," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. “Now go to the beach with me.”
“Fine. But only because I have no plans for the rest of the day.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
The short ride to the beach was quite peaceful. There weren’t any words exchanged between you two, as Rafe’s eyes were focused on the road and yours settled on the scenery passing outside the window.
“You’re oddly quiet.” 
You rolled your eyes as you wiped your sweaty palms on your legs. (You weren’t even sure why your palms were sweaty in the first place.) “There’s just nothing to talk about.”
In return, all you got was a quiet hum of acknowledgment from him.
As he drove, the tension between you softened into something more tolerable. Rafe tapped the steering wheel, glancing at you occasionally like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. The road stretched ahead of you two, winding toward the coast where the scent of salt and sea promised a reprieve from your usual turmoil.
“And we’re here, princess.”
The sun was still high in the sky when he parked the car near the sand, the salty breeze rolling in as you opened the door. Something about stepping out onto the warm sand with Rafe beside you felt surreal.
“This feels normal,” you said, grabbing your bag from the backseat. “Oddly.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow as he shut his door. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Not bad,” you replied, walking next to him. “Just unexpected. First you come and argue with Topper. Then, you’re apologizing and asking me to go to the beach with you. Now here we are.”
“I’m certainly exceptional at surprises.”
His smirk was enough to make you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.
You made your way down the sandy path, weaving between families with umbrellas and couples sprawled out on towels. The ocean stretched endlessly before you two, the waves crashing in a rhythm that was both calming and wild.
You dropped your bag near a quieter spot and slipped off your sandals. The sand was warm beneath your feet, the kind of heat that made you want to run straight into the cool water.
“Race you,” Rafe said suddenly, already tugging off his shirt. 
You blinked at him whilst shamelessly staring at his topless form. “What?”
“Come on, Y/N.” He was already taking off toward the water, his laugh carried by the wind.
“Cheater!” you shouted, chasing after him.
By the time you reached the shoreline, he was already waist-deep in the water, grinning like he’d just won a gold medal.
“You’re the worst,” you panted, stepping into the surf.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, splashing you playfully.
The cold water hit your body, and you gasped. “Rafe!”
“What? Thought you needed to cool off.”
You didn’t hesitate, scooping up water with your hands and throwing it at him. The splash hit his chest, and he feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his heart.
“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, advancing toward you.
“No, wait–”
But it was too late. He scooped you up in one swift motion, carrying you further into the water.
“Rafe! Put me down!” you shrieked, laughing despite yourself.
“As you wish,” he said, and before you could protest, he dropped you into the waves.
The water enveloped you, cool and refreshing against the heat of the day. You surfaced quickly, sputtering and wiping your face, only to see Rafe doubled over in laughter.
“You’re dead,” you said, lunging at him.
The two of you spent the next several minutes splashing and dunking each other, laughter blending with the sound of the waves. It was chaotic and silly, the kind of unguarded fun you didn’t realize that you needed for a long time.
At some point, both of you stopped, panting and standing waist-deep in the water. Rafe ran a hand through his wet hair, the sun catching on the droplets clinging to his skin.
“You’re surprisingly good at this,” he said, nodding toward you.
“Good at what?”
“Keeping up with me.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing at his shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
Wading back toward the shore, the sun was drying both of your soaked skins, as you two found your spots on the sand. Rafe pulled a towel from your bag and tossed it at you.
“Thanks,” you said, wrapping it around your shoulders. 
Sitting in silence for a moment, watching the waves crash and retreat, you smiled to yourself. You liked this. The peace. Having comfort by you. Him.
“This is nice,” you said softly.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice unusually quiet. “But I still wanna know why Top was at your house.”
“Topper’s just someone I know. We have history, not like that but – he’s someone I know. He’s not even considered a close friend of mine.”
“So he was just at your house? When you two aren’t even close friends?”
You felt your own eyes warily turn to Rafe, letting out a sigh. “Rafe, I already told you. He needed to drop something off that I forgot I even had, after an entire year. That’s all.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Another cue of serenity passed between you two.
After a few long minutes, you glanced at him, surprised to find him looking at you. There was something unreadable in his expression, something you couldn’t quite place.
“What?” you asked, suddenly getting self-conscious.
“Nothing.” He looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just never seen you so happy.”
You smiled faintly, staring out at the horizon. “I guess I am.”
For a while, both of you just sat there, the sun beginning its descent and casting a golden glow over the beach. It was peaceful in a way that felt fragile, like it could break at any moment.
“You like ice cream?” Rafe asked suddenly, breaking the silence. “There’s a nice ice cream shop around here we can head to, before head back.”
“Depends on the flavor,” you replied, standing and brushing the sand off your legs. “But an ice cream sounds perfect for right now.”
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After the (unfortunately) short moment at the beach – Rafe rolled his truck to a stop in front of the small ice cream shop. He never took girls out for ice cream, much less to hang out with in the public (that was apart from fucking). And here he was today, apologizing to you. Taking you to the beach. Driving you to buy ice cream. So many things he’s never done over the past years, but all done in a single day – just for you.
The faint hum of conversation and laughter spilled out as you both stepped inside the shop, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the cozy atmosphere.
Rafe made a beeline for the counter. “Two small salted caramels, please,” he told the cashier without hesitation.
“Hold on,” you interrupted, pulling his arm back. “You don’t get to decide my order. And really, salted caramel?”
He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Oh, and here I thought we would have the same favorite ice cream flavor in mind, too. If salted caramels that terrible of a flavor, what’re you going to get?”
You stepped closer to the menu (miserably failing to stop the smile creeping onto your face), scanning the options with mock seriousness. “Something simple. Like vanilla.”
“You’re impossible,” Rafe said, shaking his head but grinning nonetheless. 
Finally ordering (after a small bicker), the two of you headed back outside, finding a quiet bench under a streetlamp.
You took a slow lick of your cone, savoring the sweetness, while Rafe leaned back, his legs stretched out and his cone melting slightly in his hand.
“Vanilla? Really?” he teased.
“Some of us appreciate the classics,” you shot back, holding your cone up in mock defense. “And really, salted caramel?”
He gestured toward his cone, feigning offense. “Hey! It’s the perfect combination. Salty and sweet, not to forget how it’s a little unexpected of flavors… like me.”
You rolled your eyes with a grin etching your face. “If by ‘unexpected’ you mean ‘annoying,’ then sure.”
Rafe chuckled, and for a moment, the banter was light and easy, the earlier tension melting like the ice cream in both of your hands.
But then his gaze lingered, catching on a streak of ice cream at the corner of your mouth.
“You’ve got…” He gestured vaguely at your face.
You frowned, swiping at your lip with your hand. “Here?”
“No.” He leaned closer, the amusement fading into something heavier. “Let me.”
Before you could protest, his thumb brushed against your lip, his touch warm and deliberate. The motion was slow, almost agonizing, and you froze, your breath catching.
Then he did it. He brought his thumb to his mouth, licking off the ice cream with a small, deliberate flick of his tongue. “Hm. Tastes sweet.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “That was unnecessary.”
“Was it?” Rafe’s voice was low, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was downright dangerous.
You tried to form a coherent response, but your mind felt like a jumbled mess of emotions.  Rafe leaned back, clearly pleased with your reaction.
“You’re such a jerk,” you muttered, but your voice lacked any real bite.
“Yeah, but I’m the jerk you agreed to come to the beach with,” he replied, his smirk widening.
You groaned, focusing on your cone and refusing to look at him, afraid of what he might see written all over your face.
Both of you sat there in peace for a while longer, the quiet night wrapping around. 
“You know,” Rafe started off. “I just noticed your parents are never home. You don’t live with them?”
Touchy subject. But you didn’t want to talk about it right now, not while everything was going well. It would ruin the mood. So instead, you just shrugged. “I don’t really talk to them anymore. It’s been awhile, so yeah. I just live alone.”
Rafe glanced over, promptly nodding without asking any further questions.
The stillness stretched over you two, once again, before you sighed. “We should get home now, it’s getting dark. Drive me back home, please?”
“Anything for you.”
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The drive back to your house was quiet, the air between both of you charged with a tension that seemed to grow heavier with every passing mile. When Rafe finally pulled into your driveway, you hesitated before getting out, glancing at him.
“Today was really nice,” you said softly.
“Yeah,” he replied, his voice just as quiet. “It was.”
Inside, the house was dimly lit, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound as you set your bag down and went to get you two some water. When you turned back, Rafe was standing closer than you expected, his expression unreadable.
“You okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, but his eyes betrayed him, filled with something you couldn’t quite place.
“You’re staring,” you said, trying to inject some levity into the moment. This was exactly the feeling you felt the last time he was inside your house. In the kitchen. Standing less than 1 foot away from you.
“Maybe I can’t help it,” he replied, his voice low and rough.
Your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if pulled by some invisible force, your lips met.
The kiss was hesitant at first, a question of which neither of you were sure how to answer. But it deepened quickly, all the emotions you two had been suppressing were now spilling over into the way yours mouths moved against each other.
When both of you finally broke apart, breathless, foreheads resting together.
“You can’t just do that,” you started off. “This is what happened last time… and you know.”
Rafe quirked a teasing eyebrow at you. “What? Is this your way of subtly asking to reenact it?”
You felt your face ablaze, strongly gripping the counter behind you. “No, I wasn’t,” you squeaked as you heard him chuckle. “I was just… telling you.”
“Princess, you can always just ask for it.”
You were not going to be making the same mistake again. But impulse came before forethoughts of your heady actions. You gripped his shirt, pressing your lips against his – hopeful that he would reiterate with the same desire.
And thankfully, he did. His hands were suddenly wandering everywhere on your body. Searching around, finding its spot – one gently (but needily) cradling your head, while the other skimming your waistline.
“Bedroom,” you hoarsely muttered against his lips. “Not here.”
Lips reuniting with a desperate hunger, a collision of breath and need that sent a shiver through both of you. His hands were roaming more instinctively – grasping, pulling, holding – as you two stumbled back, movements uncoordinated but full of urgency.
Rafe tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, mouths moving in perfect chaos. You gasped against him, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as you bumped into the corner of the hallway. A half-laugh, half-groan escaped as he steadied you, his grip firm at your waist.
You didn’t bother turning on the lights; the faint glow from the horizon outside was streaming through the windows, enough to guide you two.
The kisses were relentless, punctuated by whispers of names and breathless laughter. His hands slyly sliding under your shirt, warm against your skin, as you were pressed against the bedroom door. You fumbled with the handle, breaking the kiss just long enough to look up at him, your eyes glazed and lips swollen.
“Here,” you whispered, barely audible, but he didn’t need words. His answer was the way his lips returned to yours, softening for a moment before pulling you inside. As if he was waiting for this very moment, lost in action. 
Every step was a tangle of limbs and stolen touches, the urgency was pacing and being matched. Crashing onto the bed, everything was becoming hazy. The desire was just about everywhere, scouring through your body.
You could feel how strategically slow he was moving against your body. His lips glided across your lips, down to your chest (which was still frustratingly clothed).
Everything was too slow for your liking. It was becoming too agonizingly slow. You were splayed on the bed, between his knees and his hands were still actively roaming around everywhere. Soft kisses planted on every inch of your skin that was bare. 
Both of your clothes were coming off, one by one, with an exchange of a soft kiss on your skin. His hands were just about everywhere, on the heat of your thighs, to your soft abdomen. The cool air hit your breasts which were pleasantly pert, and nipples unthinkably hard.
Soft moans were spilling out of you, with a trail of heavy breathing, as his tongue was swirling on the junctions of your skin, next to your sopping heat.
“Rafe,” you weren’t even thinking straight. “Stop teasing, you’re gonna kill me here.”
All you got in response was a soft chuckle and a teasing kiss to your clit. He was softly licking at your cunt, and you were only dripping in response. Your sweetness dripped on his tongue, down his throat – now he was impossibly stiff.
Quickly climbing onto the bed, as his back hit the headboard of the bed, sitting up up-right on his thigh. He sat you up right on his thigh, enclosing his hand full of your hair, bringing his lips down to your ear. “Princess, you’re soaked.”
You felt your face turn more red (if that was even possible), starting to slowly grind against his thigh. Your arousal was slowly spreading, as your clit was deliciously colliding with muscle-taut thighs. “Feels too good,” you whined.
Rafe was in absolute euphoria as he felt what was happening right now. You were here, on top of him on your bed, getting off from his own thigh – whining and moaning in his ear. He felt your fingers trace his arms up to his pecs, leading to goosebumps to arise, making him shiver and shut his eyes.
He felt your cunt moving from his thigh to his hard cock, as your hips were hugging him. He could imagine behind his closed eyes, a glistening trail of your arousal dripping all over him – and this made him harder. Painfully.
Next thing he felt was your warm cunt enveloping his cock, as you sank down on him. Eyes rolling back into his head, his teeth were gritting against each other. “Oh my fuck,” he managed to get out, he’s not sure of what he’s saying, anyways. “I didn’t put on a condom.”
He’s in complete bliss, trying not to thrust up harder, as he hears you mewl in his ear. 
“It’s okay, ‘m on the pill.” 
You were so fucking tight and warm, clamping down on his cock like how he clamped his sweaty fingers deep in your hips – mentally apologizing if it left a small bruise the next morning. 
The way you rolled your hips in such a fluid motion was keeping him insane. A rhythm that was built, drawing him too close to the edge that he’s even thinking about shoving you away. He can hold himself, just a bit more.
Next thing is that he feels you shudder, both your pelvis and your breath, against him. He can feel your fingers digging into the expanse of his shoulders, as you’re writhing in a flowing motion. You’re coming undone against him, on him, with him inside of you.
“Oh my God. Rafe.”
Hearing his name sweetly cry out of your mouth, with your succulent voice while your sweaty body collides with his, only causes him to roll you over onto your back. He wants more, and he can sense that you also want more.
“Can I…?” he muttered against your lips. He’s seeking your approval, that this is okay. Everything’s okay. It’s not just him. It’s both of you. You both want it. To fuck. Or was it love? 
Or maybe, each other?
Nevermind that, he’s inwardly grinning as he sees you manage to spread your legs even wider, whining out a response, knowing that this is surely mutual. Right?
“Please,” you manage to whine out. “Yes.”
He notes your confirmation as he holds you down, hands gripping your thighs. Both of your bodies meet together like a puzzle piece, like the two of you have always done this with such… love.
He grazes your slick-covered heat with his cock, sliding into you with such ease. The pleasure that’s thrumming beneath his hips is driving him mad, eyes rolling back due to the immense surge that went straight to his body.
Moving at an incredulously slow pace, he can feel your finger grasping at him – a sign to go faster. And so he does. Picking up his pace, his thrusts are going at a faster tempo, he leans closer to your face to give you a kiss. He murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, he’s not even sure of what he’s promising you at this rate.
All he feels is your hips attempting to meet his hips at the delicious pace, cunt clenching as his fingers reach down to your attention-seeking clit. He feels you tug at his hair, at his back – your hands are everywhere. He loves it.
He’s not sure of what you’re saying, but he hears your high-pitched whines and mewls, as your hips are erratically twitching and your soaked cunt clenching him tightly. Pulling out, he lets go on your stomach, feeling a groan rip through his throat. Everything is hazy.
A long moment of silence is passed through between the two of you, only deep breathing and pants to be heard. He hears you ask him to help carry you to the bathroom, and so he does.
He cleans up in the guest bathroom, and after a few long minutes you two reunite again in the bedroom the two of you just fucked in.
“Lay down with me,” you muster out, grabbing his arm and tugging him down on the floor. “The bed’s all sweaty now, just lay down on the ground with me.”
So he does, and he likes it. He’s not really sure what to do next. He’s never done this before. He usually fucks and leaves. He’s not used to staying after a session of fucking. Then he hears your sweet, timid voice which catches him off-guard. A question he’s been dreading to be asked.
“So, what does this make us? What even are we?”
“Uh,” Rafe clears his throat. “Friends.”
You sit upright, staring down at him. “Friends?”
He doesn’t like this. He’s not sure why you’re furrowing your brows at him, in a questioning tone. They’re friends now, right? So all he musters out is a blunt response. “Yeah?”
You stare at him warily and confused. You were sure that the reason he took you to the beach and got ice cream, him pulling you in for a kiss – it was more than just saying the word ‘friends’. It was like the night, all over again. “You’re joking, right?”
He looks away, sighing. “I already told you I don’t do relationships, Y/N.” He can’t tell you that he’s never been in a relationship before, he thinks it’ll ruin his image for you. A boy who’s never been in a relationship before.
You feel as if he just stabbed you, once again. “So this whole time,” you started off carefully, trying to get only the facts straight. “You fucked me as a friend?”
“Yeah.”
To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he felt of you. Were you a friend? More than a friend? No, he couldn’t think you were more than a friend. He felt that dating was a meticulous chore.
“Get out.”
He hears your voice, but it sounds pained. Why? Did you seriously want to be more than friends? He told you plenty of times that he didn't do relationships, why was this being turned onto him?
“What?”
You’re sniffling, and you’re not sure if you should necessarily be crying over him (again). “I said get out of my house.”
“I already told you I can’t, and don’t, do relationships.” He’s not sure why he says that in a questioning manner. It’s how he feels, right?
“Rafe, will you just get out?”
He stands up, and suddenly he feels angry. He’s not sure why, but he feels mad. Livid, even. He told you multiple times that he’s not a relationship type guy, and now it’s his fault? The next few words he spits at you is from complete impulse. “You can’t fucking make it seem like it’s just my fault when you were also the one rubbing yourself all over me. I even told you I don’t do relationships.” He snaps his mouth closed as he sees your pained face, washed by vulnerability.
“Get out.” Your voice betrays you, slipping out the tremble.
“Fine.”
He doesn’t want to leave. He wants to apologize. He wants to hold you tight to his body and apologize, with genuinity. Telling you he’s never done this. He can be better for you. But he can’t hurt his pride. He walks to the front door and turns back to ask you (with some kind of audacity). “Can I have your number, at least?”
You shove him out the door, and before slamming it shut on his face, you mutter with such vile. “You won’t need it since this is the last time we’ll see each other.”
He blankly stares at your front door that’s been slammed at his face. He feels sorry, but he’s not sure how to express it. Is he sorry? He’s not sure. But he feels guilt, in some way. 
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Well, not as he originally planned. He wanted to build a truce between you and him. Not a complete shut out. He sighs, angrily running his hand through his hair. He walks to his truck and he’s confused. Did he like you? Or did he just enjoy the utmost interesting attention you gave him?
He decides on the latter, and he drives off. Something is oddly nagging at his heart, but he (attempted to) brush it off instead.
That marked the first checkpoint between Rafe and Y/N. Strangers to enemies, with an inclusion of two fucks and an unsolicited "date." In other terms, the first “try” between the two of them, after two weeks of their first encounter at a party, with unsupervised whiskey.
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NOTES. hey... it's been awhile 😅 (but yay! we finally ended the first part) we're going to get that topper and yn's parents backstory in the second part.. (the upcoming few chapters ���) meanwhile.. thank you for all those asks and love you've been all sending :') truly love all of you
TAGS. check settings if you aren't properly tagged. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @percysley @wtfdudesblog @fratbrochrisgf @rrosiitas @powpowjinxlife @ltristessedureratoujours @ditzyzombiesblog @honeyluvsatj
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cosmicanakin · 2 days ago
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𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES
000. PROLOGUE ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .
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✸ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓; the first time you and jensen met.
PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱
SYNOPSIS. in a stormy december of '95, your world shifts when jensen arrives at your family's ranch. what starts with an awkward meeting becomes something unexpectedly sweet.
WARNING(S). awkward first meeting | subtle flirting | hand-holding | jealousy | mentions of small town gossip | unrequited feelings | peer pressuring parents (?) | ranch work | storm preparation | self-consciousness | social anxiety.
kari yaps. hiii there, i feel SO soso happy n giddy inside, seeing all of u as excited as i am for this new series !!!! i'll try my best to keep up w it, esp this upcoming week for xmas <3 & if it isnt finished by then, hopefully by new years it is. HOWEVER, if it isnt done once the new year rolls in, someone yell @ me, i give u full permission !!!!! im crossing my fingers, though. n e ways :) love yall smmm <3
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.
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DECEMBER brought the kind of cold that made texas feel foreign. you weren't expecting company that morning, which explained your current state: sleep shorts, an old long sleeve baby tee that had seen better days, and crew socks that reached above your ankles. your hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but you didn't care—until your dad's voice boomed through the house.
"honey, alan's boy is here to help with the storm prep!"
you froze, halfway through pouring your coffee. through the kitchen window, you caught sight of a red chevy pickup truck pulling up, and your stomach dropped. everyone knew alan ackles' son—jensen was practically dallas royalty when it came to ranch families.
"coming!" you called back, but it was too late. the screen door creaked open, and there he stood: tall, broad-shouldered, in worn jeans and boots, his green eyes catching yours immediately.
"jensen, this is my daughter," your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder. "sweetheart, this is jensen."
you wanted to die right there, especially when his lips curved into a slight smirk. "nice to meet you," he drawled, his voice deep and warm. "nice pajamas."
your face heats up in embarrassment. "i wasn't exactly expecting visitors at seven in the morning."
"storm's not gonna wait for proper attire, darlin'," your dad chuckled. "why don't you go get dressed? you're helping us today."
"what? dad, no—"
"actually," your mom chirped, appearing from nowhere like she always did when there was potential for embarrassment, "if you help today, we can hit the mall this afternoon."
you narrowed your eyes. "promise?"
"cross my heart."
yeah, you're never going to the mall.
twenty minutes later, properly dressed in jeans and boots, you found yourself trailing behind jensen and your dad toward the stables. the horses needed tending first—they were always priority during storms.
"beauty's been real fussy lately," your dad was saying. "might need extra attention."
"i can handle the horses," you offered quickly. anything to avoid more awkward interaction with jensen.
your dad nodded. "good idea. jensen and i'll check the fencing. don't forget to clean their areas too."
you watched them head off, relief flooding through you until beauty, your black mare, nudged your shoulder. "i know, girl," you muttered. "i'm a mess."
the next hour passed peacefully enough. most of the horses were being difficult—storm weather always made them antsy—but beauty kept them in line with warning neighs whenever they got too rowdy. you were halfway through brushing down the last horse when boots scuffed against the stable floor behind you.
"need any help?"
you jumped, spinning around to find jensen leaning against one of the stalls. "jesus, wear a bell or something."
he laughed, pushing off the frame and walking over. "your dad said to come check on you. more workers showed up to help with the heavy lifting."
"'m fine," you said quickly, turning back to the horse. "almost done."
"you sure? because that one looks about ready to bite."
as if on cue, the horse snapped its teeth, and you jerked back. jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing your back as he reached for the brush. "here," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "let me."
you stepped aside, watching as he effortlessly calmed the horse with a few gentle strokes. "show off."
"nah," he grinned. "just been doing this since i could walk. your ranch is different though. bigger than ours."
"yeah?" you leaned against the stable wall. "how so?"
and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. jensen told you about his family's ranch, about learning to ride before he could properly run, about the differences in how each ranch operated. by the time your dad called everyone in for dinner, you'd almost forgotten about your embarrassing first meeting.
your mom, ever the hostess, had prepared enough food to feed an army. neighbors started arriving, filling your house with chatter and laughter. you showered and changed, choosing a soft sweater and clean jeans, your hair finally tamed.
"movie time!" someone called after dinner, and suddenly the living room was full of kids your age, all piling onto couches to watch christmas reruns.
you tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to take up as little space as possible. but then jensen sat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours despite the space on his other side. you tried to scoot away, give him room, but he just moved closer.
"cold?" he whispered, and before you could answer, his hand found yours.
your palm went instantly clammy. across the room, you caught daisy oliver's glare—everyone knew she had a thing for jensen, had been trying to catch his eye for months. you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened.
"relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "this okay?"
you nodded, unable to form words, and spent the rest of the night hyper-aware of every small movement of his hand against yours.
the next morning, you hid in your room, avoiding the inevitable goodbye when his dad came to pick him up. you'd heard the rumors about him and daisy so holding his hand felt like crossing a line you hadn't meant to cross.
you didn't know then that jensen had never looked twice at her. didn't know that he had spend the whole ride home telling his dad about the girl in pajamas who'd caught his eye. didn't know that this was just the beginning.
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𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ゚✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!
𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 © 2024. ✶ please DO NOT copy or plagiarize my works.
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harrywavycurly · 1 day ago
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Sarah I just really would love some Harry fluff of any kind I’m not picky I’m just needy😩
Hiii babes!!! Ask and you shall receive! It’s holiday themed fluff if that’s okay? This is honestly just the first thing that popped into my mind so I hope you like this short little blurb!💖
Summary: You and Harry have some last minute gifts to wrap✨
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“Did you wrap this gift in the dark?” Harry lets out a huff as he looks up from his current position on the floor of the master bedroom near his side of the bed where he’s surrounded by things still needing to be wrapped as well as a small pile of things he’s done wrapping or placing in gift bags. When he looks up he finds you sitting on the floor near your side of the bed holding something he wrapped last night in a hurry, needing to get it done before you got home. “Why is there so much tape? And is that a-”
“I beg your pardon? That’s a perfect wrapping job considering who the gift is for.” He says in his own defense making you raise a brow as you look at the tag on the poorly wrapped box. He nervously chews on his bottom lip as he waits for your reaction once he sees your eyes scan the name on the tag.
“Harry we said no more gifts for her.” You say with a sigh as you look at the pile of wrapped presents that are along the wall your bedroom door is on. “She’s going to need a second playroom for all this stuff.” Harry follows your gaze and smiles at the thought of your little girl’s face as she opens all her gifts.
“That’s the last thing.” He promises with a smile making you roll your eyes because you heard him say the same thing just last week and yet here you are with another gift in your hands for the two year old little girl who’s currently asleep down the hall. “Besides half of those are clothes so they’ll just go in her closet.” He justifies with a shrug before reaching over to the pile of unwrapped gifts so he can grab one, gently placing it on top of the red and white polka dotted wrapping paper he’s using at the moment.
“Are you wrapping your own gift?” You ask as you slide Harry’s sadly wrapped box towards the wall so it can join the others that are ready to be placed under the tree in the living room.
“My own-oh is this for me?” He holds up the mug that’s in the middle of his wrapping paper and turns it around so he can read what it says but before he can actually get a good look he feels something hit his forehead and land in his lap. “Did you just throw a bow at me?”
“You were about to look at your gift what else was I supposed to do from all the way over here?” Harry lets out a laugh as he picks the bow up and tosses it back over to your side of the room making you giggle when he misses you completely and it lands a good foot away from you. “Be a good husband and bring it to me please? So I can wrap it for you.” You poke out your bottom lip in a playful pout as you look at him from across the room.
Harry looks at you as you wiggle around on the floor with your pillow so you can put it behind your back once you get close enough to the footboard of the bed so you can lean against it. You let out a deep sigh of relief and he can’t help the grin that takes over when he sees you place a hand on your fully formed bump, having hit the “due any day” mark a few days ago he knows getting comfortable is often times a struggle. He gets up after grabbing the mug, making sure he doesn’t look at what it says and after a few careful steps he’s standing next to you.
“The pout wasn’t necessary love.” He teases as you reach up and grab the mug from his hands and place it in the gift bag that’s between your spread legs. You smile when you look up and see he’s still looking down at you, he places a hand on top of the bed so he can lean down and place a quick kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He mumbles against your lips before giving them one last peck.
“I love you too.” He smiles as he stands up and turns to go back to his designated wrapping spot. “But if you get her one more gift I’m telling your mom how you really felt about her fruitcake.” You threaten making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head at your choice of a threat.
“Fine fine no more gifts for her.” You narrow your eyes as he sits down and grabs a pack of customized golf balls to wrap for Niall. He can feel your eyes on him as the corners of his mouth twitch as he fights off a smirk. “But I may have a few more things for him in this pile.” He explains as he tosses a quick look over his shoulder to the pile of gifts he has left in need of wrapping, his eyes landing on a little pair of sneakers he got that might or might not match a pair he has in his own closet.
“You think he’ll show up in time for Christmas? Or will he wait for New Year’s Eve?” You ask as you rub your stomach with one hand and place some tissue paper into the bag with Harry’s mug in it, smiling when you remember that it says “Daddy is a state of mind” in bright pink font, having been obsessed with that quote ever since you heard Pedro Pascal say it during an interview and figuring it fit Harry’s personality perfectly.
“Oh he’s going to make quite the entrance so I’m betting on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day.” He answers as he begins to wrap Niall’s gift with some green and white paper.
“He’s going to make an entrance huh? Wonder who he gets that from.” You joke making Harry shoot you a playful glare before both of you go back to wrapping gifts, trying to finish most of it so the next few days you can relax and enjoy the holiday festivities as well as the final days of the Styles household being a little family of three before your son decides to make his arrival.
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dimlylittorch · 2 days ago
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18+ drabble MDNI
My Masterlist🌱
Silco x transmasc!reader
y’all i’m sorry i need this man SO badly. i only recently watched Arcane for the first time and him and Viktor have been going through my head nonstop🙏
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Imagine being Silco’s pretty boy assistant he snagged from topside, wanting a trophy to keep at his side. Offering you a job you can’t refuse- amazing pay and promises of the chance to explore a whole new world (aka the Undercity)
Wearing your nice topsider outfits like you would any other day in Piltover, not noticing the odd looks others gave you down there. Silco loving how you’re like his own exotic pet to regular citizens- the topsider he had stolen away and kept on a leash.
Being surprisingly good at your job, fully prepared to actually try your best (something he often couldn’t find in others.) Color coding, organizing, making lists- even writing out a daily schedule for him, much to his amazement.
Not thinking much of it when Silco calls you a good boy- maybe that’s just usual talk for down here, right? Silco trying to ignore the way his cock chubs up every time you smile sweetly after being praised.
Not realizing how your smile is a rarity for Silco to see since he lives in the Undercity. Your kindness isn’t something he’s used to, making him more attached to you than he should be. He’s already taken care of a few stragglers that called you names or whistled at you.
Finding him needing help with his eye injections but no one else is around. You offer to help with a sweet concerned look on your face, walking over and trying to find a good angle. Struggling to get a comfortable position so you gently rest your knee in between his legs on his desk chair, your leg brushing against his clothed cock which was already hardening. Him letting out a small moan when you inject his eye, which you assumed was from the pain, but really your knee brushed against his cock again.
Him taking you out to dinner as a ‘present’ for doing so well recently, but in reality he just wants to see you more. If he’s lucky enough maybe one of these nights he’ll convince you to come home with him- since it’s ’far too long a walk at this time of night’ for you to get back to your apartment all the way in Piltover.
Silco finding your little day journal that you use to take notes and keep track of what you need to do. Flipping through it out of curiosity, finding the page where you jot down what he likes so you know what to get him for the holidays. His chest feeling warmer than it has in years.
Bringing him trinkets from Piltover as if he couldn’t just get them himself if he wanted to. An entire drawer of his desk is dedicated to just the things you bring him. Little do you know how his heart speeds up a little when you leave a new present on his desk. Can’t help but imagine you wearing a neatly tied ribbon and sitting on his desk, waiting for him as his next gift.
I will 100% be writing more for this don’t yall worry
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backstage-autorin · 8 hours ago
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I will never not find it funny that although Zuko is the one I see mentioned the most often in discussions of autistic-coded characters, of the three who set off my "takes one to know one" sense on my first watchthrough of the series, he is also the one I picked up *last.*
I picked up on Iroh first when he firebent his tea while waiting to enter Ba Sing Se. The only way I can make that choice make sense is if he had some kind of sensory processing issue that prevented him from drinking tea at the wrong temperature, or if he was stressed from the trip, needed to stim, and playing around with flavors/scents/temperatures of tea was the only form of stimming he was allowed growing up, making it his default method of stimming as an adult. (If the school he attended as a child was anything like the school where Aang got in trouble for dancing in music class, it's not difficult to imagine autistic students getting in trouble for stimming). Over the years of using different scents/flavors/temperatures of tea as the one form of sensory input he was allowed to be in control of, he developed a special interest in tea. Adding the fact that caffeine is sometimes used to self-medicate ADHD, depending on the caffeine content of his teas it's possible that Iroh has inadvertently been self-medicating for undiagnosed ADHD (as far as I'm aware the vocabulary to get diagnosed doesn't exist in-universe). Overall, I headcannon Iroh as AuDHD.
Azula was the next one I picked up on, during the Beach episode. The moment that made the headcannon click was the "sharp outfit" monologue/flirtation attempt, but she also takes the "party from dusk till dawn" invitation literally and her observation about the volleyball opponent's childhood injury on the left side reminded me of my own (self-described) unhinged pattern recognition. She masks well but unfortunately for her the environment she built her mask for was extremely dysfunctional, which I think played a role in her eventual breakdown. (For a modern-day equivalent, it's not uncommon for autistic women to only get diagnosed after seeking treatment for mental health disorders.) Azula being praised/recognized as a firebending prodigy but struggling in other settings reminds me of the discourse around gifted education, the prevalence of undiagnosed neurodivergence in gifted programs, and the recognition of twice-exceptional students (students who qualify for special education and gifted education at the same time), and I would probably headcannon her as a technically twice-exceptional student whose autism went undiagnosed so on paper she's just considered "gifted" instead of "twice exceptional."
Zuko, on the other hand, flew under my radar until he practiced the "Hello, Zuko here" speech for that frog, vented to that same frog (or maybe the frog was just there while he was talking to himself) while analyzing his social interaction failure after he accidentally reveals that he hired Combustion Man, and then an episode or two later fails to make anyone laugh with the "leaf me alone, I'm bushed" joke. I sometimes rehearse social interactions beforehand, very frequently replay my conversation errors in my head, and have plenty of experience with messing up at telling jokes, so i guess seeing Zuko do the same is what it took for me to figure it out. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if the reason it took me so long to pick up on Zuko being autistic is because he was masking to the best of his ability when he was trying to regain and/or maintain his father's approval and then once he switched sides he no longer felt the same need to try to pretend to be neurotypical.
There's probably a lot more I can say if I were to analyze the show through the lens of Iroh, Azula, and Zuko all being autistic but tbh those thoughts should probably be their own post instead of commentary on someone else's meme.
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threestarsinline · 1 day ago
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The Word of Your Body
Jason Todd x reader one shot
Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.
Word Count: 5.8K
Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him
Warnings: Jason having a bad time
Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!
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It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.
And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.
You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.
That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.
You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.
You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.
And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.
And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.
You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.
You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.
That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.
Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.
When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.
Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.
But nothing. He stays frozen.
You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.
But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.
You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.
He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.
Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.
“I’m going to touch you, okay?”
He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.
Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.
He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.
“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.
You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.
The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.
But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.
From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.
You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.
Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.
You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.
His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.
Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.
Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.
You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.
But still, his gaze remains lost.
You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.
However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.
You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.
Stay.
Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”
As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.
“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.
You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?
Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.
You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.
Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.
Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.
You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.
Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.
Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.
You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.
“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.
You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.
But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.
You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.
Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.
You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.
You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.
You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.
“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.
Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.
“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”
Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.
He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.
The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.
Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.
Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.
“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.
“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.
Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.
Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.
He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.
He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.
“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.
“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.
And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.
Home.
Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”
You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.
Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.
But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.
And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.
Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.
The impotence. The sadness. The failure.
He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.
“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.
“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-
You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.
“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.
“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”
You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.
“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.
“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.
“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.
You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.
And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.
“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.
He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.
“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.
This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.
After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.
He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.
“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.
You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.
He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.
You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.
He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.
And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.
Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
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