#no hate to those who are just sharing it amongst friends

[aveline-amelia]

Tw: mentions of non-canonical character death (as in, discussion of theories about a potential death of Mycroft Holmes and theories mostly before series 4 aired) also spoilers for a character death in CW's The 100.

I don't usually do callout posts. But this I am willing to make an exception for. I do not hate Johnlockers or TJLCrs. This is not even strictly a thing only they did - but it was mostly them. And that was constant speculation about Mycroft's death. That a lot of people started to believe and get worried and upset over.

A lot of people believed he would die. To be clear, I am not saying they all wanted him to die. Plenty of people feared he would die and were looking for any signs of reassurance. These people got a lot of fandom concerned over something that wasn't nearly as certain as they all claimed it was.

As far as I know, it was the scene in TAB when Sherlock tells TAB!Mycroft when he is going to die and the "I will always be there for you" comment, which they saw as foreshadowing his death. Curiously, though, Sherlock makes a similar vow at the wedding to John, Mary and Rosie yet no one claimed this foreshadowed his death. -_- and I obviously don't want Sherlock to die. But it is hypocrisy.

Critics will say Sherlock could have shot John, but use the word kill with Mycroft. They view him as expendable. Not as important. Holmes' brother Mycroft, as though he is the lesser Holmes. As though he is not also a Holmes, or doesn't deserve the privilege of the name despite having it before Sherlock did.

A sizable amount of people proclaimed they will stop watching if Mycroft is killed off.

One person said that Mycroft is LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON THEY ARE STILL ALIVE.

There is a difference between "this character's death will be very sad, I will cry a lot and get emotional and then move on, it will be so awful..." vs "this will give me a mental health crisis, push me into a deep depression and possibly make me suicidal". And let me tell you, do not wish for it and hope for it if you have only experienced the former while others will experience the latter.

Maybe this person was being hyperbolic. But I will tell you when you have that level of dedication to a character, saying they should die is like saying you should die too. That you might as well. That you deserve to.

There is a reason that people sent each other suicide hotlines when Lexa died. People related to this badass lesbian and when she was killed off, right after she was finally happy, the rug was pulled from under them. It felt cruel. They felt hopeless.

And yes, some people saw and still see Mycroft as representative of various identities, either sexualities (or a lack of being sexual) or neurodivergence. Or they just relate to him for other reasons! He matters to them, but be honest, he doesn't matter to a lot of you. Not really.

Some TJLCrs see Sherlock and John as People, but everyone else is just a Plot Device. A Metaphor. Some straight up admitted that to them only Johnlock is real. They don't care about anything else.

One person seriously argued over that childhood clip of a young Sherlock hugging a young Mycroft saying "they don't see any resentment there". Because seven year old Sherlock and almost forty year old Sherlock are obviously The Same... and that one honestly makes me really sad? Like, how do you see something that pure and that is your only thought?

They love to project all the traits they dislike about Sherlock onto Mycroft. In their mind, Mycroft was born already a fully formed adult human, in a three piece suit and an umbrella in his hands and his first words were "Caring is not an advantage". I mean, it's not like in canon he only says that to Sherlock to make him feel better or something?

It's fine. If you only like John and Sherlock, only those two characters and only relate to them, fine. Write fic about them. Make fanart about them.

But be aware there are people out there who do not share that sentiment.

And yesterday I saw someone basically hoping for a scene in season 5 where they get their wish fulfillment dramatic Mycroft death scene. As if they were owed that.

And God did that make me mad. I hate using this word but that is such entitlement. If you want that scene, write it yourself. Share it amongst friends and mutuals. Write fanfic! Tag it accordingly so that people don't have to see it.

I saw that art of Sherlock crying over his brother's dead body twice already, which is two times more than I ever wanted to see it. I still sometimes see it when I close my eyes.

It's one thing to want your ships to be canon. It's another thing to want a character to die solely to fulfill your fantasy when that will hurt real life people who it matters to that he stays alive.

We deserve a happy ending too.

[kyeomofhearts]

Need Somebody | J.WW

+ summary: a heart-to-heart conversation with your best friend leads to an unexpected confession…

+ pair: wonwoo x gn!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: hurt/comfort, it was never platonic lol, mutual pining, angst, fluff. (I really tried keeping the reader gender-neutral but I’m not 100% sure it is so please lmk if I need to make any changes!)

[borders created by @enchanthings <3]

“So when do you plan on settling down?” Your mother had asked you over dinner. God, you hated the holidays.

Never in your life have you ever dated anyone.

Not that you needed to.

It's not like you haven't had anyone take interest in you either, there would be some people here and there who would pursue you for a bit. You were just simply not interested in them.

Of course, there would be times when you would feel the loneliness creep in even more than usual. But you usually reasoned to yourself that the right person would come with time.

Except tonight happened to be one of those nights.

You see, your family had just left your place a few hours ago. With the holidays coming and going, your family had begun to visit you more often.

Now you obviously loved your family, but man, did they get on your nerves.

Being the youngest amongst your siblings was becoming more difficult as the years passed by. Seeing them get married one by one definitely didn’t help with your case either.

Your mom started to fear for your so-called ‘future’. Which irritated you since you had everything you needed for the most part, that being a well-paying job and a nice place.

Which is exactly what happened today. Your parents (alongside your siblings) started asking you non-stop questions over your love life.

“Mom please don’t,” you tried to keep your tone respectful but it was getting difficult when you weren’t seeing an end to these invasive questions.

“What? All of your other siblings have gotten married… don’t you think that’s it’s time you do too?” Her tone was bordering a slight feeling of concern and stress.

You stayed quiet for a beat, trying to give her a response that would help get her off your back until the next time she saw you.

“We’ve talked about this, I’m not in a rush and surely it will-“ before you could finish your sentence your mom was already finishing it for you.

“-happen with time I know. But don’t you think you are being too picky at this point? Prince Charming doesn’t exist, so stop waiting for him.”

There it was.

Just because you didn’t date around didn’t mean that you were picky.

You just didn’t like wasting your time with the wrong people, that's all it was.

But before you could counter, one of your siblings quickly changed the subject before things eventually escalated into something worse.

And just like that, the rest of your evening had been soured by that single conversation with your mother.

Even hours after your family had left, you still felt bothered by your mother’s disapproving comments.

…

Needless to say, you called the only person who would be awake at one in the morning.

Wonwoo.

You and Wonwoo have been close friends for a few years, having first met in your senior year of college.

At first he was just an acquaintance, someone you thought you would see once in a while. But he somehow happened to be everywhere you were.

You don’t really remember how the two of you actually became friends, it could have been through a mutual friend or class that you shared. But ever since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

You might have had the tiniest crush on him too but you don’t really like thinking about that. You like to think you grew past that stage.

“yn? Is everything okay?” His voice was slightly groggy… shit you might have woken him up.

“Fuck I’m sorry, were you asleep? I’ll leave you-“

What was it with people cutting you off mid-sentence?

“-No I wasn’t. I actually just woke up from my nap, what’s up?”

Wonwoo and his naps. At this point they should not be called naps considering how long he sleeps for.

“Oh you know… just had the best talk with my family.”

You could hear him audibly smile. Wonwoo knew that you didn’t always have the best times with your family, having heard your countless rants throughout the years.

“What did they say this time?” He asked with faux enthusiasm.

“More like what did my mom say. She just kept asking me when I plan on getting married and that I should stop being picky.” As much as you tried to act nonchalant about it, you were really upset by the way things had turned out.

Wonwoo quickly took notice in your slightly wavering voice. It wasn’t normal for you to get emotional over small fights like this. It must have been serious enough for you to remain bothered even after your family had left.

“Hey, don’t take it to heart. I know your mom can say some out of pocket things but try to not let it get to you.” Wonwoo was not the best at comforting people, even he knew that, but he always tried his best to comfort you.

“I know but it’s so…. irritating? Like she told me to stop waiting for Prince Charming as if I’m a little kid.” You wanted to say more but once you started ranting you knew Wonwoo would not be able to keep up.

“I’ve told her so many times that I don’t want to waste my time with the wrong person. I don’t get how she doesn’t understand that!”

Relax. Just take a deep breath and wait for his response.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Even though Wonwoo had been over to your place a numerous amount of times, you still couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat race at the thought of him coming over.

“No, it’s okay I promise. I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

One thing you had learned about Wonwoo was that he was a bit assertive when he was concerned about you.

“Hmmm… doesn’t matter I’m coming over.”

It was always shocking to see him get this bold, seeing how reserved he was with everyone else.

“What was the point in asking then?” You tried sounding annoyed but you knew that your smile was very audible.

“Just wanted to make you feel like you had a choice.” You could hear his cockiness through the phone and somehow, it made your heart do somersaults.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to be coming over?” Like always, you tried playing it cool, never wanting to show Wonwoo how his words got to you. Maybe he did notice, but if he did, he never said anything about it.

“Never… I’ll see you in ten.”

And just like that he ended the call.

Sometimes you wondered what it would be like when he eventually got a girlfriend. Wonwoo is a good-looking guy, you’re surprised he hasn’t been snatched up yet. Not that you’re worried or anything, but… you know, things will surely change once he finds the one.

Maybe it was you being selfish, but you try to take advantage of the little time you have left before either one of you finds a partner. You know it’s bound to happen at some point, so might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

It actually took Wonwoo a little over thirty minutes to get to your place, which was weird considering you live pretty close to each other.

What was also weird was that he knocked. He never knocked anymore considering that he had a key to your place.

“Hey, what took you so-“ opening the door you were greeted with a slightly disheveled Wonwoo.

Oh.

Wonwoo’s hands were filled with plastic bags. You could see snacks poking out of through some of the bags and… regular groceries? What grocery store is open at this hour?

“Couldn’t come over empty handed.” He stated simply.

Before he stepped another foot you decided to help him with the load. You could imagine how tiring it must have been for him to carry the bags all the way to the third floor of your apartment building.

Seeing him like this felt oddly comforting. It looked like he was just returning home from a long day at work.

“You really didn’t have to Won…” As much as you liked to play it cool, you couldn’t help but swoon over his actions. It was hard to when he was just so caring.

“But I wanted to… everything I do is by my own will you know,” he softly smiled at you while ruffling your hair.

Before you were able to respond, he quickly offered you your favorite bag of chips.

“Sit down, I’ll put everything away.”

And just like that, he quickly went to work. It helped that he knew where everything went so it didn’t take him long before he joined you on the sofa.

“So… rough night?” He asked gently, despite being so bold through the phone. Seeing your defeated face always put a sour taste in his mouth, which made him more careful with his words.

“You could say that.” You tried to laugh it off, but he knew that you were bothered.

“I know dealing with your family is hard but just know that I’m always here for you.” He lightly grabbed your hands over to his, rubbing soft circles over your palms.

This always seemed to do the trick, seeing your tense shoulders drop into a more relaxed position.

“And I’m grateful for that Won… but sometimes it really gets to me you know?” You tried avoiding looking into his eyes because you knew that one look would break the dam building up in your eyes.

“Maybe she is right… maybe I am being too unreasonable. Like as much as I like to think that the right guy will come through one day… what if he doesn’t?”

This seemed to annoy Wonwoo. He never wanted to see you settle for less, because he knew that you deserved better.

With a sharp inhale, he grabbed your chin to make you look directly into his eyes.

“Never say that again. You should never settle for less. You know better than that.” He was obviously annoyed but not at you. He hated when others tried to make you take less than what you truly deserve.

His fingers on your chin stayed, making your skin slightly tingle from his touch.

As great as he was at comforting you, the thoughts of him someday not being able to be there for you started to cloud your mind. It was bound to happen, either you or Wonwoo would find someone and eventually stop hanging out. Wonwoo seemed to notice the shift in your sadness, eyes becoming glossy.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he muttered softly.

“It’s nothing,” you weren’t sure if he actually heard your response since it was barely audible to you.

Wonwoo gave you that look. The one he always used when he wasn’t convinced by your responses. You didn't want to tell him about your fear because it would then expose your feelings for him. And that was one thing you could never risk, your friendship. No matter how strong your feelings would get, you couldn't let him become aware of them.

“Talk to me,” his eyes were pleading. He just wanted you to completely open up to him the way he did with you.

There was no way out of this. Obviously, you weren’t going to tell him the actual reason behind your sadness. You had to give him something to get him off your trail.

“Well, it’s just that sometimes it does feel lonely. And having my mom point out the obvious makes me feel like a lost cause. I’m also not getting any younger, so now I feel like I have to rush into something or else my ‘good’ years would have gone to waste…” While this wasn’t the actual thing that was bothering you tonight, it was at least something believable.

Wonwoo seemed to have bought it, since he stopped giving you those judging eyes. He stayed quiet, most likely trying to find the right thing to say.

He cleared his throat after a beat or so.

“Don’t lie to me. I know there’s something else bothering you, if you don’t want to tell me then just say that.”

How? How did he know you that you were lying?

Maybe this was your chance. Your chance to tell him how you felt about it because if you truly thought about it, there was no future with him either way. Either he rejects you or he finds someone, they both lead to you not being in his life in the future.

You took in deep breath, gathering all of your courage before speaking.

“If I tell you, please don’t judge me-“

He immediately cut you off, “Why would I judge you?”

“Please just let me finish, it’s already hard enough having to tell you.” Again, you avoided his eyes, fearful of seeing any sort of judgment in them.

“Look, I know we’ve been friends for a while now… and I’ve been so happy with that, I really have. It’s just that… one day we won’t have each other.”

As much as you tried not looking at him, your eyes landed on his. They looked solemn. You could already tell that he knew where the conversation was going.

“Eventually, we’ll have our own partners-” your voice was beginning to shake, becoming harder to hide your sadness.

“yn stop.” But before Wonwoo could get another word in, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His hands had snaked their way up to your neck, gently cradling your face. His touch was gentle, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world.

You were stunned, to say the least. Even as he pulled away, you couldn’t find any words to say. It was as if he had taken your breath away.

“I tried taking it slow, I really did, but I can’t continue seeing you like this. I like you yn, I really do. I was too scared of ruining our friendship so I didn't say anything, but I hate to see you think that no one wants you… because I do.”

You didn’t even notice you had started crying, only feeling Wonwoo's thumbs wipe your tears away.

He continued, “I’m not even sure if you feel the same way about me, but I really need you to know that you are not unloveable.”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Especially now that you knew that Wonwoo liked you back, you felt elated.

Wonwoo on the other hand… felt terrified. While he didn’t regret confessing his feelings towards you, he was certainly scared. He didn’t even know if you reciprocated those same feelings. It also didn’t help that you were being quiet. The silence that was once comfortable to him was beginning to feel suffocating. But before his thoughts could escalate any further, your voice was able to snap him out of his daze.

“Do you really mean it?” You knew it was stupid to ask, considering Wonwoo was not the type to stay stuff like this without meaning it. But the little voice in your head didn’t buy it one bit, so you needed the reassurance to silence those thoughts.

Without hesitation, Wonwoo answered, “Of course.”

“Okay, well… I do too. Like you, that is…” Your face was beginning to burn up. This was so embarrassing. God, you felt like a teenager again, except this time you actually did get your happy ending.

But like the two idiots you were… you didn’t move a single inch. Were you supposed to hug? High-five? Kiss again? This has never happened to you before, either you rejected the guy or pretended that it never happened. What were you supposed to do?

“So….” Wonwoo’s voice was quiet and awkward.

To be fair, neither of you were expecting to confess to each other tonight. Obviously, now that you both know that you have mutual feelings for each other… the next step would be dating right? Or is that too soon? You have been friends for a while now so it wouldn't be that unreasonable... right?

Wonwoo grabbed a hold of your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. You could see the tips of his ears turn a bright pink before he cleared his throat.

“Do you… want to be my-” Wonwoo was visibly cringing as he said it out loud. It was a no brainer, but he still wanted to ask you, to make it official.

“-Yes. I would be an idiot to say no.”

[ᝰ.ᐟ] hey guys! i know i haven’t been active lately and i’m really sorry about that. school has been so overwhelming for me so i struggled finding the time to write, which brings us to this! i wrote this i think… last year? not too sure but i tried editing it a little but there might be some errors here and there so please excuse that 🥹 also i am still working on part three for Back for More so stay tuned for that!

[sylussys]

KINGS GAMBIT.

AVENTURINE x fem reader. nsfw, mdni. porn with plot(?). putting a slight ooc warning in case those aventurine fans come at me. wc: 3.3k

SUMMARY. perhaps life is a gamble in itself—choices must be made in order to survive this world rife with opportunity and its pitfalls. but how far will you go? what will you put on the line? in his words, it’s all or nothing.

You find him at the casino. 

Your casino, if you could still call it that. Or what it had been, with its endless rewards to sow from patrons that poured their wealth into machines that lined your own pockets day by day. You were the one who had built this establishment from the ground up, pulled together an existence amongst this bleak world. 

So how had it all fallen into his hands? 

Your fingers twitch, threatening to crumple the document in your hands. A debt settlement—you had wanted to scoff at the incredulity of it all, as you scan the brightly lit room for the man who had penned such a statement. 

It’s not hard to locate him, sitting in the middle of it all, engrossed within a game of poker, chips piled high by his side. He sticks out like a peacock, extravagant and bold even amongst the finest luxury this world offers. 

“Aventurine.” You utter, quietly at first, trying to hide the slight tremor in your voice—you’re still unsure of this whole affair, as you approach him. Your pride didn’t want to allow it. 

Even his name feels embellished. But rolling off your tongue it’s heavy, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. 

“Aventurine.” You repeat again, louder. 

The game pauses.

Aventurine lifts his head, glancing up at you. His lips pull up into a smile a moment later, eyes gleaming behind those rose tinted glasses. In this light, he looks smug almost. 

“Ah Miss Y/N, we meet again.” He starts, as if greeting an old friend. 

Your first meeting had not been so amicable, if you could call it that. His appearance had brought enough trouble to this world—you are not so blind to not notice the market shrinking, businesses run to the ground. Soon enough, it too had arrived upon your doorstep, to run up on old debts long forgotten by time. 

For that was the price for existing, to flourish. You had only shone bright enough to draw their hungry gaze. These visitors from beyond the sky, they’ll soon drain this world dry and move on to things with greater promise. Everything would disappear, just as how quickly golden coins are exchanged between hands and cash is pocketed.

Thirteen days, he had given you. To either sign off your entire fortune and its shares to the IPC—or to convince him otherwise.

“I‘ve made my choice.” You say stiffly. 

“Leave us.” You snap at the rest of the patrons around the table, who scatter immediately, scooping up their chips and disappearing out the door. 

He watches as the last of them disappears from view, fingers drumming on the tabletop, before he turns to you, amusement written across his features. “And what will that be?” 

“I will have you know, I do consider myself rather merciful, compared to my other colleagues.” He drawls, leaning back in his chair.  

“I don’t need your pity.” You hiss. 

You had spent twelve of the days grappling between what was your pride and bare necessity. To throw it all away, could you even do that? Or would you be so pathetic enough to plead for mercy? If such a concept existed to those who looked down from the head of their high tables. 

Even from here, the gold of his watch glistens brighter than any gold you’ve ever seen, the rhinestones on his jacket cut from a gem whose properties are beyond you. Your luxuries are lost on him, your world but a speck of dust in the vast universe the IPC encompassed.

It’s easy to hate him. You can think of a hundred different names to call him—an asshole, a loan shark, just to name a few. You wonder if he has ever known struggle, or has life always just been a game to him? One where he holds all the winning cards. 

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. “I’ll get the money. All of it.” 

It falls silent. 

He stares at you, perhaps almost incredulously. 

Then he tips his head back and laughs.

“You’re aware that is half a billion credits right?” 

You both know it would be easier to sign off your business, get the IPC off your back—him included. But you refuse to give up so easily, not after all you had done to bring this from the ground up. You weren’t going to become a pawn in their game. 

“I’ll find a way. Just give me some more time.” 

“How bold of you.” He muses. “You know Y/N, I must admire your tenacity.” 

You’re not like the other women who have sought him out in desperation, ones with no true grasp on any business, this the first time in their lives where they’ve struggled, despaired even, at the uncertainties of the future which had once been promised to them. They plead for mercy, for themselves and their families. 

You on the other hand have known struggle. Nothing in this world had been handed to you upon a silver platter. You’ve fought tooth and nail, clawing your way up to the top by any means possible—to survive. This business of yours had been nothing, but you had made it something. And you would not let go of something so precious in a world of beggars and thieves. 

Aventurine clicks his tongue. “But time is money. None of which you have right now at your disposal, and the IPC does not take empty promises for one.” 

“You’re setting yourself an impossible task. Why not take the easy way out?” He waves your discarded document in front of your face almost tauntingly, watching as your eyes narrow. 

He knows you won’t. An animal caught in a trap will gnaw off its own leg to escape. Others unlike you would balk at the idea, accepting their fate. 

“You and I both know that is not the case.” You hiss through gritted teeth, turning away, eyes flickering over to the unfinished game of poker on the table. Your fingers rest atop a particularly high pile of chips, watching as it topples beneath your touch. All this wealth, you think, brought crashing down so easily. 

“Everything has a price. It won’t end here.” 

A drowning person will grab onto anything, forgoing the consequences for a shot at survival. 

You are no stranger to that nature of desperation, it forever having existed in the underbellies of this city and its helpless souls. Risking arm and limb for a bag of gold to feed their hunger, or to tarnish their own hands at a price—you’ve seen it all. You too had been amongst them once, staking your survival to dig yourself out from the dirt. 

But you’ve learnt to be better, being the only way you have risen to the top. You would not subject yourself to the IPC’s whims so easily, to be forever indebted to them, with your last bargaining chip gone. 

Behind you, you hear the scrape of a chair against the floor, footsteps stopping behind you. A gloved hand reaches out, restacking the chips you had knocked over. “I suppose I underestimated you, Y/N.” 

You scoff. 

“Perhaps we are kindred spirits, in that we will do anything to survive on our own terms in this world.” He huffs a laugh, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. “Let me make you an offer, one from myself and not the IPC. One you can’t possibly refuse.” 

You pause, hesitating. “And what is your price?” 

You don’t trust him. No one in their right mind should. But oddly enough, he sounds sincere. It could be a chance to escape the IPC’s grasp. Yet could you allow yourself to be indebted to him instead? The devil takes on many forms, with its most beautiful ones the most treacherous. 

Aventurine hums appreciably. “Humour me, how much are you willing to put on the line? Could you wager your life—”

“—or something else perhaps?” His voice drops to a whisper. 

Too late, you think. He’s already gotten you backed into a corner. 

He has everything to gain. You have everything to lose, and already you’ve been left with nothing but your wits and the meagre sum left to your name. There’s nothing but a false plea for more time that you cling to now, hoping he would take your bluff. And perhaps he could see through that act of yours too. 

Your breath hitches as you feel his hand grasp your chin. The leather of his gloves are bitingly cold, like pinpricks of ice against your skin, digging into you. 

He turns your head to meet his eyes, hues of cyan and pink gleaming in the light—maddened almost. He’s suddenly way too close you realise, hot breath fanning against your face as he chuckles. 

“Beg me.” He whispers. “Beg for my help.” 

Your nails dig further into the table at his words. You don’t even notice the angry tears that have begun to prick at the corner of your eyes until he wipes them away. He’s practically pressed against you now—you have nowhere to run, wedged between him and the table. 

You swallow back the lump in your throat, chest heaving. It’s suddenly stiflingly hot—between his closeness and the part of you that is seething internally, heart thumping loudly in the silence. 

“You are infuriating.” You get out a moment later, scooting back on the table to swipe your foot at him. 

He catches your leg halfway, amused. “So I’ve been told.” 

“It must be difficult.” He steps in between your legs, leaning down as he continues. “Alone with the world crashing down around you… I suppose I could understand how you feel. That the mighty should be humbled.” 

“Truly it would be a shame for it to end like this.” He murmurs, fingers moving to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fans across your cheeks as his eyes fall to your lips. “Take my offer. Let me help you.” 

You could almost believe him, the way he grazes your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw with an uncanny gentleness. That he pities you—your desperation. It is a desperation that burns like no other, hollowing and empty, yet ravaging to consume, lying beneath the last extant shreds of what remains a tether to this world that has not yet blurred beyond reason. 

“I only wonder…” The hunger in his eyes is unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a half smirk. “How much more can you take until you crack?” 

The shallow breath you draw into your lungs is like music to his ears, and you feel his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaits your response. 

Your skin is as smooth as porcelain and just as devastatingly fragile, beneath his digits encrusted with the weight of gold—as if made to crumble by his touch, the gravity of it all, that delicate figure that has teetered precariously on the lines of control. 

And he cracks that shell, leaves all there is to break, to consume. Your response is airy, hardly more than a whisper, but a bite to the last of your challenge, rekindled fire burning to meet his hungry gaze. “How much will you give to find out?” 

“Everything.” 

Those few words come out roughly, but you hardly get the chance to dwell on it. His lips are on your neck in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatens to burn you from the inside out.

His fingers trail down the length of your figure, bunching the fabric of your dress in his hands as he pushes you further over the table. A stack of chips topple over at the force, scattering all over the tabletop, splayed around your frame. 

You shiver as his free hand pulls down the zipper of your dress—revealing the full flush of your figure, his mouth trailing past your collarbone, down to your exposed breasts, his tongue flicking out as if to savour the feeling of your bare skin, a low moan of satisfaction escaping him. You smell sweet, like the scent of freshly blossoming flowers. 

Perhaps you could grant his starving soul satiation, two sides of the same coin, halves to a whole. 

It’s no secret he has been captivated by you. He’s heard acclaim of your name in the first moments of stepping onto this world, a woman who had come from no background having risen so high, forged your own path. And perhaps he had gotten more than what he had gambled for. 

Truly he does think you’re pretty, from your first meeting where you had stood as an elegant figure of ethereal grace—an unattainable treasure, cutting a flawless figure in the sweep of your dress. But you’ve shed some of that light, revealing all that lay beneath. And now, he sees you laid out before him, face flushed, lipstick stained in a hot mess. 

Slowly, his kisses move further down. Before you could even make out his motions, he’s licking a hot stripe down your cunt, pulling a choked gasp from your throat, eyes fluttering shut as you try not to lose all control. His tongue prods at the entrance of your hole, and you can feel his groan reverberate against you, drinking up your arousal. 

Good gods. You think you’re beginning to see stars already. 

A shudder escapes you when Aventurine cuts you off with another hot moan against your dripping cunt, pressing his lips against your clit. You have to clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds that push past your own lips. 

“Embarrassed?” He purrs, lifting his head, fingers pulling away your hand. 

You forget how infuriating he can be when his mouth isn’t occupied. You grit your teeth, shoving him back, rolling your hips against his tongue just to shut him up. You earn a quiet huff from him before he’s dipping back into your cunt with renewed vigour, lapping up the arousal. 

He doesn’t let up, enraptured with the taste of you, the sounds of him sloppily sucking on your clit and your soft moans filling the room. You’re momentarily glad that you had emptied the room and the rest of the casino earlier. 

Soon you can’t take it anymore, chest heaving as he coaxes another moan from you. Tears begin to prick at your eyes again as his tongue drags another languid lick up against your folds, eating you out like a man starved. It’s awfully vulgar and lewd, so perfectly mind numbing—you’re practically keening, fingers entangling themselves in his blonde locks as your back arches against the table. 

Your orgasm builds quickly, much to your further embarrassment, his name coming out in broken gasps. It crashes through your veins in a wave of white-hot pleasure that has your eyes rolling back, your body trembling as you cum on his lips. 

“Oh my god.” You choke out, chest heaving loudly, your heart thrumming in your ears. 

You’re spread out the table with an utterly fucked out expression across your face, cunt dripping as Aventurine slowly pulls away, eyes roving over you. His finger flicks out to wipe away a stray tear that falls down your cheek. 

He’s then climbing on top of you, shedding the outer layers of his coat—and it’s not long until he’s pulling you into a heated kiss, chasing your lips. You can taste the remnants of your sweet release on his tongue, forcing its way between your teeth and licking at your mouth. 

It’s hot, too hot. 

“… fuck, don’t look at me like that.” He mutters between breaths as he takes a moment to truly take you in. “Please, gods, let me fuck you.” 

It’s inviting. He thinks maybe you look prettier when you cry, his name pushing past your lips. You wanted more—you were too far gone to act as though you weren't eager to experience everything he had to offer, your own desires having overcome you. 

He unbuckles his belt, letting it slip to the floor with a clink. He would’ve made you beg for it, but how could he deny himself when you were right here in front of him like that? 

His hands move over your body, smoothing up the skin of your thighs, pulling them farther apart. Your eyes flutter shut as you swallow back a gulp, your breaths shaky and haggard as he pushes himself into you. You bury your face in the crook of your neck as if to stifle your cry, a groan rumbling in his own chest. 

“Look at me baby.” He gasps, pulling you from his chest, fingers tangling themselves in your hair, violet irises dancing, as he rolls his hips against yours and you moan. He didn’t think you could make such a beautiful noise, lips crashing against yours as if poised to devour the essence of your being completely. 

He could think himself truly enamoured by you in the height of his pleasures. You’re dancing in the palm of his hands, tits bouncing up and down as he thrusts into you, letting that sweet, sweet melody of your pleasure fill his ears, pushing any coherent thoughts from Aventurine’s mind. 

Your own mind is equally blank, you’re numb, shaking all over as he continues to slam his cock into you, gasping as his fingers dig into your thighs. A cry escapes you, your legs trembling, as the knot in your stomach seems to tighten with each movement of his. He’s grown rougher, faster. 

“Mm you’re beautiful.” He kisses along your neck, as you wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his back amid a muffled sob as he continues, settling into a steady pace. 

At this point you’ve begun to lose count of the times he’s abused your cunt, your vision blurring as a sudden orgasm crashes through you, the knot in your stomach growing taut—then snapping, without so much of a warning, as his cock hits that sweet spot of yours, one that has you seeing stars. 

It’s so much all at once. Pleasure rips through you like a tidal wave, painting your mind in a foggy haze. It’s shamefully fulfilling as you ride out your high.

He fucks you through your release, your first, and then every other one that follows, in chase of his own, your walls growing tighter and more desperate. Your cries become higher and higher in pitch—you’re practically keening with your head thrown back, eyes rolling to the back into your head. 

His pace grows sloppy, his words coming out between gasps against your ear. His eyes are equally unfocused, strands of blonde hair sticking to the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, as he loses himself in the pleasure of your soft cunt. His breathing is ragged, chest heaving as his hips stutter. 

With one final thrust, he spills into you with a sigh. You feel him twitch inside, warm liquid painting your walls and dripping down the inside of your thighs. His head drops down, slumping over. 

You have little to no idea how long you two lie there for, catching your breath as the rush of the moment dissipates, both of you equally spent. Your mind is in no better state, a good deal of time passing before you can even think clearly enough to be stirred to action. 

Eventually, he lifts a hand to guide your legs off him, settling your trembling limbs back down on the table, almost like dead weights. 

He gets up quickly, pulling up his pants, the clink of a belt being refastened as he fixes up his clothes. He pats his pockets, looking for something, as you watch bleary eyed from your position. 

“Here.” Aventurine slides a black card across the tabletop a moment later. 

You blink dazedly, confused. 

He smirks. 

“I don’t make deals that don’t pay off.” 

[lupinsweater]

Teacher!James Potter x Single Mom!Reader 💌 1.3k words

thank you to @moonpascal to beta reading for me!

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

You hated running late to things.

It wasn’t your fault this time- Charlie’s sitter had been a few minutes late, and then he had thrown a tantrum about you going to his school without bringing him along. You tried explaining over and over that it was just a boring meeting for grown-ups- no fun, no snacks, and nothing he'd enjoy- but Charlie wasn't having it. Eventually, the sitter lured him away with the promise of cartoons, and you finally slipped out the door, already running five minutes behind. Cursing to yourself as you started your car, you did your best to avoid breaking any traffic laws as you hustled to the school. You made it there in record time, parking your car and running into the building. You weren’t sure what to expect from parent-teacher night, but Charlie has been talking about his teacher, Mr. Potter, non-stop since school started.

You were grateful for the signs as you navigated down the hall and into your son’s classroom. There was a small table outside the door with some empty name tag sticker sheets- one sticker was left, and Charlie’s name was written on it. You grabbed it and stuck it onto the front of your shirt, then nervously smoothed out your shorts, mentally slapping yourself for not putting on something a little nicer. You slipped through the cracked classroom door, trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

The other parents were seated at the tiny desks, chatting amongst themselves. At the front of the room, a tall, broad-shouldered man was laughing with a couple of parents. His dark curls were slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through them a few times too many. He wore a light blue shirt, the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows in a way that showed off his surprisingly muscular arms, and he was gesturing animatedly as he talked. He must be Charlie’s teacher.

“Ah! Mrs. Y/L/N, right?”

The moment you heard his voice, your heart skipped a beat. He was looking right at you, his smile wide and genuine. You weren’t expecting to be called out like this, especially not in front of a room full of people. He made his way over to you, his eyes lighting up as if he was greeting an old friend.

“You must be Charlie’s mom!” he said, his voice full of energy. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

For a second, you were thrown off by his friendliness. Most teachers you’d met were polite, sure, but there was something different about him. Something warmer.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you replied, chuckling awkwardly as you offer your hand. “And it’s just Ms, actually. No other parent.”

“Oh, sorry! James Potter,” he said, shaking your hand with a firm but friendly grip. His eyes lingered on yours for just a beat longer than you’d expected. “But you probably already know that from Charlie. I swear, the kids are better at introducing me than I am. They’ve got me pegged already, bad jokes and all.”

You laughed, feeling your shoulders relax a little. “Charlie hasn’t mentioned any bad jokes yet, so I think you’re safe.”

James grinned, flashing a playful look. “Good to know. I’ve got a reputation to protect, after all.” His tone was light and teasing, but there was an easy confidence in the way he talked. “I hope he’s told you at least one good thing about me. I’ve been trying to bribe them with extra recess, so my odds should be good.”

“He’s been pretty complimentary, actually. I don’t think you need the extra recess,” you said with a small smile, putting your hands in your pockets. His eyes followed your movements slightly, but they focused back on your face quickly.

“That’s a relief,” James said softly, smiling at you like you were sharing a secret. “Though, knowing Charlie, I’m sure he’s a tough critic. He’s one of those kids who doesn’t miss a thing.”

“That sounds about right,” you replied, smiling. “He knows me better than I know myself. And he’s always asking questions.”

James grinned. “Same here. He’s a curious one—loves to figure out how everything works. I love that about him. Honestly, kids like Charlie make teaching fun. It keeps me on my toes.” You smiled as he continued. “But listen, if he ever asks me to explain quantum physics, I’m sending him right back to you. That one’s above my pay grade.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, I’m not even sure I could handle that one.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page.” He winked, and there was something about the way he did it that caught you off guard—like he’s flirting, but in a way that feels easy and unforced. “How are you holding up? I know kindergarten can be a big adjustment for parents, too,” James said suddenly.

You blinked, surprised by the question. You weren’t prepared for him to be asking about your wellbeing too. “I’m managing,” you said with a small smile. “Work’s been busy, so…”

“Tell me about it,” James interrupted seriously, feigning a winded look. “I swear, I’m late to my own classroom half the time. You should see me in the mornings—I’m running around like a headless chicken just trying to beat the bell.”

You laughed again, feeling more comfortable. “Really? I’d peg you as a guy who has it all put together.”

“Ha! If only,” he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “Trust me, it’s all smoke and mirrors. But hey, as long as I’ve had my coffee, I’m halfway there.”

The way he talked—so easy and natural—made you forget you were in a room full of other parents, some of whom were probably annoyed by your ongoing conversation. He wasn’t just making small talk; he was making you feel like you belonged there, like you weren’t just Charlie’s mother, but someone worth knowing.

“I get it,” you said with a sympathetic smile. “It’s hard enough being a single mother. I can’t imagine being in charge of that many five year olds, even if it’s only for part of the day.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re doing an amazing job,” James said, his voice softening, and suddenly, you realized how closely he was looking at you. You felt yourself blush as he said, “Charlie’s a special kid, and that’s all you.”

You weren’t used to compliments like that. Especially not from someone who was looking at you the way James was at that moment. “Thanks,” you managed, your voice a little quieter than before. “That means a lot.”

“Of course. And, hey, if you ever need an extra hand—or someone to vent to about the chaos of kindergarten life—you know where to find me,” James said with a lopsided smile. His tone was light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered, something that made you feel like he was genuinely offering more than just a teacher’s support.

You felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Was he… interested? Or were you reading too much into this?

Before you could dwell on it, James clapped his hands together and turned to address the rest of the room. “Alright, folks! Let’s get this show on the road. I promise to keep it short, but if you’ve got any good stories to share, I’m all ears. I’m a sucker for a good tangent.”

The parents chuckled, and you found a seat, still feeling the warmth from your conversation with him. James was everything you had hoped he would be—open, friendly, funny. And the way he looked at you…you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something in your life was about to change.

[theemporium]

cuddling up with best friend nico while doing a christmas movie marathon. maybe leads to something more 👀

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“It’s a classic!” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s good.” 

Nico’s lips parted, his brows furrowing together a little as he watched you walk back in from the kitchen. “How can you hate Home Alone?” 

“I don’t hate it,” you corrected, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you dropped into the seat next to him. “I just don’t think it’s the best Christmas movie.”

“So you hate it,” Nico retorted, not bothering to hide his grin as he reached for the bowl of popcorn in your hand, only to pout when you pulled it away. “Hey, that’s mean.”

“Don’t give me those sad cow eyes,” you murmured, already moving to lay the bowl on the couch between you whilst he pressed play on the movie. 

It was barely nine in the morning when Nico had messaged you to come over. It was a rare rest day in December with no practices for another two days. He had every reason to just laze about, let his body rest and enjoy the break before the next stint of games wrecked his body. And the rest day made it easy to slip in your annual tradition of a Christmas movie marathon. 

It started a few years ago, early in his career when Nico was still adjusting to life in North America and the various references that didn’t always travel across the ocean. It started off as an exchange, you showing him movies you considered classics whilst he did the same, and it sort of just stuck. 

“You’re hogging the snacks,” you grumbled as you tried to reach for the bag of chocolates in his hand but he held them away. “Now look who’s being mean.”

“You have your own,” he pointed out, waving halfheartedly at the mess on the table. Somewhere amongst the wrappers were a random pack of Hershey kisses you bought on your way over. You had barely eaten two before shoving the pack on the table. 

“Yeah but your fancy Swiss chocolate is nicer,” you all but whined, your head thrown back on the couch as you looked towards him. His parents tend to send a massive care package around the holidays and usually Nico was quite accommodating and willing to share.

“It is,” he nodded, grinning. “That’s why I have it.”

“Rude.”

“Come and get it if you want it so bad.” 

You stared at each other for a few moments before you moved, already sprawled halfway across his lap as you tried to reach for the bag of chocolates in his hand. Nico’s laugh was bright and boisterous as he wrapped one arm around your waist to try to hold you back, the other stretching out as far as he could. You tried wiggling closer, your legs almost straddling him but his arm kept you locked in place.

“I’ll stop if you share,” you told him, panting slightly as you looked down to find him already staring at you.

He swallowed harshly, his arm squeezing your waist tighter. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

Almost subconsciously, your eyes dropped to his lips.

You opened your mouth, his name on the tip of your tongue but he swallowed the sound as he pressed his lips against yours, muffling whatever you were about to say. You sunk into the embrace embarrassingly quick, your hands gripping his shoulders as he pulled you closer.

“Gonna share now?” You questioned, breathless and whispered against his lips.

His lips twitched upwards before he leaned back in. “Maybe in a little bit.”

.

[pearlsinmyhair]

no labels.

slight nsfw. fem!reader. cursing! mdni. use of ‘my girl’. slightly (if you squint) possessive behavior (hobie calls you his)

hobie doesn’t believe in labels. they’re trite, used by society and the government to define you before you have the chance to. to manipulate you into being something that they want you to be. to make you controllable.

so he doesn’t bring them into his relationships. he’s a rockstar, so he’s had his far share of flings behind the stage. both boys and girls have gotten on their knees for him. even those who have chosen not to apply a gendered term to themselves have, too. but he never cared to call them anything before.

the ‘what are we?’ question has always made him want to keel over. commitment held him down. so he brushed it off, explaining how he didn’t believe in consistency and that he just needed to let off some steam.

he knew that it was a dick move, but he could never find it in himself to care.

and then he met you, and something in his brain switched.

he ignored it the first time he saw you, jumping amongst the crowd at one of his gigs. that draw, the pull that made him want to lean over the edge of the stage and kiss you.

for a few weeks after, you were all that was in his head. it didn’t matter how many cold showers he took, or how loud he blasted his music, or how hard he head banged. you were always there, dancing right behind his eyelids.

because he wanted you to be his, his and his alone. which was off, because this was him we were talking about. hobie brown, who swore off labels years ago.

if you hadn’t shown up to his next gig he would have been fine. maybe this was withdrawal and he could recover.

but there you were again, leaning against the guardrail front and center of the audience.

and he was fucked. so hard that he actually missed a few cues from his band mates. they nearly beat his ass for it after the show, but his drummer told him that a friend of a friend knew you, and he gave him your number.

and it was all history after that.

you never asked ‘what are we?’ you never had to. he assured you constantly, in his own hobie way, that you were loved, protected, and cared for.

hickies on your neck, his battle vest on your shoulders, his rings on your fingers. at some point you got a pretty little ‘h’ pendant to wear on a silver chain and he fucking lost it. seeing the letter of his name sittin pretty right between your breasts did something to him.

he never used the term ‘girlfriend’. that was a little too conformist for him. no, instead, he introduced you as ‘my girl’. to his band, to his fans, to his friends.

and alone, he was the same way. when you were tangled up in his sheets, squealing with each harsh snap of his hips, he grunted mine. when he couldnt make it to the bed after a hard mission, making love to you against the counter, humming your name like a prayer. when he gave you head, or you gave him head, and he was his noisy self whining his praise.

because you were his. and he was yours.

an- there’s more below the cut, but i’m actually pretty uncertain about how i wrote it. i don’t want to delete it, but i’m 50/50 about it so i’ll just hide it.

and with that change came more.

he hated valentine’s day. he hated how capitalistic that shit was, even refusing to turn on the tv just so he didn’t have to see the ads. and you laughed, because it was hobie.

so when the morning of the oh so wretched day came and he pressed a goodbye kiss to your forehead while you were still in bed, you thought it would be a normal day.

and when he knocked at your window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bag of your favorite food you were more than surprised.

“had to show my girl some extra lovin.” he murmured against your neck when you let him in.

you hugged him close, mumbling “thank you, but are you high? what have you done to my hobie.”

and he just smirked against your skin. “what can i say, love, you make me forget myself sometimes.”

and hobie, who doesn’t believe in consistency, always kisses you goodbye, no matter who leaves first. one time he missed it and he knocked on the window of your college class. the whole class had snickered when you ran out the room to find him. he met you in a dark alleyway between buildings.

“had to get my goodbye kiss, sweets. can’t be lettin’ my girl feel lonely.”

or how he always, always texts you on long missions. your locations don’t exactly share across dimensions, so he settles for little ‘hey baby, i’m alright. found a place to calm down. all good.’ and you wait for him. and when he comes home he always rocks your world.

because you’re his girl. labels be damned. and he’s your boy.

and he doesn’t need anyone telling him how to love you.

want to check out more of my work? click here!

[psink]

Rainy season anime artwork translation:

A complicated chuunibyou guy

Kaidou Shun

(Voice Actor/ Shimazaki Nobunga)

Kusuo’s classmate that everyone knows is a chuunibyou. However because he’s shy, serious and pure-hearted by nature, he can’t maintain his chuunibyou persona.

⏴In the work, his chuunibyou sometimes causes problems for Kusuo, but in reality, he’s a good and timid child. He thinks of Kusuo, Nendou and Kuboyasu as important friends. Hopefully he’ll never lose this innocence.

Guy with a complicated love for his younger brother

Saiki Kuusuke

(Voice Actor/ Nojima Kenji)

Saiki Kusuo’s older brother, a genius mad scientist with an IQ of 218. Has a fetish for challenging his younger brother and getting defeated. He messes with Kusuo at any opportunity. 

⏶Contrary to his handsome looks, his real nature is quite disappointing. He’s an extreme masochist (however, this is limited to only Kusuo).

Complicated clingy guy

Akechi Touma

(Voice Actor/ Kaji Yuuki)

A logical and talkative transfer student who came to Kusuo’s class. He talks rapidly like a machine gun without reading the atmosphere of his surroundings. He suspects that Kusuo is a psychic. Although he was once deceived, he persistently continues to investigate Kusuo.

Guy who attracts complicated people

Saiki Kusuo

(Voice Actor/ Kamiya Hiroshi)

A high-school student who can control various psychic powers. In order to keep his abilities secret, he lives maintaining a moderate distance from those around him. His favorite food is sweets, he especially loves coffee jelly. 

⏶Although Kusuo almost never voluntarily expresses his emotions, he shows a blissful smile whilst tasting sweets. Is this cute contrast also a point that attracts people around him!?

⏶⏵In addition to Kaidou, other members of his troublesome group include the strongest idiot Nendou Riki (Voice Actor: Ono Daisuke and the delinquent Kuboyasu Aren (Voice Actor: Hosoya Yoshimasa), whose trouble-causing abilities are immeasurable. Despite that, they're also lovable guys that you can't hate.

(Kusuo’s left shoulder text)

The cheerful, sunny spring has passed and the rainy season has already arrived. Our handsome psychic, Saiki Kusuo, is on his way home whilst avoiding the scattered rain with his telekinesis, but there are people approaching him. His brother, Kuusuke, his classmate, Kusuo and the transfer student Akechi - these three people. Amongst them, Akechi, because of his natural quick thinking and good insight, seems to suspect Kusuo is a psychic!? With the intensity of either a devoted wife or a stalker, he clings to Kusuo and tries to reveal his secret by showering him with machine gun-like talk……Will Kusuo manage to avoid them like the rain and return the clear skies to his heart?

(Kusuo’s right shoulder text)

Just as his older brother, Kuusuke, is coming to pick him up with coffee jelly in one hand, Kaidou, struck by the rain, is showing off his chuunibyou. The transfer student Akechi invites Kusuo under his umbrella, too. Their attention-seeking offensive is even more persistent than the rainy season, how will Kusuo endure it!?

(Big text on white background)

A rain of love from the complicated people pours down intensively on

Kusuo☆

Heart-pounding regretful rain☆

QUESTION

If you were to share an umbrella with someone, who would it be?

Kamiya: Teruhashi-san. Her charm, which causes even the God to be her ally, makes me want to try saying 「offu」 as well.

Shimazaki: Of course, it’d have to be Teruhashi-san!!! Offu!!!

Saiki Kusuo’s Voice Actor

Kamiya Hiroshi-san 

Interview 

The 2nd season of 「Fierce Argument」. 

—If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season using four-character idioms or similar expressions, what would they be?

Kamiya: 「Fierce Argument (Editor’s note: The sound of swords clashing violently. Also, the state of engaging in heated debate)」 I feel that the degree of this is gradually increasing compared to the 1st season.

–Kamiya-san, please tell us a particular「Kusuo’s charm point」 that you’d like to recommend right now.

Kamiya: I don’t know much about Kusuo, but anyway, Teruhashi-san’s cuteness is a big charm of this work. 

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kusuo.

Kamiya: Kusuo is usually cool and it’s hard to read his emotions, but sometimes during particularly intense situations, he strongly interjects with 「You idiot!」, which is fun for me too.

–Kusuo is always extremely popular regardless of gender, Kamiya-san, if you were in his position, what would you do?

Kamiya: If each of them stays with me with the awareness that we're friends, then I will gratefully accept that.

Kaidou Shun’s Voice Actor

Shimazaki Nobunaga-san

Interview

Right now, I’m at my peak chuunibyou stage in life.

–If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season from a  chuunibyou perspective, what would that be?

Shimazaki: 「Jet Black Twilight - Ragnarok of Chaos」 Reason: it just sounds cool!

–Shimazaki-san, please tell us a particular 「Kaidou’s charm point」that you’d like to recommend right now.

Shimazaki: I find the contrast between Shun in his full-blown chuunibyou Jet-Black Wings mode and his natural self, who is a bit of a coward but is honest and caring about his friends, to be appealing.

–Shimazaki-sama, if you discovered a completely soaked Kaidou on a rainy day, what would you do?

Shimazaki: I’d protect him!!!

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kaidou.

Shimazaki: In the 2nd season, episode 4 of episode 8x, the loop episode 「Another Time Leap Challenge! I remember saying the same line over and over again like a broken record, it left a very strong impression on me. It was fun!

–Kaidou is still in full-blown chuunibyou mode, but Shimazaki-san, when were you the most chuunibyou-like in your life? 

Shimazaki: Right now. I seriously imagine using magic and saving the world every day.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Chapter 40 SUPER ROUGH SNIPPET

disclaimer: this is in the early rough stages so a lot of things are missing! But enjoy!

“You know for someone who claimed he had no time to spare for picking up his shipments, he sure is moving leisurely now, isn’t he?” Cepheus commented as the pair watched the group of nobles and servants come to what must’ve been their fifth stop near a glowing wallflower bush.

“That’s just the way people with power work,” Asha murmured as she sighed. 

“Or people who have more scents than sense, which full offense seems to be a running trend amongst your nobles.”

“Not all of them,” Asha argued back. “Some of them were and are quite reasonable when you get to know them. It’s just the bad ones who tend to have the furthest reach…”

“I take it that he’s one of the bad ones?’ Cepheus asked.

“He’s…well…he’s never been particularly kind to me,” she confessed. “Before I met you he scolded me for suggesting that something was going on with the forest. He rushed me when I tried to tell anyone else, and he’s always had this habit of making me feel…really small.” she confessed as the nobleman in question handed Lady Camille another flower before laughing. “It’s strange seeing him be nice to anyone-,”

“Hmm”

“What? What are you thinking?”

“Nothing really other than the fact that from what you’re telling me, he may be one of the most backstabbing, two-faced, air-wasting, disgusting, self-centered, heartless, inconsiderate bastards I’ve ever heard of!” the star smiled. “I’m impressed!”

“What?! What is there to be impressed about?”

 “I mean, all in all I know some bad, even terrible people to! So that’s something coming from me!”

“Terrible?” Asha frowned. Why would a wishing star know so many terrible people? Hadn’t he said that she was his first wisher? Granted she knew that there were apparently other people in space, but still. Why was the star keeping questionable company?

It was one thing for her grandfather to keep it but for the star-

Should she even be trusting him?

No, Cepheus was her friend! He had just saved her life. If she couldn’t trust him then, who could she trust?

“Yeah, what? Don’t tell me that you haven’t come across your fair share of terrible people. In terms of terrible nobles, where would you rank this guy?”

“I…I don’t know…I..I try not to think about him, more than I have to.”

“I see…”

“Asha, can I talk to you about something?”

“What is it?”

“Earlier you asked me whether I had stories about regular people doing regular things…Did my stories make you…uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not! It’s just that…” she paused, shaking her head as she looked down. “You’re probably tired of hearing it over and over. I’m sorry.”

“No, Asha, you’ve been burying these feelings deep within you for so many years. You can’t keep doing that forever, at some point in time you have to let it out. If not for me, then at least for yourself. Please Asha, let me help you.”

He was begging now. Something that shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did.But As much as she hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words.

She bit her lip, slowly tugging at her braids as she hurriedly confessed,  “You see it’s one thing hearing those stories as myths and whatnot,” she cautiously began as she kept her eyes focused on her feet. “Because they don’t feel real, but then, it’s another to know that it’s real and that things like that can really happen…that legacies like this do and can exist and that they can result in wonderful things for some people.”

When he didn’t speak, she continued, feeling a bit braver than before as her face burned. “I know I’m being petulant. But… it’s just so hard living in a world where some people are blessed to worry about the after of achieving their dreams…when you can’t even be good enough to have them…”

“You think it’s petulant to be angry that life hasn’t dealt you a fair hand?”

She bowed her head as she brushed away a few stray tears. “No it’s just that!” she took a deep breath. “I…I know I should be stronger about it, I mean I live in a kingdom whose motto is to make impossibilities reality! And it’s true. Not a lot of kingdoms would have a prince who falls for a cook, or peasants who just so happen to be born with wonderful powers, but mine does.So, when I met with the king’s advisors turned my proposal down because the number of people like me…is statistically insignificant.”

She sniffled, as more tears seemed to escape her. “I only asked the question I did because I just hoped that being from a world of immortals, that maybe…just maybe you guys might see me differently. That me being in your world might be different, but I’m not sure.”

“What kind of legacy am I going to leave behind Cepheus? I’ve nearly died twice today! And my father…” she shook her head. “there’s nothing left for me in this world…”

“Then come to mine.”

“What?” 

“If this world never appreciated you, then maybe it never deserved you to begin with.”

“Deserved me?” she laughed as she shook her head. “Isn’t that a pretentious assumption?”

“Is assuming that everyone is entitled to basic decency a pretentious assumption?”

“Well no-,”

“I admit I don’t know anything about humans, but even I can see that what that man, your father’s supposed best friend is doing to you isn’t right.” the star quickly added as she cringed. “Do you really think if he cared for you or if that he was a good man that you’d be begging me to erase your very existence? Or you’d be saying that if you died no one would miss you? Asha that’s not right-,”

“But it’s just the way things are,” she sniffled. “In your stories and real life. No one ever cares for the little people like me.”

“I do!” he retorted. “I care for you and if you let me I could show you just how wonderful you are!”

“Wonderful,” she whispered, before looking away. “Am I really wonderful?”

“You are to me.”

She scoffed, weakly staring at the sky. “Why do you care so much for me anyway?” 

“It’s because we’re friends silly,” he smiled, repeating her words. “And this is what friends do for each other, right? They help each other out!”

“I know…” she sadly nodded, unable to understand the strange disappointment filling her at his words. She took a steadying breath, as she whispered.  “But what if I disappoint you and the other stars? Everything will be the same, just like how it is on earth and in those stories -,”

“Not this one…please, Asha. Not every story ends this way. Yours doesn’t…”So many don’t. And not many are as glamorous or as happy as everyone makes it seem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Twins have always been seen as a special things amongst stars, some even consider a blessing of sorts.. It was the reason why, when even after Betelguese had broken off his arrangement, that most of the crimson ones resented Deneb and her children for it. They thought it was an insult from fate itself.”

“Maybe they were onto something,” Asha replied. “Every time she opposed them things always worked out for her in the end so-,”

“Well yes but things weren’t that simple. You see after Rigil and Sirius had been born, Alhena had twins… Polaris and Cassiopeia but the process had been so grueling that she died shortly after they were born.”

Asha paused. There had to have been some irony interwoven into the story of an ambitious star who, when on the verge of finally ascending had only fallen victim to the circumstances she’d so desperately sought. It had been a story she’d seen and heard countless times on earth before. It was only strange to hear a star falling to it as well.

“A lot of stars suspected her death to be of foul play, as Deneb was no stranger to placing spies or even assassins within her enemy’s courts, and given how rumors of the midwife’s incompetency and strange methods ran rampant at the time, most suspected that she’d tried to kill Betelguese’s children.”

“Did she?” Asha whispered. “Would she really kill little stars like that?”

“I don’t know…I don’t think anyone ever discovered the truth…the midwife didn’t last long after that… but the repercussions were severe. Both Sirius and Rigel’s childhoods were fraught with danger…”

[upsidedownmvnson]

much more interesting things | eddie munson

summary: you're stuck in a rut, and starting to hate your crappy high school friends. eddie helps you see that there are better, more beautiful things out there - he just didn't expect you to think that he was one of them

warnings: underage drinking, shitty ex bfs and friends, cheating ex

a/n: i started this and finished it in like 4 straight hours, replies & comments appreciated, i love feedback fr

Eddie sees you sitting alone in a large group of people.

He recognizes most of them from high school, but he can't put any names to faces. He'd only been graduated a year, but it was like he had no memory of that place, or those people. Trina? Tina? That party girl who hosts that crazy Halloween bash every year... and... uh, Carol? Was that Carol sitting there? No idea.

But he doesn't really care, because he's busy noticing you, and the way you pick at the label on the beer bottle, focusing your gaze on your fidgeting fingers. He notices how you're so ridiculously beautiful. He notices the way you mouth every word to the local musician playing a Johnny Cash cover. But most of all, he notices the smile that doesn't reach your eyes. He notices how you keep looking behind you to the door. Waiting for someone? Or planning an escape? He can't quite tell, but he was dying to find out.

Steve smacks him on the arm, whispering something, and Eddie has to tear his eyes away from you. Robin and Nancy shared a look between themselves, and then looked over at the girl who had Eddie's attention. They started whispering amongst themselves.

"What?" he asks, looking over at Steve, not having heard a word he said.

"I asked if you were ready to go?" Steve repeated, rolling his eyes.

He's not. Eddie is so... intrigued by you that he feels the need to stick around. See who you're waiting for, or hiding from, or ... he doesn't know. Eddie's not even sure what he's expecting.

"You go," he answers after a long minute, "I'm gunna grab another drink at the bar."

"We can stay longer," Nancy suggested, smiling at Eddie, and sneaking another peak at you.

"No, it's okay," Eddie smiled, letting his eyes fall back on you. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

And then they left, saying their goodbyes to their friend and paying their bills, heading off into the parking lot while Eddie took a new seat at the bar. He sat facing away from you, not wanting to be a complete creep, but there was just something that kept him around.

You wanted to leave. This whole idea was stupid, you were stupid for agreeing to it.

A month ago, your best friend had started dating your ex-boyfriend. She didn't exactly ask you if it was okay, she just dropped it on you and expected you to be okay with it. But you were realizing, sitting here celebrating his birthday, that you absolutely were not.

What kind of friend was she, anyway?

You tried pushing passed it, but as you sat their, watching all your other 'friends' laugh and giggle as Tina and Reed climbed all over each other.

It was clear that most of them had known about this little affair long before you had. You needed a drink...

You brought your beer bottle up to the bar, putting all the little pieces of paper you'd ripped off it inside of it. You leaned against the counter beside Eddie, looking over and watching as he chugged a sip of his beer. You watched his adam's apple bob as he drank, but you saw that he was watching you. You thought maybe you'd been him watching earlier too, when his friends were still there.

"Eddie, right?" you said, using him as a distraction. He nearly choked on his beer.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered, "hey..."

"y/n," you said, smiling. It was refreshing, Eddie not knowing who you were. He wasn't one of the popular crowd, and you were honestly jealous of that. You wanted to fall away from them. You wanted to fall from grace.

"I knew that," he said, looking away, the lie clear on his features. But you weren't mad, you smiled.

"You didn't," you said, winking at him. How many drinks have you had? You felt the warmth and confidence radiating.

After showing the bartender your handy fake I.D, you ordered a beer and two shots, pushing one towards Eddie. He picked it up, looking at it for a moment, and then you, waiting expectantly to cheers it.

"You don't have to take it," you joked, "but could you let me know so I can put my arm down?"

He chuckled lightly, goofy grin taking over his cheeks, and he cheers you, downing the shot alongside you. It burned, but you liked it. You chased it with a sip of your beer, the bubbles making the linger sting fade.

You heard your friends calling you name, and you turned to see them giggling and whispering. You assumed it was because they thought hanging out with Eddie was slumming it.

"I guess I should get back," you said, your face showing your honest lack of interest.

"Why do you hangout with them if you don't like them?" he asked, and it was your turn to nearly choke on your drink. You coughed, surprised by the suddenly deep line of questioning.

"Who says I don't?"

He laughed, "you should get back, I'd hate to ruin the party."

"That party was ruined when it started," you mumbled, and he just laughed harder.

"Yeah you're right, I really feel the love."

You laughed, and he felt pride settle into his chest. The smile climbed all the way to your eyes, lighting them with a sparkle that made you even more beautiful than you already were. Eddie feels butterflies in his stomach, and he looks away, softly smiling at the beer in his hand.

Talking to Eddie was... fun, and returning to the table full of fake people with fake smiles was ruining that.

"What were you talking to him for?" Carol asked, boney fingers biting into your skin as she held your arm.

"Uh, because I was waiting for a drink and he was sitting there?" you asked, looking at her with a look like she was an idiot. Because she was - she was an idiot.

"Well, don't. He's bad news, and bad publicity."

"Unlike my friends here, who would never do anything to hurt me, right?" you asked, looking to where Reed and Tina were showing a disgusting amount of PDA. Why the fuck were you still sitting here.

"Don't be like that," Carol snapped, "it's not their fault they fell in love. They both felt really bad about it."

"How long have you known about them, anyway?"

Carol looked down at her lap, and Tommy, sitting nearby laughed obnoxiously.

"Go on, tell her." He kept laughing, especially when she hit him on the arm, because apparently everyone in the world was in on. "But tell her the truth..."

Tommy didn't care about the truth, he'd just had five beers and wanted to stir the pot. The people sitting close to you guys had gone quiet, no one willing to meet your eye, while Reed and Tina stayed oblivious to the whole scene, kissing each other like they were alone in her bedroom.

You chugged the beer in your hand, figuring this was probably the end of the party for you, you wouldn't make it through much more without snapping. "Yeah, Carol," you said, slamming the bottle down on the table, but still somehow, Reed and Tina stayed in their trance. "Tell me the truth."

"Three months..." she whispered, keeping her eyes locked on her lap. the table was silent.

"Nooooo," Tommy sing-songed, "I'm pretty sure I said the truth."

"Shut up, Tommy!" Carol snapped, glaring at him. Those two were not perfect for each other, and should probably break up. You grew impatient.

"What can be worse than my best friend going out with my ex right after we broke up?"

"How about fucking behind your back for two months before that."

Carol wouldn't meet your eye, Tommy was laughing, and Reed and Tina had these stupid, guilty pouts on their face like they expected you to never find out. You felt numb, like you should be more mad but you just... didn't care.

Eddie was right, you didn't even like these people.

Your eyes drifted over your shoulder to Eddie, where he was still sitting at the bar, eyes forward but you knew, you knew he was paying attention. He was nothing like anyone sitting with you at that table. He was perfect.

You slid out from the table, chair squealing loudly in the silence, as every looked at you. Fuck these people, fuck this group, fuck this place, and really really fuck Reed and Tina. You were over it, outta here, and moving on, but not before a glorious, "go to hell," that made your chest feel ten time lighter, like a load was suddenly lifted off of it, freeing you from the chains that these poisonous people kept on you.

You didn't storm out, or start crying, or even rush. You just stood up, put your coat on, and sauntered over to where Eddie was sitting, turned towards you and watching with a huge smile on his face, like he was proud of you, and honestly, you were proud of yourself.

"Wanna get out of here?" you asked, leaning beside him again, making sure those assholes could see you were still wearing a pretty smile.

Eddie grinned from ear to ear, saying "lead the way," before getting up and putting on his leather jacket.

Outside of the bar, you two walked silently for a minute. You still weren't even that broken up about it, you kinda suspected he was fooling around behind your back, and you always knew Tina was a shitty a friend, so this was just, what it was.

"Can I just say that was awesome," Eddie said, breaking the silence.

"You can," you smiled, trying to break your thoughts away from them entirely. "And you should."

"Those guys are jerks," he said, "you're better off."

"I know, right?" you laughed, "It's my fault really, I shouldn't have even shown up tonight. I should've ditched them months ago."

"What even was that? Those guys were all over each other the whole time. I don't even think they spoke to any of you after you sat down."

"How long were you watching, creep?"

Eddie blushed, looking down at his feet. You hit him with your elbow, showing him the smile you wore, assuring him that you're just teasing.

"That guy was my ex," you sighed, "and the girl he was with is supposedly my best friend."

Eddie laughed, "I'm sorry, it's not funny," he said, still laughing. "But that's insane."

"Tell me about it," you huffed, kicking a rock with your shoe. You weren't sure if you were leading, or if Eddie was leading, but you were just kind of walking down the dark sidewalk. You were kinda headed towards the elementary school. It was late, sure, but neither of you had a curfew to worry about. "But anyway it was his birthday yesterday, so everyone wanted to go out to celebrate. They're throwing a party at Tina's after, I think the whole school is going."

Eddie hummed in understanding, not really knowing what else to say.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear all about this," you said, "it was the hottest gossip last season."

"I don't really listen to that stuff," he said, shrugging. "I don't think I even really know who Reed is. I feel like Harrington knows him, maybe?"

You nodded. You liked this about Eddie. He didn't want to gossip, or spread rumours, and he didn't revel in other people's misery. He couldn't name the entire basketball team, but you could bet he knew all his friends birthdays, or like, their favourite snack.

Most of your friends nearly missed your birthday if you hadn't reminded them the day before. You'd been with Eddie five minutes, and your other group already could barely hold a light up to him. You can't remember why you hung out with them before, and you can't fathom why you'd never thought Eddie was cute until now.

"So what brought you to the bar tonight? I thought you guys went to that other spot, uh, The Hangout?"

"The Hideout," he corrected, "that's where my band plays. And Steve wanted to go here tonight. He likes the deep fried macaroni bites that you can apparently only get there."

"Ah, I see, so very important stuff."

"Very important."

It fell silent again, and you worried that you'd made a mistake. Like, maybe Eddie didn't want to be here. Like he felt bad for you or something.

"It's nice out here," he said softly, and you noticed he'd stopped a few steps back, you were too distracted by your anxiety to notice. You turned towards him, copying him by tilting your head back, looking at the star filled sky. It was peaceful, standing here with Eddie.

"Yeah," you agreed, letting the beauty of the night's sky clear your anxieties. You'd been so used to shitty friends, that you didn't know what is was really like to be treated nicely.

You were still looking up when Eddie came back into focus on you. You were beautiful. Like, really beautiful. He was kinda shocked when you first spoke to him, and he was totally floored when you asked him to leave with you, smile covered in sincerity and eyes filled with trouble. He knew the odds of this turning out well for him were slim, but he wanted to see it out anyway. You seemed different than the rest of them, and he was going to give you a chance to be.

Your hair was falling over your neck in a way that tempted him you reach out, and brush it over your shoulder.

Instead he looked at his feet, shuffling a rock around while he shook those thoughts out of his head. Obviously after a situation like that you were in a vulnerable state, and he wasn't going to be some jerk who took advantage of that.

"Safety infraction," he said, pointing at your shoe, and before he could stop himself, he was on one knee, tying your shoelace for you. He realized it was entirely dorky and weird to just start tying someone else's shoes, but it would've been weirder to stop.

But you didn't think it was weird at all. You thought it was sweet, and kind, and... well, it made you blush, the burning sensation was so prevalent you knew he'd be able to see it when he looked back up at you, and he did. Eddie took note of the fact that he'd made you smile, blush and laugh all night, without trying.

He thought... Eddie thought maybe there was a chance here, a chance for something special.

You were something special, and it baffled him that more people weren't aware of this. He was confused about how guys weren't throwing themselves at your mercy and declaring their servitude.

"Thanks," you said, smiling as he stood level with you again, and you noticed the light blush across his own cheeks.

"You're welcome," he said, and the two of you started walking again, letting a calm silence fall between you.

You were closer now, so close you could feel the odd brush of his knuckles against the back of yours, and you could hear his breath hitch every time. You wanted him to reach out and grab it, but he didn't.

"C'mon," you said, grabbing his hand and tugging him across the street, "I want to swing."

But neither of you let go once you were across the street. His hand was rough. Hard with callouses from years of guitar, but it was also warm, strong, comforting. You didn't want to compare him to Reed, you had no right to think of Eddie like this, but you couldn't help it. He was cute, and when you were sure he wasn't a rebound moment, you'd tell him.

Eddie didn't let go of your hand until you made it to the swing set, only releasing his grasp to climb onto the swing beside yours. Immediately, he kicked off, trying to swing as high as possible. You swung gently, feeling the breeze and enjoying the moment. Eddie's hair was flying around him wildly, and when he swung forward, all his hair trailing behind him, you could see the unadulterated joy on his face, and it made you smile. It made butterflies flip in your stomach, like a hundred of them were suddenly released into your chest.

"Watch me!" he shouted, jumping off the swing, only to land a few feet away in a thud, shouting a weird sound when he landed. It didn't sound good.

"Hey," you said, slowly down and getting off the swing. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah," he said, laying on his back and giving you a thumbs up. "Don't worry about ol' Eddie, he's resilient." But the squeal he let out when he tried to put pressure on his ankle betrayed him.

"Let me help you," you said softly, reaching down to help pull him up. He leaned heavily against you, resting his ankle down, only to wince. "Maybe you should sit down," you said, guiding him to a park bench nearby.

"I don't live far," he said, "through the yard and cut through the Masterly farm, then we're practically there." He coughed, "I mean, if you don't mind, you don't have to I can probably call Wayne at work, there's a payphone-"

"Eddie, stop, of course I'll help you," you said, smiling when he did, despite the pain he felt, he knew you were different. "Let's get you home."

The walk should've been ten minutes, but it turned into over half an hour, with Eddie's injury, he was walking at a snail's pace. He kept repeating how you didn't need to suffer this with him, but you wouldn't hear it. He was helping you in ways he wouldn't understand, just by being a kind presence, showing you that there are much more interesting things out there, way more interesting than some shitty friends.

The whole time you guys just talked. You told him about how you've been feeling lately, neglected and sad. And he told you about his mom and Wayne, and how he wants to pursue music.

At this point, you were sure it wasn't any kind of rebound thing.

When you got to the trailer park, he got quiet, hesitant, like he expected you to take off at the sight of his home. But you weren't fazed. You just helped him in without saying anything, sitting him on the couch.

"Can I take a look?"

"If you've got the stomach for it," he joked, hitting himself in the forehead when you looked away.

But you just laughed, slowly untying his shoe, trying to take it off without hurting him. He didn't say anything, just watched as you did so. He thought you would drop him inside and head out, bu here you were, sliding off his sock with the most gentle touch he'd ever felt.

"It's swollen pretty bad," you said, "ice?"

"I think we've got peas?"

You nodded, getting off the couch and bringing yourself to the kitchen. He watched you shuffle around in the freezer, followed by the drawers. He said nothing, just watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, relishing in the fact there was this work of art in his kitchen.

You finally found a clean dish towel, and wrapped the peas in it, bringing them over to your damsel in distress.

"Thanks," he said, unable to look away. you focused on his ankle, the purple bruise already covering the large bump on the side.

"I don't think it's broken," you said, "but maybe you should get it checked out by a doctor."

"Do you think it can wait until tomorrow? There's a nurse in the green trailer," he said, bashful, "she usually helps us out."

"Yeah, I think so."

It was quiet for a moment before he said, "do you think you would want to stay for a bit?" You both looked away, both suddenly shy and blushing.

"Yeah," you said, "you should really lay down though, and get some pillows under your leg."

"You can come in there," he said, sounding a little too eager. "Not like, for any funny business," he said, catching himself on his embarrassment, but taking solace in your little giggle. "We can just hang out."

"C'mon," you said, grabbing the frozen peas and helping him back up. You helped him into his room, asking where you could find him a pair of sweats to replace his jeans were, and throwing them over when you got them. You turned around, giving him some privacy. You saw his music, and decided to help yourself and put some low music on.

"Thanks again," he said, clearly struggling to undress and dress while laying down. "For helping me home, and- uh, and everything else."

"No problem," you said, shuffling your weight between your feet. "Can I look?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

While laying there, he looked devilishly good. You felt bad for his ankle, sure, but he'd taken his shirt off, his soft tummy on full display, and his legs were strewn between the white sheets, his good leg tucked under, but his bad leg bare, showing his grey sweatpants. His hair was messy, splayed over his neck and shoulders, and he looked good enough to eat.

"Can I sit?"

Eddie smiled, "of course," he said, shuffling over to make space for you.

It was later than you realized, and you were suddenly exhausted. Or maybe you were just justifying crawling into Eddie's bed at your first opportunity. You set up a few pillows under his leg, leaving none left for yourself, just one for Eddie.

"Take one back," he said, pulling it out from the stack. "You need one too."

"No, no," you pulled it out of his hands and returned it, instead opting to lay into his side, resting your head on his chest. You could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his breathing get faster. He smelled like freshly fallen leaves, cinnamon, and the faint smell of weed. It was intoxicating... "Is this okay?"

"It's perfect," he said, wrapping a hesitant arm around you, pulling him in closer to you, "absolutely perfect."

[purinfelix]

possibly, maybe i'm falling for you [pt. 2]- joao felix

summary: after almost a month of ditching shifts to avoid the new barista at work, you're forced to work a closing shift together with no way out ( read part 1 here ) w/c: 2.4k

a/n: okay if i'm being completely honest this isn't my best work and also ended up being way longer than i expected (but i'm on a roll tonight and ik if i don't finish this rn i never will sooo....) hoping this won't flop <//3

You had done a lot of stupid things in your life, but you were fairly sure this had taken the cake. Though part of you, the immature part was also slightly proud of how smart you had been about all of these - it was borderline genius.

You had spent the past month or so meticulously orchestrating your work schedule. Whenever the roster for the week dropped, you would scan over it obsessively, every name and every timeslot. If it wasn't to your hopes you'd immediately message your boss with some excuse - "Uni work is piling up.", "I need to catsit for a friend.", "Caught a nasty cold." - for why you wouldn't be able to make it. You were fairly sure she would catch on soon enough, but even if she did she still obliged and let you switch to another day. Was it tedious and a little more stressful than you'd like? Sure - but it was what you had resorted to, in order to avoid the new barista.

At first, you weren't entirely sure why you were going through all this effort after only working a single shift with him. He hadn't been that bad of a coworker, in fact, he was perfect. He managed to stay on top of orders and keep the station clean at the same time, a feat not many could achieve - and to top it all off, he was thoroughly polite.

But the more you caught yourself avoiding him, the more it started to click. Sure, it was annoying that he was basically perfect at his job and even more irritating that he got tips for just looking good, but even those weren't good enough reasons to hate him. It dawned on you throughout the weeks, with each shift you took without him - which was still full of people coming in to ask "Where that good-looking barista is?" - that you didn't really hate Joao at all. In fact, that couldn't be further from the truth.

The realisation dawned on you largely against your own will. You tried everything to combat it, tell yourself you couldn't possibly feel like that about someone you had barely spoken to, let alone your coworker. And strangely enough, avoiding him - which you had hoped would help you forget about him - only made it worse, giving you time to conjure up ridiculous thoughts about him, what he was doing, what he thought about you. Admittedly, you regretted slightly being so mean to him the first, and last, time you shared a shift.

If only I had a chance to apologise, then maybe it would be alright, you thought, turning over in bed before bringing up a hand to shield your tired eyes from the morning sunlight. As you soon learned, Joao tended to take a lot of morning shifts, which let you get used to the feeling of sleeping in. The soft ping of your phone alerted you though, to an unexpected notification from your boss.

Your eyes widened slightly when you opened it up to see her begging you to work tonight's closing shift, despite you knowing full well that he would be working as well. You knew you had wanted a chance to talk with him, but this had come far too soon. Already halfway through typing up an excuse, another message came through explaining that the staff who was meant to take it had dropped out, that it was an unexplainable emergency and that you'd really be helping her out by coming. You paused your frantic typing, letting out a soft sigh.

After all, you did have a duty to your boss and you'd feel guilty if you let her down now - even after her obliging all your ridiculous requests for shift changes. Slowly, you typed out your response before rolling onto your back, letting your phone fall somewhere amongst your crumpled bed sheets. All you could do now was get ready for work and hope it wouldn't be too bad.

The afternoon came far quicker than you had hoped and before you realised it, you were standing at the door of the cafe. Despite having grown a sense of comfort attached to this door and what lay beyond, having been an employee for so long, your heart twisted at the fact that you had let something as simple as a boy throw a wrench in that. You wiped your clammy hands on the sides of your shorts before reaching out a hand to the doorknob.

Through the frosted panes of the door you could just make out the foggy silhouette of the very boy you had been avoiding, as he busied himself with wiping down tables and clearing empty cups. For a moment, you felt bad for having avoided him all this time, because as he rushed back and forth there was a sense of loneliness in his actions. You recognised it, having worked many closing shifts alone in your earlier years, and soft guilt washed over you at the thought of him feeling the same isolation you had then.

"Hey," you said in unison with the tinkling bell at the top of the front door. You watched as Joao whipped his head around and his expression turned from one of slight boredom into a mix of surprise and relief.

"Oh, hey!" You walked slowly over to the employee entrance to the back counter and he followed quickly, seemingly eager to rid his hands of the several plates he was holding. "I didn't know you were working tonight too."

"Oh yeah sorry, the boss called me in last minute," you fixed your attention on the display case of cakes, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

"No, don't apologise. It does tend to get a little sad here alone," he laughed guiltily and you can only offer a sympathetic smile in response.

"Well I better-" you begin, gesturing to your bag.

"Oh yeah go ahead," he says, moving out of your way though he pauses for a minute - almost as if he's about to ask you a question, but quickly decides against it. You don't think much of it as you move past him into the employee room.

The first half of your shift passes by quickly with waves of customers keeping both of you busy in your respective areas. With each ring of the bell, alerting you to the arrival of a new customer, you felt a slight wash of relief knowing they had bought you a couple less minutes alone. You weren't sure why, but more than anything you feared the awkward silence that would inevitably fall once the two of you were alone.

And of course, with your luck, the stream of customers soon trickled out to just a handful of regulars finishing off the last of their meals. There was less than half an hour left until closing, and you felt your stomach churn with worry each minute that ticked past.

"It's been a while since we worked a shift together," comes Joao's voice from behind you, causing your stomach to drop. You hadn't been expecting the conversation to start so soon.

"Oh yeah, I've just been sort of busy," you laugh, hoping your excuse and attempt at a light-hearted tone do enough to dispel any more questions.

"It's funny though, every time I looked at the first roster and we'd be scheduled together, the next time I checked you would be moved." Maybe not.

"Really?" You're not the best at acting but you try anyway. "I guess it's just a coincidence."

"I guess." Hearing his mocking tone, you grab a hold of a rag and dash out from behind the counter to go clean a couple tables - anything to get away from him, and this conversation. But he's relentless, and you hear his footsteps as he begins to follow you.

Just in time though, the very last of your customers gets up from her seat and waltzes towards the counter, forcing him back to the register. You smile to yourself as he takes her payment, but this happiness is short-lived once you watch her walk out the door, leaving the two of you alone.

You continue wiping down the tables, starting with the ones as far away from him as possible.

"You need any help with that?" he calls out.

"Nope, I'm good."

"Alright."

It's almost painful how awkward this is, and the way you feel as though the last ten minutes have inched by excruciatingly slow. Once you reach the last of your tables though, you have no choice but to head back behind the counter and start cleaning there too. As you do, you're suddenly made aware just how little space there is for the two of you to pass by each other - and you end up accidentally pushing past his shoulder.

"Sorry," you mumble, though it comes out a little ruder than you'd expected. Suddenly though, you feel a slender hand wrap around your wrist, forcing you to drop the rag on the floor and spin around o face him. "What th-"

"Did I do something?"

His question comes so quickly, so suddenly - though you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been expecting it. For the first time since your last shift, you're forced to look Joao in the eyes, and a part of you is caught up by how beautiful they are, looking directly into yours. But another is more concerned with the almost painful pleading expression they hold, and your heart twists while your brain searches for a response.

"No, you didn't, you're actually a great coworker for what it's worth." It feels cathartic, to tell the truth after forcing yourself to speak the language of polite niceties.

"You know that's not what I'm talking about, I get tipped enough to know I'm a fine barista."

"Then why do you care what I think?" You try to wriggle yourself free from his grip but your feet stay planted where they are, almost paralyzed under his gaze.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Stop acting so stupid, you know exactly why I've been avoiding you!"

"Do you think I'd be here if I did? Do you think I would have prodded you with so many questions?!" His voice rises with each question, and it's almost as if he's speaking without thinking. "Do you think I would've begged our boss to roster us together if I did?"

He shrinks back almost immediately, realising what he's just said. "I-"

"You what?" He sighs.

"I had to get you to talk to me somehow, I knew you were avoiding me, I'm not that daft."

You pause, taking this in. This entire time you thought you'd just been serving yourself, and that he hadn't even given you a second thought - and now you're forced to realise that it's in fact the opposite.

"I didn't like that you were getting more tips than me," you sigh, voice tiny and confessional even though you know that isn't the full truth. And he does too.

"That can't be it."

"Well, what do you want to hear, huh Joao? That I don't like the way you push past me or how you're so easily friendly with our regulars?"

"No-"

"Do you think I don't like the way you wipe down the counter, or how you steam your milk?" You're not sure why you're raising your voice so much, but it's almost as if all the frustration from the past month has bubbled up to the surface.

"No!" He's yelling too, but strangely enough, it doesn't scare you at all.

"Then what? Tell me what you want to hear huh!"

"I want to hear you say you don't hate me!"

"God, you're such an idiot," you laugh, a mean and spiteful laugh as you throw your hands up in exasperation.

"Am I?"

"Yes!" you huff, "because clearly you've been too stupid to realise that I've been avoiding you because I like you!"

Shit.

You physically feel yourself recoil after hearing what you've said, and Joao does the same, his eyes widening and mouth dropping agape. The two of you stand there in a thick, tense silence for what feels like ages.

"You what?" his voice is tiny when he speaks again.

"Please don't make me say it again."

"You like me?"

"Yeah, no need to rub it in."

"Oh, thank god," he sighs, and the relief in your voice confuses you. You watch as his body finally relaxes, and he trudges over to lean against the cafe counter, rubbing his eyes with his hands like he has a headache.

"Excuse me?"

"Here I was, stressed out of my mind thinking the coworker I had a crush on was avoiding me because I had creeped her out or something." It's almost as if he's talking to himself.

"You what?!"

"Oh, and I'm the idiot here?" You resist the urge to hit him.

"You," you pause, almost not being able to believe what you're saying, "you like me too?"

"Is that not obvious?" he laughs, and you let out a scoff of disbelief as he stands up and closes the gap between the two of you. The cogs in your head finally start working to put the pieces together, but you're still a little shocked - even when you feel Joao's hand reach up to hold your chin.

"Now that we've cleared things up," his voice is low, causing your cheeks to heat up, "can I kiss you?"

He still has that innocent tone, and it almost reminds you of the way he asked you questions during his training session. A little unsure but still wanted to make sure he was doing everything right. You nod, and let out a gasp as you feel his lips on yours.

When you finally pull away, he holds you close, almost ready for a second when you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"What now?"

"We finish closing?"

"I mean, with us."

"You doing anything after this?"

"Don't think so."

"How about dinner, on me?" You roll your eyes at the smirk spreading across his face but nod regardless. Freeing yourself from his embrace, you go to pick up the rag you dropped earlier.

When you stand back up, Joao pulls you in once more for a quick peck, before pressing his forehead to yours.

"I'm guessing you won't be avoiding shifts with me anymore?"

[buckrecs]

Hello sera! May I please ask enemies to lovers with bucky please? I accept oneshots and series! Thank you!🫶🏻🤗

Enemies to Lovers

masterlist | req masterlist

here are some angsty (& hot) enemies to lovers 😏

* = contains smut

ONESHOT

Elevate Thy Hate by @babyboibucky

Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.

I’m With You by @youlightmeupfinn

You and Bucky are enemies, but share a common past. However, Bucky realizes he's in love with you upon watching the Winter Soldier in you unleash, resulting in him having to hurt you.

*we can’t stop, we’re enemies by @sinner-as-saint

After the events of the last battle against Thanos, you teamed up with Sam and Bucky to carry on your superhero duties. You got along with Sam just fine, he was a really good friend to you. Bucky however, was not. From constant banters, to unnecessary hand-to-hand combat, to purposely getting each other in trouble during risky missions, to being the main cause of Sam’s migraines; it was safe to say that you and Bucky considered yourselves to be each other’s nemesis. Although that soon changes when, courtesy of your silly banters, a certain mission goes slightly wrong - one which involves strong chemicals which, unbeknownst to you, were designed to mess with the brain and hormones, thus encouraging the need to breed and procreate amongst all those who inhale it...

pansies, pain, and other things about bucky by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

bucky bitchass barnes to the rescue by @/bucky-bucket-barnes

In an attempt to escape from hectic life as an Avenger, you decided to go out on a date. Unfortunately, you got stood up. While Bucky hates you, he hates seeing you embarrassed more and decides to fill in for your M.I.A. date.

*There’s Always One by @summerofsnowflakes

Every wedding has at least one couple that can't seem to keep their hands to themselves and with Tony's wedding a mere 18 hours away, Sam sets up a wager to see which unfortunate couple will fall into the trap.

the one where the protein shake plays matchmaker by @mediocre-daydreams

you and bucky barnes can find any reason to hate each other. new york can find any reason to believe you two are together. when steve asks you to do a co-interview with bucky, the two of you are barraged by dating rumors that you vehemently deny and it breaks bucky’s heart. do you really find the thought of being with bucky so revolting?

*until you ruined it by @gummydummy19

God you fucking hated him. You LOATHED him. Every single thing he did pissed you off.

*I Know Places by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

You hate Barnes, and Barnes hates you. Yet when you get injured on a mission, the lines of love and loathing are crossed... and the single bed Tony has at the safe house ends up being a benefit after all. 

The Thin Line by @stardustdreams-andcaffeine

Of one thing you were certain—Bucky Barnes hated you, and you hated him. How could you not considering the super soldier had made it his personal mission to make your life a living hell after you had been assigned to protect him? But there was someone after Bucky from his past, and now he was forced to work alongside you to stop them. And in the process, you would find out just how thin that line was between love and hate.

try to relax by @grippingbeskar

locked in a room with the winter soldier seems like the worst situation in the world. luckily, you bought a little treat to pass the time.

SERIES

*Stuk Wit U by @slyyywriting

You and Bucky don’t get along. Your fights have become too destructive so Tony and Steve decide that enough is enough.

*Snow by @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

Life As We Know It by @whitestarbucky

You had never disliked a person more than Bucky Barnes. But as the universe would have it, you were stuck with him. Under the same roof now after the tragic passing of your two best friends, their child was yours to take care of. With a complicated past plus raising a toddler, you both find yourselves needing to confront a few things before it tears the only family Sarah Rogers has left, apart. 

have i made you uncomfortable? by @marveliskindacool

you and Bucky hate each other. or do you?

A Half-Naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas by @urimaginespimp

you’ve gotten sick and Bucky takes care of you.

i hate you but by @buckybarnesthehotshot

bucky and y/n can’t stand each other, but y/n needs help with her sister’s kids.

*Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

Steve’s silly joke happened to inspire the best, or possibly the worst, idea Wanda had ever come up with — send James Buchanan Barnes and y/n on an all-expenses-paid honeymoon in Hawaii. the problem? they cannot stand to be around each other.

.

[waokevale]

Looks at you with my eyes sitting in front of you like I'm interrogating you (but it's actually a really nice cozy room). I have heard tale of this WXwood ship. Tell me what you find compelling about the ship I'm considering joining you in WXwood land. Literally just say words at me I'm listening

Alright, very well then, so I shall! 🫡

At first, I only shipped them ironically, because they seemed like the classic "opposites attract" trope, which I favor 👍

But then I got digging, and I realized they're not actually that different after all. In fact, they share plenty of common traits and interests. What many people overlook initially, is that neither of them is actually a black&white character. None of the DST cast is, to be fair. 🩶

So it was inevitable, I became enthralled with this ship and now it's probably my nr 1 of all time.

Here's a list of my reasonings and what I found out about these guys thus far (updated):

1. WX-78 is actually a bit of a softie if you spend some time reading through their quotes. They act tough and logical to presumably hide whatever ounce of empathy they have left, that didn't escape them completely. (But they're not doing too good of a job)

They either use this uncharacteristically soft tone or hide a kind gesture or well-intentioned thought behind robotically constructed sentences and insults.

Even when they are threatening someone/something, they're all bark no bite. They might be very rude, but most of the time they won't actually go through with what they say.

And of course, I don't think I need to show the quotes for machines or metallic structures, since WX-78 openly sees them as their family and acts basically the same as Wormwood does with his plant friends.

2. Speaking of, Wormwood isn't always an empathetic creature. He can sometimes be callous, apathetic and even have favorites amongst plants (and people too), though he doesn't directly state that. He also isn't as dumb as he portrays himself to be, he definitely knows something, but either has too limited English speaking skills or is actively choosing not to say much.

He often sobs or cries when a creature dies, but there are times he reacts with either "whoops", "oh" or "too bad" like it's a small inconvenience at best.

And those are only some of the examples. If you'd like I could always try and find more of these specific quotes at another time.

3. Despite seeming vastly different at first, they would eventually become good friends.

And why do I think that? Because WX-78 actually likes plenty of things that correspond with Wormwood!

Bees (If we were to go back to their previous quote I've shown). Fun fact, WX-78 has a lot of quotes where they express how much they like/respect bees! And since Wormwood blooms, there's countless of them surrounding him at those times. It's a welcome bonus while hanging out around him. (Though maybe not in Spring)

Their quote for green gem is: "PRESSURE AND IMPURITIES HAVE PRODUCED PLEASING PERFECTION" which is. well. Something.

They're very fond of pumpkins, describing them as: "IT HAS A PLEASANT SHAPE" while their seed as "IT IS A SOURCE CODE FOR PLEASING PLANTS" And guess who just happens to have a pumpkin skin ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

The lunar affinity. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume WX-78 was outright worshipping the moon. They have dozens of quotes describing how THE MOON IS SUPERIOR, INORGANIC AND GOOD, I wouldn't be able to fit all of them into this post, (just trust me on that). Regardless, they're still deeply attached to it. it wouldn't be surprising that, if they found out about this aspect about him, they'd become very fascinated with him, because c'mon, it's the moon, and he's from it!

Despite acting like it, WX-78 doesn't actually hate all organic life. Plants in particular, are actually some of the organisms they seem to hate the least. They're partial to potatoes and lureplants; the former because they say they can relate to them, and the latter because "AWW, IT'S JUST AS EVIL AS I AM". They even recognize the beauty of certain flowers, even if they say it in a mocking tone. So then, would it be too farfetched of a concept for them to grow to appreciate organic life with Wormwood's influence ?

And yeah, they might not like him at first due to the whole "Filthy Organic" attribute, but that's just how they are with everyone! And that's what we're here for! That slowburn! With the two of them getting to know each other and realizing they have shared interests and know similiar struggles!

Going back to Wormwood. His quote for the W.A.R.B.I.S armor and head gear suggests that he highly admires WX and would like to be strong like they are.

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Head Gear: "Just like robot friend!"

–Wormwood, examining the W.A.R.B.I.S. Armor: "Be strong, like robot friend!"

There's also his quote for the Nautopilot where he's the only one who shows genuine concern for WX-78's perturbation:

–WX-78, when examining the Nautopilot: THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA

–WX-78, when examining an active Nautopilot: I THINK THAT RIDICULOUS SCIENTIST IS TRYING TO KILL ME

–Wormwood: Robot friend doesn't like Pull Rock

5. The survivors' farming animation is quite charming, I certainly loved their small interaction there. They're also shown in the official Return Of Them vignette, farming on the side.

6.. I like the fact that one of them is afraid of water and the other of fire. Adds an interesting dynamic.

7. As @benzybenny mentioned, it's a cute idea that they could make each other's favorite foods. Wormwood has the resources for making a butter muffin practically instantly available, due to his Bee King and Berry Bush crafting skills. And WX-78 is perfectly fitted for the ruins, yes! Them fetching bananas (definitely only to spite the monkeys, not for Wormwood and Wendy specifically) sounds very plausible to me. 😁

8. They just work. Despite claiming they want to "DOMINATE ALL ORGANIC LIFE" WX-78 appreciates people who can stand up for themselves. I'd guess Wormwood would be a huge pushover at first, no doubt, but with their influence, he would certainly have to grow a spine (metaphorically speaking)

Likewise, WX-78 struggles to show kindness to non-robotic creatures, because they fear they might come off as WEAK and SENTIMENTAL. Things they loathe to expose about themself. Wormwood could help them show that it's okay to love organic friends and be nice to others! (sometimes at least.)

I'd say they balance out each other perfectly and that is quite rare to see in modern ships.

While they'd definitely struggle to get along at first, they'd surely grow fond of the other one day :)

I hope this convinced you. if not, I'll try and dig up some more stuff. Then again, keep in mind that there aren't many canon character interactions besides whatever crumbs we've got from their quotes and official animations.

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[memescomicswriting]

It's Nice to Have a Friend

Chapter 1: I Got Waisted Like All My Potential

Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.

Word Count 3.3k

Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned

Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, eventual smut

A/N: Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise!

Sereies Masterlist

Thinking back on her adolescence, Y/N divided it into two parts: the quiet time and the time she never had a moment alone. The first ten years of her life were spent as a privileged vagabond. She learned how to read airport terminal maps before she mastered her multiplication tables. It was a unique childhood, but she knew what it meant to be loved and understood that she was cared for. 

Her mother was of Valyrian descent, old money, the old country. Her father’s family accumulated wealth as members of the merchant class. They weren’t nuevo riche as their status elevated  almost two centuries prior, yet nothing could compare to the ancient sway of Old Valeryian wealth. Though the empire came and went, those who could trace their ancestry back to the old lords were in the stratosphere of high society.

Her parents met as most wealthy couples do, through mutual friends. They attended the same college and shared a similar spark. Neither enjoyed the formalities of the elite. They preferred the country to the city, gardening to garden parties, but their lifestyle could never be described as rustic. Oh how the rich love to play pretend poor. Through her mother’s side, she inherited vast real estate holdings across the globe. Through her father, she inherited large shares in corporations the family had a hand in founding. Not to mention a comfortable lump sum in the bank. Yes, she was an heiress and for the large part of her minority she never fully grasped that.

Harwin did the best he could. When you agree to be the godfather of your best friend’s kid, you don’t expect to take on the role as it originally meant. He went from a semi bachelor to a girl dad and an orphan within a few hours. The fire marshal could never say with certainty what caused the Harrenhal Estate fire. His brother Larys escaped by being out for the night. Harwin escaped because he had caught Y/N up and out of bed. Back then he was just the fun uncle. He was the gentle giant that would flip her in the air and sneak her sweats. If he hadn’t woken up to her rustling and escorted her to the kitchens in the opposite wing, then they would have perished as well. Harwin tried to go back for his Father and Y/N’s parents, but when the flames reached the bar and all that old barrel booze there was no chance. Floors were caving in and beams falling.

When the CPS officer asked who Y/N’s next of kin were, the answer was Harwin. It was the summer holiday before her first year of middle school. She was left with her belongings from her parent’s penthouse and the guest room at Harwin’s apartment. It wasn’t an easy transition in the least. Y/N didn’t know what sedentary meant. She hadn’t stayed in one location longer than six months. Harwin, though very paternal, didn’t know how to parent a child 24/7. So he went to the one person who did, Rhaenyra.

Y/N had met Rhaenyra several times throughout her prior life. She’d introduced Y/N’s parents and Harwin. Y/N even joined in the family fun of one or two holiday seasons. Her reintroduction to Rhaenyra and her family marked the end of the quiet times. Going from the luxuries of an only child to one of eight adjacent children was an adjustment for sure. She never knew what it meant to share toys and games, to have someone walk into your space at any given moment on a whim, or not have everyone’s full attention by merely being present. Later, she’d come to appreciate how it forced personal growth on her. In the moment, she reacted by being a bit of a brat.

Over time she became accustomed to common space, sharing the spotlight, the fights, always making extra snacks, and the freedom that sedentary life brought. She could bike all over, something she hadn’t done before. Those whom she met the day prior she could continue to see for months, years on end. She learned what it meant to be amongst peers and the wondrous secrets of sisterhood. It certainly made high school bearable.

Another night, another summer party Helaena didn’t want to attend. That was fine with Y/N. She hated seeing Helaena uncomfortable and Helaena’s absence didn’t mean she’d be alone. She had many friends, many more acquaintances. She wasn’t the kind of popular person that climbed their way up the social ladder by having the right clothes, posting the right things, or the viciousness to pull others beneath her. No, she just was. She was kind and good humored. It didn’t hurt that she had Valyrian money and beauty.

Helaena didn’t want to go. If she brought Jace and Rhaenyra or Harwin suspected anything, he’d cave into their questioning. Aemond wasn’t an avid party goer. And Aegon, Aegon was grounded, again. His mother had been harsher on him as of late. The stress of her failing marriage manifested in a need to tightly control her kids- despite her eldest going into college, two in high school, and the youngest in middle school. Better caught by Alicent who’d never assumed Y/N was up to no good than another episode of awkward parenting by Rhaenyra.

The party was across the lake from the patriarch Targaryen residence. It wasn’t a secret that the children of the elite enjoyed a party now and again in the woods that made estate borders indistinguishable. So long as they weren’t too loud or too rambunctious, no one went looking for them. However, someone, probably a Baratheon or Florent, didn’t realize that you couldn’t replace your parent’s two-hundred dollar bottle of imported vodka with water. It would freeze. So this go around, some estate security guards were dispatched to break up the party. After all, calling law enforcement could mean a charge of underage drinking. Either way, the partiers saw flashlights and scrammed in every direction like cockroaches when you turn on overhead lights.

The path to Y/N’s house took her right past the guards. The scenic route was too far and it was too late. She was also tipsy. Who’s residence happened to be a shoreline walk away? Conveniently, her best friend’s. She’d snuck into the Targaryen house countless times. She practically lived there throughout Rhaenyra and Laenor’s divorce. Rhaenyra’s half siblings were just as guilty for sneaking into her house. Early on an agreement was made. Only one household could be in turmoil at a time. The kids needed some place to escape.

So there she was, Y/N, once again using a column to climb to the roof of the porch. From the porch roof she could reach a lower balcony. Sometimes, she could sneak in that route. If it was a calm night and everyone was where she expected them to be, she could enter into the second floor den and sneak up the stairs to Helaena’s room. This wasn’t one of those nights. Light peered through the door blinds. Either Alicent or Viserys was up nursing a drink after yet another fight. Y/N had to quickly and quietly dart across that balcony to reach another. A great thing about being rich and owning gated property; you needn’t worry about how someone could scale your house and break in.

On the balcony roof, in one direction was Helaena’s room. In the other, Aegon’s. Normally, Y/N had no problem making it to her destination, However, tonight she had been drinking and her balance was off. The thought that she shouldn’t be climbing roofs had crossed her mind, but in her state, the cost benefit analysis seemed reasonable. Her foot shifted under a loose shingle and slipped down to catch on a gutter rail. She froze, eyes wide, wondering if the noise was loud enough to arouse suspicion. After all, a means of entrance was also a means of escape. That was more of Alicent’s priority. Quickly, at the realization that the music stopped, Y/N reached out an arm and hoisted herself up to the nearest window. It was unlocked, thank the gods, and she scurried in before the balcony doors could open.

She wasn’t exactly graceful. She was in a rush and intoxicated. She came tumbling into the room like a child at their first gymnastics lesson. She snorted laughter at her grand entrance. Her head threw back as her laughter grew. She’d definitely bruise, but that was a problem for later. Her laughter came to a sudden end when she was admonishingly hissed at.

“What the hells are you doing?” Aegon exclaimed as much as he could in a whisper. He was in bed, under the covers shirtless. His hair was in a wild state and his eyes were rimmed like he had just seen a ghost or had a heart attack. Y/N began giggling at the sight and situation. “My mother’s going to kill me thinking I’m trying to sneak out while grounded!”

“Don’t worry,” Y/N reassured while wiping tears of laughter. “There was music downstairs so it was probably Viserys. Alicent’s probably on the other end of the building sulking in her room.”

Aegon ran his hands down his face stretching his skin. “They’re fighting again.”

“I know.” She confirmed with a hum. There she was on the ground, legs out in front of her, back against the wall. She was a sight to behold in only her sandals and a barely covering bathing suit cover. A fantasy that definitely came across Aegon’s teenage male mind. No matter how much she got under his skin. Maybe because of it.

“Well go on then. You’ve gotten in, now get out.” He waved to the door.

Y/N tilted her head and examined him as he was. A Cheshire cat's smile beamed across her face. Under the covers, no shirt, hands sneaking back under the fabric. As if reading her mind, Aegon began to protest. “No, Y/n I swear to the gods!”

Too late. Y/N had hopped onto the bed like a predator would its prey. “Whatcha doing there, Aegon.” She hummed out with emphasis on his name. She tried to snatch the covers, but he beat her to it. Trying to catch the other compromised. A long running pastime for the pair.

“Praying.” He deadpanned.

“Bullshit.”

“Trying to sleep.”

“Nah, try again.”

“Would you just take your dumbass out of here?” He was getting pissy. She liked him pissy. If she wasn’t making him pissy then he was making her pissy.

She grinned that feline grin once more as she shook her head.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” He sounded exasperated by her presence.

“Nuh uh.” She shook her head fervently.

“Yeah huh.” He retorted.

“Fine,” She blew out an exhale. “I may have had a drink or two out by the lake.”

“The party Dane junior organized?”

“The very one you sadly missed.”

“That’s such bullshit.” He crossed his arms with a disagreeable pout. “I get grounded for taking the car out on a midnight snack run. Meanwhile, Harwin and Rhaenyra probably think you’re off in bed. Even if they catch you missing they’ll just assume you’re with Helaena.”

“Sucks to suck.” She said with a teasing shrug.

“Fuck you.” He scoffed back.

“That’s probably what you were just dreaming of.” There began another laugh of giggles.

“I fucking hate you.” He grumbled, very annoyed.

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically. “Hate to love me. Love to hate me. Now come on.” With that, a bag of gummies magically appeared from between her breasts. How she hid them, he did not know but for sure wanted to find out.

“Get dressed and eat an edible with me.” She offered up the bag.

“How in the seven hells did a devil like you end up best friends with my Septa of a sister?” His gaze was wildly aggressive.

“Fine, fine. I’ll turn around and give you privacy.” She mocked.

Aegon took the opportunity and slipped his joggers back on. He knew if he protested she’d only retaliate and he’d be fighting her off.

“And your sister isn’t a Septa. She’s just not interested in being a whore like you. If you’d been there I’d be the only female you haven’t defiled in one form or another.”

He scooted up to the end of the bed next to her. “Huh, you’d be so lucky.” He plucked a gummy out of the bag and tossed it into his mouth. She might annoy him, but he wasn’t going to pass up free drugs.

“Where’d you get these anyway?”

“The Martell’s just got back from Lys.” She hummed.

“Of course they did. So I should’ve taken half.”

“I don’t know. Let’s find out.” With a shrug, she took one herself.

There they laid. Two semi-delinquent teenagers entertained by the ceiling fan. Aegon’s head was laying on Y/N’s stomach while she played with his hair. It was comforting. No one was this gentle with him anymore. His mother stopped long ago. Helaena was never interested in physical contact, even that of familiar or platonic. Aegon never stayed around long enough for one of his many hook ups to be tender. He’d get a hug from his older sister every now and again, but it was more of one of those pat on the back half hugs. No, it was only on rare occasions when he and Y/N were getting along. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close. She’d run her delicate fingers over his scalp and trace patterns on his chest and cheek.

They’d stay like that for hours; until they heard someone approaching or one needed to sneak off into a respectable bedroom. There was a rarely spoken of companionship between them. Each made to grow up before they were ready. Smacked by the world. Both had ruined a marriage.

They had been silent for quite a while. Aegon was fiddling with the fingers of her free hand. A crease formed between his brows in curiosity. “Why didn’t you bring Jace or Aemond?”

Y/N tutted with humor. It was a common question between the two. If not Helaena, why not trust someone else? “Jace can’t have any fun without getting caught or ratting on himself. And Aemond wouldn’t have gone.”

Aegon turned his head to give her that questioning look. “Oh yes he would’ve.”

“Aemond? Our Aemond? Who only tolerates the majority of our peers and turns back into a pumpkin after midnight? We must not be thinking of the same Aemond.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

“You are. I know you are because I know he has a crush on you. Everyone knows he has a thing for you. He and Jace both. You’re just the only one in denial about it. Well, and them.” He shrugs against her.

She lifted her head to glare at him. “Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, if you wanted to, you could have two guys waiting on your every whim.”

“Not my fantasy.” Rather than continue to go back and forth about the validity of his claim, she shot down any thought that she’d want it. That was enough for Aegon to drop it.

They fell back into comfortable silence. It was peaceful. For a moment the world stopped spinning and they were the only two conscious of it. They shared similar weights.

“Are you sure these are fresh? They don’t feel that strong.” Aegon broke the silence again. Though Y/N was normally the chatty one, when they were high or drunk they switched roles.

“Mhm.” She nodded. “Higher CBD to THC ratio. It’s what they had on hand.”

“Oh.” He breathed out, understanding the state they were in. “Who are you going to get high with when I’m gone for college come September?”

He extended his neck to watch her response. Selfishly, he wanted her to say no one because no one could fill his place in these moments. He wanted to be the only one in the whole wide world that she’d be this soft and vulnerable with. He knew that wasn’t true. She annoyed him. She got under his skin and could drive him mad. But he wanted these tender moments to be as sacred to her as they were to him.

“Helaena doesn’t mind edibles.” She answered simply. As if it were nothing. “And Jace is fine so long as he’s away from his mom until he’s sober again.”

Aegon propped himself up and over her. He frowned.

“What?” And this time, her innocence was truthful.

He tilted his head and his frown grew deeper. Y/N sighed. “Do you want me to stockpile all the edibles for when you get back? Is that it?”

Aegon shook his head and kept the frown. Y/N continued. “You won’t be gone that long. The school isn’t that far away and there’s like a dozen holidays in fall semester. Spring has the family trip and summer is right after. You’ll be back. Besides, Helaena and I will probably follow you there next year anyway. We’ll have endless time to take edibles and drool into covers.” She chuckled as it wasn’t as important to her.

He wants to fight her on it. He so desperately wants to make her say this is something special between the two of them. He rolls his eyes and lets it go. He sinks back down onto her stomach and nuzzles into the soft flesh there. “You’re going to be so bored without me.”

Y/N lets out an amused puff of air. “Bored. At peace. Same thing I guess. Hey, maybe Helaena and I will finally have tea without you stealing our cakes.”

A pang of jealousy struck a nerve in Aegon. “You, Helaena, and your tea. I’m surprised any boy is interested in you when you act like an old, married, lesbian couple.” 

He continued in a mocking tone. “Oh Helaena love, you look so beautiful in this light. Helaena, you’re so smart. You’re the smartest person I know. Helaena, I’d do anything for you. I’m surprised someone hasn’t walked in on the two of you scissoring.”

Y/N gave him a shove at that. It didn’t move him much. “You’re gross.”

“And you and my sister are gay for eachother.”

“Helaena doesn’t like girls.” She mumbled. “She doesn’t even like guys like that.”

Confusion flashed across Aegon’s face before it was replaced with stark realization. “No way she doesn’t like anyone. Asexuality is just an excuse you claim when you can’t get laid.”

Y/N went to shove him again but he caught her hands. Aegon was fully invested now. “One, you’re an ass. And two, don’t go around tormenting her with it or I will castrate you and you’ll be a nosexual. Besides, I don’t even think she knows yet. And there’d be no coming back from being the jerk that spoils that for her.”

“I’m an ass.” He clarifies. “Not an asshole.”

“Better be.” Y/N gives him one last threatening look.

Needing to switch topics away from his sister’s sexuality, regretting that he even brought it up as a joke, he asks. “Are you going to spend the night here?”

“I don’t know. Can you keep your hands to yourself?” Before he can make a snide remark, she looked at the clock. “It’s three in the morning. I’d have to be out before the others start to wake at seven.”

Aegon hums in agreement. “Set an alarm.”

It’s an unspoken arrangement. From all the years they spent fighting, wrestling over one insult or another, they became comfortable with being in close proximity to one another. It was almost nostalgic. Like the shared touch brought back fleeting ease; like they were twelve and thirteen and the biggest worry was who could make the other eat dirt first.

They shifted back to the top of the bed. Y/N got under the covers as she was cold. Aegon chased her touch. There they resided, limbs tangled in one another like they were lovers.

And as soon as they found peace the alarm rang.

Next Chapter

[driftsart]

could we get a backstory on your soundwave if They do have one?

Sure!

Soundwave was "born" in Iacon and lived with his father Soundblaster. Soundwave barely remembers anything about his father, but most of the remaining memories are of his father rebelling against the higher ups, and him telling Soundwave about the harsh reality of Cybertron. His last memory of him is that of his father being taken away, after that moment, Soundwave was on his own.

Soundwave later began his job, working as Senator Ratbat's assistant. Senator Ratbat was a egoistical narcissistic and selfish senator, who barely bothered to care for his assistants. He was well respected amongst the rest in cybertronian government, but Soundwave despised him with every fiber of his being.

Soundwave would often come up with solutions to many of cybertron's biggest problems, and would ask Senator Ratbat to share them, in hopes of creating a better and equal Cybertron. Ratbat refused to even read the solutions, and would remind Soundwave that he was just a mere assistant, and to know his place.

Later on in his work, he stumbled across Shockwave, a young loner senator who's mind was always somewhere else.

Soundwave and Shockwave quickly became good friends, and Soundwave decided to share his ideas with Shockwave. Unlike Ratbat, Shockwave was a much less respected senator, most senators looked down upon him because of his weaknesses, including his obsessions with science, his tendency to lose focus on his job, or how he was always in a day dreamy trance while working. Although he tried to share Soundwave's ideas, no one would bother to pay attention to him.

After years of going unheard, Soundwave became tired of being treated as someone unimportant. After being dismissed by Ratbat yet again, Soundwave, angered, violently ended Ratbat's life, and attempted to escape, only to be found and captured.

As a punishment, Soundwave was sentenced to the gladiator pits of Kaon, where he would serve until fans payed enough money to buy his freedom. In the pits, Soundwave met Megatron, who at the time was nameless, D-16. He'd escaped the mines only to be caught and sent here. Soundwave quickly felt pity towards Megatron, and they became great friends, Soundwave being there to defend him, since D-16 didn't know how to fight at all. In the pits, Soundwave became more and more violent, his ideas for a better Cybertron included getting rid of higher ups in a violent way. D-16 was always there however to drive him away from those thoughts, even to this day.

After both left the gladiator arena, he offered Megatron the option of taking him to live in Iacon, where Soundwave met up with Shockwave again, and met Orion Pax, a new friend of Shockwave's. Soundwave never got too attached to Orion, especially since Orion was Alpha Trion's adoptive son, and Soundwave had grown to hate Primes. His distance with Orion grew even more when he found out that Orion was to become the next prime after Sentinel, who Soundwave despised the most. Tension between Orion and Soundwave grew more and more afterwards.

When the war started, Megatron originally wanted Soundwave to become the leader, but Soundwave refused and instead offered to be his most loyal sidekick and friend, keeping an eye on anyone who tried to harm him.

How he got the cassettes/companions

Ravage: not a cassette, but Soundwave's companion. Soundwave found Ravage in one of cybertron's many dumps (trash is disposed of by either burning or shooting it up into one of cybertron's moons, since some wild inhabitants like scraplets use it as a form of food). Ravage was a damaged battle robo-cat, which were used as entertainment or for soldiers, Soundwave rescued him before he was disposed of. He's been extremely loyal to Soundwave, and later on becomes the decepticon mascot, and currently lives a quiet life mostly inside the decepticon's ship after years of service alongside the decepticons.

Rumble and Frenzy: around mid way into the war, Soundwave visited one of Cybertron's wrecked and abandoned cities, where two abandoned little mini bots were found. Soundwave pitied them and took the baby bots in.

Lazerbeak: Lazerbeak was a wild Robo-bird who was used for experiments in one of cybertron's many harsh labs. Soundwave found the him in a wrecked lab where Lazerbeak was trapped in one of the many cages. He was the only one to survive out of the other test subjects in that wrecked lab. Soundwave quickly took him in and cared for him. Lazerbeak has been a very loyal sidekick and works as a spy.

[shegotheruby]

Reasons Not to Hate Rain

“I can do better, I’ll show you.” He says, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take. You raise an eyebrow in confusion but grab it anyways, standing up so that you’re face to face with him. It’s at this moment that you realize 3 things.

1. He’s the perfect height for someone you might want to kiss 2. His arm muscles are huge and you would like to touch them 3. You’re not going to kiss him or touch his arms because you’re delusional. end of story.

He starts leading you towards the door and you’re brought out of your little daze to pull him back (or attempt to, unsuccessfully - because his arms are twice the size of yours).

“hold on what are you doing?”

“i’m showing you something I love about the rain, duh.”

WC: 6,809

TW: MDNI / 18+ / NSFW / SMUT / CUSSING / FLUFF / ADULT CONTENT.

It’s raining outside, eliciting a deep sigh from your bundled up form on the couch. You’ve always hated the rain. Hated the way that it disrupts the natural flow of life in the city. You think people who enjoy the rain are a little crazy, if you’re being honest. It ruins plans and wastes people’s time.

You suppose the only DECENT thing about the rain is the fact that your work crush, Dokyeom is still at your house. What started as a simple movie night amongst friends ended with everyone leaving about an hour ago. Dokyeom stayed behind to help you clean up, using the excuse that “he rode his bike here” and “it’ll clear up soon.” It’s hard to complain about the rain when it’s keeping him here.

Although…now you’ve cleaned up.

and you’re wrapped back up in your blanket.

and he’s here.

and you don’t know what to do.

Your friendship has always been something limited to the group. You’ve never actually spent alone time together outside of work or work-sponsored events. The colleagues often get drinks on Fridays, so there’s always the drunken rides home that he gives as DD, but if you’re intoxicated not much can be said for those.

It’s not that you have difficulty speaking to him per se, you just don’t want to come on too strong with an invitation anywhere. You only moved into town about two months ago and you’re still getting used to your coworkers and their little social circle you landed in.

(and there’s also the fact that you’re like so…totally whipped for him. You’ve tried to hide your crush, and hope nobody has noticed).

You know you share a lot of common interests, and you know he has a pet dog and an older sister. You know that he uses a nickname, despite his birth name being Seokmin, because it just feels right. You know that he is a good friend to everyone who will talk about it, and you know his favorite food is Pizza. The people who are really comfortable with him call him DK or Kyeom, and you think that’s cute.

He likes getting drinks with the group after work, and takes good care of your coworkers when they have a bit too much - out of respect, and not with any gain in mind. You know he’s pretty goofy and loves to crack a joke. You are too, but you find yourself holding back for some reason. You suppose you might be a little nervous to embarrass yourself considering how attractive you find him (not that you would admit that to anyone else).

So the only thing your tired brain can think to do is sigh about the gloomy weather.

Your gaze drifts from the clouds to the tops of the trees, and eventually away from the window towards Dokyeom, only to find that he’s already staring back at you. Your cheeks warm a bit when he smiles.

“A big sigh? That ready to get rid of me, huh?” He asks, nodding at the rain.

“No, no!” you widen your eyes, waving your hand side to side. “It’s not like that, I promise.” You look towards the window again. “I’ve just never liked the rain.”

“How come?” He questions, pulling his feet underneath him into a criss-crossed position on the couch, turning to face you a bit better.

(the butterflies in your stomach start swirling now that you have his direct attention like this).

“Hmm” you contemplate. “I’ve never really pinpointed why.” you shrug. “I think it’s just the general vibe. It feels dark and gloomy. I’m more of a sunshine kind of person.”

“I am too.” He responds thoughtfully, “But i think there are lots of reasons to like the rain!”

You raise your eyebrows. “like what?” (half of you wants to rest your chin in your hand and flutter your eyelashes in a “whatever you say pretty boy” fashion, but you genuinely are quite passionate in your distaste for the rain).

“well” he purses his lips. “For starters I think there’s a certain freshness about it. It’s clearing out the smog from the air and allowing the plants to grow.”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips. “Dokyeom is Cheesy and Optimistic. Noted.” You mime the motion of writing something on a notepad.

“Heyyy” He pouts, leaning over to playfully shove your knee. “It might sound cheesy but I have a point!”

“Give me a better one.”

“You don’t want to cheer for clean air? Come on!” He punches the air with exaggeration.

“I’ll take my air breezy and sunny thank you.”

He makes a pouty thinking face for a moment, probably attempting to give you a better reason.

“Well … “ he announces “I also like the rain because we used to cancel our baseball games in high school.”

You give him a questioning look because… why would that be good?

He continues, “when the rain or lightning was bad, all of my friends would go out and sing karaoke at an ice cream parlor instead.”

“The key word in that sentence is cancel” you point out. “Don’t you think some people were upset that the games were canceled?”

“Probably. I know my dad was, but I never wanted to play baseball anyway. So it was a win for me!” he smiles.

..His smile is so adorable.

“Your dad forced you to play sports?”

“Yeah. The idea of having a son who was into singing and dancing kind of…hurt his male ego.”

“Singing and Dancing is pretty hot these days. Doesn’t he listen to the radio?” You point out.

He belly laughs out loud, and it warms your insides. “THANK YOU!” He practically yells. “I tried to reason with him so many times. I wanted to go on like a survival show or something but he decided baseball and sports was the manlier route.”

you scoot closer to him so your knees are almost touching, and you do rest a hand on his leg. “I think you seem pretty…manly or whatever.” You rub your finger on his shin for a moment. “you even have manly amounts of leg hair!”

you have to make a joke because while your brain knows that close proximity to Dokyeom is exactly what you want - your heart’s insane beat tells another story.

He laughs again and backs away from your touch, protecting his hairy legs from any more jokes.

“Leave my legs alone!” he whines, and you just giggle at the stupidness of your joke.

“Okay, I will. If you give me another reason why the rain doesn’t fully and totally suck.”

“I can do better, I’ll show you.” He says, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take. You raise an eyebrow in confusion but grab it anyways, standing up so that you’re face to face with him. It’s at this moment that you realize 3 things.

1. He’s the perfect height for someone you might want to kiss 2. His arm muscles are huge and you would like to touch them 3. You’re not going to kiss him or touch his arms because you’re delusional. end of story.

He starts leading you towards the door and you’re brought out of your little daze to pull him back (or attempt to, unsuccessfully - because his arms are twice the size of yours).

“hold on what are you doing?”

“i’m showing you something I love about the rain, duh.”

“Can’t you show me from inside the apartment?”

“Nope.” he decides confidently, widening his eyes as if to give you a ‘don’t ask anymore questions just go with it’ look.

You sigh in frustration and allow him to drag you out of your second story apartment and into the downpour. He keeps walking until you’re in the middle of the little garden your complex planted. There’s a cute little pathway and a bench covered by an archway of metal covered in vines and leaves. You come out here pretty often when the weather is nicer. You’ll sit and read on the bench or even help your landlord with some of the weeding when you just need to get your mind off of things.

“I do see that there are flowers growing because of the rain, can we go inside now?” you whine, gesturing towards the garden.

“That’s not why we’re out here.” He nods his head, twisting your interlocked hands so he can face you more directly. “We’re going to dance in the rain.”

Your mouth drops open in surprise. Of all the things he could have suggested, that wasn’t one of the things you expected. Sure, you’ve heard of people dancing in the rain tons of times, but that’s like…in books and movies. It doesn’t happen in real life. You could get a cold or he could get a cold…you both could get colds!

“please?” he says, holding his hand out like a prince at a ball. “just entertain me for one song?”

“there’s no music?” you grab his hand in surrender, despite the obvious observation.

“Part of the fun is making our own music, for ourselves and nobody else. It doesn’t matter if we can sing or not, because the rain drowns out the sound for everyone else but us.”

You blush a little at how cute and innocent the idea seems. How cute and sweet HE seems.

So you let him pull you into his embrace and you rock back and forth while he sings to you. And he can SING. His voice is beautiful, like an angel. It’s smooth and buttery and you melt into him as he hits the high notes perfectly. He sings you a soft melody and you feel like you could levitate, as one song bleeds into another and you’re not even mad about the rain anymore. You feel like you could listen to his humming and singing for hours. Maybe even days.

“Will you sing with me?” He asks after a third song, and despite the fact that you don’t sing, you’re so immediately comfortable and happy that you agree. You begin to sing an old tune from your childhood. It was one your grandmother sang to you when you were feeling sad - back before she passed away. To your surprise, Dokyeom is familiar with the song and he harmonizes with you, reminding you of all those years ago. He notices the tears in your eyes before you even feel them, and he moves to wipe them away.

“there’s no point in wiping away tears when we’re standing in rain” you choke a half-laugh, half-sob and wipe at your eyes anyway. You’re under control quickly, not crying for real - you just had some teary eyes at the memory.

“but there is a point in telling you that whatever memories you have attached to that song are important and I hope you can hold onto them. At least the good ones.” he pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head. You snuggle into his soaked T-shirt, realizing only now that you are a bit cold.

But you’re okay being cold if it means you can hug him for a bit longer.

“Dokyeom?” you softly whisper into him

“Yes?”

“I like your singing voice.”

“I like yours too.”

“and I like hugging you.”

“I like hugging you too.”

“……and I guess the rain doesn’t totally suck” you emphasize the word ‘totally.’

You feel the muscles in his jaw shifting, which you can only assume is to form a smile.

“i still had one more reason to prove it to you, in case this wasn’t enough.”

“what’s that?” you lean back to look up at him. “I might need something to really solidify the change of heart.”

His eyes flash from your eyes down to your mouth, and then back to your eyes in a quick moment. You don’t miss the movement, and feel a slight bit of nerves bubbling in your stomach. You look at his own mouth, admiring his pretty smile, pretty lips.

“I had my first kiss in the rain.” He leans forward, lips ghosting over yours. All you would have to do is pucker them out and they’d be touching.

“is that so?” you ask, sliding an arm down to his hand, softly linking your fingers.

“mhm” he mumbles, other hand moving to rest on your neck.

“I’ve never been kissed in the rain..” you mumble, not wanting to move too far away from your current position.

“a shame.” he mumbles back, taking a micro step closer, pinning your bodies together. “I could help you change that…if you want?” it comes out softer than a whisper. You think there’s a chance you might have imagined it in your own head.

You close the gap. Opening up and allowing his lips to connect with yours, sighing into the sensation of his warmth spreading through your cheeks and down your neck. You feel heat shooting into your spine and through your chest. Into your stomach and your core and all the way down to your toes. You feel like smiling, and you might be smiling but you also feel like kissing him..really, really kissing him is more important than smiling right now. His lips are soft and pliable, moving in tandem with your own. They’re plush and smooth, and it feels like he was meant to be right here, kissing you all along. Your eyes float closed and you see fireworks. Flashing lights and blooming flowers and a big neon sign that says “LOVE!” filling up your brain.

You’re the first one to introduce your tongue into the mix, pushing it gently forward to meet his bottom lip. He opens up for you, boosting your confidence. You enjoy the dance- tongues learning each other, circling each other like they met in a past life and were waiting to be reunited. The moment intensifies when you unclasp hands. His hand comes straight to the other side of your neck, tilting your head upwards for a deeper kiss.

Your hands both run along his back, feeling every smooth curve of his muscles underneath the wet cotton. They rub up and down before softly tickling the skin behind his ears and brushing the end of his hairline where it meets his neck. A hand rubs along his jawline and back, sending shivers down his spine. Unbeknownst to you, He thinks your hands are soft and pretty and he’s wanted to hold them since the first time he met you, but he wanted it to be smooth, and natural. When he feels your finger running along his jaw, playing with his hair…it short circuits his critical thinking skills.

You kiss and kiss, exploring the taste of each other in a daze. The rain starts to pour harder, and your ears are ringing. You peek your eyes open just long enough to see the droplets racing along his tanned skin, making him look like (in your opinion) a steamy model. You imagine him being photographed with some sort of body wash or something in the shower. Shirtless of course. You feel bad at the thought -sexualizing him in this sweet moment- and immediately squint your eyes closed again.

You hum as he takes a step backward, your body moving with him as he blindly walks towards the garden bench. You wobble with him until you feel that you’re both blindly sloshing through a puddle. Giggling, you pull away to look at his rosy cheeks and blown out pupils, staring down at you with a sweet stare, tinted with lust. You guide him to the bench, following him down so you’re straddling his lap.

The only words he’s able to mutter are “you’re so cute” before you’re connected again, hands running through his hair. His are exploring your hips and thighs, bare due to the athletic shorts you’re wearing. You nip at his lip, earning a teasing pinch in the side. You pull an inch backwards so you can kiss the spot with a little peck, using the position to kiss the corner of his mouth, and then the other corner right after. You peck him directly in the center and then lean to kiss him on the cheek, and in a trail down to his neck. You spend a few moments kissing there while he closes his eyes, face raised up to the sky.

“The god of rain really blessed me today!” he sighs towards the clouds, and you giggle into his shoulder. You sit back up and wrap your arms around his shoulders so you can finally look at each other and grin like kids.

“For the record” you share, “You’re super cute too.”

You notice his cheeks blush and smile at the effect your compliment had. He reaches to hold your hand again and flips it over to see how pruny and wet they’ve become.

“I suppose we should go inside now” he nods, showing you your own palm. “I’ve turned you into a raisin!”

You laugh at his description and stand up off of his lap, allowing him to stand as well. He turns around with his back to you and bends his knees a bit. “hop on”

“You’re joking” you poke at his back

“Nope! First class ride upstairs. I would feel bad if you slipped.”

“You’d feel bad because it would make me hate the rain again.” you tease. “after all of your hard work!”

“Oh that wasn’t hard at all. I could probably work a little harder, in fact.”

“I’d like to see that.” you smile, hopping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist for support. You squeal a little when he straightens to his full height and starts walking towards the stairs.

Once you’re inside, he sets you down and you shiver. The drastic change in temperature, while welcome, reminds you how wet and cold you truly are. You were definitely outside for 30 or 40 minutes.

“I need a hot shower.” you breathe, “and so do you.”

“You can go first.” he gestures towards your bedroom, “I’ll sit on the floor so your couch doesn’t get wet.”

“Or you can come with me?” you offer, tugging his hand again. “We can shower in our clothes, at least to warm up.”

His big smile that you love so much graces his face and he nods wordlessly. He follows you like a big golden retriever towards the bathroom and hugs your back while you wait for the water to reach the perfect steamy temperature.

A satisfied sigh escapes your lips involuntarily the second you step under the warm stream. It feels a little weird to be in your shower fully clothed, but you don’t mind since Dokyeom is next to you, still hugging from behind so both of you can enjoy the warmth at the same time. Your eyes are closed and you’re just getting comfortable when Dokyeom flips your position so he’s under the water and you’re out of it.

“hey!” you start to object, but you’re interrupted when he squeezes a big glob of shampoo onto your head with a grin.

You’re dumbfounded and all you can think to do is laugh. he pushes lightly on your shoulder urging you to turn and you do, curious what he’s going to do next.

You’re pleasantly surprised when he brings his hands into your hair and starts massaging the soapy suds into your scalp. You relax into his touch and how good it feels, his long fingers scratching just the right spots… god you feel like a pet.

“I think I understand why dogs like it when we scratch their fur” you mumble, making a “yuck” sound when some soap lands in your mouth. You jerk your head back into the water so you can rinse off your tongue and Dokyeom uses that as the perfect moment to move his own body outside of the water, stealing some of your lavender shampoo for his own hair.

“thief!” you joke, pointing at the bottle in his hand.

“I thought massaging your scalp like a… what did you say…a dog? might earn me a dollop of soap?” he asks with a smirk.

“Don’t make fun of me, it felt good!” you whine, crossing your arms in a pout.

“I’m not making fun of you” he smiles, lathering the shampoo into his hair. “you’re too cute to tease.”

You cover your face to hide the growing smile before giving up and reaching above him to start rubbing his hair. “It really is relaxing. i’ll prove it to you.” you announce, attempting to give him the same treatment despite the height difference between the two of you.

What you expect is for him so relax into your touch. To agree that it feels amazing and maybe to compliment your exquisite taste in shampoo (this one is expensive!)

What he does is ten times better. He wraps his large hands around your hips and kisses you. Hard. Your eyes open wide at the shift from his soft, controlled kisses before. This kiss is hungrier, full of heat and desire. He pushes your body against the tile walls and moves to kiss right below your ear. “you’re right. it does feel good” he breathes, hands roaming anywhere your skin is bare.

The logical part of your brain wants to say something snarky like ‘i told you so’ or ‘enough to kiss me?’ but what comes out is definitely not from that part of your brain because all you do is breathe a pleasured sigh. an involuntary one! You don’t want to advertise just how touched starved you’ve been the past few months, but your body is betraying you in this moment. Arching into him like your core is a magnet and he is the other charge.

“Can I make you feel good in this way too?” he asks, sucking a hickey onto your collarbone.

“yes” you mumble, hands threading into his sudsy hair. “please.”

“Wanted you like this for a long time” he admits in between kisses. “Since we met.”

“I have too” you breathe, pushing his hair into the water stream to help him rinse it out. “but i didn’t think you felt the same.” you look into his eyes, regaining some composure for a serious moment, despite the growing heat between your legs.

“I tried to drop hints.”

“like what?” you ask, genuinely trying to remember any times where he showed interest.

“First of all, I rode my bike to your house with a forecasted rainstorm.” he wraps his large hands around your cheeks. “I do have a car, you know.”

You roll your eyes with a grin.

“And I try to crack jokes a lot because I’ve noticed you watch comedians on your lunch break…and god, y/n, you have a pretty laugh.”

You blush. and try to object but he interrupts with a finger over your lips.

“Don’t try to say it’s not pretty. Your laugh gets me through the day and I could listen to it for hours.”

You don’t have too much of a chance to feel shy (even though that’s your initial reaction), because he continues giving more examples:

-He brushed your arm one time at that employee barbecue

-He brought you the business card for his friend who could give you a discount when you needed your car fixed

-Did you really think he complimented your haircut when you got a small trim because he notices things like that? He complimented it because he notices YOU.

“And I always stayed sober when you were drinking to make sure you got home safe.”

You blink, realizing that’s true. “I thought you were doing that for all of us, since we’re mostly girls.”

“I want all of the coworkers to be safe too…but you can ask any one of them. I used to drink a lot during our outings until you showed up.” He admits. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you going home with anyone that wasn’t me.”

“anyone that wasn’t you?” you raise your eyebrows. “Does that mean you’re a possessive boyfriend?”

“I don’t need to be.” He shares, face completely serious. “I easily trust the people i’m with…. but I am just kind of clingy.”

“I can handle clingy.” you giggle, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug. “And I can’t believe you were dropping all of those hints and I was oblivious. Pining after you from afar when I could have had you all along.”

“It’s never too late. But I think we have some lost time to make up for.” His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt.

You grab the end of his shirt and lift it up, revealing hard, defined abs. You put it back down just as quickly - just a glimpse- but it makes him blush deep pink.

“oh yes, we do.”

___

The next few seconds are a blur of messy kisses. Clashing teeth, and wet clothes being -not so classily- ripped from your bodies and dropped in a pile on your shower floor. Despite the fact that you’re now naked, he hasn’t attempted to touch your breasts yet. His hands are still respectfully rubbing your hips and sides.

He pulls away and makes eye contact with you.

“I want you so bad, and I don’t want to mess this up.” He explains. “Are you completely sure you want this? You can say no. We can move slower… I can take you on a proper date first? God you’re just so beautiful and perfect and..”

“Dokyeom” You interrupt, hand pressing on his chest. “I want this more than anything. You can say no too, but I really, really want this.”

“I would never say no to you. Not in a million years.” He bites his lip, leaning back in. This time he does allow his hands permission to roam. Slowly dragging up your body, no urgency. You lean your head against the wall with a sigh. Every place that he brushes up your wet skin sends sparks flying. He reaches your breasts and squeezes them, adoring them and appreciating your nipples perky with arousal. His lips travel from the hard part of your chest over to one nipple, sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. The other hand continues to stimulate the other nub, lightly pinching and twirling it between his fingers.

“can we do this on the bed?” you ask, eyes still closed.

“yes” he answers, reaching to turn off the water stream. “where are your towels?”

“doesn’t matter” you pull him out and towards the bedroom. “We’re gonna need to wash the sheets anyways.”

His eyes light up at the insinuation and he at least has half the mind to push off your fluffy comforter before laying you down on the white sheets. You pull him back into a kiss as he slots himself above you, hands stimulating the other nipple you interrupted him from sucking on. His hardened cock rubs against your core and you both whimper at the feeling. He grinds against you again with a satisfied “ah” breathed into your mouth.

“more” you beg, rutting up into him this time.

“yes princess.” He answers, flipping you over so he is laying on the bed and you’re laying on top of him. You squeal, practically leaking arousal at how fast he was able to completely manhandle your body. You push yourself up so you are straddling him and reach behind you, fully prepared to align his dick with your hole.

“not yet” he tuts, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

You look at him with confusion before he grabs your hips and lifts you towards his face.

“oh!” you gasp, understanding what he wants you to do. You wiggle the last few inches until your pussy is aligned with his face and look down to see him staring right at it, practically salivating. The look in his eyes is all you need to confirm that he is doing this just as much for his own enjoyment as your own, and you relax downwards, fully seating yourself onto him.

He wastes no time latching right onto your clit and sucking like his life depends on it. You jerk at the quickness of the stimulation before moaning and gripping at the sheets above his head. The headboard isn’t in front of you, rather off to the side so you settle for grabbing a pillow and holding on for dear life. He switches between flicking with his tongue and sucking, opting for a pattern that has you reeling and writhing above him. You feel your actual sanity leaking out through your skin as you grind into him, using him as your personal pleasure device.

You whimper praises to him “so good” and “fuck, baby.” escaping your lips without your brain’s permission. He swirls his tongue in a circle around your hole and dips inside, flicking back and forth faster, you’re convinced, than any man has done before. “know what you’re doing, my god” you shriek when he gives a particularly powerful sucking motion on your clit.

Despite the already intense pleasure, you want more. You want to feel the vibrations of his own pleasure, so you push up onto your knees and flip your body so you can see his hard cock, resting on his abdomen - still sparkling with water. He cries a dissatisfied sigh, pulling you back onto his mouth within seconds, and you lean forwards, taking him into your own mouth at the same time. This does exactly what you were hoping it would, and he groans into your cunt, spiking shivers throughout your core. You collect saliva and spit onto his length, using one elbow to prop yourself up, and the other hand to stroke him up and down. you lick a stripe along the side before taking him all the way into your throat, gagging on how far he reaches. This pulls a larger groan out of him and you pop off of his dick, saliva following in a stream.

“fuck, do that again.” you cry, body shaking at how close you are to your climax. He starts mumbling complete nonsense into your clit, lips vibrating against you, hot breath coaxing your orgasm out like kindling in a fire. You cry when the rope breaks, grasping the sheets on either side of his hips, face burying into -you don’t even know what part of his body - as you shake and grind into him, riding the waves of pleasure for longer than normal.

Once the intensity wanes into a pleasant warm feeling all throughout your body, you collapse off to the side, one hand underneath you and the other resting on his hip bone. You’re genuinely speechless for a while, laying there with your chest heaving up and down. After a few moments you do regain a regular breathing pattern and prop up on your elbows to turn towards him. HIs face is covered in your essence.

With a toothy grin he just says “you’re not real.”

“I could say the same about you.” you state, turning your body around so you can curl into his side. “I don’t know if my skills are going to compare to yours.” you admit, feeling a little shy at the fact that your experience giving head is mediocre. You’ve tried it a few times but the guys never seemed too impressed or wowed.

“You’re joking, right?” he asks, resting his chin on your head. “I was about 2 seconds away from finishing into your mouth just now.” You peek down at his cock, stick straight and pink. It looks aching to be touched again.

“I mean…I can make you cum but I don’t know If i can make your brain explode into another timezone like mine just did.”

“Oh love… I think you greatly underestimate the affect you have on me”

The words hit you like a tidal wave and you’re not at all tired from orgasming - rather your intense need to please takes over.

“I like hearing that” you smile, fingertip lightly brushing along his skin.

You leisurely move your body, teasing him as you straddle his abdomen with no rush. Your hands rest flat, fingers wrapping towards his sides. You feel his body shiver underneath you and you realize that his stomach is sensitive.

“Are you ticklish?” you ask, shifting your hands closer to his chest.

“Yes.” He admits, wiggling a bit. “Don’t tease.”

“No I won’t tease.” you promise, leaning down to kiss him. “I just wonder how sensitive other parts of you might be.”

“please find out.” He flirts, licking his lips. (You think you see a bit of desperation behind the facial expression though. Something to dig into for another time.)

“yes sir.”

He groans at the way your hands reach behind you to wrap around him, slowly pumping. You grind your ass into him just a bit before pulling away so it’s just your hands again.

“I thought you said no teasing?” He lifts an eyebrow.

“Sorry. Too tempting by the look on your face.”

“I think the look on my face will be even better if you-“

You cut him off by sinking down onto his length in one fluid motion. You’re fully seated within seconds and you feel the wind knocked out of yourself too - if not even more so.

You both groan in sync as your insides pulse around the new member invading their space.

“fuck” you whisper, lifting about an inch before sitting back down, wincing at how deep inside of you he has gone. “So big.”

“Should have gone slower” He bites his lip, trying his hardest not go grab your hips and take you at his own speed.

“Had to shut you up somehow baby………oh god you like it when I say that.” You physically feel the way he twitches inside of you at the nickname and don’t even need him to say anything. His body is doing all of the talking. He does release a heavenly moan though that has you clenching.

It only takes a few moments for you to feel adjusted, You lift off of him most of the way before sliding down at an average pace. You don’t want to go too slow, still seeking pleasure, but you do hope to discover how much of a switch he can be, You want to bring him to the brink of euphoric pleasure and then tug on the leash. You want to see how long it takes for him to break. For him to flip you over and take charge again.

His head is thrown back and you admire the sharp curve of his jawline, the glow of his tanned skin in the dimly lit room. You reach beside you to grab a pillow and you push it underneath his head without stopping your motions. You feel him jerk into you a bit harder - another physical sign that he likes being cared for. He’s big and muscular and hot but at the end of the day he just wants you to call him baby and take care of him.

As you bounce on top of him, his face is nothing short of godly. He makes the prettiest noises and his hair falls into his eyes just perfectly. Lips parted, pupils blown wide. You wish you could take a picture.

You slow your hips, sinking all of the way onto him and circling them, sighing at the tension and the heat radiating from inside of you. He grabs onto your waist like a lifeline and you still your body, putting your smaller hands on top of his.

“Your hands are so big, fuck” you note, looking at the way the strong fingers grip onto you, covering so much of the exposed skin.

He raises an eyebrow and moves his right hand, lightly rubbing at your clit. “You like big hands?” He teases, just feathering over that spot.

“When my men use them, yes” you lean forward an inch, begging for more friction from him. Your hips have resumed their motion but you’re still not moving up and down, you’re more grinding into his fingers and hip bone, clit begging to be pleasured.

“Maybe I am possessive.” he decides, finally flipping that switch and rolling you over. “Because you won’t remember any other man’s hands after i’m done here.”

He pulls out just long enough to roll you again so you’re laying flat on your stomach. He wraps his lower arm underneath your hips and tugs upwards, prompting you to kneel, arms straight underneath you. He plunges his cock back inside, one foot on the ground and one knee on the bed for stability. His arm stays wrapped around you, fingers rubbing harshly on your bud as he takes you hard and rough.

“I’m so close.” you choke, eyes rolling into the back of your head, spit surely drooling out of your parted lips.

“God you’re so tight” he grumbles into the skin of your back. “clenching around me like crazy.”

“kyeommie” your voice comes out high pitched, whiny and begging for that high you’re rapidly approaching.

“Come for me, come for me, come for me” he repeats like a mantra, thrusts irregular and deep.

So you do. Your walls flutter and squeeze as your orgasm rips through you. The only thing keeping you sort-of stable is his forearm around your hips - as your arms go limp and you arch your back, falling onto your elbows with a scream. He thrusts into you through your high, helping to maximize your pleasure until he can’t take it any more. He pulls out at the last possible second, white cum squirting all over your ass and thighs.

He crawls up over your body, turning your head and latching onto your lips in a searing kiss before you both finally collapse - you on your stomach and him on his back, heads tilted towards each other.

You lay in silence for a moment before you adjust your body so you’re cuddling into him. you rest your head on his broad chest and peek at the window, rain still falling outside.

“i’m sticky” you note with a chuckle.

“Sorry baby” he pouts at you, “skootch over I’ll clean you up.”

“not yet” you sigh, hugging him tighter. “We can clean up together in a second. and for the record, I never said I don’t like getting a little sticky.”

You feel his body vibrate in a chuckle underneath you and you smile, leaning up to give him another gentle kiss.

___

Your ’We’ll clean up in a second’ remark turned into ‘in 30 minutes,’ but you did eventually pull yourselves out of your dreamy state to take a shower. It’s dangerous being in such close proximity to a man of his physique, because how could you not have shower sex? He’s big and strong and when the soap travels down his abs…it’s like little bread crumbs leading you back to your favorite prize. (a hard prize standing at attention).

He rails you from behind, breasts pressing into the cold shower tile, breaths and hot water fogging up the glass and the mirrors and the whole room. You do finally get yourselves cleaned up once the hot water becomes lukewarm bordering cold.

“Did I make you like the rain a little more?” Dokyeom finally asks once you’re cuddled up on the couch sharing a bottle of water.

“I guess a little bit.” you smile. “If you can promise this every time it rains… it might become my favorite weather.”

“So you’d do this again, then?” He confirms with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“I’d do this 100 more times.” you grin. “And I’d date you too, if you want.”

“y/nnie i’ve considered you my girlfriend to be since the second i laid my eyes on you, i’m giddy to call it official.”

You blush and stand, pulling him to his feet.

“Well in that case, It’s time for me to complete my first task as your loving, doting girlfriend.”

“Oh?” he questions, following behind you as you lead him towards your kitchen. You pull a pot out of the cabinet and begin to fill it with water. “My favorite thing to do during a rainstorm,” you explain, putting the pot on the stove, “Is to make hot ramen and cuddle up on the couch.”

“A woman after my heart.”

You turn to see that he’s not kidding. The gaze he’s looking at you with can only be described as boba eyes. They shine and glisten and you almost see little heart shaped glimmers in there.

“And you’re a man who very quickly has mine.”

___