#of course this bit in particular must’ve been posted around tumblr already but i’d like to reminisce about this

[danishphoner]

"Well, I'm Alex, from The Last Shadow Puppets, and I play the 'awoooo!'"

"And I'm Miles, from The Last Shadow Puppets, and I play the midnight moon"

[elphenfan]

Nesting (Good Omens) 1/?

Chapter One I Chapter Two  I Chapter Three I Chapter Four I Chapter Five I Chapter Six I

I forgot I hadn’t uploaded this here. Apologies. I was inspired by this post by ariaste here on Tumblr, though I sorta ended up not truly hitting any of the prompts fully. Maybe another time. I suppose this is a slight AU.

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The first time he noticed it, he was sure he had stepped into the wrong shop.

But no, this was definitely A.Z. Fell & Co., the bookshop owned and, ostensibly, run by the kindest angel in existence. If nothing else, he should be able to tell just based on smell; not only was he so familiar with the bookshop that he could smell whether people had come in or not, he knew Aziraphale’s smell as well as he did his own.

But that said, something was off. Enough so that he had been left unsure for a long moment. What was it?

“Aziraphale, did you move the books?” he called.

The angel, who hadn’t even looked up from where he seemed to be pouring over some new acquisitions when Crowley had come in, lifted his gaze to frown at him. The glasses perched on his nose made the gesture look rather adorable.

“Move them?” he said, incredulity in his voice. “They’re all here, as you can see. What would I want to move them for?”

Was there something else in his voice, too? No, he must’ve imagined that.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You’re the one asking. Why are you asking, anyway?”

He wasn’t going to say it was because something felt off. That would not only be giving up far too easily, it would more than likely offend Aziraphale. More than it already had, at least.

“Just thought the light fell differently in here,” he lied smoothly, moving further into the shop and gesturing. “Thought you might have moved them around a bit, that was all. For better display or whatever.”

“Oh.” No, it did sound as though there was something else in the voice, even if he couldn’t pin it. “Well, yes, I have. Just a few things. You know. Better composition and all that. A bit of visual appeal.”

As though he ever had much track with what was visually appealing. That was, of course, a matter of individual taste but Aziraphale had a gift for always getting it wrong, sometimes only slightly, sometimes quite spectacularly so. The man was almost a century and a half out of style with his clothes, for crying out loud!

And he definitely never moved his books around for something as relatively mundane as visual appeal. After all, that might have quite a disastrous effect.

“Aren’t you afraid customers will find that to be appealing, too?” he asked, leaning up against a bookshelf as he looked at the other. Taking just a bit of advantage of his glasses to let his eyes wander down over the form in front of him. Just as he always did whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Aziraphale stiffened slightly at that, as he tended to when the dreaded word ‘customers’ was used.

Crowley knew he would and hoped that it might prompt the angel to actually reveal the real reason.

Unfortunately, he was to be disappointed.

“What did you want?” the angel asked instead, turning his attention back to the books. “I thought you had something on up in…where was it? Manchester?”

He remembered.

“Finished that yesterday. Just thought I’d pop down and see if you’d be interested in some lunch. My treat, of course.”

And the way that Aziraphale not only unstiffened but positively beamed at the suggestion wiped the odd feeling about the bookshop from the demon’s mind.

The next time he came to the bookshop rather than meeting up with the angel somewhere else, as was often the case so as not to alert their respective head offices, though, he was struck by that feeling again the moment he set foot in the place. It was stronger than before. Much stronger, in fact.

This time, he didn’t mention anything, just moved around the bookshop quietly. Aziraphale was busy with something or other and if he knew he was there, he had yet to acknowledge it out loud.

As far as he could tell, the books had been…rearranged again. They had always looked…fine, but now there a bit more of a…well, frankly, a visual appeal to them, arranged so that your eye swept across them naturally rather than having to endure the bumps and dips of differently formatted books, as though you were tracing a particularly spiky mountain range with your eyes.

It was very inviting, even for someone who was hardly the biggest booklover or connoisseur.

It wasn’t just the books, though. The sofa was there as it had been for the last…well, before they’d fallen out over that whole holy water thing. But the cushions weren’t merely expensive, they were new and the – had the sofa itself been reupholstered? Had it ever been that before?

What on earth was going on? Aziraphale wasn’t the type to change his décor on a whim, or even that often, and both of those were severe understatements.

He was then tempted to ask Aziraphale but decided against it. The last time, the angel had clearly not wanted the question, though exactly why wasn’t clear to the demon.

Well, so a few updates for comfort. That was hardly a bad thing, was it? The sofa looked more inviting than usual and the cushions looked decidedly snuggable.

Had he actually just thought that word? Eurgh.

He helped himself to a bottle of red wine that the angel had left out just to get rid of that thought. But he did share it with the other, so that was okay.

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It was only when he’d gotten back to his own flat, had in fact laid down to sleep, that something came to him, slamming into him hard enough to jolt him upright.

Those things…those additions and changes, they weren’t for comfort. They were – they were for nesting!

No, they couldn’t be. They simply could not because…because this was Aziraphale!

Yes, okay, so angels nested when they felt a particularly strong connection to someone else, usually another angel, and wanted to settle down with them in a more exclusive partnership. That didn’t negate their other duties, of course, or mean that they had no love for anything else.

To be honest, he had wondered somewhat about that whole thing. Angels weren’t supposed to form a stronger connection to one particular being than to the rest of the world. It was supposed to be equal, wasn’t it? Why had God allowed that sort of thing, that sort of behaviour, in the ranks of Her angels?

Then again, it was supposed to be caring, too. They were supposed to care about humanity in the first place, and it seemed that they somewhat struggled with that, judging by the comments Aziraphale had let slip over the years.

‘You don’t want to get Gabriel upset with you’ came to mind, for instance.

But there must be someone up there that wasn’t entirely like that. Otherwise, Aziraphale wouldn’t be nesting for them, would he? He had never picked anyone to nest with in the almost six thousand years they had known each other. At least, not as far as Crowley knew, and if it was the case, then he would’ve found that out about his angel by now.

Except…he wasn’t really his angel, was he? Or at least, he wouldn’t be for much longer, if he was nesting. Then he would be someone else’s and Crowley would’ve blown his chances for good.

If he had ever had any chance to begin with, of course, and he honestly didn’t think he had. Leaving aside the fact that they were on opposite sides…well, no, actually, not leaving that aside. He was a demon, fallen and sullied while Aziraphale was…perhaps not entirely pure but far too decent, too right to entertain those thoughts about someone like him. Friends were one thing, a nestmate was quite another. He couldn’t hide that from the higher-ups, either.

Even leaving all that aside, wouldn’t Aziraphale have nested earlier, if that had been on his mind? At least lately, as within the last 200 years where he’d had an actual base of operations he could use as a nest, and yet, up until this point, he had not so much as hinted that he wanted to, despite all the time they’d spent together. Wasn’t that evidence enough?

A point could be made that Crowley could’ve gone and started nesting himself, if that was what he wanted from Aziraphale, and it would be a good point.

Except for a few snags. First of all, it wasn’t as though Aziraphale ever came to his flat, so he wouldn’t be able to see it if he had done it. Second of all, he actually had started once or twice, or maybe more than that, realised what he’d been doing and had pulled it down in case the angel showed up and got the wrong, or right, impression.

He hadn’t even dared think at the time about what the reaction to it would be.

That he’d struggled with himself every step of the way of dismantling every single one of them was another matter entirely.

The point was that he had attempted it before now, because he couldn’t help himself, hadn’t been aware he’d done it until afterwards, or he’d thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be a chance for him only to get scared of losing what he already had and pulling it down. There’d never been anything remotely like that from Aziraphale, Crowley knew. He’d spent enough time in the bookshop that he would spot it if anything changed, as proven when he’d seen it earlier.

He still wanted to nest for his angel so badly but hadn’t dared to, not properly to show it off to him, in case he’d be rejected. No, not in case. In the certainty he would. Nesting wasn’t for a demon, was it? Neither for it to build nor be the recipient of.

And now he’d missed whatever miniscule chance he might’ve had; Aziraphale’s heart had been captured by someone else, enough so that he was prepared to commit himself to making a proper nest out of his beloved bookshop. One he was satisfied enough with to not only not pull it down but add to it. Slowly perfecting it.

For someone else. Someone who wasn’t Crowley.

No. No! No, he wasn’t. He definitely wasn’t nesting. He couldn’t be nesting, he just – he couldn’t!

Crowley realised then that he’d grabbed onto the bedding on either side of him hard and had begun to pull at it as though it had somehow offended him and deserved to be destroyed. He had also begun to hiss, as he did when he forgot himself. However, this wasn’t the soft hiss of contentment that sometimes slipped out when he was enjoying himself, usually around Aziraphale. This was a hiss of pain, even if it was an emotional pain rather than a physical one.

Taking a deep breath and then several more, as the first one didn’t help much, he told himself again that it was wrong. That’d he’d misinterpreted something as innocent as Aziraphale sprucing up the shop a bit. For his own benefit, of course. Not for anyone else’s.

Aziraphale barely had any contact with Heaven beyond what was strictly necessary to keep them off his back, and what he did have didn’t sound at all nice. There was no way that with that, he’d somehow managed to find himself a soulmate that he’d want to nest for.

No way at all.

Telling himself that, firmly, he laid down to get some sleep.

If he had dreams in which he kept falling, what of it? Those were hardly new.

The addition of reaching out towards a familiar body with its back turned to him and arms and wings wrapped around it from in front of it was new, though, as was the cry of a treasured name. One which wasn’t acknowledged.

He wished he could say he didn’t remember what he’d dreamed about when he woke. What he could do was push it as far out of his conscious mind as was at all possible, and that was what he did.

It took a few days, but he managed it.

That he had to avoid Aziraphale for those days was another matter. The angel thought he was on a job somewhere else in the city, thankfully, and wasn’t available.

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By the time they met up again, a few weeks rather than a few days later, Crowley had successfully managed to not only suppress the nightmare but convince himself that Aziraphale wasn’t nesting.

That they met somewhere that wasn’t the bookshop was an irrelevant detail. Aziraphale had offered to treat him to some dessert so how could he refuse?

It was quite a worthy enterprise, too, as it always was when the angel was allowed to choose the venue. Crowley was quite good, too, thank you very much, but he wasn’t quite as adept at finding the hidden gems as Aziraphale.

One dessert turned to two then three. Then a fourth, with a side of Irish Coffee and then something a bit…stronger.

They got some wine to go, under the influence of Crowley’s glare rather than Aziraphale’s polite smile, then headed back to the bookshop, which the demon didn’t think twice about. It wasn’t as though it was an uncommon occurrence. Quite the opposite.

That didn’t last long, though.

The moment he stepped over the threshold, he stopped dead. There it was again, that feeling that –

He had to grip onto the doorframe to keep himself upright as it came flooding back to him.

“Crowley? What’s wrong?” Aziraphale asked from behind him. He sounded concerned but then, he would if there was something the matter with his beloved bookshop.

Crowley managed to pull himself together.

“Nothing. Just…dizzy for a moment, that’s all.” To emphasise his point, and also just a little because he did need it, he leaned his back against the doorframe.

Aziraphale moved closer to him and looked him up and down, what Crowley might have termed, in other circumstances, a light frown of concern marring his forehead.

“Oh, dear. Was the wine too much? Or the combination? Perhaps it’s best if we call it a night, then?”

Part of Crowley – to be fair, quite a large part – agreed with that assessment, though not necessarily for the reason Aziraphale thought, and what was more, was touched by the consideration the angel displayed for him.

There was a part of him, however, a little, nasty part, which hadn’t forgotten about the nesting part, that whispered to him that of course Aziraphale wanted to call it a night. He’d obviously done more decorating on the bookshop, the nest, and didn’t want Crowley to see, either because he might worry that he’d get the wrong impression or because it was at a stage where it wasn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but his intended.

No. That couldn’t be right. Why would he have invited him over to the shop in the first place, then?

But had he really? Or had Crowley just assumed because that was how it went, and Aziraphale had been too polite to say anything? Was so polite, in fact, that he even framed the dismissal as a question of consideration.

The demon tried to look and see if there was anything else in that expression of apparent concern. Something that might clue him into what the angel was really thinking.

He couldn’t find it. But perhaps he wasn’t aware that he actually wanted Crowley out of there, which would leave his surface expression quite…innocently true, as it were, while not negating the rest. The fact that he was tipsy probably also made it harder for him to remember that he didn’t want the demon here.

For a moment, Crowley considered pushing past it. Put on a brave face and pretend that it was fine, he’d only been processing the sugar or something. Ignore what Aziraphale might want and go into the shop, right into where the evidence was. Show the angel that wasn’t going to sit idly by and –

The thought of how Aziraphale might react to that breach of trust or whatever you might call it stopped him, though. Or maybe it was the bile in his throat. Or perhaps a combination.

Whatever the case, he backed out of the thought almost as soon as it had formed.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale said, his tone questioning. He’d stepped closer, his hand hovering in a raised position as though he had just about stopped himself from touching.

Something twisted in Crowley’s belly at that.

“Yeah…perhaps. Perhaps you’re right. I should – ehm, yeah, definitely.” He was happy that his sunglasses were currently rather large, as the risk of his eyes being visible was greatly reduced that way.

He wasn’t expecting the words that came next.

“Would you like to have a lie-down? I know it’s in the back of the shop, but the sofa is long enough to accommodate you, so perhaps – “

The sofa. The sofa. The thing that had been upgraded not just with new cushions but with actual new upholstery – which hadn’t even been needed!

One of the very things that had clued him in that his angel might be nesting for someone, someone who wasn’t Crowley, and he expected him to be able to have a lie-down there? That he would feel better after staying on that piece of furniture?

“No, I’m – I’ll just go for a walk or something,” he managed to say. To his own ears his voice sounded wrong, croaky and echoey at the same time, but that might just be the alcohol’s doing.

If Aziraphale heard it, he didn’t show it.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah. Course. Probably too much sugar or something. Enhances the alcohol.” He didn’t feel drunk right now, though, just queasy. “Like with fruit, you know.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course. Should I – “

Should. Not ‘would you like’ or ‘do you want me to’. No. Should. As though he was obligated to…

He waved a hand, somehow managing to make it seem flowing and nonchalant.

“Nah. I’ll be fine,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry about, about me. Go on in.”

He swallowed around a lump in his throat and managed a smile as he pushed himself off the doorframe. Though his face was tilted towards the other, he wasn’t actually looking at him. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his slightly unsteady gait, even compared to normal, not due to alcohol at all.

He didn’t notice that Aziraphale stood standing in the doorway to his bookshop and watched him until he was out of sight and consequently, he didn’t see the expression on the other’s face, either.

All that kept replaying in his mind was that tableau that had assaulted him the moment he’d looked into the shop.

There hadn’t just been more clean-up, more attempts to make it cosy and inviting in a way it’d never quite been before, just in case it did attract custom.

The clincher to say Aziraphale was nesting, what had made him nauseous, even as innocuous as it seemed, sat there in plain sight.

A feather on the floor.

[thatanonwiththeoc]

The Taste Of Coffee Ch. 1

A Lukagami fic. Read on AO3

I guess I’m cross posting on tumblr now lol

Part 2

Of all the places the universe could’ve landed her, it turned out to be here.

Staring her right in the face.

Kagami instantly recognized the boat in front of her. It was the Couffaine’s residence that she’d visited a few times before with Adrien, ever the same familiar clashing colors bearing into the eyes, screaming as loud as the music it played. Kagami sometimes wondered how they only got in trouble with the police once out of the many times they’d been playing on the deck. She could absolutely testify to how the music they played shook even her own inner being.

But anyways, that was irrelevant to the reason she was here in the first place.

After telling her closest (girl) friend that she’d taken an interest into playing guitar, Marinette brightened and almost instantly scratched down an address into her sketchbook. It was a wonder to Kagami how the paper still held intact by the violent way she ripped it out. Still, she’d be lying if the way Marinette winked at her didn’t send a sneaky suspicion through her.

‘This person’s a great teacher.’ Marinette beamed. A little too friendly and innocent even for Marinette, but she just chalked it up to not having much experience in the ‘friends’ department, ‘Plus, they’re pretty cute too if you’re into that.’

Kagami made sure to give her a good whack in the arm for that last comment.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she realized who would probably be teaching her. “Of course that’s what she meant by ‘cute’.” She said to herself.

However, she wasn’t one to be defeated by a little shyness. Or even the godforsaken emotion of hesitance. She asked for guitar lessons, and she was going to get it. No matter how painfully awkward it would’ve been if it was coming from her sort-of-ex’s new girlfriend’s old sort-of-ex. Kagami was on a mission, and she was determined to complete it.

Kagami knocked on the door. Three times, as she was taught to do since she was little.

It was a sort of bitter reminder of what her and Adrien was. Of course she was happy for Adrien and Marinette, she loved them both in her own unique way. But the sting of seeing him happy with someone else that wasn’t her still didn’t sit well with her even weeks after their relationship began.

Okay, it hurt a lot, but she’d be damned before she let either of them know that.

They deserved that much happiness, and Kagami wouldn’t dare intrude on that.

Her mother’s voice rang in her ears.

‘Second place is never a spot for us.’

Kagami shook her head, trying to forget about her mother for once. It definitely wasn’t what she needed to hear right about now.

Thankfully, reality came back to her when the door gave way to a familiar, friendly face.

“Hello.” Kagami greeted. She mentally ran through her to-do list on Social Interaction 101.

Luka shot her an easy-going smile that showed his teeth. Kagami had to admit, she was in a way, envious of how easy he held himself around others. Should she smile back? “Kagami! Come in, please.”

Discarding her previous thoughts, she instead decided to simply bow her head and avoid words altogether. Actions worked better for her than words anyway, they always came out more clipped and harsher than she intended it too.

As was expected from his proposal, she made her way inside to the common area of the ship-house. In her mind, a thousand different questions roared about how she should walk, how she should handle herself, when would be a good time to speak up or let him lead the conversation. It was a wonder how she even made it to the sofa in one piece. Kagami sat upright with perfect posture. It was probably the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Keep the legs together, and the hands on the lap. Perfect. She was going to make the most of this new path and relish in the glory of talking to people like a winner.

Luka leaned over the counter from across the room, as calm and hospitable as ever. “So, what brings you here onto my humble ship?”

Right, of course. Point of contact. Classic social connection basics.

“I’ve heard you teach guitar lessons.” Kagami stated, more than asked. “I was hoping that you’d teach me how to play.”

Luka chuckled lowly. “Funny you say that, actually.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Marinette convinced me to start teaching yesterday, as it would turn out. Consider it fate.”

Kagami coughed.

So Marinette put him up to his, huh?

She shook her head. What was her quirky friend up to?

“Everything okay?” Luka asked, and Kagami had to resist the urge to lose her composure right then and there. If not for her sake, then for the boy in front of her from across the room who was looking at her with a bit of worry in his eyes. Kagami held up a hand in front of her, straight up towards the ceiling. Ordered and proper, like she always knew herself to be.

“It’s fine.” She said. A little more dismissive than she meant it to be. “It’s just a coincidence, is all.” A really funny coincidence. In the broadest definition of the word.

“Alright then.” Luka turned around and opened a cupboard behind him, bringing Kagami back to attention. The wood squeaked a high note as he did so. “Do ya want some coffee? I’ve been learning how to make some.”

Kagami furrowed her eyebrows. From her experience, coffee was never really something she liked to begin with. The bitter taste it always left in her mouth made her want to gag sometimes. She’d much preferred a nice hot cup of tea over the brown bean juice any day. It was familiar, reminded her of her relatives distant in a land she hadn’t visited in a while. Green matcha was her favorite. Flavorful, yet still enough room for the senses to breathe.

Still, her mind flashed through the countless online articles she’d studied on how to make friends. Kagami could recall one in particular.

‘If you want to get to know a potential friend better, it might help to talk to them over a nice cup of coffee.’

Kagami conceded. Seemed like fate had different plans for her.

“Yes please.” She said.

“Great!” Luka chirped, already grabbing two round mugs. “How do you want it?”

Her mind blanked at the unexpected question. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t sure what to do. There was more than one type of coffee?

Thankfully, she was as quick as ever to come up with a quick answer.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, thank you.”

Ha! Operation: Converse with Luka is a go.

He seemed unphased. “Alright then. Two mochas, coming right up!”

At that, Luka got straight to work, pulling out a choice few instruments that Kagami couldn’t recognize at first. It was as if he was in his own world as he created their drinks, pacing to and fro between stations with a grace that she only saw in her own fencing. But it was slightly different, as if he didn’t have as much of a system, and more of a flow; a rhythm that no one could hear but himself. It was entrancing, in a way.

A short burst of hope bloomed in her chest when he made his way towards her with their finished drinks.

When he set them off the table, she was almost caught speechless. On the top of the mugs, there were illustrations of a brown and white heart, outlined by streaks that surrounded its outer edge. It was beautiful, really. How did he manage to create something like this using nothing but a bit of steamed milk? Must’ve been the dexterity that stemmed from being a skilled guitarist, she figured.

“It’s beautiful.” She commented. Her eyes were still fixated on the drinks before them.

“Thank you.” Luka smiled as he offered her one. She took it gracefully, and took a nice warm sip. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as face-scrunchingly strong like she expected it to be. It still had the richness of coffee that Adrien liked to rant to her about. She was made aware of that much thanks to him, but there was also a thick, blissful layer of sweetness that she didn’t know coffee was even capable of! What was his secret, the madman?

“Excuse me.” She asked. “This is really good. I’d like to know what you put in it, if you may.”

Luka laughed lightly and gave a small shrug, careful not to spill his drink. “I don’t know. It’s nowhere near as well as I’ve seen. I just used a little bit of pre-ground, chocolate syrup and some steamed milk on top.”

“But the hearts?” Kagami asked.

Pink suddenly dusted his cheeks, which she wasn’t expecting at all. Kagami was quite sure she’d never seen him flustered. Ever! “As for the hearts, well… it’s the only thing I know how to make when it comes to latte art, so you’ll have to excuse me for that-”

“It’s okay.” She interrupted, holding the mug close to her lip. “I like the hearts.”

“Oh.” He blinked, unsure of what to say. “Okay then.”

As Luka took another, longer sip of his coffee, Kagami had to resist the urge to jump out the window and into the Seine. What the heck did she even just say? And why so sudden? Damn her inability to talk properly like a normal person! Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this whole thing after all.

No, she told herself, this interaction could still be saved. The right opportunity just needed to come, and this time, she would make sure to cease the opportunity as soon as it arrived.

And it came when Luka spoke up again.

“Kagami, if I may so politely ask,” he said, as if trying to muster up all of the properness he could, “what made you want to learn guitar in the first place?”

Nope, forget that. She was just going to have to deflect that particular question.

Kagami cleared her throat awkwardly. “No reason.”

“C’mon, you and I both know that’s not true.” He teased, leaning on his fist as he propped an elbow onto the back rest of the couch. “Why does Kagami Tsurugi of all people want to learn the humble six-string?”

She mulled over her possible options to respond appropriately to the conversation. Maybe she’d just have to learn to roll with it if their future lessons were going to be anything like this. Was this a test? Hopefully, she’d pass with flying colors. That’d show him.

“I like how it brings people together.” Kagami stared at her cup of coffee, now half-finished. The slight swirl of it inside the mug reminding her of the ebb and flow of those around her that always seemed to elude herself. It was true what she said, she’d made it her mission to make more meaningful friendships ever since that fateful day she managed to become a friend to Marinette, of all people. She was amazing, in all senses of the word. She made her wonder exactly how much she was missing out on in the world. “I’ve seen how happy people are around Kitty Section, and it makes me want to try doing something similar.”

Not only that, but she also wanted to do something outside of her mother’s knowledge for once. Her heart ached for something novel, a new path that would reap some results that wasn’t from the request of her mother, but of her own initiative and being. Was that so wrong?

It wasn’t until Luka leaned in closer beside her that Kagami realized she was hunching in on herself and slowly leaning towards him. Since when did she lose her posture like that? She fixed her posture before she could do something stupid like talking about her feelings. There was a sudden distance between them that suddenly felt a bit empty to her.

“That’s really flattering of you, actually.” He tilted his head. “I’m honored to have been the one to inspire you to learn.”

Kagami raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really.” After setting his drink on the table, he pulled out an acoustic guitar from behind the couch. Since when was that there? “So, what are you interested in learning?”

“Isn’t that your job?” She quipped.

Luka started tuning the guitar, his eyes on the head while still listening to her. “True, but it helps to know what you like.”

Kagami hummed. “I’ve only ever been exposed to classical music.” That, and the fact that she’d never gone out of her way to develop a palette for the art medium. Not that she’d ever admit to it, though. She’d come to learn that normal people actually listened to music for fun and not to one up each other in an arms race to prove who had the better, more acquired taste.

Yeah, normal people were a bit different than what she was used to.

He whistled low. “That might take a while.” He said, strumming a chord. To her, it sounded fairly in tune but he proceeded to fiddle with the pegs anyway. “Classical pieces are a bit tricky.”

She straightened and held his gaze. “I’m more than willing to dedicate myself to it.”

“I definitely don’t doubt that.” Luka nodded, getting her point. “Alright then. It’s settled.”

He began playing absentmindedly and looked back at her, not even looking down at his hands. “What times work for you?”

At that, they were able to work out a time in their schedules for both of them that would work. A surprisingly easy feat, since it seemed that other than his part-time delivery job, his schedule was pretty much free. A bit of a contrast to her own weekly plans, but it wasn’t like she was going to voice her complaints. Kagami was eager to get as much practice done as soon as possible. She was going to learn this instrument. She was determined to.

“I’m glad we were able to get an arrangement down.” She set her coffee down and held out a hand, just like she’d read. Palm directly forward to the recipient, with her forearm coming up at a 45 degree angle. Luka eyed her hand, an unreadable expression on his face. “It’s a high-five.” She said, hoping he’d follow. “You see, you smack it with your own hand. A casual gesture to demonstrate our agreement.”

Luka nodded with an amused smile on his face. “I know what a high-five is.” He high-fived her hand with just enough force to emit the sound of a light smack. Good, they were able to seal the deal with a good natured high-five. Kagami dared thought she was getting pretty good at this ‘talking to people’ thing.

“I’ll see you next Saturday, then?” Luka placed his finished drink back on the table and stood up, all while towering over her. Kagami always wondered why the universe made her so small and short, when people like Luka seemed to be given the luck of the draw in that department. She just supposed she had to make do with what she got. Flexible, her mother would say. Flexible and adaptable.

“That’s the plan.” Standing up, she brushed down her blazer and skirt, trying to smooth down any wrinkles in the fabric before fixing her posture so she could try and at least look taller than she actually was. “Thank you for having me, but I’m afraid I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

Luka put his hands on his hips. “You’re always welcome here, Kagami.”

Oh?

“Sorry, come again?”

“I said, you’re more than welcome down here on good ol’ Liberty.” He gestured to the room around them, and as if to illustrate his point, the boat rocked the slightest bit. “And besides, don’t worry about ‘overstaying your welcome’. There’s no debt among friends after all.”

Kagami felt a familiar warmth bloom in her chest at the word. A warmth that she’d been hoping to chase for a while.

She lifted her chin up towards him in question. “As friends?”

Luka smiled warmly. “As friends.”

Kagami couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face.

Yes! They were friends now! To think, all she had to do was speak to him over a cup of coffee.

Kagami rummaged through her research to find an appropriate way to thank him. Any way to express her gratitude for his kindness.

One of them only sounded more appropriate, but it was a little sudden.

But then again, Kagami was never one to hesitate.

So, she stepped forward and raised her arms.

And wrapped them around his torso in a hug.

Hugs weren’t something Kagami was all that acquainted with. What with having the little friends she had, and a mother that didn’t give them at all, for that matter.

But now, she had to admit that hugging felt sort of nice.

It was made even better when Luka wrapped his arms around her head and pulled her in close. His own warmth enveloping her into a bliss that Kagami wanted more of. The smallest scent of denim tickled her nose, and for the first time in a while, she liked the silence of the room more than anything before. It wasn’t awkward, even though it should’ve been. Her own (failed) first kiss with Adrien was a hot mess that she wanted to completely forget about for even trying. But for some reason, Kagami could never imagine herself ever coming to regret hugging Luka.

Maybe this would run deeper than she thought.

Kagami pushed away, not expecting the sudden thought to arrive. The sudden heat in her cheeks were not a welcome addition, either.

She tried to fix her stance before walking out. “I-I should get going.”

What the hell was that? She never stuttered. Ever! That was Marinette’s thing!

“Wait!” Luka stopped her in her tracks. “Aren’t you going to finish your coffee?”

Kagami paused, unable to answer. The coffee was pretty nice actually, and it’d be a shame to decline the gift of her host.

He seemed to be able to read her expression, because he made his way towards the counter. “I’ll put it in a to-go cup for you.” The scent carried all the way through to her nose as he poured the coffee into a bright blue plastic mug. The same color as his hair. “Here, you can give it back on our first lesson.”

The kind, disarming smile he sent her was enough to make her heart clench. What game was he playing on her?

Kagami was fairly sure that the heat in her cheeks was about the same temperature as the drink in her hands, but she hoped that it didn’t mean whatever she thought it did. This was absolutely no time to be crushing on her new mentor. Nope, no way. That would be absolutely disastrous for her efforts in learning the new instrument. He’d just be another distraction, no matter how sweet he was.

A voice in her head piped up despite all of the orderly, logical reasoning that she’d been trained upon ever since she was an infant.

But would a new distraction be so bad if it came with something; someone new?

As she stood outside the boat, she gazed up at the blue, blue sky. It reminded her of new opportunities to come, more stories to be told, new events that fate was going to put into her hands, of opportunities that awaited her on the other side of whatever this new feeling was. It was similar to how she felt around Adrien, but new. New and different. It wasn’t the same, but different. In a good way, she felt.

Kagami looked down at the drink she held in both hands, close to her heart.

It was a promise.

She smiled.

Maybe she could learn to love the taste of coffee after all.

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

The deal with my deer tail: Continued from the last tagged post (MENTIONS OF EX’S AND OHS OFF THE PORT BOW).

Like, I’m very painfully aware that this is %200 a trauma/coping thing that I’ve developed for myself now because deer were … My exe’s absolute favorite animal of all time ever and he associated with them deeply in regards to certain aspects of his personality and hobbies and this kinda plays a little bit into why I was attracted to him in the first place because it was such unique interest for someone to have and then ….Of course his favorite film ever was “Bambi” like, to the point of having the plushies and the original ORIGINAL book by Felix Salten along with it’s original sequel book and everything and it’s like …So odd for me because I live right by the woods in the middle of nowhere anyway and not a day goes by without discussion of these creatures in my house or without an offer to go “deer spotting” or “Bambi Spotting”… And I don’t have much room to say “no” because who would say “no” to deer sighting so I typically just go along with as if it doesn’t effect me because I have no choice…..  And anyway outside of my home life I know tumblr typically loves deer and deer aesthetics as well and while I thought I’ve been trying to go out of my way to avoid this particular animal (at least on social media if I’m unable to in my home life) for the longest time because I associate them so deeply with my ex … Because deer were *HIS* thing … I’m slowly coming to terms with this creeping realization that I’ve had that I’ve not only been surrounded by the actual animal since before I met him …. But I’ve also just … Been surrounded by just …. All these deer characters and deer aesthetic since he left me…. And that also hurts me ….Because ….Since he’d been trying to find ways to get back in contact with me for the better part of the decade yearly since then, without ever apologizing, and since 2017 I’ve only had two years without receiving something from him in order to fully process how he’d been in my life for a near full decade like, wether I wanted  him to be or not … That sort of just … devolved into this odd habit of me projecting unto certain characters with these kind of aesthetics and relationship dynamics to help cope because he never gave me anything else and it’s weird because I started to seek out these things and look at them in context to my relationship with this person and I just felt ….. bittersweet but okay because I would think of him and I would think of the way that he used to make me feel and feel and I would feel sad but because of the nature and narrative that I was projecting toward I would also feel comforted in a way and validated and calm? Which is also the way I’d start to feel whenever I’d see an actual deer or mention of deer or even see clips or concept art from “Bambi” or a baby deer …

But ………

So back in 2018, just a couple days after what would have been one of our “anniversaries” had past, and I hadn’t even keeping track of how many at that point but like, basically something happened that triggered me into a remember the time that in 2013 he had found my tumblr and followed me without warning, context or permission, without even speaking to me after finding me the year before this just to let me know how much he couldn’t care less about me, apparently ….. which, sure, Jan.

But … This time he was freaking me out because he was just following me silently on a blank account out of nowhere and I kind of managed to find what could’ve been considered my first ever girlfriend within the six months to a year that he’d been out of my life and it is me and this new girl had only “official” for 3 days after like, 6 months of slow burn flirting with each other and then this other cowardice arsehole who didn’t even have the dignity to speak to me proper was … Someone who had known for me for 3 years and someone whom I had once shared the most intimate parts of myself with.

In short I could already foresee this becoming a pattern after he’d managed to contact me the last time so I ended up breaking down and having a panic attack.

I didn’t know what to do and I felt sick to my stomach and I didn’t want him putting me in a spot, so…  I made a screen cap and a post and kind of explaining who he was and how he hurt me and how I didn’t want him hurting my girlfriend or anyone else so just PLEASE don’t talk to him etc. And then I blocked him and threw up. And would-be-girlfriend blocked me the next day because of this…

A couple weeks later around New Years, I decided to log into the old hotmail account that I had just because I was curious….

The first email that he sent me was to let me know that he was going to follow me on tumblr and he was asking how my Christmas was and inquiring how I was doing, he wanted to know if I was “fine”. His version of pet names all included as if nothing had gone wrong between us ….

The next three emails, sent within minutes of each other, each only sentences long, were all responding to my reaction to his following me on tumblr without a word, without context, and seemingly without context …. These emails all of which I did not end up saving or screen caping because…. I’m pretty much 99% freaking. Percent. SURE! That he stated something passively along the lines of: “ If I REALLY wanted to *BLANK* , I would have done so… >.>” cause I distantly remember his little side eye emoji that he placed after the words “done so”  and like, it’s really easy to kind of place the words “HURT YOU” in the middle of that, because that’s what I was talking about him doing in context, which would lead to at least vaguely remembering this in a full sentence as: “If I REALLY wanted to hurt you, I would have done so … >.>”

So yes, I’m at least 99% sure that he had threatened me, like that …  

And of course I didn’t respond, but I do remember feeling threatened enough that it made my heart race and it made me cry and I needed to ask my mom for champaign to calm and I also remember that the whole reason why I didn’t save those emails was because if I did it would make the threat real and would need to tell my parents and I just didn’t want to think of him that way or what he’d meant by that and because this was already becoming a pattern, I didn’t want to spend another entire year of being paranoid he was planning something …

And he also kept going about what a nice guy he was and told me to have a nice life and told me he was gonna check up on me anymore and said that I treated him like shit …

So I just took a sip of my champaign, told myself I’d see him in a year, and deleted his emails… This was in 2013.

In 2014, I caught him spying on me through the visitors page of an account I’d already gone out of my way to block him on, and I noticed that, even though it been two years, he still had the icon that I had personally picked out for him as his avatar, an odd memory to keep from someone you claim to not care about, constantly ….

In 2015,  he sent me a silent skype request…

In 2016.. He found my tumblr again …Actually saying something where I could access it this time … He sent me like, 7 IM’s and for the most part was back to being nice as pie, back to his version of calling me pet names and everything …  claimed that he just wanted to say Hello …

He said that we could talk someday if I wanted to and that it was up to me … I still didn’t answer, because for one this was past midnight on Friday The 13th and when I saw that I had 7 IM’s and a new follower I just …. I got this sinking gut feeling that I knew that it was him and then I told myself that I was being paranoid again and that he couldn’t possibly because I’d already blocked him and so I opened up the messages just to prove to myself that I was wrong and got met with his username and a single smiley face emoji like:

:)

“:)” Was the first thing I saw when I opened his messages…

And I immediately closed them out again and I closed tumblr out and I just sat there …. for awhile … Because the last thing he did say to me verbally was to threaten me and tell me that I treated him like shit …  And I had no way of knowing what could be behind that smiley face …

But I needed to know … So I opened the messages and read them …

And that’s when he went back to being as nice as his own pie recipe and seemingly pretending like those emails and the spying didn’t happen …

Like, I don’t know if he knew I knew about them, but I have an inkling he must’ve otherwise he wouldn’t have been that cocky … “:)” is not a friendly smiley face, nor will it ever be.

And in the middle before all that he was like: “Let’s hope you don’t bite my head off this time …. xD” referring back to only the 2013 incident when I said something indirectly and that scared away the girl I was about to maybe start something with, again as if that didn’t happen ….

So, I didn’t answer him, because he didn’t earn it.

So like yeah, back in 2018, due to …. certain contexts of certain things which would also lead into me having anticipated myself getting caught up in an over abundance of people’s appreciation for deer, due to something that I not mention, I’d also been triggered/hit with a sharp realization that, October 27th, 2019 would have been the 10 year anniversary of having met that person in the first place, if he hadn’t discarded me after 3 years and then spent like, the better part of the decade trying to get in contact with me, upon the deeper realization that, even as of now, I’ve only really officially had this person out of my life for two years, and on top of that, he’d still find a way of showing up in my life Every. Single. Year. For the past four years. And now I would have to be dealing with an over abundance of deer and ‘Bambi’ references and puns, even more so than I obviously did and still do now, in my home life…

So my reaction was to laugh. REALLY fucking hard. And then I realized that deer might actually just…. LEGIT be my trigger always and then I started crying laughing cause I was just like “OH dear GOD… (and I can’t even like, say that that or type that without it already being a pun without it being a pun …which only makes it FUNNIER …) I might LEGIT have Bambiphobia!”

And then I broke down. Because I didn’t know how to feel about this or how I was gonna deal with it.

I’m still figuring out how I feel about this and how I’m dealing with it ….

My ex  …. Was….He wasn’t a very complex boy but, he had always been more ,… In touch with things like femininity and sensitivity, or at least made a show of it, but I’d like to think he was genuinely like that considering what his interests were and he might’ve been autistic too just, looking back on things in context?

(His absolute FAVORITE music to listen to was also Owl City and he loved Adam Young, and considering Adam Young is self diagnosed and my ex’s special interest in deer, and Bambi and the books and the plushies and the the way he could just …talk and talk to me about anything for hours and hours and hours and we’d never we’d never get tired of each other…. I’ve just been doing all this math in my head I’m not trying to imply anything bad about these things and they all play into factors of why I was originally attracted to him to begin with).

He openly identified as Bisexual before I even knew what that was for myself and still kind of considered myself “Straight but not Narrow TM” or whatever kind of definition I saw on Television.

He wrote poetry as a hobby and of course knew how to play the piano while I did none of those things.

He was 17 when I met him but due to cultural difference of where he lived… he enjoyed wine and opera.

He was extremely well spoken and charming and articulate, and he also loved Mr. Rodger’s and Albert Einstein to the point of just having just … One big black and white poster of Albert in his room and one time, he was going on about his admiration for Rodger’s and so innocently told me how he intended to write and send him fan-letters one day and then reasonably became extremely upset when I informed that Rodger’s passed away, and I felt even more so helpless to comfort him when he asked me if I could tell him a little bit more about Rodger’s life to make him feel better and I knew absolutely nothing about the man aside from vaguely remembering that I used to watch his show when I was small …

So yeah my ex’s personality could essentially be summed up as: “ Eccentric, Silly “Smart” boy”, if I needed to …

He once excused himself when I told him that I needed to eat soon and came back, all decked out in a tuxedo to “have dinner together”, and I was about to eat a taco…

This one time he noticed that I was super uncomfortable and upset because I just watched this disgusting ableist film that had like incest in and shit and I didn’t wanna tell him but he got it out it out of me and HE KNEW WHAT FILM I WAS TALKING ABOUT AND THEN WANT ON BIG RANT AND ESSAY ABOUT HOW VILE IT WAS AND HOW I SHOULD PAY IT NO MIND AND AFTERWARDS HE WAS LIKE: “You know what? We need some music to wash the taste out of our mouths…” and then he just started playing the piano to calm me down further.

And I’m only saying it like this because incase no one has noticed it’s been a little bit more… Confusing? For me to try and throw a man like this into everyone’s typical “FuckBoyTM” box and call that “Healing”.

I wouldn’t even wanna put labels on him …  

I genuinely feel as though I would need to think back to olden times in order to find a way to insult him that would accurately combat and deconstruct the amount of passion we brought out in each other, if it is appropriate to speak of my feelings for him in this context.

His mistreatment of women that he did not like …. Left much to be desired in regards to his attitude. Though his comments were mostly reserved for his half sister, my half sister, and fictional characters and I’m not bringing this up to try and say that this was justified or frame it into a: “Well, he never did that to ME sort of picture …” Though, the odd thing is that, for all the things that my younger self had shared with him, after his abandonment, ever year for four years I’d kept on waiting for the shoe to drop and for him to call me names and slurs and for the verbal abuse to finally commence and he just …

He wouldn’t do any of that. He never did. Not once. Not even during times he would get angry with me when we were together.

So when HE DID, lose his patience with me, he never resorted to name calling, so when he said and did things that hurt me, that he should’ve known better for doing, that meant he was really fucking harsh ….

So harsh, that one night….. It would be the final night I’d ever thought I’d speak to him again. Or at least begin to test him to see if he would come back and apologize and therein lies the the issue: HE ALWAYS came back, HE NEVER apologized.

Perfect. Gentleman. (Of course I’m using sarcasm).

Seriously, you know that new chat post about Male Victorian Novel Protagonist has fucked by his Lady Love and Knows This, BUT is Too Proud to admit this though still pines for her so when he speaks to her now he just: *sweats*…Is your family in good health?

Legit triggers my PTSD cause for the past four years with me it’s been just: Hey mate. Wanted to see how your X-mas was. Is your family okay? Are you fine? I’ve got some time off… Okay fine, I won’t check on you anymore, it’s not like I still love you or anything, baka! >.<  *cue two more  years of silent bating before* Hey kiddo you doing okay? I know it’s late but my days off today and if you wanna talk someday you can I’ll leave you alone now! :)

Like I know I’m paraphrasing but that’s pretty much it (and I know I know I’m sorry for the “baka” joke, but he WAS a huge otaku nerd to a certain extent and all the anime that I would watch before I really started interacting with AMV editing community on YouTube was recommended him so needless to say I do not watch Anime so much anymore but I couldn’t resist making a “baka” joke in my own mind while reading his poorly veiled passive aggression and it’s written down and out of my system how I’m gotten to properly share one of the ways I’ve teased him for this if only in my own mind.

The thing that makes me feel weird/guilty about all this though is despite his behavior suspicious as shenanigans, he’d only ever attempt close contact once per year (as far as I know) and as far as I know aside from that one time I’d caught him spying on an art group from an account I’d already blocked him on which I don’t really know how he found (which okay, still a little shaken up about that one every time I type about it) his way of always popping up in my life somehow never really strayed from his ordinarily open way of trying to do it, and he’d never verbally abuse me or call me names or slurs while this was happening, despite how condescending or ominous he was while trying to get a razzle out of me …

MEANWHILE, because I let him get a razzle out of me, no matter how long ago it was before I found cpunk, I ended up deliberately calling him an extreme ableist slur just to send him away from away from me, over what was nothing more than a silly misunderstanding and classic case of miscommunication because I couldn’t see his first email and didn’t think to check before I went off on him, regardless if the misunderstanding could’ve been prevented if he communicated directly or not.

And I was too caught up in my reaction to him choosing being ominous and condescending when once he finally decided to try to speak to me again after two years of silent lurking after the last time he tried to speak to me he passively threatened me, that I didn’t get to take back the use of my ableist language toward when I had the chance. Which is the only thing that I’d ever apologize for before his, if he ever gave me one, and of course not conditionally for the both of us.  

My ex’s most sensitive spot has always been his mental health and I’ve always known this because I found out once in the early stages of our relationship when we were roleplaying and I went a little too far with my character, so that’s in 2013 when I panicked I decided to say something…like that to upset him in hopes that he would leave me alone but I was really more hurt than I was scared and I would have confronted him directly but again I had a putting it quite bluntly flakey rebound “girlfriend” at the time and I had no idea where she was and I was freaking out and I didn’t want him putting me in a spot and I didn’t know what would happen if he left me alone. And this was at a time when I was taking the “stealth” mode about being disabled. Partially because of him (Gee I WONDER what could’ve happened).

The only person who knew this about me, very intimately (not intimately enough), was him and of course at the time I would NEVER tell my silly abled-bodied brit of a rebound girlfriend.

So, I did what I did and I said what I said.

At the time I only became slightly afraid when I read his reaction in those emails, and then the next year when I caught him spying on already blocked account and the blocking system worked both ways so I had no way of confronting him about it even if I wanted to ether way.

Though, I was admittedly slightly comforted knowing that he never changed the icon I’d picked out for him ….enough to kinda calm me down a bit…… Is that weird of me? It was weird of him.

Now because of this trigger and the context of certain things as to WHY this was such a strong trigger and in context of certain things that we both said… and in regards of the way he handled trying to get back in contact with me for four years and responded to the one reaction he got out of me and proceeded to continue the pattern for 3 years when he couldn’t just used that time to apologize like I’d been waiting for him to do and meanwhile I’m still… confused  and guilty … because the first and final reaction he ever got out of me was …that.

For the past year now…. I haven’t been able to stop myself from crying and I just don’t feel like I can let it be like this anymore because I already felt awful about everything before but relating everything in context of the trigger which is another case where I could actually use it help cope is just making me feel so much worse.

What makes this even worser though is that this particular trigger is not only very popular and very public and with this substantial involvement of deer and deer aesthetics and then certain aesthetics  and even names …. That I feel like only the two of us would get that it’s just ouch… But like, this thing is also interconnected with Owl City, like not officially but in it’s own way? Which is one of the first things that I thought of once I let the trigger settle because one of the FIRST questions that my ex asked me the day that I met him was wether or not I liked Owl City and I had never even heard of them before so I looked them up and my heart melted and I just knew I had to keep this God Damn Fucking Ray Of Sunshine in my miserable life and never let him go….

And I like to think obviously that the tables must have turned a little bit since then which is another part of what makes using my triggers as coping mechanisms if I can, so cathartic and funny to me and why people can pry this method from my hysterical hands …..

But what I’m getting at here making the Owl City mention even though I hadn’t had myself listen to a single Goddamn thing of theirs for 7 years up until this FREAKING. YEAR (because the tears were already flooding, my honey’s, so I figured MIGHT AS WELL! And yes I did end up crying my eyes out like I knew that would happen if I’d ever let myself listen to Adam Young ever again …) is that… This this thing….. That I love….. Is also a thing my ex would love ….And the reason that all my projectional coping mechanisms work so well is because the dynamics that remind me of our relationship tend to work both ways and is probably part of the reason how I was able to keep (at least reasonably) calm through the 4 years he kept tabs on me was because I felt like I had this very specific trope-y outlet to project my feelings onto and I know that he was a nerd so, if he was … paying attention and absorbing the same media I was …(he would’ve already learned how to apologize…)

No, but seriously, the difference is with THIS media though… Is because it has so many ties to so many of his own aesthetics and things he enjoys …..I just know ….. That he was seeing exactly what I was seeing. I was DREADING the concept of knowing that I was going to fall in love with this thing from the very beginning and it got to the point where I’d be reminded of certain elements I’d forgotten or I’d see certain things play-out for the the first time and, my breath would hitch in my chest …. and I feel guilty (You cannot be attracted to this you cannot be attracted to this you cannot be attracted to this. Not THIS time. Not again. Never again.  Stop it …. Stop it…Stop it.  Because ether way this is bad. This is terrible. This is going to be by far the WORST one because you know it involves the actual THING now for both you instead of just elements of the thing why are you subjecting yourself to this?!  You know he’s seeing this right now….If he watched the Owl City thing that we’re not watching, then he’s watching this. And YOU shouldn’t be watching this ether!

And so, I would discipline myself to disassociate: You will NOT project THAT relationship onto these two characters, they haven’t even interacted yet!

And then …. that happened. They interacted. And it obviously felt so much worse then…. I prepared myself two seconds in for how it was gonna play out. But I wasn’t prepared that it would end ….or even be that close to home. And then I reminded myself that he was probably watching the same thing that I was, as I’ve always done because it was fun being reminded I was right, my only solace really because projecting myself through these characters was the closest I’d ever get to an apology, but the time that the first viewing was over, everything just felt so wrong and I just felt so uncomfortable about everything and I started to cry cause I knew my reactions to this dynamic were gonna be the most intense from here on out and ………I was so confused and afraid of my own emotions at that moment… And I was feeling a lot of them.  

What concerned me the most here though,  was being almost certain of the fact that that, if I was watching and it triggered a reaction, HE was most likely watching and it triggered a reaction.... And given the context of the trigger that I’m talking about .... I mean, if it hit close enough to send me into a freaking emotional whiplash and make ME breakdown and make cry and make sick enough to tell my parents and they didn’t even care ... because they said that they already “knew”...(not even discussing the fact that a year later, I would be assaulted by the one man in my family who should have never been the one to guide me through something so awkward but who “helped” me through this emotionally but, again would beat me a year later while my useless mother watched and laughed and would tell me it was it was my fault and I would end briefly removed from my home because of this because he’d left me with bruises and a permeant physical scar    ... over food) 

...then, I can’t help but think of how my ex would ....Ether be absolutely disgusted with himself or... be... very entertained by all of this. Or both. I know I’ve been both.

And oh, remember all that emotional whiplash I just mentioned in the above paragraph? Well it’s only gotten worse as time went on. Right now I’d say it’s at it’s peak.

Funny this thing is ....I’d been trying to fight back against this temptation to reach out to my ex since this whole thing started and like .... Once we were well into 2019 I just .... realized that fighting this wasn’t going to work anymore if certain circumstances were going to be what they were and things ended up cutting so close to what I feared that it almost doesn’t matter anyway and it still hurts me just as much if not now more so, because of other certain happenings that I will not mention.  

And now I can openly admit why the entirety of 2019 has just felt like a ticking time bomb to me. Like of course there are plenty of other factors adding into why .... I’ve been preparing to go through with reaching out to him now but ,like... My paranoia has been like, trying to tell me that this has all just been one big long game or a test and has been making me feel as though he had somehow pre-planned this all and is he currently anticipating me contacting him before 2019 is over.   

And that notion is driving me just as bananas as the idea of actually letting myself go through with contacting him.

So I might as well.

I mean ....

Our relationship was taken extremely seriously by the the both of us for the most part... up until the end.

And we were technically each others first times. 

We weren’t even dating, really... I just refer to him as my “ex” to make things less complicated..... But for those three years.... We were each others partners....In a way. It just makes things easier to say He Vas My Boyfriend.

I’m suggesting it that would make sense if he would want to try getting back in contact with me and check on me but feel shy and not know how to make it better since he’d have to understand how he fucked up that badly. And for a time... he was the only one who kept extending the invitations for contact.

At least this way I can check to see if he’s okay. 

Everything is so fucked up. I know this.

Though Christmas might be the right time to except his last open invitation, all things considered.

I would’ve originally had more time to plan this out had it not been for everything that happened.

My coping mechanisms are as bitter as wormwood and as sharp as a doubled edge sword. 

I’m just a creature. That’s it. I cannot change this.

I might not be online for a while.

Another Friday the 13th.

Well fancy that.

[starryeyed-char]

Like A Star

It's the two year anniversary of Voltron, and so naturally I have to post something! And the whole thing is actually on tumblr again (though it’ll be on AO3 too, as usual). Season six comes out soon, and I wanted this to go up before that, so here you guys go! Just a heads up; I never cry writing angst, but I cried writing this. No happy endings here. So before you yell at me, I did try and warn you (even though all of you probably skipped over this anyway).

This is my personal take on Lance's whole 'let's go down swinging' philosophy, how I think he’d want to go out, and how I think Keith would react, since it’s a Keith-perspective(ish) piece that still focuses on Lance. I'm not sure if anything like this has been done before, and it probably has knowing how much people in this fandom put Lance through, but this is my take on that. I had the small idea of the title and how it would go and it just kind of... turned into this.

I’ve been wanting to post this for a while, but haven’t because it’s a bit... different than what I usually do. Still, I hope you enjoy, and I always like hearing your thoughts!

“How do you want to die?”

The question came out of nowhere, startling Keith out of his thoughts. He was even more shocked that Lance had asked this, of all people. Lance, who was smiling or laughing more often than not, asking about death?

Keith wouldn't have believed it, if they weren't the only two people standing on the bridge, looking at the star map.

“What...?” he asked intelligently, unsure what else to say. Lance huffed a short laugh.

“How do you want to die?” he repeated. He looked over at Keith this time, and met his eyes. “It's a simple question, really.”

“I... I don't know,” Keith stammered. “I've never really... given it much thought.” And he hadn't. Keith never stopped to consider that death was even a possibility. Because it wasn't an option— they were going to win.

Heroes always won.

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we're kind of fighting an alien war, but sure. Death could never touch the mighty Keith. His mullet is feared in every corner of the universe!” He broke off into laughter, and Keith shoved him lightly, forcing a smile.

“Have you?” Keith asked, genuinely curious. “Thought about it, I mean.”

“Well, yeah,” Lance said, as if it were obvious. As if the very idea of him dying wasn't... impossible. “Of course I have.”

But death could never touch Lance either. Not someone so... radiant, like Lance was in everything he did. Apparently, he didn't see it like that.

“So... how do you want to die, then?”

“Well, when I was little I wanted the end to come on a beach,” Lance began, eyes suddenly a million miles away. Keith didn't miss them snagging on a particular part of the star map. “I had all these dramatic ways cooked up in my head. Maybe I'd drown after getting swept away by a riptide, or I'd get attacked by a shark while surfing. Something really cool like that.”

Keith failed to see how dying could in any way be cool, but he didn't interrupt him.

“And then when I got older... I don't know. I've always had a big family, so I guess I wanted one in the future some day, for myself. A lot of kids, even grandkids, all that nonsense,” Lance told him, with a small smile. “Seems kinda unrealistic now, but... anyway. I think the best way to go would be surrounded by family, by people you care about, people you love, who remind you of the life you lived. You know?”

Keith didn't know, didn't understand, but he nodded along anyway.

“But now that we're here... defenders of the whole freaking universe...” Lance trailed off, sighed, then smiled again. There was something almost bitter in it. “I've had to reevaluate my plans a bit.”

“How so?”

“I want to die like a star,” Lance said, and his voice had suddenly gone so soft that Keith didn't know what to say in response.

“What, like, a movie star? Why does that not surprise me?” Keith tried for humor. The laugh died before it made its way out of his mouth.

Lance glanced at him briefly, then kept going, the words spilling out of his mouth faster and faster as he went on. As if he'd been wanting to say them for a while.

“No, like— an actual star. Shining. Like a big, supernova explosion,” Lance continued. “I want my death to mean something. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll probably die out here, but I don't want to be someone that's just... gone. I want my death to be something everyone else will remember.”

He paused to look at Keith again, who could do nothing but stare at him.

Lance brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I know. It's pretty selfish of me, isn't it?”

Keith shook his head immediately, because Lance wasn't selfish at all. Anything but, really. He just didn't know why it'd taken him so long to notice.

“How...” Keith had never been good at putting his thoughts into words, but he had to try anyway. “How can you just... assume that you're going to die out here?”

You can't die, you can't leave. It's impossible.

“It seems a little unrealistic that we'd all make it out of this unscathed,” Lance pointed out, and since when was he the logical one? “And if any of us was going to be the one to bite it, it'd totally be me, right? You have to realize that.”

Before Keith could even comprehend the meaning of those words, Lance stood up. He patted Keith on the shoulder as he headed for the door, and waved goodbye over his shoulder.

“Let me know when you figure it out! I've always had you pegged for either being too reckless or sacrificing yourself in some grand hero gesture. Sound about right?”

Keith stared after him, looking at Lance like he'd never seen him before.

Months went by, and that conversation was pushed to the back of Keith's mind. He chalked it up to Lance messing with him, and everything else continued as normal.

And then it happened.

The battle was a difficult one, and one they were clearly losing. The Galra fleets just kept coming, seemingly no end to the amount of soldiers they had to fight. A few of the bigger factions after  Zarkon fell had apparently teamed up, and attacked them all at once. They wound up splitting apart Voltron just to take care of them all.

It happened because Shiro and Matt had gone on a separate assignment on a podship a few days prior. Keith was, by chance, back from his latest mission with the Blade, and so had wound up having to pilot the black lion to counter the ambush.

Something he hadn't had to do in a while.

Keith was stupid. Reckless. He forgot that his connection to Black was still weak; he hadn't spent anywhere near enough time piloting the lion to really master it.

So he got in too close to the ship, and his lion froze up. Some sort of tractor beam, it must've been.

Keith was trapped.

And then the Galra began charging their ion cannon.

“Keith, get out of there!” Allura shouted. She was the first one to notice.

“I can't! It's a tractor beam— I can't control the lion! Black won't move!”

“You cannot let that blast hit you!” Pidge insisted. “If it does, it might— you might not make it!”

Keith grit his teeth, pulling desperately at the controls, but it was no use. They'd never been able to escape a tractor beam before without Voltron, or an outside force physically pushing them out of the way. He was stuck.

Stuck, right in the line of fire of something that had nearly destroyed the castle, even with it's massive size and powerful shields.

He wouldn't stand a chance.

“Can we— what can we do? We can get to him, right? We could take out the ship first?” Hunk was clearly growing frantic.

“I... I don't know if there's anything you can do,” Keith said softly.

“The Galra have us completely split up!” Allura reminded them. “We can't possibly work around all these ships and get there in time. There must be another way. Keith, can you try harder to focus on bonding with your lion? If she feels you're in danger, she should protect you!”

He was already trying to concentrate as hard as he possibly could, but nothing was working.

“This is exactly what the Galra wanted to happen,” Pidge realized. He could hear her voice shaking. “Keith— I'm trying to— I'm sorry, I—”

“It's okay,” Keith said, and was surprised to find that he meant it. “It might be too late for me to get completely out of the way, anyway.”

It was strange. Something in Keith's mind registered that this was the end, but an odd sort of calm settled over him.

Lance did say I'd die being reckless.

The thought sparked a chain reaction, and suddenly Keith's mind was reeling.

Lance hadn't said anything, even though the others were still shouting into the coms, even Coran. He looked over to where he'd last seen the red lion taking down a battle cruiser, but it was nowhere to be seen.

He... he would've liked to maybe hear Lance's stupid voice one more time, before he died. He would've liked to...

“Guys,” Keith said suddenly, feeling the need to say something to express at least some of what he felt. These guys were as good as family to him, after all. “Thank you, for always being there for me. All of you, I—”

“Oh, no you don't!” Lance's angry voice cut him off, and while Keith would normally be irritated by such a tone directed at him, now he couldn't find it in himself to feel anything but fond. “You are not dying like this!”

“Lance, I don't really think we have a choice. My lion won't move.”

There was a pause, and for a moment Keith could hear nothing save for the ion canon continuing to charge up. Then, “Mine will.”

It finally clicked in Keith's head, and he turned with horror to see the red lion barreling towards him, at full speed.

The red lion is the fastest, and most agile. It requires a skilled pilot who relies more on instincts than skill alone.

Lance maneuvered easily around the ships, ignoring the shots they took at him and heading straight for Keith.

Maybe the most reckless lion and the most reckless pilot really did go together well, after all.

None of the others would've made it in time, but that didn't matter.

Because what Lance was doing... this plan was suicidal. The red lion had the least amount of armor, and Keith would know. She may have been fast, but she took a lot of damage. Lance didn't seem to care about any harm befalling himself.

But... he'd said that Keith would be the one to make the grand hero gesture.

“No, no, Lance, you can't, you'll just get us both killed, for once in your life don't get in the way—”

“Sorry, Samurai,” Lance said, and god damn it, how could he sound so happy? “I can never resist getting in your way.”

The red lion slammed into him at the exact time the ion canon fired, and the momentum was enough to send Keith clear of the blast. He opened his eyes after his lion stilled again post-impact, and—

Lance hadn't been so lucky.

The light of the blast was like a million stars. It was too bright, too blinding.

Supernova.

“I want to die like a star.”

The words replayed in Keith's head, only to be drowned out by the screaming. So many voices, screaming. His own throat felt raw.

Lance was too, at first, the sound unlike anything Keith had ever heard from him before.

But when Lance's voice died with the light of the ion canon, leaving nothing but a silent, dark-eyed lion suspended broken in the emptiness, it was even worse.

“LANCE?!” Hunk was the first to call out, the one word already betraying his sheer panic. “LANCE!”

“You... he wouldn't... Lance can't be...” Pidge's voice shook before dying into nothing more than a whisper they could barely hear. “I can't lose any more of my family.”

Me neither.

He knew Pidge thought of Lance like a brother, and while he didn't know exactly what Lance was to him, he knew he couldn't lose it.

“Lance! Answer us! Say something!” That was Allura, trying to stay strong. Her voice broke on the last word anyway.

The coms gave them nothing but static.

“Lance,” Keith whispered. “Lance, please.”

Lance didn't respond. But Black did.

Perhaps the tractor beam was entirely out of range, or perhaps his apparent distress at Lance's current predicament was enough to make her open her mouth.

Whichever it was, Keith wasted no time in jet-packing over to Lance's lion, and Red immediately let him in. He knew she still cared for him.

Maybe that's why she let Lance put himself in so much danger, because it would've been Keith instead.

Another thing that made Red and Lance so annoyingly similar; they both threw caution to the wind to save Keith, on numerous occasions.

And Keith had... he'd missed both of them, while with the Blade. Terribly.

He could sense Red's sadness and regret as he explored their old bond. Almost like she was... mourning.

The thought did nothing to calm his nerves.

And when he got inside the lion...

Red. Much, much too much red.

Blood was everywhere.

Lance had been knocked to the floor, and was lying in a puddle of it. Keith couldn't figure out the source, but the sheer amount of it was enough to chill him to his core.

He was on his knees beside Lance in a second, and pulling him into his lap. The slight rise and fall of Lance's chest didn't give him any comfort, not with the strangled sound of his breathing.

The pulse Keith found on his wrist was too slow. Too soft.

He looked back to Lance's face, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks when he saw that the other was awake. Pained, glossy, ocean blue eyes met Keith's.

“L... Lance.” Keith's voice desperately clung onto the word.

“Hey, man,” Lance replied, and somehow found the courage to smile. “Why're you crying?”

“Why... Why am I— Lance, you're... you're...”

You're dying. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. That would make it real.

“I know, I know, but you don't have to be sad.” Lance coughed, and a small trail of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “This is just how I wanted to go, after all.”

Keith shook his head, grasping for something, anything. "You... you can't die here. You just pushed me out of the way, that's not... this isn't good enough. This is reckless, this is how you said I would die, remember? You need to get that big, supernova ending, right? Like a star? It's not supposed to be my fault, I—” he stopped, choked off by a sob. “It can't be my fault.”

“It's not your fault,” Lance said, voice firm despite the pain he was feeling. “And... thats not quite what I... what I meant. I mean, d-don't get me wrong, the... explosion was n-n-nice, b-but I meant... I meant... being cr-cradled in your a-arms.”

Keith didn't understand. “...What? No. You... you wanted to go out with something meaningful, right? That's not—”

“Of course I d-do,” Lance cut him off. "And this... it is. But before... before th-that, do you... do you r-remember what I said?”

Keith blinked, the tears spilling out of his eyes. “Of course I remember.” How could he forget? “You... you said that back on Earth, you wanted to die with your family, people you care about. People you—” And Keith stopped, eyes blown wide. “No.”

“People I love,” Lance finished for him, smiling shakily. “Y-Yeah.”

“No,” Keith said again, shaking his head. “No, no, no, you can't— Lance, you can't, I—”

“Give the Galra hell from me, okay, Keith?” Lance asked.

And he was dying. Dying in Keith's arms, even if he didn't want to admit it. “Okay,” he whispered.

“And you g-guys will... you'll remember me, r-right?”

Keith's grip on him tightened, ever so slightly. He could feel another lion tugging them towards the castle, but he knew they wouldn't make it in time. “Right. Of... of course we will. I won't let anyone in this entire universe forget.”

“You'll tell... m-my family? And th-the team, too... that I l-loved them?”

“Yes,” Keith told him, pressing their foreheads together. “I promise.” And then, because he'd wanted to for so long, because he never had and he never would again, Keith kissed him. Pressed their lips together, soft and sweet and much, much too short, and then drew away, face wet with both of their tears.

Lance sighed, a soft smile ghosting over his features. “Frente al amor y la muerte no sirve de nada ser fuerte. And Keith?”

“I'm here.”

“Thank y-you. For... everything.” Lance's eyes slipped shut. “Puedo ver a las estrellas.” All the breath left him. He didn't draw in another.

Keith buried his face in the crook of Lance's neck, and sobbed.

[17mounteens]

Longing (Seungkwan)

Request: 

hello, i'd like to request a seungkwan smut where he comes back home from tour to find y/n crying because she misses him and they somehow end up having some fluffy loving sex c: thanks in advance!!

Smut.

» He comes back from tour and finds you crying because you miss him so much. Fluffy, loving sex (or writer’s attempt at that) ensues.

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 3,583 words

With each day that Seungkwan had spent on tour with the rest of Seventeen, the longing feeling in your chest had continued growing.

You had both prepared well for the tour, spending as much time together before it began as you possibly could, discussing how there wouldn’t be too much contact during the months he was more or less out of the country, and your time apart had begun well, too.

Eventually, however, you realized you missed him more than any good morning texts or quick video calls could satisfy, and the pictures and videos you saw online did nothing to help. He was smiling so brightly and your heart was full with love when you thought about how happy he must’ve been feeling, seeing Carats in so many different countries while having fun with the members, but at the same time that same smile was so dear to you that you wished he was there next to you.

You missed his calming voice - which was why you enjoyed all the radio lives Seungkwan occasionally did with some other members - as well as you missed his arms around you, his little pout when he was too much in thought and in general just… him.

It was tougher than you had expected, and towards the end of the tour you had found yourself tearing up in the night more and more often, cuddling a pillow while either listening to a cover he had done or replaying some of the many video or audio messages he had sent you throughout the tour.

The one you listened to that particular night was a good night message he had recorded quietly a week or so earlier, his voice hushed and calm and overflowing with affection towards you. You could tell he was smiling a little.

”Good night, Y/N. The day here has been amazing, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot. It’s not a bad thing, of course, but I miss you a lot, so… yeah. I really can’t wait to be back. I’ll give you a hug worth all these months, yeah? Do you think you can handle that?”

He laughed softly, and you could hear him sigh, which made you smile even as your heart felt like it could break any second from how much you missed him.

”Anyway, Hansol’s about to sleep so I think I should go, too. I love you a lot, baby. Sleep well, and dream of me.”

The sound of a kiss that he then gave to the microphone was one of your favorites, you supposed, and you could easily imagine him kissing your temple or something.

Putting the audio message to play again, you finally let yourself start drifting off to sleep.

…

A few days after that, Seungkwan was climbing up the stairs of your apartment complex, his heart beating excitedly in his chest as he was unable to wipe the wide smile off his face.

He’d finally see you after the long months overseas, and he felt like the stairs would never end.

While walking down the hallway to your door, he fiddled with the gift box he was holding, containing some souvenirs and a few general presents he’d gotten for you. Upon reaching the door, he fished for his keys, where dangled a spare key to your apartment, and got it in the lock.

“Y/N?” Seungkwan called softly when the door was open and he could already step into your apartment. He quirked his eyebrow a little when he got no reply despite being fairly sure you’d be at home.

Soon he could distinguish some sounds coming from the direction of your bedroom, and while toeing his shoes off, he tried to identify it. As soon as he realized that it was the sound of you sniffling, his eyes widened a little, and he rushed to your room once he had put the gift box aside.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he had reached the door to your room, and joined you on your bed, where you were cuddled into a pillow.

“Seungkwan?” you asked in surprise, your heart immediately beating faster in your chest, and you wiped your eyes so that you could look at him properly.

And there he was, the love of your life, his hair a lighter shade of blond than it had been when you had last seen him, and his cheeks a bit less puffy than back then, too. He looked gorgeous, and you were glad to see that the love in his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere.

You didn’t say another word as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close, shushing you as you broke down into fresh tears while clinging onto him tightly, inhaling his familiar scent and just letting it slowly sink in that Seungkwan was back.

“I missed you so much,” you said quietly while holding his pale pink sweater in your fists, your body all relaxed with how soothing his hand was as it stroked your back slowly.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” Seungkwan said softly and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I got you a lot of souvenirs.”

“You didn’t have to,” you said with a small pout and lifted your face so that you could look into his eyes. Seungkwan grinned, his eyes curving a little.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he declared and stole a quick kiss from your lips before placing his chin on top of your head while holding you close. “You know I love giving presents to the people I love.”

“I do,” you mumbled and unwrapped your arm from around him and began drawing circles on his chest instead, smiling to yourself while sniffling; all the crying had gotten your nose fairly runny.

For a while you just lay there, enjoying each other’s closeness and talking about how you had been and how you had missed each other, but at some point you began getting more and more aware of how close he was, how nice his breathing sounded and how manly he felt, which eventually only made you think about how long it had been since the last time you had had sex.

And at the memory of what sex with him was like… you were a goner: it was fantastic.

Without even fully realizing what you were doing, you cleared your throat. Seungkwan hummed in curiosity. “I-- I also missed your touch.”

Seungkwan was silent and your cheeks felt like they were burning, and you were praying he’d catch on what you meant, or at the very least feel similarly.

He blinked in surprise, and while you couldn’t see it with how dark your room was, his cheeks gained a rosy color as he tightened his hold around you a little, his voice a bit lower than earlier when he spoke. “Me, too.”

You hardly had enough time to get excited when he pressed his lips to yours and began leaning over you a little, his knee soon between your legs and one of his hands moving up on your waist as you began making out passionately. It had been a long time since the last time you had been able to do what you loved, so you didn’t waste much time in getting your hands in seungkwan’s hair, although the coarseness of it made you pout a little.

“Has it been bleached again?” you asked in the middle of the kisses, and Seungkwan snorted at the sudden question, turning on your bedside lamp quickly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod and breathed deeply while looking into your eyes, licking his lips slowly. “I thought about you a lot on the tour.”

Melting into a smile, you slowly moved your hands to Seungkwan’s shoulders as he began kissing his way down your neck. “You did?”

He hummed in reply and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt dress you were wearing, his lips moving lower on your body with each kiss. Butterflies were flying in your stomach at the same time as blood was starting to rush between your legs, only making the need inside of you stronger.

“The hotel nights were lonely,” Seungkwan mumbled, and you could nearly hear the pout on his face. “So when I had the time and privacy, I’d think about you and…”

“Masturbate?” you continued his sentence when his voice trailed off, and he lifted his face, grinning at you.

“Yeah. And the occasional photos you’ve sent me in the past helped, too,” Seungkwan chuckled and gave you a kiss on the lips when you made a face, before moving back down to your chest level. “Come on, they’re gorgeous.”

“Still,” you giggled, but let out a content sigh when he kissed the top of your left breast while squeezing the other one lightly through your bralette. Tightening your hold of his shoulders, you licked your lips. “...But photos have helped me, too.”

Seungkwan blinked. “My photos?”

“Whose, if not yours?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile on your lips that only grew wider at the sight of your boyfriend, slightly flustered and surprised.

“I don’t know, I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at some of those actors, so I thought--”

“Please,” you shook your head and sat up so that you could cup Seungkwan’s cheeks, as he sat up on his knees, too. “No one turns me on the way you do.”

For a moment there was a warm smile on Seungkwan’s face that slowly turned into a grin as he gave you a playful, sweet kiss. Upon pulling back, he began laying you down again and got half on top of you, caressing your cheek. “I could say the same.”

Smiling, you got your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long, heated kiss that was followed by numerous other ones and during which his hands moved on your body more daringly, and eventually you got your hands under his shirt, too. He had lost some weight during the tour, but you didn’t mind it, and were glad to notice that at the end of the day he still had a layer of softness on him - just the right amount.

Besides, all that mattered was that his smile and kisses were still the same.

Not much later, you were a panting mess, desperate to get out of the legging shorts you were wearing, and Seungkwan was equally eager to get out of his clothes. Having taken the shorts off, you helped his shirt over his head as well as his jeans and boxers, taking your time dragging the denim down his thighs and revealing the tent in his underwear.

“It’s been a while,” he said almost defensively, hissing when you placed your hand on his hard-on, rubbing it gently through his boxers.

“I love seeing you turned on,” you said quietly and moved a bit on the bed, getting your panties off with one hand before swinging a leg over Seungkwan’s thigh and getting a comfortable position before sliding your hand into his boxers from the waistband. Grinning, you began bringing your lips closer to his. “So hard…”

“God, your hand feels so good,” he sighed and let his eyes fall shut as you stroked him, spreading his pre-cum around the head of his cock, which alone had him moaning. That, in turn, had your hips bucking lightly against his thigh that was more or less between your legs, and Seungkwan raised his eyebrows at that before smirking a little. “Let me help you a little.”

With that, he moved his hand, which he had been caressing your bare back with, low enough to be able to reach between your legs. Whimpering at the closeness, you moved a bit higher so that it would be easier for him, and let out a quiet moan when you felt two of his fingers starting to rub you up and down your slit, swimming around in your wetness.

“You’re so wet,” Seungkwan stated the obvious and swallowed hard, only able to think about how amazing your pussy would feel around his cock, which in turn had his hips bucking up into your hand.

“Finger me,” you pleaded desperately, almost blinded by your desire, and picked up the pace at which you were stroking him to egg him on. Seungkwan, as obedient as ever, soon got a finger inside of your soaked entrance and began pumping it in and out. Moaning, you let your lips press against his neck. “More…”

Adding another finger, Seungkwan then used his other hand to lift your face so that he could kiss you, his tongue easily entering your mouth as you pleasured each other, both of you moaning quietly into the kiss every now and then, your actions getting hastier and more desperate by the minute.

Your breathing was getting shallow and you were getting increasingly aware of the way your hard nipples were rubbing against Seungkwan’s body, the other one more hard and the other one a bit more lightly, and when you could hear him mumble your name while starting to tease your entrance with a third finger, you broke away from the kiss and stopped moving your hand on his cock.

He looked at you, dazed and with his face flushed, his fingers stopping inside of you but remaining inside. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed and nodded eagerly, slowly moving your eyes from Seungkwan’s plump, soft lips to his eyes, dark and hooded and so sexy. “Just… I need you. Now.”

Breathing deeply, he nodded and slowly retreated his fingers. “I need you, too.”

You bit down on your lower lip and let go of his length before reaching for the second drawer of your nightstand, where you kept the condoms and tissues and anything else small you might need when things got heated. Taking one condom, you then returned to Seungkwan, who you could see was eagerly sucking his fingers clean, which made you clench around nothing.

“I guess you don’t need a tissue,” you noted with a grin, and got a shake of his head as an answer.

“No, I much rather enjoy it myself,” he smirked a little and placed his hand down when his fingers were clean, after which he patted the mattress next to him. “Come on, baby.”

Not wasting any time, you moved to him and gave him the condom while swinging one of your legs across his so that you were astride on his lap, your wet pussy right between his thighs and his hard cock in front of you.

“I’ve missed this so much,” you breathed in awe as you looked at Seungkwan in all his glory; a sight you had missed to no end while he had been gone. All the little curves of his body, the occasional small moles, the trail of hair that led from his belly button to his length… And the way he was eyeing you like he knew just how good he looked and how much you were eating him with your eyes.

“Me, too,” he said with a smirk and began opening the foil wrapping of the condom, grunting quietly when you bent down to press kisses along his chest and stomach, moving lower as teasingly as you could. “Especially this.”

You smiled against his skin and moved all the way down to his crotch, at which point you took him into your hand and gave him a few slow strokes while kissing his shaft, opening your eyes so that you could see his face, flushed and his lips parted in pleasure. A grin spread to your lips. “Is the condom out?”

He could only nod, and winced in disappointment when you sat up again and let go of his cock, but all of that was gone as soon as you took the condom from him and put it on him carefully, and were quick to move higher on his body, all the way until you could align him with your entrance.

“Yes,” Seungkwan sighed, his hands tight on your hips, just as you began sinking down on him, letting him fill all of you.

“Shit,” you hissed, incredibly turned on, and let your eyes fall shut at how amazing it felt to be filled by him after such a long time.

Somehow some more sentimental feelings were awakened too, however, and you found yourself leaning down to kiss Seugkwan’s neck and caressing his body.

“I want it slow,” you mumbled against his skin, sighing contently as you moved your hips slowly. “I want to feel all of you. I want to feel you’re there.”

Seungkwan smiled softly and caressed your hips, lower back and ass slowly. “That sounds perfect.”

Feeling your heart be filled with an overflowing sense of love, you moved your lips to Seungkwan’s, kissing him passionately just as you began moving on him, knowing just how to keep it all slow and sensual and so, so good.

Seungkwan helped you move, his hands surprisingly strong on your hips, and you loved how desperate his kisses were, his tongue eagerly dancing with yours as his lips moved on yours. You had a hard time staying quiet, the sensuality of the moment driving you further into lust, and you could hear just how wet you were, as if it didn’t feel painfully obvious already.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been this wet,” Seungkwan said with a chuckle when you broke away from the kiss to muffle your whimpers into his neck.

You giggled to yourself, moaning as you moved your hips back down on him again. “Give me a break, it’s been too long since the last time we were like this.”

“Oh, but that last time was fantastic,” he hummed and helped you pick up your speed a little, sensing your need for more. Licking his plump lips, he began thinking about the previous time. “You had that gorgeous lingerie because you wanted to surprise me before the tour, and I had a new toy for you-- or us, really-- and by the third round we were both so sated…”

Moaning at the memory, you started sitting up and moving your hips back and forth on Seungkwan’s lap, taking in how good every movement felt. “That time kept me going for a good two weeks.”

He grinned up at you, but his face contorted a little in pleasure whenever you moved from a particularly nice angle. “Two and a half - I beat you.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you began riding him properly, your moans high in pitch as you did. He watched you in awe, taking in how your breasts bounced and face contorted and, unable not to, how well your pussy was taking him, which had always been a turn-on for him.

“How did I ever last six months without this,” he mumbled, dumbfounded, and let his hands momentarily move up your body so that he could hold your breasts as you moved, as well as rub your nipples a little. You chuckled at his words, holding back a few moans at the way he was touching your breasts, but were wondering the exact same thing.

Soon your moans started getting louder and harder to stifle, and as both of you neared your climaxes, you bent down again, getting your lips close to his ear. “Help me come.”

Seungkwan swallowed and rolled the two of you over, and you were quick to wrap your legs and arms around him, clinging onto him as he began pounding you into oblivion, putting all those months of only imagining you to good use. You whimpered, your face hidden in his neck, and mirrored the movements of his hips as well as you could.

With him starting to whisper you sweet things about how much he had missed you and how amazing you felt and how much he loved you, you were soon thrown over the edge, accompanied by a quiet cry of his name.

He still thrust into you a few times before releasing into the condom, undeniably affected by the way your pussy was hugging him in a steady rhythm.

Slowly, you untangled yourself from him and he pulled out of you, getting the condom off before taking a fairly comfortable position next to you on the bed. You curled up to him, both of you breathing heavily, and felt him stroke your back soothingly.

“That’s what I’d call worth the wait,” he said with a snort, and you laughed quietly, too, and looked up at him adoringly.

“In many ways,” you added, bringing one of your hands to his cheek so that you could caress it. “I really love you. I’m glad you’re back.”

“I love you, too,” Seungkwan said, his voice even softer than normal, and you leaned up to kiss him sweetly, feeling him reply just as softly and lovingly.

You were infinitely glad to have him back next to you, and hardly left his side for the time he spent at your place.

Being cuddled up to him with his arm around you as he told you about the tour with a soft voice was all you needed, just like being able to cuddle up to him before sleeping.

And the next morning he did what he had promised and gave you a hug so long that you nearly pulled away from it, but embraced it nevertheless.

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