#pls lend me your ideas

[camembertlythere]

Working on little outfit no. 2 (babica mode)

What other lewks should I put her in?

[gullivertravelstowonderland]

Y'know what? I wanna see more disability representation in g/t, but I espescially wanna see g/t disability aid services!

Tinies volunteering to do small tasks for humans with fine motor difficulties!

Minigiants acting as mobility aids!

Seeing-eye tinies and giant sign interpreters!

A human accidentally starting an assisted living service for tinies after helping a few struggling borrowers!

EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SIZESHIFTERS!

SIZESHIFTERS WITH SUPPORT HUMANS!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

[healmydesires]

cross that line ꕤ (l.h)

part two

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!

a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I��ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.

Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.

You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.

Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.

It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.

Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.

Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.

You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.

You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.

As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.

You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.

Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.

That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.

You could say that opposites attract.

Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.

It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.

As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.

You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.

Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.

As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”

He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.

“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.

Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.

You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.

It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.

You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.

The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.

One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.

You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.

“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”

Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.

He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.

“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”

You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.

“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”

You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”

You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.

It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.

For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.

Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”

A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.

“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”

You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.

Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.

Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”

“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.

But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.

“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.

He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.

For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.

Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.

“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.

“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.

“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.

You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.

He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.

Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.

“Lo—”

Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.

He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.

You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.

As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”

Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”

You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.

“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.

Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.

“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.

“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.

You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.

“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.

When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.

Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.

You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.

Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.

You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.

You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.

He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.

“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.

At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.

Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.

“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.

“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.

“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.

As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.

“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.

In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”

As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.

You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him. 

But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.

“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.

You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.

“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”

Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.

“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.

Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”

“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.

He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.

“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”

“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”

Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”

His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.

“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”

“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”

Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.

As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.

Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”

You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly. 

“Really?” He’d smile down at you. 

“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.

You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.

“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.

“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.

“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours. 

There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.

How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.

“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.

Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.

You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.

One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.

You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.

You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.

You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.

Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.

He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.

You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.

Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.

Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.

You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.

Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.

“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”

You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties. 

“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin. 

You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”

Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.

His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”

“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.

The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.

As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently. 

You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment. 

He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.

You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.

He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.

His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”

Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.

“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.

“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties. 

As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.

He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.

Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.

Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”

A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.

Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.

His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.

You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.

You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”

You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.

The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble. 

Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.

You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel. 

Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.

“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.

Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.

Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress. 

Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.

You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.

Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.

“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”

He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”

You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.” 

“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers. 

“That’s my girl.”

Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.

As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.

“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips. 

“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”

The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.

“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit. 

Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.

Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.

“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”

“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.

“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. 

Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.

“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.

He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.

“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.

You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”

“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”

“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.

“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.

“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.

“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”

Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”

“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”

Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.

“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.

Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.

“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss. 

The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together. 

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other. 

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.

You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.

“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move. 

Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.

“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.

“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps. 

At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.

You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.

Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“So full…” you whined.

“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.

You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.

He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock. 

His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more. 

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.

“Need more.” You whispered.

“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.

“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. 

The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.

Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.

“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.

“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.

Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy. 

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.

“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.

“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.

“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”

“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”

You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”

He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.

And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.

“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop. 

His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.

It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.

“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth. 

You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 

“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.

“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.

“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.

Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.

Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.

He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted. 

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.

thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷

[revasserium]

burn

umemiya hajime; 3,307 words; mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, young/freshman!umemiya, pre-canon events, lapslock, no "y/n", librarian!reader, childhood friends to lovers, vague ref to ch. 152, ume is a dumbdumb

summary: "it's a pleasure to burn" - ray bradbury, fahrenheit 451

a/n: am i writing umemiya now? who knows. this takes place 2 years before wbk manga events (the first year ume&co are in boufuurin) so pls excuse the slightly ooc ume...

001. the art of war

the library is entirely your idea.

“mah… you’d have to be the one to keep track of all the books though,” umemiya says, grinning as he watches you stock the shelves, your hair twisted up into a messy bun, your arm straining to reach the top-most shelf with a bundle of paperbacks with fraying covers and broken-in spines.

“of course i would! it’s not like there’s anyone else here i’d trust with that.” you turn to fix him with a stare that is already too “librarian-like” and he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

“okay then, consider me your first patron! gimme something to read,” umemiya says, smiling wide as you narrow your eyes. your lips twitch up at the ends — it’s a familiar movement, an unconscious gesture, but one that’s plagued his all sleepless nights and most of his endless days.

“well…” you say, drawing out the word as you slowly saunter towards him, propping your hands on your hips as you pull level with the table in front of him, “what do you want to read?”

“anything you’d wanna lend me,” he says easily.

“boo, that’s such a boring answer,” you shoot back, shifting to press your hip against the edge of the table, crossing your arms as you turn to look back at the half-erected shelves.

you don’t see the way umemiya’s eyes flicker down to the bend of your waist, or the way he licks his lips as he tracks the plush of your thigh as you move to hoist yourself onto the desk, balancing on the edge.

he swallows, clearing his throat, trying not to think about the strange, burgeoning signs of growing up pestering you both at this vital juncture (just last week, his voice had cracked so hard you’d laughed at him for a whole hour straight; and the week before that, he’d almost rammed into a telephone poll watching you jog down the flight of stairs that leads to your tiny apartment).

“then maybe reading a few books will make me not so boring, hm?”

you roll your eyes, hopping off the table to comb through the handful of books. umemiya lets out an internal sigh of relief, feeling the heat in his cheeks recede ever so slightly as you disappear behind one of the taller shelves.

“here. let’s start with this.”

you pop out from behind the shelf, lobbing a thin volume towards him; he catches it out of reflex and stares at the cover.

“the art of war…?”

you grin, all cheek and no shame, “yeah. i mean… fits, doesn’t it? aren’t you starting at boufuurin next week?” you blink before turning back to look around at the small, abandoned storage facility, tucked between a ramen shop and what used to be a dollar store. there’s half a dozen dusty shelves, a few cabinets along the walls, and even a small stepladder that touma had dug out of the back closet for you.

at fifteen, you’re probably the smartest person he knows (and the prettiest, but that’s neither here nor there); at fifteen, umemiya hajime is an iron-wrought confluence of teenage ambition with big ideas and even bigger dreams (who doesn’t have time for things like crushes or girls… really).

“yeah,” umemiya runs a finger along the cover of the little book and flips to a random page, his eyes catching on the line —

the greatest victory is that which requires no battle at all.

002. pedro reyes

three weeks later, he stumbles back with two black eyes and a matching pair of bleeding knuckles.

“that book you lent me?” he says, dropping into a chair with a groan, “kinda bullshit.”

you make a half-startled, half-annoyed noise as you hurry over, setting down an armful of magazines to lean over and look at his face.

“what the hell happened?”

umemiya winces as you reach out to wipe a trickle of blood from his cheek.

“couple of fights — tough ones, but… well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says, managing a lopsided grin even as you tut, hurrying away to grab a first aid kit, returning with a warm, wet cloth and a scowl on your face.

“i thought you had a plan,” you say, unable to keep the acid from your voice.

umemiya groans as you press the damp cloth to his bloodied fingers, watching as you wipe each one down, the shocking white of the towel slowly darkening until it’s stained and blotchy with red.

“yeah. i did — punch everyone out till i get to the top.”

you tsk, frown deepening even as he shifts forward to let you wipe at the wounds on his face.

“pretty sure that’s not what sun tzu suggests,” you say, dabbing some kind of cooling gel to a cut right below his eye.

“sun tzu’s never had to deal with the guys at boufuurin.”

you roll your eyes, sighing before pulling back, “there’s an article i read today —” you jerk your head back towards the stack of magazines, “about an artist in mexico.”

“yeah?”

umemiya closes his eyes and lets you do the slow, diligent work of bandaging up his knuckles, one by one.

“he took a bunch of illegal weapons the government had confiscated and melted them down — pistols, knives, shotguns — and made them into musical instruments instead.”

the quiet that follows is thick and steady as churned butter. you don’t look up, your eyes still trained on the careful task of bandaging umemiya’s fingers.

he shifts, pulling closer, his breath fanning out warm against your cheek.

“do you know how hot a fire has to be in order to melt metal?” you ask after another brief silence, finally lifting your eyes as you finish with his hands.

umemiya cocks an eyebrow, “how hot?”

“about 2,700 degrees, fahrenheit.”

umemiya whistles below his breath, “sounds hot.”

“it is. at that temperature, you can apparently force a weapon to forget that it’s a weapon, to remake it into something new — something that wasn’t made to take lives… but to give it instead.”

you wrap your fingers around his, your skin contrasted against the dark blossom of bruises.

umemiya feels his smile slash into something jagged, lopsided and sharp.

“then… i guess that’s how hot i’ll have to burn to turn this whole place around.”

003. grey’s anatomy

looking back, umemiya wonders if that’s the night he changed — the night that you’d held onto his hands as if they were something precious.

he looks up the melting point of metal and the story of the artist in mexico. he thinks about what it must feel like to turn a pistol into a flute, to be the one to teach it to hold a note instead of a bullet —

he stares down at his bandaged hands, feels the dull ache in his muscles and wonders.

once, he remembers when the pair of you were still kids, hollow and lonely and full of a childish rage at the indifferent world — how you’d laughed as he pushed you on a neighborhood swing, but cried when he knocked a guy’s front teeth our for asking where your parents were.

and a week later, he’d found you hidden under the jungle gym with a tomb of a book clutched in your hands. the air had been damp with thunder, the sky grey and electric.

you’d looked up at him with bright eyes, holding out a closed fist —

“ume! did you know that the human heart is the same size as a fist?”

he remembers crawling under the jungle gym to squeeze in beside you, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, peering at the opened book, at the page with a diagram of the human body an all it’s labeled parts.

“oh, cool.”

he’d held up his own fist then, and stared, feeling the beat of his heart reverberating through his chest. he wonders if you can hear it when you’re pressed this close; he wonders, if the sky weren’t breaking apart above you, if he’d be able to hear your heartbeats too.

“isn’t it strange?” you’d asked, leaning over to bump your fist against his.

“what’s strange?” he hadn’t pulled away; neither had you.

your hand relaxes then, fingers loosening till he can see the blood rush back into their tips, tinting them pink. you’d turned your hand and placed it over his still-closed one and squeezed.

“that… a heart and a fist are the same size but… they weren’t made to beat the same.”

004. romeo & juliet

“he loves you, y’know.”

you look up from the makeshift front desk.

tsubaki is sitting with their legs crossed on one of the tables, arms propped on either side of their hips.

“library’s not open for another few days,” you say by way of an answer.

“it’s nice,” tsubaki says, looking around, “you did a good job with it.”

“thanks.”

they hop off the table to peer down one of the aisles of books — all the shelves now labeled with your loopy handwriting, the books clustered by a loose combination of genre, authorship, and spine-coloration.

“it’ll be good for us,” tsubaki’s voice is slightly muted by the layers and layers of books, but the click of their heeled boots rings sharp against the smooth linoleum floors, “having a library — the pen being mightier than the sword, and all.”

they’re smiling when they finally come back around the last row, fingers linked behind their back.

“that’s the hope, anyway,” you say, lips pulling into a wane smile.

you glance up and your eyes catch on the bandage at the edge of tsubaki’s lips, the dark stain at the collar of their otherwise impeccable uniform.

sighing, you run a hand along a yet-unsorted stack of books, shaking your head.

“we’re too young to know anything about love,” you answer, finally.

tsubaki joins you, bending down to pick up the first book at the top of the pile, waving it in the air with a rueful grin.

“i think romeo & juliet would beg to differ.”

you bite your lips, “you know that’s a tragedy, right?”

tsubaki shrugs, “sure, but… wasn’t it beautiful while it lasted anyway?”

you don’t have an answer, and instead, tsubaki giggles, tapping the top of your head with the book.

“can i borrow this? i promise i’ll return it!”

you wave them away with a soft smile.

“that’s kind of how a library works.”

005. fight club

“how long have you been here?”

you jerk up, your entire body screaming with the movement after having been still for so long.

“ume —! you’re awake!” you nearly collapse by the hospital bedside, dropping your head into the pristine white sheets.

above you, umemiya makes a choked off sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, his hand coming up to pat your head. you melt into the feel of him, the weight and warmth of his fingers as he treads them through your hair.

“where’s —”

“they left — all of them,” you say, lifting your head slowly, “takishii and endo and… all of them.”

umemiya frowns, his hand stilling for a second, “what do you mean?”

you shrug, pulling back till you’re curled up in the bedside seat once more, tugging your knees up into your chest.

“after the fight, they just… picked up and left.”

“so… i lost,” umemiya’s voice is soft.

you shake your head, “no.”

he frowns, “but that’s —”

“you knocked each other out at the same time — it was technically —” your voice snags in your throat as you remember the grizzly scene before you, the crimson sprays of blood, the dirt damp beneath them, their uniforms torn into dark ribbons, the rooftop howling with a savage, winter wind.

“a tie,” umemiya says in a flatlined voice, reaching up and covering his eyes with his arm.

“right.”

you clear your throat, reaching for the tall glass of water on the bedside table.

“here — drink,” you hold the water out to him. he takes it wordlessly and drains nearly the entire glass. you watch, silent, as a drop of liquid trails down his jaw and trickles into the bandages at this throat.

your eyes cut away as he grins, smacking his lips and setting the water glass down.

“ah — that feels much better!”

you’re quiet, sitting vulturine still, refusing to meet his gaze.

umemiya finally slumps back to stare at the ceiling.

“you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not.”

“we’e known each other our whole lives, i know when you’re mad —”

“i’m scared, okay?” there’s a thin, unsteady quiver to the tenor of your voice as your head snaps back up. it’s then that he notices your fingers curled into fists at your sides.

“s-scared? of what? takiishi and endo are gone — you said so your—”

“of you!”

umemiya blinks and feels the blood in his extremities going cold, and for a second, he’s not sure if he accidentally dislodged his iv drip.

the look on your face is inscrutable, anger and uncertainty, but most of all — fear. something about that look makes his stomach curdle inside him.

“i —” he tries to find something to say but nothing else comes out. there’s no excuse, no explanation. he searches you eyes for a tether, for a spark of that familiar warmth and finds none.

slowly, you soften back into the seat and turn to stare out the window.

“it’s not like i’ve never seen you fight… and i’ve never liked it but this…” you bite down on your bottom lip, “it was like… you turned into someone else. someone i didn’t recognize.”

“i’m… i’m sorry.”

you swallow, still not looking at him, your eyes flickering down to your own hands, now lying limply in your lap.

“and then i thought — what if i did this? i — i had to go and make that stupid metaphor about the metal and the melting and —”

at this, umemiya laughs, reaching out to tug you closer. the ease with which he does so startles a hiccup out of you.

“you don’t really think i went and fought like that because of an article about a dude in mexico, do you?”

you purse your lips, cheeks going blotchy with heat. umemiya reaches forward to squeeze your nose, making you jerk back.

“dummy,” he chides, grinning now from ear to ear, but his smile falters slightly as he takes your hands in his, “i’m sorry that i scared you. promise i won’t do it again.”

“hn.” you don’t make to pull away, and umemiya takes that as permission to tug you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you. he buries his face in your hair and breathes in, out, in —

“hm… you really think you have that much power over me?” umemiya asks, a wanton sort of amusement underlying his voice as he finally lets you go, if only to revel in the way your cheeks flood with color.

“shut up! i was — i was freaked out and you were unconscious and i —”

“cause you do.”

your words cut off as abruptly as a dropped call.

umemiya chuckles, scratching at the back of his head, ruffling up his already pillow-mussed hair.

“been meaning to tell you but… i figured you already knew — “ and for once, he sounds his age — young and halting and shy.

after a breath that feels like a century, you finally break into a helpless fit of laughter.

“i can’t believe it…” you say, burying your face in your hands.

“can’t… believe what?” umemiya blinks at you.

“that it took you nearly dying for you to admit that you liked me.”

“hey! in case you haven’t noticed, i’ve been kinda busy this year!”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, yeah — had to go save the world first. then you get to kiss the girl, right? end movie, roll credits.”

umemiya cocks his head, “well, i dunno about the world but definitely — wait, what did you say about kissing me?”

you crinkle your nose, “i didn’t.”

“yeah you did.”

“i did not — i was just making a general statement about cliches in superhero movies —”

“oh, so you think i’m a superhero?”

“ume! stop it — mph!”

later, umemiya would recall fondly to anyone who will listen that yeah, he does get to kiss the girl after all.

006. fahrenheit 451

“451,” you say, standing at the door of the newly minted makochi library.

it’s dark outside, and umemiya stands by your side, stretching his arms over his head with a wide yawn.

“huh?”

“451 degrees,” you say again, turning to press a small silver lighter into his hands. he stares owlishly at it before looking back at you, clearly at a loss.

“that’s how hot it has to be for paper to catch fire.”

umemiya stares.

“i was thinking,” you say, turning back to the dark, but pristine library.

“uh-oh — oof — ow!” umemiya makes a show of clutching his side as you jerk your elbow back for another blow. he dodges out of your way with a dopey grin.

you sigh, turning back to the library, “but i was thinking that… there’s gotta be a better way — an easier way, right?”

this time, he stays quiet to let you speak.

“because yeah, it’d be nice to melt all the weapons in the world and turn them all into nicer things but… there’s a better way to do things.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” umemiya turns the lighter around and around in his palm.

you turn and head for the door, locking it behind you. the moonlight washes your skin in a ghostly silver as you turn to face him.

“we rewrite the story,” you say.

umemiya flicks on the lighter and lets the fire dance between them. his breath catches on the liquid gold in your eyes.

“is… that even possible?” he asks.

you reach out a steady hand, letting the tips of your fingers barely skim over the shifting flame.

“sure it is. all of human history is just a story written by the victors. and… 451 degrees isn’t nearly as hot as 2,700.”

umemiya smiles then, letting the lid of the lighter click shut. the fire snuffs out, leaving only a thin trail of spiraling smoke behind.

“sounds a lot more reasonable, too. much less scary,” he says.

you laugh, turning towards the main street. he watches you go for a second before pocketing the lighter and making to catch up. when he levels himself with you, he reaches out to take your hand.

“fires don’t have to be scary,” you say, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “for most of human history… it’s brought people together — over a hot meal or a good story. a lot of the time… it’s the only reason we get to survive.”

umemiya pulls you in to loop his arm around your shoulder.

“hm. i like the sound of that way, way better.”

bonus:

“so… just makin’ sure — you don’t want me to burn down the new library you spent all this time setting up, right?”

“no you dumbass! it was just a metaphor.”

“oh. right — yeah, a metaphor, duh.”

[yesimwriting]

Match Burns

A/n saltburn rewired a part of my brain

also my original idea was way too long for a one-shot so now i'm splitting it into 2 (maybe 3?) parts, if you'd be interested in that pls lmk lol

Summary: Despite your charm and kind disposition, Oliver has never been able to let himself be fond of you. Not with the way that Felix gravitates to you and your obliviousness to the attention. When you're invited to join him and Felix at Saltburn, his wariness of you morphs into an oddly suffocating dislike, until he realizes how to turn you into a way to get 'in' with Felix.

Pairing(s): eventual felix x reader x oliver, current oliver x felix (unreciprocated) and felix x reader (unreciprocated)

Warnings: potential typos (i'm tired yall), first time writing characters so potentially ooc?, canon-level toxic thoughts/plotting, some canon deviation (felix is alive and well to me and it's staying that way), oliver lowkey hating reader,, but kind of in the grown up version of a kid pulling another kid's pigtails when they have a crush lmao

----

The qualities that make the others adore you, that leave them with no choice but to treat you as some kind of dorm hall trapped princess, are the parts of you that make it difficult for Oliver to tolerate you.

You may not be the heir of some great fortune, the kind of commodity that can only be created through generations of pristine breeding and a lifetime of wealth that comes attached to that kind of pedigree. But you do have something.

His peers may see your self sacrificing nature in the ear you're always willing to lend or the time you're willing to give away without a second thought as instinctual kindness. But Oliver knows how to look beyond careful facades, the stained glass people use to warp the way they're perceived. He knows that your too sweet smiles and soft eyes are just your forms of social currency.

And the most off putting part of it all? The only person that can get away with pretending to not notice the way people react to you, is you.

Sometimes, when his thoughts drift to you without his permission, Oliver convinces himself that it's impossible for anyone to not see your softheartedness as the compensation that it is. And then someone--Felix, says something that is so transparently devoted, Oliver knows that it's worked. Give people what they want, and eventually you'll ensnare them.

Oliver let himself believe that he was finally reaching the peak of Felix's favor after being invited to spend the summer at his family's estate. Then, two days into his stay, Felix informed him that you'd be joining them at the end of the week.

The thought of you and your sense of humor that always seems to toe the line between witty and sarcastic; and the warm feel of your hand on his, or anyone's, arm, because when you listen you do so with your entire body; and your bright eyes that seem to see through everything but yourself, at Saltburn seemed to take something from this away from him. You didn't even need a sob story or to flash an indicator of something in desperate need of repair to get invited.

You were just you, and that was enough.

The way Felix told him only strengthened his chargin. She's friends with you, isn't she? I've seen you two together at the library.

The two of you. Not something that Oliver chose. You appeared one day at his side, on a too warm day for late November in Oxford. A too crowded library had the universe dropping you onto his lap. He accepted your presence because of the way the world seemed to light up for those around you.

But now there are no crowds of admirers to divide the attention. There is only Felix and his family, and with just two guests being invited to spend the summer, it'd be easy for the ultra wealthy to turn this into a competition for favorite pet.

It's also more than that. Alone here, it was easy to pretend Felix's attachment to you didn't exist. But now--now he could easily be the second favorite out of a set of two.

----

There was only one part of your arrival that Oliver was looking forward to, and you stole it from him.

He wanted to witness a crack, a wavering in your assuredness. The size of the estate would get to you, would make you--for once--seem small. You'd hesitate, maybe even see Felix in a different way that'd have you rethinking your friendship.

Your eyes had widened, a combination of shock and awe meshing together behind your gaze. Oliver could feel it, the moment that you'd reveal yourself as susceptible to shrinking in on yourself...and then your eyes met his, and the look vanished before it could fully take root.

You grinned at him and then at Felix, abandoning your luggage next to the car that picked you up before approaching them with unashamed enthusiasm. You pulled each of them into a quick hug, your warmth an ache against him. You didn't attempt to suppress your joy until Duncan appeared, standoffish as ever as Felix introduced you. That was just enough satisfaction to make Oliver want it more.

He's still thinking about it now, imagining just what it'd take to leave you vulnerable. You don't sense the resentful nature of his thoughts. You never do. Not even when Felix tells you that you'll be staying in the room connected to his through a shared bathroom.

Felix suggests giving you some time to rest before dinner. You accept the offer, tired from the back forth traveling from the UK to the US. Your visit to your mother had been so brief, you accepted Felix's offer so quickly. Maybe there's more tension in your family than you've admitted.

"She likes you a lot." Felix's low tone snaps Oliver out of his thoughts. It's a strangely nervous statement that doesn't make sense. You're friends with both of them, and if Felix means the statement in the romantic sense, he's wrong. Oliver's in the habit of taking note of the way people see him, and he can't remember instance in which you've ever looked at him like that.

He could see you feeling that way about Felix easily. You're around Felix often and while there is an underlying hint of stiffness when you're around him, it isn't a sign of dislike. You're determined to like him less, you're dedicated to not loving him. An amicable, but ultimately pointless goal. Who doesn't end up loving Felix?

Oliver doesn't know where this conversation is going, so he decides to keep his response simple. "She likes you, too."

"N--" Felix starts to deny the point, but realizes a full dismissal wouldn't be true. You do like him, it's just--it's different. "She trusts you." Felix shakes his head once, still uncertain. "I know we're friends, but sometimes, especially when we're alone, it-it feels like she sees me as a match that's starting burn too close to her fingers."

There it is. Oliver can't blame you for your precautions. Felix has turned the heads so many women--and some men--and he allows them to hang around him openly. His desirability, his options have never been secret. And your only overlap into his world is going to the same college. Oliver's even heard of you deciding to spend the night alone instead of with Felix because you don't always feel safe at those kinds of parties.

You're playing it safe, like a very good girl from suburbia, USA. It's your way of surviving, but Oliver can't quite respect the choice. You're smart enough to realize that loving Felix is like playing with matches, but you're not strong enough to realize that the proximity would be worth a few burns.

"I know we're a little different, but I don't want her to think I'd ever make her do anything." The obliviousness in Felix thinking that this is just about social circles is endearing in an odd way. "How'd you two get so close, anyway?"

Oliver isn't sure so close is the right way to phrase things. Sure, you're attentive and a little touchy, but that's just how people like you move through the world. Besides, if anything, Oliver thinks you choose his company so often because he's never given you the kind of desperate attention everyone else gives you.

Oliver forces a smile, pushing against the thought of being the one to bridge the gap between the two of you. It twists at his stomach. "What? Are you asking me for girl advice?"

Felix cracks a grin, playfully nudging Oliver with his shoulder. "You know how I meant it."

The words are light, but still another attempt at getting a concrete answer. There's an edge there that Oliver's familiar with, an implication of a feeling he's gotten used to. That chest tightening, what's so special about them? And now the Felix Catton is viewing him in that light.

Personal emotions aside, this--you--could be more useful than Oliver thought.

[purinfelix]

could you please write something where trent pining for his bestfriend for a long time before he finally confesses to her that he has feelings?? thank you! i love your writing sm <3

something stupid ₊˚⊹

pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x reader summary: Trent’s never been the best at concealing his jealousy, especially not when it comes to you - even if the two of you are ‘just friends’ warnings: none w/c: 1k

a/n: had to combine these two because they gave me the best idea everrr ... anyways i missed writing for trent like i realised i don't acc write for him that much - soo pls send more trent reqss!! <33

♬ and then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you" ♬

Trent couldn’t decide what feeling was worse - the intense, almost burning jealousy ripping through him as he watched you from across the bar, or the even more intense guilt consuming him for even daring to feel that way. To feel such an all-consuming possessiveness over someone who wasn’t even his, and to be left with no option other than to loiter in the corner like some idiot, his grip on his drink growing tighter by the second.

You wouldn’t blame him, surely, you couldn’t. With the way you looked tonight, and the fact that you had personally invited him out with you - albeit with a couple mutual friends - but none of them mattered, at least not to him. It also didn’t help that you had spent the last couple of years, ever since meeting through a group project in some long-forgotten university class, dragging him through some sick cat-and-mouse game. Always toeing the line between being just close friends, or something vaguely more, and Trent hated himself for just going along with it, but he’d by lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how weak he was to your charms.

But as he watched you, his breath heavy and heart beating steadily, he couldn’t help but question whether you had meant to do any of it at all. He watched you throw your head back in laughter and hot jealousy pulsed through him once more, yearning for nothing more than to be the one making you laugh instead of whatever other guy you were lending your attention to. Still, you looked so happy, so at peace, he couldn’t help but curse himself for even considering the possibility that you were purposely making him pine after you. After all, it was his fault - he had still yet to muster up the courage to ask you out on a date, even after being stupidly enamoured with everything about you since the day he met you. It was probably more rational to consider that he had just misread most of your actions beyond the friendly gestures they were supposed to be.

Suddenly, his attention was turned to the steady arm of another one of your male friends snaking around your waist, which Trent had been dragging his gaze along excruciatingly slowly - but now his focus was turned to the fact that this asshole was pulling you closer to himself, and further away from Trent.

Fuck rationality.

The thud of his glass was definite, followed quickly by his heavy footsteps as Trent shoved past the small group you had amassed, not bothering to make his actions subtle. It was clear to everyone, including himself, that Trent was moving faster than his rational thoughts could form, but that didn’t seem to matter when his hand was already wrapped tightly around your wrist, dragging you in the direction of the bar’s exit. You protested, struggling against his grip, but all it took was one look from him as he turned back to you - equal parts pained and pleading - for you to go with him.

The biting cold of the late night hit you the minute you stepped out of the bar, causing you to stop straight in your tracks and huff with frustration.

“Trent, what the hell is going on with you?” your tone was demanding, not making any effort to conceal your annoyance with him.

“I wasn’t going to stand by and watch that filth lay his hands all over you,” he retorts, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was equally annoyed with you. But from the way he can’t stand still and his eyes are scanning the pavement, avoiding yours, you know there’s something else at play here.

“Bullshit.”

“Wh- I can’t do something nice for you?”

“Giving me a life, paying for dinner, those are nice things - not snatching me away when I was in the middle of a conversation? Why do you care if some guy touches me?”

“Why do I care?” he scoffs, almost as if he doesn’t believe you haven’t realised why yet, “Because I’m in love with you! You’ve invited my out tonight, and you seem to be having the time of your life, but when I saw you with that guy, him making you laugh, touching you, all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be me instead. How much I’ve always wanted it to be me.”

A silence falls over you two, and it’s only now that the weight of Trent’s actions have hit him, as well as the realisation that he can’t do anything to take back his words now, or stop whatever reaction you’re about to give him. He makes his regret obvious almost immediately, his flustered expression dropping as he looks down to the ground once more, unable to bring himself to look at you. His confession hangs in the air, having changed both everything and nothing at once.

You stood there, slack-jawed, mind racing yet absolutely speechless. You’d be lying if you hadn’t at least suspected Trent of having feelings for you, but you had brushed any inkling you had off as your own misinterpretation. Hearing him say it out loud was another thing entirely, and it was overwhelming your every sense, but in a good way.

The silence became too much to bear, and Trent figured he’d have to be the one to brave it, “Say something, please,” he mumbles, voice heavy, almost preparing himself for rejection.

“Trent…” you begin, stepping slightly closer and reaching out to take his hand in yours, “I’ve wanted it to be you too.”

At this, he looks up at you, eyes glistening. “Really?” the disbelief in his voice almost breaks your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, almost laughing at how ridiculous this is, “for a while, actually.”

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear that,” he lets out an almost comical sigh of relief, finally breaking into a smile, and you can’t help but do the same.

“Now, I’d like to get back to my drink, if you don’t mind,” you say, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Why would I mind?” he laughs, and you could slap him right there and then, but you can only smile in faux-annoyance as the two of you walk back to the bar, hand-in-hand.

[lilacgyuvin]

out of my league — k. gyuvin

pairing: nerd!gyuvin x popular!gn!reader

synopsis: it’s valentine’s day! what better way to confess to your longtime crush (and the highschool’s most popular student) than with a letter shoved through their locker. just don’t let jiwoong find out.

wrd count: 6.3k (DAMN OKAY BITCH!!!)

warnings: highschool!au, slight hurt/lots of comfort, bully!jiwoong (srry someone had to do it), bullying, one km s joke, reader isn’t a bully, eunseok of riize sneak, jiwoong is really mean 😭 a little crack, funeral talk, not to be taken seriously this is fiction!!

a/n: yk i had to write smth with valentine’s day coming up!! i lobe gyuvin gyuvin pls be my valentine pls plsplspls

“I put a note in their locker.”

It probably wasn’t the best sentence starter, which Gyuvin realizes only after Taerae starts to choke on his strawberry soda mid-chug. Despite his eyes practically bulging out of his head paired with a boisterous gasp amidst hearing Gyuvin’s doings, Eunseok reaches a lending hand out to his suffocating friend’s back.

“You what?!” Eunseok screams in a hushed tone, despite being the only three occupants of the classroom. If Gyuvin didn’t think it was a stupid idea then, well, he certainly does now. He honestly wasn’t going to tell anyone at first; the embarrassment mixed with the fear of rejection almost made him drop the whole plan as a whole. However, binging 3 romance dramas back to back gave him the confidence he’d never thought he’d have otherwise if it weren’t for the male leads and their suave ways, which is what leads him to where he stands today: sending a confession letter to his longtime crush which also ended up being the cause of his friend’s premature death. Thanks, Choi Woong!

Taerae unfortunately survives his cough attack and uses his regained ability to breath properly to discourage Gyuvin’s efforts even more. “Jiwoong’s gonna kill you man.”

Yes, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear right now. He decides against answering with sarcasm and opts out to rolling his eyes as hard as he can at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-named.

“He didn’t see me put it in,” He certainly didn’t, and Gyuvin knows this because he showed up an hour earlier than normal to slip the note in, partly to avoid Jiwoong and to also beat his inevitable numerous contenders. “Plus, they’re not even dating. They don’t like him.”

Eunseok and Taerae share a glance. They look back at Gyuvin. “Did they tell you that.”

Gyuvin’s starting to get tired of rolling his eyes. Of course they didn’t tell him that, they’re nowhere near close. While they’ve coexisted in the same space for the past four years, their friend groups are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. They’re admired by everyone, in numerous clubs, and is practically known by the whole school. The only club Gyuvin’s a part of is the Epic Gamers Club™ held at Eunseok’s house every other day. And as far as being admired goes…

“Yo. Gyuvin.”

Oh fuck, it’s so over. Gyuvin is going to die. What’s-his-face is here and Gyuvin is going to die, all because he couldn’t confess to his crush like a normal person. How did Jiwoong even see him? It’s not like he handed the letter to them in plain sight, and there’s no way in hell Jiwoong showed up to school an hour early.

Well, none of that matters anymore. Jiwoong is now walking into the once peaceful confines of the classroom, his goons right behind him, and Gyuvin’s about to meet his end.

All he asks is that Y/n is at his funeral.

Despite coming into the classroom for Gyuvin, Jiwoong is kind enough to make time to mess around with his friends first. Wedging himself in between the three desks facing each other, Jiwoong snatches Taerae’s glasses off his face and tosses them to the floor, and at the same time shoves Eunseok’s tuna mayo kimbap out of his hands. So much for escaping the lunch room.

After watching his friends scramble for their discarded items, Jiwoong turns his back to them in favor of facing Gyuvin, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

Kim Jiwoong: The entire school’s boy crush and simultaneously Gyuvin’s worst nightmare. Going into high school, Gyuvin didn’t think he’d have problems with anyone, his plan was simple: make a decent amount of friends, stay in the honors program so he can get into his dream university, and best his all-time score in Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Oh, and get into his first relationship (since the girl he ‘dated’ in the second grade didn’t count, according to Taerae).

He guesses he strived too hard at the second thing though, as in their freshman year Jiwoong was left at second place in their classes overall academic ranking, and Jiwoong was never second.

Ever since then, Jiwoong has tried everything to sabotage Gyuvin’s grades, which ended in failure each time. So, he just stuck to messing with him. Now Gyuvin wouldn’t really mind if he had got reprimanded for his actions, but he gets away with it— every time. Sneaking slaps upside his head when passing him through the halls, pushing and tripping him during gym, and ‘accidentally’ spilling his drink onto his uniform (which is what initiated classroom lunches amongst him and his friends in the first place): he got away with it all, for four damn years. All because of that facade he puts up in front of everyone. With his perfect grades combined with his charm, he’s adored by students and faculty alike— all but the few who were unfortunate enough to be victims of his ridiculing, Gyuvin included.

The devil himself opens his mouth once again. “I haven’t seen you in a while, you hiding from me?” His smirk forms into a smile, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it holds the same sinister tone as his previous expression did.

Gyuvin looks up at him, disdain hidden behind the neutral shield he’s learned to master in favor of avoiding a swift blow to the face (not that it ever stopped Jiwoong from landing one, anyway). “No.”

At that, Jiwoong’s smile drops, his eyebrows furrow in fake confusion and he starts to look around the empty room. “But… you’re having lunch. In an empty classroom. When there’s a perfectly good cafeteria waiting for you downstairs.” Jiwoong’s friends snicker by the door as he leans down to be eye level with Gyuvin. “Don’t you find that rude, Gyuvin? The staff make sure the cafe is cleaned spotless for scum like you to eat, and you’re eating in the classroom?”

Literally what the fuck is he even talking about. It isn’t uncommon for students to eat in the classrooms, and he knows this because Jiwoong’s literally done it before. It’s in that moment that he realizes Jiwoong just came in here to mess with him, which means he doesn’t know about the letter which means that he won’t die today. Looks like he’ll live to see another day after all!

His newfound happiness isn’t long lived, as in the span of one second, Gyuvin blinks and his food is nothing but a pile of solids and liquids on the classroom’s floor.

Jiwoong gives him a mean snare, despite the fact that all of Gyuvin’s attention is to his now germ-infested food. “And now look, you made a mess.”

Gyuvin can barely hear him and his friends laughing with the way his ears are ringing— no, practically blaring throughout his head. His bulgogi over rice is on the floor. His fucking bulgogi over rice, the last of its kind (as his mom let him have the last of the leftovers), is now nothing but a concoction of soggy meat and rice sautaed with his strawberry milk.

Usually, Gyuvin would be the bigger person and walk away; he’d shut his mouth, clean up the mess, and go about his day. But for some reason, he doesn’t feel like being the mature one today. Maybe it’s the never ending grating laughter coming from his friends, maybe it’s because he’s tired of Jiwoong pushing him around, or maybe it’s just because his mom’s bulgogi is the best bulgogi, and now he can’t have any, all because Kim Jiwoong was bored.

Without a second thought, Gyuvin rises from his chair, lifting his arms to push at the chest of an unexpecting Jiwoong, who stumbles onto the desks of Gyuvin’s friends behind him (he’ll apologize to them for that later). Jiwoong unfortunately finds his footing rather quickly, and doesn’t waste a second as he roughly grabs Gyuvin by the collar, dragging him to the nearest wall and slams him against it. “You fucking crazy? Huh?!”

Those dramas must be really getting to me, Gyuvin thinks. It becomes obvious when he doesn’t shut his mouth after Jiwoong’s question. “Fuck you, Jiwoong.”

He doesn’t even mean to spit in his face, but it happens when he speaks, and he can feel his past self crying tears of joy. He’s been wanting to do this for four years. Maybe the bulgogi sacrificed itself for this very moment. Thanks, Bulgogi. I’ll never forget you.

Jiwoong dryly laughs, lolling his head to the side like the psycho he is. “Yeah, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Okay, remember when Gyuvin thought he was free from begging murdered and would live to see another day? He’s starting to think he spoke too soon.

It’s like things are moving in slow motion; Jiwoong releasing a hand on his collar in favor of making a fist angled straight at Gyuvin’s nose, his friends standing from their seats in dreadful anticipation, and the swift breeze that comes from the door being swung open.

“Leave him alone, Jiwoong.”

Ah, his guardian angel.

In less than a millisecond, Jiwoong’s vice grip on Gyuvin’s collar is released, and the fist ready to knock him out is lowered to his side. A deep sigh escapes his throat before he turns to the agitated student. “Go back downstairs, Y/n. This is nothing.”

Gyuvin almost laughs wholeheartedly at Jiwoong’s weak attempt to redirect them. As if he could get them to do anything he said.

Y/n cooks their head to the side, which in Gyuvin’s book is a telltale sign that they’re about to read the fuck out of Jiwoong. “Yeah, it was nothing, until you decided to come in here and bother them for literally no reason. Do you seriously have nothing else better to do?”

Gyuvin can feel an amused smile crawling onto his face as he watches Jiwoong scramble to find an excuse. Seeing Jiwoong try his hardest not to physically deflate in front of his friends would never get old.

And neither would his good-boy facade, apparently! Despite being caught in the act by Y/n for the millionth time, Jiwoong still attempts to save face by pulling out the puppy eyes plucked from the deepest pits of Hell, paired with the fakest apologetic look Gyuvin’s ever witnessed, and turns to be face to face with Y/n, caressing their arm in what he thinks is a comforting gesture. “Come on, don’t be like that. What, you want me to apologize?”

“Yes.”

Like he’s just heard he’s due to get castrated tomorrow morning, his hand’s cease the petting motion and Jiwoong does a double take. “You serious?” He looks into their eyes for any signs of humor behind them (which is stupid for issuing an apology, Gyuvin thinks), and when he doesn’t find any, he drops the act faster than Gyuvin can say ‘COD sucks’ and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out the loudest groan known to man. “Oh my- fine.” Jiwoong looks to his right, locking eyes with him, “Sorry for knocking over your piece of shit lunch, Gyuvin.”

Piece of— his mom’s bulgogi?! Of course Jiwoong wouldn’t know the significance the lunch held for Gyuvin, but he wouldn’t care anyway, so Gyuvin breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes as far into his head as humanly possible.

Gyuvin, now making his way to his book bag to retrieve napkins for his late lunch on the floor, can’t see the look of disbelief on Jiwoong’s face, but he sure can hear it. “What, you’re not gonna accept my apology?”

Gyuvin doesn’t stop fetching for the tissues even when he hears Jiwoong’s footsteps approaching him, and neither does he stop when they come to a halt. “He doesn’t have to do anything,” When he finally retrieves the napkins, Y/n is at his side on the floor, grabbing the empty plastic bag on his desk. “Now if you aren’t going to help clean up, then leave.”

Jiwoong furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t need to help them, Y/n.”

“I also don’t have to meet with you at the cafe after school.”

Oh, Gyuvin knows that one hurt. Everyone knows Jiwoong’s been dying to ask Y/n out for a while now (mostly because he’d never shut up about it), and boy was Gyuvin right. He stumbles over his words as he raises his arms before dropping them. “Come on, Y/n. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Despite the obvious hurt in his voice, they don’t even spare him a glance, focusing on the mess in front of them. “..So? We’re not dating, take Minjeong or something.”

A beat of silence passes, and he thinks Jiwoong died of embarrassment until a scoff erupts from his throat. Okay, there was no way Gyuvin would miss out on seeing Jiwoong’s face after getting rejected before he could even confess, so he raises his head and fully suspects Jiwoong to be sulking or something. He was so wrong. When Gyuvin looks up, Jiwoong is staring right at him, his eyes holding nothing but disdain and revulsion. Wow, Gyuvin thinks, if this is how he reacts to them just simply helping me, what’s he gonna do when they accept (which they hopefully will) my confession? He’d rather not think about that right now actually, and he doesn’t have to any longer, as Jiwoong turns on his heels and makes his way out of the classroom, his goons behind him, but not before mumbling a parting gift for Gyuvin. “Fuckin’ freak.”

So original. Anyway, Gyuvin’s just glad he doesn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the lunch period. His friend’s are quick to his side, and he reassures them that he’s fine. “I’ll go get more napkins.” Eunseok nods and rises from the floor, and is halfway through the door before he stops when he realizes Taerae isn’t behind him.

He cranes his head to the side, and from the corner of his eye he can see Taerae still at Gyuvin’s side. Unbelievable. “Um, Taerae.” He raises his head to his friend standing, and doesn’t get the hint until Eunseok is nudging his head towards the hallway in a ‘get-the-fuck-out’ sorta way.

He looks between Gyuvin and Y/n before his whole body straightens, finally getting up from his crouching position. “Oh! Um, yeah. I’m going to get napkins too.” While Taerae walks towards his other friend, Gyuvin raises his head, and Eunseok gives him a thumbs up in support. It’s in that moment that Gyuvin decides pizza’s gonna be on him at tonight’s Epic Gamers Club™ meeting.

A beat of silence passes, only the sounds of his poor lunch being scooped up into the bag are heard, until Gyuvin musters the courage to start the conversation.

“Thanks for helping me.” He doesn’t have to stop his task to know that they’re smiling. “Of course, I’m sorry about him.” They say in a remorseful tone.

Gyuvin hates the way they apologize on Jiwoong’s behalf, but at the same time he can’t help the way their kindness makes him feel all warm and gooey inside— They're just too good for this world. “You don’t have to apologize for him. You’re not his babysitter.”

His last comment seems to make Y/n laugh. ‘Huh, I’m just funny like that, I guess’ (It’s what he’s thinking, but his friends would agree to disagree.) “It sometimes feels that way.”

Gyuvin hesitates to ask his next question; they’re not exactly close, but he’s been feeling all sorts of confident recently, so he does anyway. “Why do you hang out with him? With them?” ‘Them’ being the rest of Jiwoong’s posee who think they’re hot shit; being all types of mean to other students just because of their looks or their parents’ social statuses. Gyuvin doesn’t think he hates anything more than a snobby rich asshole, which is what induced Gyuvin’s question in the first place, because Y/n isn’t a snobby rich asshole, yet they hang out with a group of them. It’s a question he’s been dying to ask for years now, and all it took was for Jiwoong to fuck up his lunch. Gyuvin almost mentally thanks him, but he barfs in his mouth a bit just thinking about it.

A few seconds pass, and it seems like they’re trying to find an answer to the question themselves. A nervous sigh passes through their lips as they wipe at the strawberry milk staining the floor. “Well, I guess I just fell into it? The friend group, I mean. When I first transferred, I thought they were really nice. At least they treated me that way. I don’t know why.”

‘Because you’re smart and all types of talented and you’re fucking gorgeous’ and a thousand other things is what Gyuvin wants to say, but he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets them continue. “But yeah, they’d always push me to hang out with them, and I guess by the time I realized who they truly were, everyone had already established their friends groups.” At this point is where they ran out of napkins and there was still a bit of the mess left over, so the two sit across from each other, leaning on the legs of the desks behind them. Despite loving the alone time they’re getting, Gyuvin hopes Eunseok and Taerae come back with more tissue soon, or else he’d have to explain the mess to his teacher, thus taking the fall for Jiwoong once again. His sulking that came from just thinking about the possibility is interrupted when Y/n speaks again, in a more hushed tone this time. “I guess I’m just scared of being alone.”

Woah, Gyuvin’s never thought of it that way. Having no friends was a valid fear, hell, Gyuvin felt that way before he met his. He can’t imagine how it would affect Y/n. The school’s most popular student: a loner— they’d never hear the end of it.

He hates that they feel like they need to hang out with pieces of shit to avoid being lonely, when that isn’t the truth at all. As delusional as it may sound, Gyuvin is right here. Who cares if they don’t have similar interests? They can introduce each other to all their different hyper fixations and special interests. And so what if they’re from seemingly different worlds? Gyuvin would swim across all the oceans and walk over thousands of miles if it meant getting to be with Y/n. Every time they’re paired to work on an assignment together, whenever they congratulate him on yet another academic achievement, when Y/n spots him in the hallway and stops to talk to Gyuvin and only Gyuvin. It never gets old, his heart beating a million times over with how kind and effortlessly funny and drop dead gorgeous they are. Fuck, he thinks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on if they reject me.

Gyuvin never wants them to feel alone, he needs to let them know that such a thing can never happen. He can tell his silence goes on longer than expected with the way they start to nervously fiddle with the edges of their uniform sleeves. He says it before he can think about it for another second. “You don’t have to be alone. I-I know we’re not close, but you can talk to me.”

With the speed in which their head lifts from their fixed view on the ground, Gyuvin doesn’t know if he’s successfully swooned them or if he effectively fucked up his chances at being anything to them. He needs to save face, so he raises his hands in defense, his eyes widening in pure fear. “O-only if you want to! Like. Just in case you felt like it or whatever.” Yeah, it totally wouldn’t put me into anaphylactic shock if you were to seek me out in any way shape or form!

Gyuvin lowers his hands, leans back on the legs of the desk, and watches as Y/n’s expression transforms from one of shock, to pure adoration. Their eyes soften in a way Gyuvin’s never seen before, and if he were to look a little closer, he swears there are tears swimming at the brim of them, threatening to fall.

‘FuckifImadeY/ncryI’mgonnaenditall’ is the one thought running through Gyuvin’s head as he waits for a response. He isn’t joking either— he’s sorry to his loved ones and all that, and he supposes the Epic Gamer Club™ would have to go on an indefinite hiatus with the emotional trauma it’d leave on his friends. He wonders if his dog would be brought to his funeral?

Turns out he won’t have to plan out his funeral arrangements after all, that becomes clear when a warm smile meets their eyes, and the tears dwindle to a glassy thin layer over their eyes. “I’d love to. Thank you, Gyuvin.”

Oh Gyuvin thinks his heart just exploded, but like, in a good way. A love explosion, if you will. He doesn’t waste a beat before he’s sporting a smile of his own, sitting straighter than before. “Anytime.”

His friends aren’t back, the period isn’t over yet, and he doesn’t want to stop the conversation there. So, he talks about the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past week. “I saw your locker. You got a lot of letters.”

Y/n laughs bashfully at the mention of the hundreds- no, thousands of letters they received today. When they arrived at school, they opened their locker and was bombarded with a sea of pink and red cards that practically drowned them, and by the time second period rolled around, their desk was stuffed to the brim with even more advances in the form of candies and cute plushies. “Yeah, I haven’t even gotten to a single one yet! I’ll do it before school ends, though. I’m glad people like me enough to get me things.”

They’ve got to be kidding. The spring semester of freshman year was absolutely rocked by the wave that was Y/n’s arrival. Despite coming from a normal, middle class family, they were quick to rise in popularity. At first, it had just been their beauty that seemed to draw everyone in, but as soon as they were able to showcase their physical and academic skill, along with their endless heaps of kindness, they became more than just a pretty face, and the whole student body can testify to that. Unfortunately, by the 4th day into the new semester Jiwoong and his loser-ass friends had already sunk their claws into Y/n and scooped them up before any other group could. But yeah, anyone who doesn’t love Y/n is crazy and is probably most definitely going to hell.

‘I hope you read mine.’ It’s at the tip of his tongue, he’s straightening his posture to sit taller and ask them with his whole chest, and—

“More napkins!” is the opener Taerae decides to go with as he and Eunseok barge into the confines of the classroom. “Uhh sorry we took so long, we were arguing about…” he turns to Eunseok who just shrugs his shoulders before turning back to the two. “.. who the strongest avenger is.”

Gyuvin wants to roll his eyes, partly because they couldn’t have come up with a lamer excuse even if they tried, they unknowingly sabotaged his unplanned confession, and cause the strongest avenger is obviously Scarlet Witch.

He decides against it, rather locking eyes with Y/n who he finds is already staring at him, and they exchange equally bashful smiles. Gyuvin isn’t mad at his friends, not when they invade his and Y/n’s space to help clean the last of the mess, and not when they use the rest of the lunch period to bombard them with questions like, ‘have you read kimetsu no yaiba?’ and ‘where would you go if a zombie apocalypse broke out?’ (they answered with staying in Seoul, which prompted Taerae to blatantly tell them they’re going to die, which in turn earned himself a slap from Gyuvin).

He isn’t mad because he still has a chance: today, at 3:00 in room 124 after school like his letter specified. He hopes, some way, that through the piles of letters and candies and plushies and whatever the hell else, they somehow recognize Gyuvin’s from the crowd, and pick him.

It’s time.

It’s time, and Gyuvin’s got it all figured out: Although school’s ended 45 minutes ago, he knows Y/n is part of the cooking club, so he isn’t keeping them behind or anything. He used that time to run to the flower shop a few minutes away and get them their favorites along with a stuffed animal. The classroom he initiated the meeting place in was one that was barely used by students, let alone teachers, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Oh! And it’s on the first floor, so if Jiwoong happened to find out about his advances and decided to sabotage him with his friends, then he could jump out the window without sustaining any injuries.

Gyuvin’s got it all figured out, so why’s he practically shitting bricks right now?

There are a lot of reasons really— the main one being the fear of rejection which he’s afraid he’ll never be able to live down which will lead to him maybe most certainly doing something drastic.

But it’s 2:58, two minutes before Gyuvin’s letter says for them to meet, and he has to pull himself together. He decides pacing around the room a billion times isn’t gonna do the trick, so he opts out to sitting on the teacher’s desk instead, setting the flowers and plushie behind him. He pulls out his phone and at the same time receives a text from Eunseok.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: let us know how it goes 🫡 also please don’t die today

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: taerae brought danganronpa and you know how he likes to voice the lines aloud. you’re nagito we need you

Along with Taerae’s ridiculous gaming antics, Gyuvin finds it amusing how Eunseok also thought about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, and it makes him laugh, somewhat calming his nerves down. It’s comforting to know that if this confession doesn’t end up going well, he’ll at least have his friends to fall back on.

“What’s so funny?”

The sudden voice echoes through the empty classroom and Gyuvin almost lauches his phone through the ceiling with the way he jumps.

His heart drops a million times over and he nearly passes out, but he doesn’t, as an angel was sent before him. The angel, if you will.

Standing by the now closed door was Y/n, the sun cascading over their skin to only amplify the seemingly everlasting glow on their face. The same tender smile that they gave Gyuvin a few hours earlier was back, and he looks down and—

They’re holding his letter.

Out of the swarm of all the pinks and reds, through the heart-shaped candies and the softest plushies, none of them are in sight but Gyuvin’s. Gyuvin’s, with the stupid Evangelion washi tape on the side preventing the envelope from falling open after he accidentally ripped it, the one with animal crossing stickers plastered every which way because Y/n mentioned the game once, the one with emoticons drawn on by Gyuvin himself in hopes of standing out in the sea of letters: it was in the grasp of Y/n’s hands, fiddling with the edges as they approach Gyuvin in what to him feels like slow motion.

He honestly feels like he could cry. Oh shit, is he crying? Gyuvin sets his phone down to raise a hand to his cheek, which is thankfully dry, but the action brings him back to reality and he realizes that he’s been staring for longer than normal, so he manages to use the little breath he has left to muster what he can.

“You came.” It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do, and way better than just staring at them in pure silence.

“Of course I did.” They say it like it’s the most obvious thing ever, which only serves to throw Gyuvin off even more.

“But- what about everyone else?” What he really wants to say is ‘why me?’ Throughout the day he’d pass by their locker, their desks, even Y/n themselves; everyone seeking them out were more than worthy candidates. Whether it were their looks, their popularity, or the fact that they were confident enough to confess straight to their face— all of them were more worthy than Gyuvin could ever be. So why were they here, at 3:00 pm in room 124 like the letter read?

They shrug, a knowing smile plastered on their face. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah.” He opens his mouth, breathing in a handful of air before speaking again, “...I forgot what I was gonna say.”

It wasn’t a total lie! He was caught completely off guard, it was kinda expected to forget the speech he’s been practicing for weeks now. It doesn’t seem to phase Y/n though, for they simply shrug again, and begin to remove the letter from the envelope in their hand. “That’s okay. Maybe if we read your letter it’ll jog your memory.”

‘Dear Y/n,

I know we aren’t close, but you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Please meet me in room 124 @ 3:00pm today, so that I can express my feelings in full.

— Kim Gyuvin’

It sounded like poetry when Gyuvin read it in his head, aloud in his room, and then to his mom for a second voice of opinion (she said he was better than Shakespeare, which went straight to his head). But now Gyuvin isn’t too sure how that made the final cut, he cringes a million times over when they read it out loud.

He scratches the back of his head and tries to hide his mortification as much as possible. “Sorry, I know that’s pretty vague..”

“It’s okay! You can say whatever’s on your mind, I’m all ears.”

Holy shit, this was really happening. He doesn’t know why, but he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he thought Y/n was too good for him, and he really did think about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, but none of that matters anymore— not when his dream come true is standing right in front of him, when they could be doing anything else right now and they decided to be with him. The fact that they’re even giving him the time of day is enough to fuel him with more confidence than those romance dramas ever could.

He stands up from the desk, and takes a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n, I have for a while now. You’re smart and funny and really pretty, and you’re always nice to me. I know we don’t like all of the same things, but that doesn’t bother me. I want to learn more about you, I want to learn everything about you. I hope you feel the same way, and if not, I understand. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we graduated without letting you know how I feel.” Without turning around, he reaches for the flowers and stuffed animal, trying his best to steady the nervous look creeping onto his face as he holds the items out between the two of them. “Please be my valentine! And then something more. If you wanted to.”

Gyuvin’s rant has finally come to an end, and he doesn’t realize they’re tearing up until he’s holding the items up for them to take.

Oh my God he’s seriously made Y/n cry, he’s got to end it now. It’s what he’s thinking until his personal space is being invaded by the warmth of the bone crushing hug Y/n has them in before Gyuvin can even apologize.

Despite their face being shoved into his chest, tears wetting his uniform vest, they still manage to muster a coherent response. “I’m glad you told me before graduation. Of course I’ll be your valentine.”

Wait, what? Gyuvin stiffens in their hold when he both realizes that he hadn’t returned their hug and that they said yes?! “Oh my God really? Wait. I’m sorry, I know this is what I like, wanted, but can I ask why?” their hold on Gyuvin releases a bit as he continues, “Is this just you being nice? Cause if so—”

In the span of two seconds, their warmth is gone, and Gyuvin can’t even sulk the lost feeling before he’s being punched in the arm. “Ow!”

Their tear stained face holds a look of offense, like Gyuvin just wronged their entire lineage. “You think I’m crying just to be nice?” Oh, he thinks, thats a good point. “I like you too, dummy. You’re really smart, and you never stoop to people like Jiwoong’s level whenever they bother you. Also, you get really cute when talking about your dog or those games you like.”

They actually listened to his stupid rants? How could he not blush at that? It spreads from his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and fails to go unnoticed by Y/n. “And when you blush. You’re just a big cutie.”

Oh Gyuvin’s having one of those love explosions again, but like, a million times worse. This can’t possibly be good for his health. In a poor attempt to hide his bashfulness, Gyuvin brings his hands up to cover his face, his words muffled by the makeshift shield. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”

And apparently Gyuvin’s suffering is funny? Because now they’re laughing, coming closer and raising their own hands to grab at Gyuvin’s wrists, successfully pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be shy now! You’ve come so far.”

They’re right, he has come so far. So why cower away now? He’s quite literally got them in the palm of his hands (or vise versa, he should say), and he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away now. With their hands now holding his wrists at their sides, Gyuvin doesn’t have half the mind to think before he’s leaning in, landing a feather-light peck to their lips. ‘Oh fuck, am I doing this right?’ It isn’t until now that Gyuvin remembers he’s never actually kissed anyone before, and panic follows quickly as he pulls away, their faces still mere inches away. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m—”

Their lips are suddenly on each other again, but it’s Y/n who initiates the kiss, and it's beyond better than Gyuvin’s. It’s light and refreshing, like how Gyuvin feels whenever they’re around. Their lips are as soft as their hands in his grip, and he can feel them smiling against his as they continue. He never wants to let go of this moment.

He ends up not minding when it does end though, for when they both pull away, Y/n finally lets his wrists go in favor of holding his face in their hands, which has Gyuvin practically melting into their touch. “If you apologize one more time, I’m going to punch you again.” They smile, despite having just threatened him.

Gyuvin doesn’t mind, though. They could hit him with the force of a hundred meteors, and he’d still forgive them. So he just smiles, basking in the warmth of their hands. “So, what’d you wanna do now?”

Y/n ponders for a moment, and perks up not long after. “Wanna go grab food?”

Oh, Gyuvin could cry. Y/n came straight from the cooking club, where they make full course meals that they get to eat at the end, so there was no reason for Y/n to be hungry. Yet Gyuvin’s lunch was ruined by what’s-his-face, and there was no way he wasn’t starving by now, and they remembered that.

He doesn’t wanna ruin the mood with his crocodile tears, so he sucks up his tears as much as he can, and smiles fondly instead. “Sounds perfect.”

Gyuvin’s still in a minor state of shock when they walk out of the school's doors. The person who he’s been pining over for the past four years likes him back, and they’re going on a date. Is this a date? He doesn’t want to ask, rather basking in the sun from both the sky and the one right next to him. He’s kind of worried that Jiwoong is gonna find out, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much when his valentine is holding his hand as they make their way to the train station.

He takes note of their warning from earlier, but he has to ask. “Are you okay? Sorry for making you cry.”

Gyuvin’s ready to take a punch, but he’s lightly shoved instead, making the both of them lose their footing a bit before walking in tandem again. “It’s okay. And yeah, you’re just really sweet.” They turn to him and smile, squeezing his hand lightly. “Okay, let’s learn more about each other starting now. What kind of ramen do you like?”

“Wanna check out the new spot downtown and find out?”

Gojo’s boy toys (◕ε◕*)

3:40 pm

You: bros.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : bro??

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : was that a good bros or a bad bros

You: we kissed

You: we’re going out for ramen now

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : ?$/;&/??@

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : BROOOOOO

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : omg i’m crying

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : gyuvin im crying

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : he is crying gyuvin

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : we’re so happy for you bro.

You: thanks guys 😄

i’ll still be home in time to play so

just sit tight

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : tell y/n i say sorry for saying they have zero survival instinct!!!

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : AND FUCK YOU JIWOONG

a/n: in no way am i implying that doing things like reading manga or playing smash bros is weird, i just took things that’ve gotten me called a nerd 😭😭 also being a nerd isn’t bad i love my nerds 🫡 stream beautiful monster stan p1h get get get get a guitar bai

[kyri45]

Ahhh your lmk comic is amazing!!! Pls let me ramble a little, sorry advanced for a lot of reading-

Everything in the comic is so wonderfully written and clever, details like Macaque still afraid that MK hadn’t forgiven him even when Wukong said the opposite, I love that it wasn’t just a quick conversation solved everything. Ofc nothing short of a kaiju transformation was going to change Macaque’s mind. And after all that I just know this conversation won’t be over, this was only the start XD

Another detail I really liked was Wukong trying to stop MK from following Macaque thinking it’s too dangerous, Wukong himself still too afraid to push Macaque too far since they’re not there yet in their relationship, afraid of getting rejected again even when they’re talking again and on good terms/ this has happened before and hadn’t ended well for either of them- while MK trusted with his whole heart and went after Macaque.

It even tied in with Macaque’s lesson that he didn’t have to summon the Kaiju form when angry! This is the second time MK has used this form and instead of using to attack it’s used for comfort. And the trust too of Macaque letting MK in when before it might’ve not been that way. Ofc he wouldn’t ever hurt the kid but there’s communication now!

Especially the drawn details!!!

Like when Macaque flinches when MK transforms we’re on the side with his scar(I see you-) and a hug is so unexpected for everyone!! There needs to be more hugs!! The use of physical touch for comfort in this comic is immaculate, MK returning it the hug when his dad’s have hugged him, leaned against him, and held his hands when he’s needed the comfort!! Heartbreaking too Macaque would just brace for a hit, expecting nothing but pain, he didn’t move to defend- he even put his arms down!!

And I adore that MK is still a baby in his kaiju form!! Still smaller than dad. Or he looks smaller to me, I might be wrong! But it’s still a detail I noticed of MK shifting to match Macaque’s level. I love too the shadow bandages wrap around MK, similar to his tails wrapping around Macaque to complete the hug.

(And the live Wukong reaction??? Omg)

It’s also a nice detail as well that Wukong hadn’t felt the need to step in, letting the both of them talk first.

Just everything about the comic is handled with such care, this long ramble might’ve been silly or some of the things I pointed out are obvious but it’s still things I noticed and really liked!!

I honestly come in to check if there’s a new update everyday now, thank you so much for drawing out such a wonderful idea!! :D

AWWWW ok srsly Imma about to cry ;_;

tysm for this whole message, it was super heartwarming and I appreciated it smm that someone read in all the small details I out into the comic, makes me wanna keep doing them with the same care everytime.

I don't know how long this AU will last so I hope the gay monkies will lend me their power of inspirations to keep drawing / writing.

Thank you again!!

[kometqh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt. 2, Pt.3, Pt.4 The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count:3,474 Warnings: Descriptions of sexual activity, minor swearing, also halfway unedited (will work on that). If I missed anything (pls im not good with tags) please let me know! ^^ A/N: This Rex fanfic idea took over my brain and I already have the whole story planned out and I'm in love <33

The evening burned so hot; the arid August air grazed through your lungs like gravel. The usually rackety crickets were unusually quiet, except for the occasional croak. The steady drip, drip, drip of water filled the still evening. And then, as your hands wrenched the dirty water from the rag, a hushed groan trickled from around the corner. It was quickly suppressed, but you had heard it. Slowly, you stood up from your crouched position, you abandoned the rug on the concrete. As far as you were aware, all the residents of the Viscounts’ manor were asleep. You took a step forward, craning your head in the direction of where the sound came from. Nothing. Just the occasional hum of crickets and your steady breathing.

With a few more steps forward, your heart leaped to your throat. It wasn’t nothing. Someone was there. Hidden behind the arched wall and doorway that separated the manor from the extensive, plush green, mile-long fields. Were they intruders? But the manor was so far out into the countryside. It would take hours to get there by carriage, never mind by foot. Who would bother going that far? But it was a possibility. An unlikely one, but still a possibility.

The grass was soft beneath your bare feet, cold and tickling as you inched closer and closer. Your thoughts were racing, and your heart was punching vigorously on your ribcage. What were you going to do, if they were in fact, intruders?

As you reached the wooden doorway you noticed it was slightly ajar. Enough to fit an arm through it, enough to not be seen by anyone unless they were standing directly in it, watching. The wood was harsh against your palm as you leaned against it, scraping warningly on your fingertips.

Your heart dropped. Your throat dried. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up.

Breathy, desperate muffled moans, the ruffle of expensive silks and fine cotton, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin. It felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed in your face. This… You’d been hired as a House Maid. Previously you had worked in a number of different roles, so you had seen all the different kinds of dirty and awful in homes and manors alike. This wasn’t one of them. This was a situation you found yourself stunned at. Confused at. What were they doing?

The woman’s hair covered their faces, lending them some privacy in such an intimate, and yet such vulgar moment. Who were they? Servants? No. The clothing was too expensive, this place too hidden. All you knew was that this was deliberate. Whether you were meant to find them was a coincidence or not, you weren’t sure.

Unexpectedly, the woman leaned her head back. Her lips, coloured some finest shade of red, gaped openly at the sky above. You didn’t recognise her. But the male who had trapped her against the wall – you knew his face all too well.

He was your employer.

The Viscount.

A light gasp escaped you, realisation crashing into you like a carriage into a boulder. His head snapped in your direction.

Surprise gleamed in his eyes, but he continued his ministrations, his gaze locked onto you. As if he had casted a spell, you found yourself unable to move. Your feet were cemented to the ground, your lungs still as you held your breath. You were a mere statue, your gaze forever stuck on the pair before you. There was a glint of a warning in his irises, as if he was daring you to make a sound, daring you to interrupt him.

Your gaze wavered, straying to glance at the darkness behind.

The amber glow of a nearby lamp was the only source of light, the only thing that allowed you to comprehend what was truly happening. It flickered with each gentle breeze that passed, swaying alluringly on the burning wick. It burned warm, so warm you could almost feel the scalding, waxy trail of it across your skin. The fields behind were pushed away into the background, swallowed in complete and utter darkness, the forests looming in the far distance like a shadow. Whatever was lurking out there would have been a more welcome disturbance than what you were witnessing up close. You felt like a meagre, frightened insect tangled up and struggling in a sticky web you had no business soaring into.

The Viscounts’ voice snapped your attention back to him. No, it commanded you.

“Look at me.” He rasped out, and for a moment you faltered. You weren’t sure whether the command was directed at you, or the mystery woman. Were you beginning to get caught up in a fantasy you had no right to dream?

With another moan, she gripped the Viscount’s face, pulling it towards her. “Kiss me.” She uttered, looking up at him through a fan of thick, dark eyelashes. He was quick to oblige, leaning forward, pressing his lips against hers. His gaze slowly abandoned you, and so did the spell with it. Your feet no longer felt stuck, your hands no longer felt ice cold, and your breaths no longer felt suppressed.

Like a fawn, you scurried away, bunching your skirts in your hand. Your feet carried you as fast and as quiet as they could. Your sight landed on the wooden bucket you had abandoned, and with one hand, you reached for it. You couldn’t leave any traces behind. You couldn’t risk losing your job.

“What was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself as you entered the manor again, heading straight for the kitchens. How long had you spent staring and gaping at them? Surely long enough for the images to replay vividly in your mind, long enough for all the floors to dry up. The tiles sparkled like thousands of miniscule diamonds under the low glow of candles. Vases of ruby pink and white, carefully picked out roses littered the hallways, spaced exactly five metres apart until they stopped just before the kitchens.

One hand reached for the door, pushing on it with vigour.

In your hurry, you forgot one thing.

The doors creaked and protested loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. You flinched, gripping the doors. You stopped them from moving, and warily glanced over your shoulder. Not a living soul in sight.

“Thank the lord.” You whispered, and silently slipped through the small space.

The door closed behind you with a soft thump, and you allowed yourself to take a deep breath. Through the nose, into the chest. You counted to three, holding your breath, before slowly exhaling. You repeated the motion as you emptied the bucket and hung the rags to dry. You continued it as you made your way to your small, closet-sized bedroom. Your steps were small, timid as you feared of walking past someone, anyone. Fear prickled at your skin; every sound of the manor caused goosebumps to flare up on your skin like a rash.

You couldn’t feel more relieved when the small, wooden door came into view. Gently, you twisted the doorknob, letting yourself in.

You let it stay open, just long enough to light a single candle.

The flame flickered as it grew, warmth extending from the wick to your fingertips. It engulfed the room in a fading orange glow as you closed and locked the door. The only sound in the room was your deep inhales and exhales, and the light creak of your bed as it dipped under your weight.

Your heart was pounding, blood thrumming deafeningly in your skull. Your stomach twisted in an unfamiliar knot, and a burning sensation settled at your core long ago. Your thoughts were quiet, replaying the sight like a melody on a gramophone.

You had stood there long enough to imprint the sight into your memory.

You could recount every second of the encounter, every drawn-out breath, every sound a scullery maid like you shouldn’t hear, as if you were a sinner in church.

“I’ll be lucky if I still have a job and a roof over my head in the morning.” You muttered to yourself as you stood up, readying for bed. You had a long day ahead tomorrow, to be sure.

But as you lay under the duvet, your mind couldn’t stop replaying the memory.

Those golden, dangerous eyes.

Morning rolled around faster than you had expected, your eyes snapping open when someone knocked loudly on your door. You scurried out of your bed, wrapping a stray blanket over your chest.

“Coming!” You shouted, searching for your shoes. You searched under your bed, and next to your small closet. They were nowhere to be found.

Two more knocks, and you moved towards the door. Screw it, you’d find your shoes later.

As the lock turned and the hinges swung, you were greeted with a surprising sight. The Housekeeper was at your door.

“Mrs Opal? What can I do for you?” You had asked, fighting hard to keep your surprise at bay.

The woman scorned you with a glare, her lips drawn into a thin line. She looked you up and down, her hands neatly folded behind her back. After a silent moment, she spoke up.

“The Viscount has requested your presence in his study… He says there is a matter he must discuss with you. Get dressed and make your way to the First Floor.” She said promptly, walking away before you had a chance to even think of a response. Confusion was clear on your features as you peered out, watching the Housekeeper disappear round the corner.

What did the Viscount himself want to do with you?

You shook your head, mumbling profanities under your breath. The door closed with a loud thud behind you as you began searching for your neatest piece of clothing. The best you could do was the violet petticoat given to every member of staff. Working as fast as you could, with practiced, experienced hands, you were dressed within minutes.

As your hand landed on the doorknob, your stomach churned. What could be so strangely important that the Viscount wished to speak to you?

Your footsteps were light and hurried as you made your way through the hallways, your voice soft as you greeted the other members of staff. The kitchens were already busy, with cooks and maids scrambling about to deliver breakfast to the family.

The footmen were at their stations, nodding lightly to you as you passed each one by. The rows of ruby pink and creamy white roses were a welcome sight, and a sense of calm washed over you. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been so bad. Maybe, possibly, you were about to receive the opportunity of a lifetime.

Your thoughts didn’t stray even as you made your way up the stairwell, the soft thud of your footsteps the only sound coming from the lower floors.

And, as you reached the first floor, you were greeted with the sight of the Housekeeper and the Steward moving animatedly, deep in discussion. They seemed to be… Aggravated. No, perhaps quarrelling.

They stopped as you approached slowly, your hands entwined together at your front.

“There you are. You look presentable.” Was the highest appraisal Mrs Opal could lend out. You gave a curt nod, thanking her quietly. The steward remained silent; his bird brown eyes trained on you. “Now follow us. The Viscount shouldn’t be made to wait.” She continued, leading you down the hallways. More light flooded the upper floor, and you couldn’t help but admire the view of the windows from afar. The ground floor and basements lacked natural light or windows, and it was more common for you to be scrubbing something during daylight hours.

Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged no more words in your presence, choosing to remain distant and silent. Their footsteps remained as light as a phantom’s, almost floating on the soft, teal carpet. They served their purpose; chilling you to the bone with anticipation and uneasiness.

The air felt cleaner up here, you noted. More windows had been opened, allowing fresh, countryside air to waft in. Along with it came the harmonious chirps of songbirds and insects alike. You rubbed the material of your skirt between your fingers, doing your best to wipe any sweat off as the doors to the Viscount’s study came into view. As the three of you came to a stop, Mrs Opal and the Steward exchanged glances, before turning to you. This time, the Steward spoke up

“When in the presence of the Viscount, you do not speak unless spoken to. You do not look at him, unless you are requested to do so. You do not sit unless you are permitted to. And last of all, we refer to the Viscount as ‘Lord’. Are we clear?” His voice was like a nail under a tool, sharp and unrelenting as he hammered the rules into your skull.

“Yessir.” You answered quietly, not looking up.

“Wonderful.” He responded, and inched closer to the door. He raised a gloved fist to the door, and knocked three, distinct and perfected knocks, as if the rhythm and consistency of a knock varied from situation to situation. The doors opened before him, the hinges silent, unlike the ones on the ground floor.

“Come in.” A soft voice instructed, and the three of you walked in in a single file. The Steward led at the front, Mrs Opal stationed in the middle, and you at the end. The doors were closed behind your figure, and you failed to hide your jitteriness as you jumped slightly. However, you did succeed in supressing the urge to look back. Your head remained tilted downwards, your sight focused on the diamond-patterned carpet beneath your feet. A short-lived relief surged through you as you remembered; you had lost your shoes. You were essentially barefoot on the Viscount’s expensive carpet. The morning had already had a rocky start, what was next?

“This is the House Maid you requested to see, my Lord. Is there anything else you need, my Lord?” The Stewards’ voice softened, his stern posture shrinking under the gaze of the Viscount.

He must have whispered or something, as you were caught by surprise when both the Steward and Mrs Opal stuttered in confusion, and you once again had to fight the urge to look up.

“Must I repeat myself?” The Viscount asked, his voice deep and gravelly. Someone must have had an early morning, you thought to yourself.

The Steward shook his head, gesturing for Mrs Opal to follow him.

The doors opened, the sound of a few pairs of footsteps retreating reached you, before they swung again.

Your heart thrummed in your chest, flapping wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. Were the two of you alone? If so… Why?

You swallowed the forming lump in your throat, rubbing the pads of your thumbs on the cotton material of your skirt. Why was he so quiet? Were you meant to look up? No. The Steward – you really should have asked for his name – was stern on telling you to avoid doing so.

So what was the Viscount waiting for?

“You may look up, little one.” His voice was coarse, finer than the most miniscule, smoothest grains of sand on Tattooine. Heat rushed to your face, and you questioned whether it was from the uneasiness you felt or embarrassment. As your eyes met his, recognition rushed through you.

Those golden eyes. Stern, solid and unrelenting. And yet… There was something else. Something you couldn’t quite decipher as your heart leaped into your throat.

“Recognise me?” He asked softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Should you lie? Should you be truthful? Which option would ensure you’d keep your job?

A soft laugh bubbled in his chest. Your gaze wavered, and you found solace in focusing on the cedarwood desk separating him from you. You decided on the latter.

“Y- Yes, my Lord. You’re the Viscount, my e- employer.” You stuttered out softly, wincing as you seemed to be doing everything but looking confident and calm. Surely, this was some cruel joke. You were sure you had dreamed up the events of last night after collapsing into your bed from exhaustion. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be real.

You allowed yourself to look up at him once more, and your chest tightened at his expression.

He seemed to be amused by all this.

“Let us not beat around the bush, and get straight to the point. I know what you saw, little one. But do you know what’ll happen to you now?” He questioned once more, challenging you to look away. He was relaxed and yet domineering, confident, his form leaning against the chair, his legs spread wide open. He was the one with all the power here, as much as you wished he wasn’t.

You took in a deep, shaky breath before replying.

“I’ll be removed from my position as House Maid immediately, my Lord.” Your voice was steady as you maintained eye contact, your breathing method calming you down.

He remained quiet, observing you like a hawk watching its next meal. His thumb caressed the plush softness of his bottom lip in slow, circular motions.

“If I may be dismissed, my Lord, I shall go and pack my belongings.” You tried again, before you paused. You broke Rule Number One. Do not speak unless spoken to. The Viscount betrayed none of his thoughts at your mishap, though he quirked a curious brow at you.

But what did it matter if you were about to lose your job anyway? And with that, you went against your better judgement once more.

“If I’m honest, though, you shouldn’t be so… Intimate with a strange woman at late hours of the night in your back garden, my Lord. At that point you are begging to be caught. So, technically speaking, it is not my fault,” You paused, pursing your lips, “If it were any other servant, the whole manor would know by now.”

Kriff. What were you thinking?

He gave a soft hum in response, his posture straightening up.

“You dare speak to your employer so… Callously?” He questioned, but you didn’t grace him with another smart-ass response. You had dug yourself a deep enough grave already, you might as well forget your headstone.

“To ease your confusion, I wasn’t aware that any servant would be working at such late hours of the night. I also own this manor, and do you know what the word ‘own’ means?” He questioned, quirking a brow at you, again. “It means it belongs to me, it means I can do as I please, with whomever I please, wherever I please. Does that aid you in your confusion?” He rounded his desk, his footsteps light and calculated right until his chest was inches from yours, his figure towering over you. Your breathing stopped completely, your eyes almost bulging out from their sockets as your heart raced faster than a horse. You had royally, majorly pissed him off, haven’t you?

Unexpectedly, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The crease between his brow eased up, and for once, the Viscount looked relaxed.

“I admire your confidence, little one. No one has ever spoken to me so… Plainly. Rudely, even. But I’d reign it in a little, for future reference. I’m not going to dispose of you, no.” He whispered, searching your eyes with his own, as if there was a lost treasure buried deep within the vibrant colours of your irises.

“You’re… Not?” You asked again, swallowing harshly. Clearly he wasn’t too bothered by your obvious disregard for the rules he imposed on the servants.

He shook his head, still smiling down at you.

“No. I’m instead promoting you. You’ll work as my personal servant, after all, I can’t have you be free to gossip about my nightly endeavours to anyone. Wouldn’t you agree, little one?” He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down.

Heat rushed over your face like a flame, burning and scalding until you were left as nothing but ashes. Why was he so relaxed? So calm? What was going on?

You blinked once, then twice, before remembering to breathe. His scent flooded your senses, until all that you could think of and feel was the Viscount himself. He smelled like a warm, wet spring day, of pine needles and steady streams of water. Was this man anything but perfect?

His fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your head upwards until he had your entire attention focused on him.

“What do you think?” He inquired again, dissatisfied with your lack of response.

You fought your way out of his touch, shaking your head.

“W- What?”

Tags: @actuallybarb <33

[pippytmi]

kacy au + a prompt from this list: "this is the first time I’m living on my own and my parents decided to spontaneously drop by in a few hours to see how I’m doing pls let me borrow some cleaning supplies and food so that my parents will believe I’m a functioning, responsible adult who totally cleans and doesn’t just have condiments and eggs in my fridge AU”

////////

“Hey! Hi, you’re—you're 8C, right?”

Kate nearly drops her bag at the sudden voice and its proximity, entirely unused to any kind of attention whatsoever. Embarrassingly, her first response is to reach for a gun that isn’t there, succeeding only in pulling out her keys as a makeshift weapon.

“Whoa,” the stranger before Kate says, raising both hands up. She looks vaguely familiar, dark eyes and curly hair and a short enough stature that Kate presumes she won’t be a real threat. “Is that a…key? No offense, but I don't think that would stab very well.” She squints up at Kate suddenly, almost like she’s trying to figure her out. “Please don't test that theory.”

Kate can only hurriedly lower said keys, feels her cheeks burn under the scrutiny. “Sorry,” she says. “I guess I’m a little jumpy.”

“It’s all good, I totally get it,” the stranger says cheerfully. “There’s not really a welcoming committee around these parts.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Kate asks slowly, cautiously on guard once more. She had first moved into this apartment two months ago, so it’s a little late for a welcome-to-the-neighborhood kind of thing.

“It could be,” the woman says, and she holds out her hand. “I’m Lucy. You might know me better as 12B, I’m the one always throwing empty bottles at the landlord’s head.”

Kate just stares back, accepting the handshake a beat later than socially acceptable. “I…didn’t know anyone did that, actually.”

“Oh it’s fine,” Lucy’s quick to reassure her. “He hasn’t found out it’s me.”

“Okay.” Kate is still very, very confused as to what Lucy of 12B (who throws water bottles at people) could possibly want. Or why she has decided to introduce herself in such a strange manner.

“Sorry to bug you," Lucy says, “but you’re kind of my last hope. I’ve been trying to find one friendly neighbor in this shithole, and so far, everyone has been shutting their doors in my face. You’re kind of on another level since you tried to shank me, but I am completely willing to forget that if you can let me borrow some stuff.”

“I didn’t try to…” Kate trails off as Lucy gazes up at her with such a hopeful expression that her resolve immediately weakens. “What kind of stuff?”

“Nothing major,” Lucy says. “Long story short, my parents decided to drop in on me, and I basically have nothing in my place. Any chance you can lend me some cleaning supplies? And maybe some groceries? I will one hundred percent pay you back. I just need them to think I’m an actual functioning human being.”

“I guess I can see what I have,” Kate says reluctantly, gripping her groceries a little tighter to her chest. “Come in, I’ll get you everything you need.”

This is probably a bad idea. Scratch that—it is definitely a bad idea, and Curtis will actually kill her for this, but Kate invites this literal stranger into her (government-assigned) home and leaves Lucy alone in order to briefly dash into her room and lock up the gun kept in the bottom of her purse.

Lucy, at the very least, stays firmly in the living room where Kate left her, though her eyes obviously wander around the room. “I like the color,” she says, gesturing to Kate’s couch. “Funky.”

Kate grimaces. “It was the only one they had,” she says of that neon-green monstrosity.

“Well, I think it’s really cool,” Lucy says. With Kate back, she seems emboldened, takes a turn about the room with a curious half-smile. “Your place seems smaller than mine. How much are you paying? Because if it’s the same as mine, I can totally get the landlord with a bottle for you.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kate says. “Um, I think I should have everything you need in the kitchen.” She ushers Lucy right over, gestures to the fridge and says, “You can pick whatever you want for food. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from under the sink.” Still on edge, she crouches down to retrieve everything while watching Lucy out of the corner of her eye.

If Lucy can feel Kate staring, she doesn’t show it; she happily accepts the invitation to rummage through the fridge, clanking of bottles and rustling of bags audible. Finally, Kate focuses on the task at hand, and packs the basics into a plastic bag: bleach, window cleaner, Lysol.

“Okay, this might be more unbelievable than having nothing in my house,” Lucy suddenly declares. “Do you have anything good to eat?”

Kate lifts her head. “What?”

“This is all health food and green juice, 8C,” Lucy says. Pauses. “Oh fuck. I never asked for your name.”

Honestly, Kate forgot she hadn’t, either. “It’s—”

“I really hope you’re not a serial killer,” Lucy continues, as if Kate isn’t even in the room and she is just musing aloud. “That probably should’ve been my first question. Can we start over? Here. 8C, are you a serial killer?”

Kate blinks. “No,” she says. “But I also don’t think serial killers would tell you if they were.”

“Fair enough,” Lucy says, and peculiarly enough, she doesn’t seem threatened at all by the possibility. Obviously she is not afraid to be in unfamiliar situations with unfamiliar people, and Kate wonders if she should rethink her assumption that Lucy is not a threat. “So what’s your name, then?”

“...Kate.”

“Kate,” Lucy repeats. “Hm. It’s not what I was expecting, but it fits.” With that information, she just turns around and…continues going through Kate’s fridge. “Are you single?”

Kate coughs. “W-what?”

“Single people always have those sad frozen meals, at least,” Lucy says. “I do too, normally, but I haven’t hit the grocery store in a while.” She opens the freezer and actually whoops at the sight of Marie Callender's finest. “Jackpot! I will take these off your hands.”

“And your parents will…be fine with that?” Kate decides that, overall, she is utterly confused by Lucy the neighbor from 12B. There's no other possible way to put it.

“Oh not at all, but it is what they expect,” Lucy says. “I’ll take some of your health foods too, I guess. Let them think I’m trying to stop bad habits.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear with a self-conscious laugh. “I mean, only if that’s fine with you.”

And something about that moment where Lucy becomes a little awkward—when she bashfully looks down at her feet, then looks back up at Kate from underneath her long eyelashes—it endears Kate completely. At the very least, it makes her relax, stomach twisting in itself in a tell-tale weakness for pretty girls in trouble. “Sure,” she says. “Do your parents like wine? You can take a bottle, I have a few.”

“I would never turn down wine,” Lucy says, brightening. “I don’t even care that I don’t have wine glasses. We can drink out of paper cups for all I care.”

Kate opens the liquor cabinet to make her selection: a nice red that had been a gift from her mother. (She’ll just have to email her later and say she loved it when her mother asks.) “I would offer to lend you some, but I also don’t have wine glasses,” she finds herself saying, then immediately regrets it, because Lucy obviously expects an explanation and all Kate seems to be able to do is make a fool out of herself today.

“Are you also a connoisseur of paper cups? Kate from 8C, I think we’re going to be friends,” Lucy says easily, and Kate’s lips twitch from the effort of biting back a smile.

“I actually like to drink wine out of mason jars,” Kate says. “I know it’s a little weird…”

Lucy has absolutely no qualms about smiling, and her smile lights up her whole face in a way Kate can’t look away from. “I think that’s cute,” she says, and Kate’s face burns so hot she knows that her status as this building’s number one gay disaster is 100% secured.

“Here,” Kate barely remembers to blurt out, handing off the wine bottle. “And let me get you a bag for the food too.”

After everything has been successfully squared away, Lucy is left with three large bags that will definitely require more than one trip. “Thank you,” she says. “Seriously. You’ve saved my life and I promise I will replace everything I’ve stolen today.”

“It’s no problem,” Kate says. “Do you need help taking it to your place?”

Lucy feigns a double-take, mouth falling open in an exaggerated gasp. “Already trying to invite yourself over? Wow, 8C. At least buy a girl dinner first.”

Kate’s mouth inevitably twists into that damned smile anyway. “Is that not what the frozen meals are? Technically, I did buy them.”

“Touché,” Lucy says, biting her lip. “You are…surprising.” She snags the smaller of the bags which contains the cleaning supplies, then swings it over her shoulder. “Alright, you can walk me home. But no funny business.”

“Okay,” Kate says with a laugh, taking the last two bags herself.

“But,” Lucy says as they walk outside, “you officially have a rain check.”

“For dinner?” Despite the circumstances of Kate’s arrival here—despite the looming undercover op that is about to consume her life—she feels light. Hopeful, even.

Lucy throws a wink over her shoulder. “For the funny business,” she says, all but skipping in the direction of her apartment.

Kate, meanwhile, freezes in place. Nevermind about Lucy being a threat to her life—she’s just going to be a threat to Kate's sanity.

(Which…may or may not be a bad thing. It’s to be determined, at any rate). 

[kozumesphone]

╭₊˚ BACKPACKING ACROSS GREECE . . . skye’s 200 followers event ! ⋆⭒˚.⋆

ꕀ intro post here !

ᝰ. TRAVEL GUIDE (masterlist) . . .

~ m.list

~ completed: 7 ~ remaining: 31

REQUESTS CLOSED ‼️

ᝰ. TRAVEL NOTES (a/n) . . .

hello?? what?! I only very recently finished my 50 followers event requests (procrastination struck SO hard), and was planning on doing the 100/150 event, but we already hit 200?? this is so so so amazing 💓 thank you all so much!! i’m eternally grateful for the unwavering support and for hyping me up, from my followers, moots, and especially my closer ibfs! i’m so excited for this event 🌸✨ even specifically, a huuuuge thanks to mori for lending me her intelligence to make a very major chunk of this event possible! thanks for brainstorming ideas w me, ilyyy 🫶 (+ spoilers: my favourite ones are volos, crete, and mykonos 🤭) • also, please comment if you don’t want to be tagged in further posts related to this event / want to be tagged from now on, I won’t mind! but pls lmk your decision soon, bc i’ll be using the same taglist as this post’s for every request related to this event! sorry for any inconvenience <3

ᝰ. ITINERARY (everyone) . . .

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 01. VOLOS ⠀ᰋ

i’ll make you a mini playlist based on the aesthetic of your favourite book/movie + your blog, together

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 02. ARGOS ⠀ᰋ

i’ll write you short headcannons of you on the argo II with the seven, nico, and reyna + give me any specific character you want to see mentioned specially

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 03. ACHARNES ⠀ᰋ

tell me about yourself / give me a short description about you, and i’ll assign you to a pjo cabin, hogwarts house, and hunger games district + make you a moodboard with it

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 04. PATRAS ⠀ᰋ

give me your favourite book/movie universe + favourite character, and i’ll make you a moodboard + mini playlist based on that

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 05. CRETE ⠀ᰋ

(different prompt list from thessaloniki) pick a prompt from here + give me a character name (from any book or anime, preferably, but I can try for movies too) and i’ll write a short oneshot for that character x reader (specify gender of reader please—f/m/gn)

∘₊✧ ────── ✧₊∘

ᝰ. VIP ITINERARY (only moots) . . .

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 01. MYKONOS ⠀ᰋ

tell me about yourself / give me a short description + what you think is your greatest strength, and i’ll tell you what I think your fatal flaw would be

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 02. ATHENS ⠀ᰋ

(only applies if we’re closer moots): give me your cabin from camp half-blood + your best friend from the riordanverse, and i’ll write a few headcannons for you, if you were in chb

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 03. THESSALONIKI ⠀ᰋ

(different prompt list from crete) pick a trope/prompt from here + give me a character name (from any book or anime, preferably, but I can try for movies too) and i’ll write a short oneshot for that character x reader (specify gender of reader please—f/m/gn)

ᝰ. SUPPLIES TO BACKPACK ACROSS THE CITY (rules) . . .

i. i’ll only be able to answer your request if i’m a part of that fandom, so I would suggest checking out my fandoms nav here first

ii. only one request per message

iii. only two requests per day

iv. normal requests (non-event ones) will be closed until event ends

v. please include title of the ask (ex. athens) and the character name & fandom (if applicable). if it’s a description request, send your desc in points (if applicable), so it’s easier to read, for me

ᝰ. TRIP DATES (dates) . . .

starts on | 24th july, wednesday

ends on | 14th august, wednesday

> EVENT OPEN !!

ᝰ. TRAVELLERS (mutuals—taglist) . . .

@serendipitous-girl @anyas-shitposting69 @ziasworld-com @urmomabby @sweetnnaivete

@fizzywashere87 @aezuria @gentlehue @mqstermindswift @percabethlvr

@maybxlle @cinemaconrad @riordanness @book-girl4evaaa @flowers-for-em

@starlitszn @skeelly @lauffey @metyouattherighttime @luvusrry

@ssparksflyy @fayvpor @iheartgirlzn @nomournersonefuneral

@over-the-oceancall @seaglass-and-string @strawberryapologist @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @pinkdiorluvr

@sophiesonlinediary @solangelotus @brodieland @waitingonher @nqds

@on-starrii-nights @daydream-of-a-wallflower @catastrxblues @rehlie @d4rkdi0rrr

@seasirengirl @lavisenri @daonedaonlyskh @rxry-lxves-jess @cowboycasanovaaa

@thewhispersofthewaves @writtcnbycassie @55kywalker @ravisinghs-wife @yourtwistedlies

kozumesphone © 2024 | don’t repost my works onto other platforms, or edit and post them even on tumblr, without asking me first • don’t steal my works, steal my heart instead • reblogs and comments are more than appreciated !

[yuri-is-online]

Hello author!! Congrats on 500 followers! I love the way you wrote "Plead the Fifth", Floyd's callback to the Portfest event was my favorite part. If its okay, can I pls request prompt 12 with Jade, Riddle, and Jamil? Thank you! 🫶💙

12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.

Bless you for catching that friend I was a bit worried no one would know what I was talking about. I thought it was so funny how offended they all got at being called adorable! other than Rook but yk

EDIT: I straight up did not realize I wrote this for Riddle twice oh my fucking god. I'm so sorry please feel free to message me with a separate request I am so sorry again my brain is fried.

notes: they/them used for Yuu. Severe violations of privacy and playing with emotions for Jade, and Jamil is fresh out of clown school, let us pray. I was listening to dancing with a stranger on loop while writing this so sorry if they're a bit angsty. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Jade

"Look." Jade is smiling and Azul has a tension headache. "You see how they've played this particular song fourteen times today? They're going to try and switch things up and listen to something else after the sixteenth loop but-"

"What in the hell does this have to do with anything?" Azul asks to be charitable, he already knows what this is about. Or he thinks he does anyway.

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to add it to the playlist for the Lounge. Just for tonight." There is a really strange tone to Jade's excitement, almost like he has no idea what he is doing and is just as thrilled by that as he was whatever brought him home in such a... state last night.

"Because if I don't you'll add it yourself and give Floyd back the password to the account?"

"I am so very glad we could reach a mutual understanding." Of course Jade has a plan, it had started formulating the instant he saw you dressed up for the formal Crowley had put together.

Boring. That's what this night was supposed to be. These masks were supposed to hide people's faces, sure but he knows them too well. Maybe if this was a different school where people were less predictable- But then there was you, and all his reason fell away.

"May I have this dance, stranger?" He is surprised you accept, delighted with how natural it feels to follow his lead. He was expecting this to be much, much harder.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask." You sound shy, flattered even, without the defensiveness he usually associates with the lead up to your trysts. Could it be- "I thought I felt someone watching me." -you do not know. The mask has worked for one lucky eel.

"Ah prefect," he greets you as usual, with a bow and a gesture to an empty seat "always so good to see you at the Mostro." This time he has selected a booth out of the way, towards the back and far too big for just one customer. Pity you hadn't brought those small fry with you, he was so looking forward to letting Floyd play with them. "Did you come here with something in mind? Or shall I make a suggestion?" You are so nervous you don't notice that he has failed to give you a menu until you finally bother to look up at him.

"I really just came here to talk..." how painful, you are looking away again. Jade is sure he is the best looking fish here, if you are that desperate to see him in the water he can certainly improvise.

"I am always willing to lend a sympathetic ear." He bends at the waist to hover his face just above yours, so close that you are force to return your eyes to his again. He watches as your pupils dilate and breath catches as the music in the lounge plucks a familiar song as if his magic lets him read minds.

"Go fuck yourself." It's missing the venom he'd like but as he traces your jawline with his gloved hand directly over the lipstick stains he'd left last night he thinks to himself that he is just fine with that. Jade is not in the mood to share your fire, it is such a rare thing for a mer to see after all.

"I would much prefer to leave that to you." He kisses you, quickly before you can fully ignite and waste your precious sparks on the public. "Funny story actually, I had such a nice time at the Masquerade last night I thought we should have ourselves another little date tonight. Do be gentle with me, I only had so much time to prepare." But waste or no he cannot deny himself the satisfied laugh that spills from him when you yank him back into a kiss and prevent him from running his mouth. Just what is he to do with you? Oh he has so many ideas...

Jamil

"Ha I thought I'd find you here." Jamil does his best to ignore Ace's voice, instead focusing on the hoop and sinking his throws into the net. Forty-One. "Aww not gonna ask any questions?" Forty-Two. "You know they talked to me. They always do." Forty-Three. "Said some reeeeeeal interesting stuff." Forty-Four. "Mushy too. Like seriously, you should both just get over yourselves and-"

Forty-Five. Jamil purposefully bounces the ball off the ground hard, not even bothering to watch Ace scramble to avoid it before shoves his face into his towel as if it can wipe away his embarrassment as well as his sweat.

"They are better off not knowing." He catches the ball Ace tries to hit him with, taking a little delight in how annoyed his junior looks before he realizes that it isn't going away as quickly as Ace's other pouts.

"Seriously? Where'd you get that idea from?" He sounds angry, Jamil has to remind himself and the seething pit in his stomach that Ace is Yuu's... friend. They are just friends who spend a lot of time alone. Alone together. Alone together inside a dormitory where Yuu live practically alone, a lot of times on nights when Jamil is alone in Scarabia with preparations for a party you aren't guaranteed to attend unlike those Unbirthday Party's Riddle has that you are at so much you might as well be part of his dorm.

Not that Jamil thinks about that a lot or is thinking about that at all when he gives Ace his best "superiority" complex smile.

"They were willing to make out with a stranger behind some thick curtains, clearly they don't have any strong feelings for anyone in the school and I would just be-"

"Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this situation in the fucking first place." This isn't normal jokey Ace. Normal "girls just wanna have fun Ace," no this is Ace as serious as Jamil wishes he always would be during... anything at all really. Funny how that side only ever seems to come out when he needs to distract someone. Funny how the pit is screaming how it only ever comes up when he is talking about you. "You get close to them one day, then you insist you can't talk to them because you are too busy taking care of Kalim. You give take advantage of them not being from Twisted Wonderland to give them things anyone would recognize as being romantic gifts but roll your eyes at the idea when confronted. Seriously it is a miracle they still like you and didn't think to try getting over you sooner."

Yuu is kissing him. They have what they can grasp of his face in their hands and are kissing him so painfully slowly. It's too much to bear, he can't keep to his senses and denial. Jamil pulls them further behind the curtains and kisses them. For one brief incandescent moment he allows himself to believe this is fated. That if the masks were gone, that if you were under the Scarabia curtains you would be holding onto his shirt just as tightly.

"You told them didn't you?" Ace doesn't bother to actually answer, the footsteps echoing down the hallway as he goes to leave answers Jamil’s question for him.

You are always beautiful.  His breath catches in his throat when he sees you, the pit swallowing itself as he realizes the urgency to the speed at which you close the gap but pause just before making it into his personal space.

“Can we talk?”  Ace’s words from earlier echo in his mind.  Has it ever occurred to you that you are responsible for this?

“Of course.”  He purposefully places the basketball back onto the rack he had been using as an excuse to center himself.  “Would you let me take you to dinner?”

“No.”  You sound as if you hate yourself for saying it, but the instant it leaves your lips he smiles.  “No, I need you to tell me here because I can’t stand this stupid game of you taking your insecurities out on me.  Just what do I need to do for you to understand…”  Your nerve seems to be failing you now that he’s right in front of you.  But he isn’t cruel enough to make you wait.

“I like you.”  It’s not all of what you want to hear, and not all of what he wants to say.  But he’s in a sweaty gym uniform and you look like you’ve been crying.  Apologies are best made with food, and he loves you well enough to know your worry’s been eating at your apatite as much as it has his.

[washy0uaway]

Kiss City Pt. 1

Series Masterlist | Part 2 here<3

A/N: Prefacing this by saying this is my first ever fic attempt that I'm very excited to share with this lil corner of the world :) This pairing was originally inspired by the song Kiss City by Blondshell (cause that shit is Frankie coded forreal - we'll get there, I promise). Pls be kind! Very open to feedback, etc. - I have no idea where this series will go, but my plan is to just have fun with it <;3 Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: You weren't expecting to sleep through your alarms the morning of a massive presentation you'd been prepping for your boss. You also weren't expecting to get rear-ended on your drive into the office. You definitely weren't planning on spilling your coffee all over your new blouse. But the thing you expected least on what you swore was a day set out to be cursed by the universe, was Frankie. Warnings: eventual 18+ / MDNI!!! car crash, fainting. -------------------------------------------------------------

“Shit,” you mustered under your breath as you dropped your keys, fumbling to lock your front door before leaving for work. It was barely past 9:00am and you could already tell it was going to be… a day. It had started by sleeping through your alarm, waking up frantically after quickly realizing you had to make yourself presentable and be out the door in less than twenty minutes.

You had spent the night prior awake much past your bedtime, spending hours finishing a massive presentation for the CEO of the marketing company you worked for. It was fairly unrewarding work, but it paid well. Your boss’s and coworkers were all around your age, fun, and easy to work with. The laidback attitude of the company lends itself to the idea of stopping for Starbucks on your way into the office - you could swing being another 5 minutes late. Really, you know you wouldn’t be able to fight the still present exhaustion without at least 3 shots of espresso in your system, stat.

After ordering your latte (with an extra shot of espresso), along with an Iced Tea for your office coordinator and self proclaimed “work bestie,” Liz, you peeled out of the drive thru and were on your way. That is, until you weren’t.

It happened quickly, as you were approaching a green light. The signal turned yellow, with your car not yet in the intersection, bordering the line of acceptable to just drive through it. “Getting pulled over would take longer than waiting at this stop light,” you thought to yourself as you quickly brought your car to a stop.

Before you knew it, your forehead was ricocheting off your steering wheel and the full latte you were actively sipping was now drenching your new, white top and burning your skin. It took you a moment to realize what had just happened, glancing in your rear view mirror trying to catch an initial glance at the asshole who had just rear-ended you. After rolling down your window, you motioned to the culprit with your arm that you would be pulling to the adjacent strip mall parking lot, praying they would have the decency to not speed off.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you whispered to yourself as you unbuckled your seatbelt, fuming at the circumstance and cursing the universe for reinforcing the fact that this really, was just not your day.

The pickup truck that trailed behind you luckily didn’t seem too damaged, leading you to hope your car wasn’t in worse shape. You swung your car door open and stepped out with a huff. “Seriously, dude? What the fuck?” you borderline yelled the direction of the pickup as you heard its driver follow suit in stepping out of their car.

You hear him before you see him, a low pitched voice saying, “Shit, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” as he quickly strides from behind the truck. If you hadn’t been enraged, you would have dropped your jaw at the sight of him.

He’s a tall, broad man, in faded black jeans and a dangerously fitted dark green tshirt. What seems to be a head of thick dark curls is hidden under a visibly well loved baseball cap, and the perfect amount of facial hair to match peppers his face. He has dark eyes you could swim in - they meet yours as he asks if you’re okay a second time.

“Who, me?” You retort sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m great. I really woke up this morning and thought it would be a good day to spend drenched in espresso in the FedEx parking lot.” He lets out a laugh to try and ease the tension and my god, does it work. “God, I’m so sorry,” the stranger continues with one hand in his pocket, the other tightly grasping the back of this neck. “My kid’s daycare was calling, I dropped the phone and apparently I'm the dumbass who thought he could reach it below the passenger seat. Took my eyes off the road for half a second, I swear.” The mention of his kid surprises you, and your hormone driven brain is curious after noticing he’s not wearing a ring.

“Well, dumbass, at least your truck doesn’t look too damaged.” His face drops as he glances over your shoulder, “Yeah, yours though..”

You hadn’t had a second to assess the damage, quickly whipping around to the wreckage. “No no no!” you exclaim as you rush closer to your very mangled car. He’s quickly hovering above as you’re crouching at your bumper, already asking if he can call you a tow truck or give you a ride. His glance wanders down to your freshly soaked crop top, and you take no notice of him blatantly checking you out. You don’t respond to his questions, instead letting a long sigh escape your mouth as you rest your face in your hands, now fully sitting on the ground.

“Seriously,” he says pointedly, regaining your attention. “This is my fault, let me take you wherever you were headed. I have a good buddy who owns a shop not far from here, I’ll give him a call and have ‘em send a tow out.” He’s now crouched down to your level, and you suddenly feel his intense gaze on you waiting for a response.

A long moment of silence passes before you finally give in. “Fine.” Turning your head his direction, he’s already standing back up and reaching out a hand to help you up.

As he pulls his phone from his back pocket to call the shop, you introduce yourself and offer him your name. He’s instantly looking up from his phone to see you shyly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and glancing toward the ground. When he holds out his hand to shake, your eyes meet again. His features are now much softer and more relaxed, and a kind but shy smile is slowly spreading across his face. You can see in his eyes that he has a big heart. One you wouldn’t mind getting to know better, at that.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but I’m not sure now’s a good time,” he jokes. You take his hand, much larger than yours, in a firm shake, both of you holding on just a moment longer than necessary.

“I’m Frankie.”

--

Frankie call his 'buddy' (Benny, you gather, after overhearing his conversation) and confirms they'll send a tow truck your way. "You owe me one, pendejo," he pleads into the phone. You call your office next to let them know you'll be even later than planned. After assuring you it's not necessary to stay and wait for the tow truck, he opens the passenger door of his truck and offers you his hand to help you inside. I could get used to that, you catch yourself thinking.

Once you're situated in the truck, Frankie enters your office's address into the GPS on his phone. As he puts the truck in reverse, his right arm has braced itself on your headrest. His eyes cross your face for a mere second before he's suddenly slamming on the brakes, jolting you in your seatbelt for the second time this morning.

"Jesus man, are you trying to kill me?!" "Shit, sorry it's just - are you sure you're okay? Your forehead..." His eyes narrow as he glances above your right eyebrow. Instantly, you're pulling the visor in front of you down and sliding the small mirror open. Lo and behold, you're sporting a swelling lump on your forehead that's already started to bruise. As if on cue, your head starts to pound. "Dammit," you sigh, gently touching your forehead "I guess I hit the steering wheel harder than I thought." "Yeah, no kidding. Can I take you somewhere to get checked out? Make sure you're okay?" "What, have someone tell me to ice it just so they can bill me god knows how much?" You turn to look at Frankie, and notice his eyes are trying to hide worry. "Thanks, but that's really not necessary." He hesitantly concedes and you're (finally) on your way to work. It's a fairly quiet drive. Frankie asks you about your job and hums along to the song playing through the stereo to fill the silence. Girl from the North Country by Bob Dylan, you recognize it almost instantly.

"You have good taste," you almost smirk and glance his way, causing him to wring the back of his neck again. Must be something he does when he's nervous, you note to yourself, picking up on his anxious demeanor as his free hand grips the wheel slightly tighter. "You like Dylan?" he asks, turning the volume up. "Of course. My dad raised me on him - that was my first concert, actually. I grew up in Michigan, and he'd always joke I'd be someone's 'Girl from the North Country' someday." You realize you're rambling and cut yourself off from digging a deeper hole of embarrassment, "Sorry... saying I 'like' Bob Dylan is an understatement." "Nothing to apologize for," he glances over at you with a shy smile, "except maybe comparing my taste in music to your Dad's." This makes you chuckle, and his eyes are still locked on you - you hardly notice his staring until the stoplight turns green and the car ahead of you speeds off. "Hey man, have we learned nothing this morning?" you look over to see him already focused on you, and can't fight the blush you're aware has to be creeping over your cheeks. "Stay with me, Frankie!" you exclaim as you snap your fingers in the direction of the road. "Gladly." he whispers, nearly inaudibly. A few seconds pass, and you're not convinced he'd said anything at all. The shyness and anxiety take hold as he pulls in front of your downtown office building. Before you can even register that you haven't exchanged phone numbers, insurance information, or even asked the name of the shop towing your car, you're opening the passenger door, tossing a quick "Thanks for the ride!" over your shoulder and hopping down from the truck. With a quick pace, you're walking to the front door when you hear Frankie call your name. "Y/n! Wait!" You notice first that his voice sounds distant - muffled, even. Next, you realize you've fully halted your jaunt inside. Your feet are no longer moving beneath you, and your vision starts to go blurry. "You left your..." Frankie's voice trails off as you lose consciousness entirely, and your knees buckle beneath you.

[bordysbae]

can u do 21 from the prompt list with turcs pls? thank you!!

“not really sorry”

alex turcotte x zegras!reader

21. “i didn’t mean to walk in on you changing!”

wc: 1.0k

this is kinda rushed but oh well

your older brother trevor has always told you his friends are off limits, and most of the time you never had any interest in his friends anyways. to you they were all annoying, sloppy, and overprotective, but that all changed when alex turcotte hit his growth spurt and gained the confidence to hit on girls. suddenly, you fell into the jealousy rabbit hole every time you saw him with another girl or heard him talking about one. and what sucked even more is that because you became good friends with all of trevor’s teammates, they all saw you as a younger sister. alex included.

you have always been a little bit closer with alex than the rest of trevor’s friends, but you’re pretty close with all of them. you’re also only one year older than jacks younger brother luke, so you two grew to become close as well. you told luke about your feelings for alex in confidence, and you knew he wouldn’t tell trevor. he always tried his best to help you, but eventually the both of you gave up when alex got a girlfriend. thankfully he broke up with her a few weeks ago, but you noticed he’s barely been going out like he used to.

because alex has been so absent lately, you had absolutely no idea that he was coming to hang out with the ‘group’ today. the group being trevor’s teammates, you, and luke. it’s a nice hot summer day, and you’re all spending the day at the hughes’ lake house. as you’re changing in luke’s bathroom, you’re removing your bra when suddenly the door opens. you gasp and cover your bare chest, as alex immediately shuts the door. “i’m so sorry! holy shit i’m so so sorry! i didn’t mean to walk in on you changing!” alex stutters through the door.

you feel your cheeks heat up but you also can’t help from laughing a little. “it’s alright turcs, i totally thought i locked the door. i’ll let you know when i’m done,” you chuckle awkwardly, and alex does the same. you hear him walk away down the hallway and you face palm. “no way that just happened,” you mutter to yourself. you look at your face in the mirror and realize how red your face is. little do you know alex is trying to make the pink on his cheeks lessen as well.

once everyone is changed into their swim suits, you all get on the boat. jim and some of the boys are fishing while others are jamming out to all different types of music. you and ellen are tanning, and luke comes and sits next to you. “hi luke, you’re done fishing?” you ask.

“yeah, there’s like barely any fish anyways. aren’t you hot?” luke asks you, pressing a finger to your slightly burnt shoulder.

“eh it’s fine, i need to tan,” you shrug. suddenly trevor, jack, and spencer come over to both you and ellen and start bothering you two. you notice alex standing awkwardly behind your brother, trying not to look at you. you brush it off, and as you’re about to speak out a sentence, trevor, jack, and luke pick you up by your limbs and start swinging you over the edge of the boat.

“don’t you dare!” you shriek, but it was too late. you’re flung over the edge of the boat, and crash into the cold lake water. you swim to the surface, and see all of the guys laughing, jim includeded. “oh i hate you guys! someone help me up!” you groan in annoyance, since you had no intentions of getting into the lake until later.

alex reaches over the boat, and lends out an arm for you, helping you up the ladder. he awkwardly mumbles something you can barely make out, but you catch it surprisingly. “can we talk later?” he asks, and you make the ‘mhm’ noise, and alex nods.

—

after a long day out on the boat, you all head out to the fire pit in the backyard. “oh shoot! i forgot s’mores stuff!” ellen complains. “oh i can get it!” you and alex say at the same time, you both look at each other and realize this is now a good time to ‘talk,’ so you both agree to go together. as you’re both walking into the house, alex speaks first. “i’m sorry about earlier, and i’m sorry if i made things awkward. but it kind of made me realize something,”

“and what’s that?”

“i like you more than a friend, i have for awhile honestly. but i always saw you as a younger sister, or well technically just trevor’s younger sister, but i forced myself to see you as a close friend because of trevor’s rules,” alex says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“what rules?” you question

“he told all of us you’re off limits,” alex explains.

“well that’s too bad, cause i have feelings for you too alex”

you didn’t realize that you and alex had been inching closer to each other as the tension grew, but now alex is inches away from your face. “oh really?” he chuckles, making the fluttering feeling in your stomach increase.

“yeah, but i guess i’m off limits huh?” you tease.

“well i don’t see trevor, do you?” alex says, looking around the empty kitchen.

“oh stop being such a tease and kiss me already,” you groan in annoyance. the tension between you both is now so thick you could cut it with a knife.

“i knew i liked them demanding,” alex jokes as he leans in to kiss your lips. you feel the world stop spinning as you and alex’s lips melt together, but suddenly the door opens and you hear luke gasp then start laughing.

“oh shit, that wasn’t something i thought i’d ever see! but hey it’s about time!” luke smirks. you and alex look like deers in headlights as luke stands in the doorway of the sliding glass door.

“luke please don’t tell trevor,” you plead. “oh don’t worry, my mom was just wondering what was taking so long. i’ll just tell her you guys can’t find the marshmallows,” he winks as he turns around and exits the house once again.

“just so you know, i’m not really sorry for seeing you change earlier. it wasn’t the worst sight i’ve seen before,” alex jokes, making your mouth fall agape.

“shut it you perve! go find the marshmallows,” you blush, playfully hitting his chest as you turn around towards the pantry.

[ohbo-ohno]

As the resident pet play expert, is there any big difference between puppy play and kitten play? (I guess it would be called that?) As in, your sub is a kitten instead of a puppy? And do you think Ghost would be interested in having both a puppy and a kitten? I think Johnny would enjoy feeling like a big dog playing rough with a Kitten!Reader

ok wait as funny as it is to call me the resident pet play expert, i do want to make it clear that 90% of my writing is really not a good introduction to kink lmao. pretty much nothing i write is consensual, which automatically makes it unhealthy kink. pls god set boundaries and safewords when fucking around with pet play in real life, i am begging you :')

anyways! oh man i am so glad you asked because there is a reason i prefer puppy play to kitten play, but it is entirely based on my own personal preference and perception of those kinks lmao

so at their base, puppy play and kitten play are essentially the same. they both fall into pet play and that idea of being treated like an animal. that inherently has some degradation (since the person is literally less than human), but to me it's very different types of degradation

for me, i prefer puppy play because it feels inherently more degrading in general, and i prefer that as a kink. a puppy is sweet, sure, but a puppy is something that has to be trained, that's often too energetic to be trained easily (lending itself to words like silly and stupid). a puppy is overeager and desperate to please and impress, a puppy is something that needs to be guided with a stern hand and shown who's in charge

kitten play always feels softer, more affectionate to me. a kitten is cute, something to be cradled in your palm, something soft and sweet. maybe they've got claws or small sharp teeth, but overall they're mostly harmless and something to be doted on, and any attempt at an attack is a joke. to me, kitten play lends itself more to praise and pillow princess. works great for some characters, but it's just not something i personally prefer to write!

anyways i've written both with ghoap x reader (in asks at least), but i personally prefer puppy play so i tend to lean away from kitten play. i will say - i'm not sure ghost would lean into pet play without soap there. as much as i can see him loving to dote on something sweet, i think he would need the roughness of puppy play to balance out all that softness

i'm mixed on whether or not johnny would like to have a kitten!reader. in my writing (aka noncon stuff)? sure! because he can ignore that she doesn't like the rougher play, doesn't like having a pup on top of her :/ but i think he'd have a harder time calming himself down in a consensual world lol

however, if you'd like to read some johnny x reader petplay: @/bunnyreaper's fic collars and cages is a great read that i've loved! i really love her characterization of johnny and tbh im super jealous of her grasp on him as a character :,)

[primrosechronicles]

Slice of Love: Young Couple's Kitchen Adventure

A Han Yujin x Reader:

Summary: Cutting vegetables with Yujin Warnings: OOC??? like a tiny bit of blood. Dni adults Yujin is a minor! Word count: 434

You and your boyfriend, Han Yujin, were spending a quiet afternoon at your home; Your mother was going to have some guests over so she tasked you with cutting some vegetables.

He walks next to you and grabs an apron, you pause.

“What’re you doing..?” you ask.

He furrowed his eyebrows “I’m.. grabbing an apron..?”

“Why?” “Because I want to help…?”

You smile, the idea of him helping you was incredibly heartwarming, almost like the two of you were a cute, mini-married couple playfully chopping veggies together.

You agree and set up a small workstation on the kitchen counter, placing a cutting board, knife, and a variety of colorful vegetables in front of you. Yujin stood beside you, ready to lend a hand. The two of you began chopping, chatting and laughing as you went along. It was moments like these that made your relationship special.

As you focused on slicing a particularly stubborn carrot, your hand slipped, and the knife nicked your finger. A sharp pain shot through your hand, and you immediately winced, dropping the knife with a clatter.

“FUCK!” you hissed, clutching your injured finger. A bead of blood welled up from the small cut.

Yujin's eyes widened with concern, "Are you okay? Let me see," he took your hand in his and examined the cut. His touch was surprisingly delicate, and it sent a warm shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but blush, even though you were in pain. Yujin was always so caring and attentive.

"It's not too deep, but we should clean it up and put a band-aid on it," he said, his voice soothing.

You nodded, feeling grateful for his quick thinking and concern. Yujin carefully cleaned the cut and applied a band-aid, making sure it was snug but not too tight. His fingers were surprisingly nimble, and you couldn't help but admire how well he was taking care of you.

Once the band-aid was in place, Yujin gave you a soft kiss on your injured finger. "There, all better. Just be more careful next time, okay?"

You nodded again, still a bit flustered by the whole situation. "Thank you, Yujin. You're always there to save the day."

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with warmth. "Of course, I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Now, let's finish cutting those vegetables together, but this time, we'll be extra careful."

You smiled, feeling incredibly lucky to have such a caring and considerate boyfriend like Han Yujin. With his support, even the simplest tasks became memorable moments in your relationship, and you cherished every one of them.

A/N: long time no see... I HAVENT POSTED A FIC IN LIKE.. 3-4 WEEKS SORRY! i have a fic for Miles in the works, its very long and my classes just started so pls be patient ty..

WOAH? KPOP FIC? SLAY? yes.. my friend introduced me to it! and i thought they were pretty and handsome so i decided to write about one of their members! (who is my age)