#romance writng

[sonyaheaneycategoryromance]

WHAT IS CATEGORY ROMANCE? AND WHY IS IT SO SATISFYING?

[natt-writes]

wound care prompts

Character A just got rescued from their captor who tortured them. They were taken to a hospital and heavily sedated to help ease the pain. Their s/o, character B is called by the hospital but not informed of much. They burst into the room and see A half awake in a hospital bed, their skin stained red with blood and bandages all over their body. They grab their hand gently and watch as A slowly looks up at them with much effort. “You-you came…” they struggle, tears in their eyes. B tightens their grip on As hand and tries not to break down crying. “Of course I came, I love you.”

character B is a slave to someone, and so is character A. Character A was sleeping in the basement, aka the slave room when they heard sobbing. They groggily walked over to the stairs and saw character B sitting at the top of the stairs, by the locked door, curled up into a ball. A sat down beside them and asked what was wrong. B explained that they had messed up an order and got punished. They shook a bit as they showed A their back, cut up and bleeding from a lash. A picks up Bs teary face and cups it in their hands, kissing it all over. They run their fingers through Bs hair in an effort to soothe them. Eventually B stops crying as loudly and starts to fall asleep, nestled tightly in As arms.

A got into a fight, despite B begging them not to. However they underestimated the strength of their opponent and got the literal shit kicked out of them. They came home mad and sore, trying not to let B see their wounds, or their teary eyes. B however, wanted to watch tv with them and while they were curled up together on the sofa saw all As wounds. They got a bit angry at A, obviously but then grabbed them by the hand and led them to the bathroom. They washed out their wounds and disinfected them, before wrapping them in bandages. They did all of this while lecturing A on why they shouldn’t be fighting and the consequences of their actions, which made A turn red from embarrassment.

[teenagechildtyphoon]

Let's see if we share anything

[elfboyeros]

Overcast Coastline

Read about the nerds and other nerds

“Klaus went missing on the 15th of March, Cobalt is murdered on the 23rd, 9 days later. Klaus was married to Greyson, Cobalt was a close friend, right? What if -just hear me out," Loki babbled on, as she and Amora sat on their bed talking about possible theories on Cobalt’s death, “Cobalt loved Greyson and wanted to be with him, but Klaus killed and went into hiding because he murdered someone?!”

“Cobalt?”  Amora asked the ghostly man sitting in her desk chair.

“Couldn’t have happened, I’m straight,” He replied, “I was also happily married to my lovely Primrose before death.”

Amora shook her head before looking back at Loki, “Straight, and happily married.”

“So, no love affair and no girlbossing wife,” Loki sighed, crossing off the theories of a list in a little notebook, “The last thing I got on my list is Ms. Thornton, could she have done it?”

“No!” Cobalt exclaimed, “Just as I loved Primrose, I loved Lilybeth just as much if not more! She would not have killed me; I refuse that notion!”

Amora shook her once more, “He wouldn’t believe it if it were true,” she replied, “Besides he’s seen Lilybeth, and he doesn’t have a bad vibe… he just gets sad.”

“I’ve died and my daughter has become a beautiful young lady, I’m sorry my depression is an inconvenience,” Cobalt sassed.

“I think we should stop for right now,” Amora sighed, “This is just getting us nowhere.”

Loki huffed, “Maybe we are looking in the wrong place?” she questioned, getting a confused look from Amora and even Cobalt, “We are trying to link Klaus with Cobalt, yet we know nothing about Klaus, maybe if we start looking into Klaus when can find out why he is missing which could lead to us finding out why Cobalt died.”

“So, we have to find Klaus,” Amora asked.

“Basically,” Loki answered making Amora groan into her pillow, “Or at least try to.”

“How are we supposed to do that?! We are students, moreover, we are seniors?! How the hell are we supposed to find an old man who has been missing for 15 years when we’ll have midterms in like 3 weeks!” Amora exclaimed sitting up before gesturing to Cobalt, “I’d rather be stuck with him! At least he’ll tell me if I’m failing my Trigonometry final!”

Cobalt shook his head before scoffing as Loki held in her laughter, clearing her throat, “Maybe you just need a little break for the ghost investigations,” the British girl posed, “Come with me into town tomorrow.”

“I thought you were going out with Lance,” Amora muttered.

Loki shrugged, “he said he wanted to hang out with Odis, and Luther said he was going to study with Iphigenie for their current events test, so I’m on my own tomorrow unless you come.”

Amora thought for a moment, spending 2 weeks on campus with Cobalt over her shoulder with no results in their little investigation seemed to put both of them on edge with each other. The thought was nice, being able to explore the town on Solostica would be nice too. The American girl looked to her ghostly companion who shrugged as if to say he didn’t care either way.

“I mean either way I’m going,” Loki remarked, holding a large strand of her hair, the green dye faded a good amount making it a sickly pale color, “I’m getting this hair dye!”

“I’ll go with you.”

Loki smiled, “Terrific!”

The next morning the two girls woke up after sleeping in, Cobalt did what he had been doing every morning, exiting the room to give them privacy, before they left. While walking down the paths leading to the exit of campus, Calliope passed by seeming running for her life.

“Calliope, everything okay?”

“Yeah,” She huffed, her cheerleading bag slamming into her side as she looked back at the two girls, “If anyone asked you didn’t see me!”

Loki and Amora looked at her confused as she ran to the main campus, she was already for cheerleading practice and yet she was running away from where they normally practice, the roommates looked at each other and shrugged before leaving campus, as Calliope ran through the halls of the large schoolhouse, slowing her pace as she reached the great music room were Odysseus, Lance, and Solomon resided inside. Solomon played the harp in the corner as Odysseus sat on one of the choir risers beside Lance, his light blue Guitar in his lap.

“Calliope, everything okay?” Lance asked, her panting at the door to the music room catching his attention.

Solomon stopped playing as all three of the boys waited for a response.

“I was the first one at practice today!” she huffed, “No one else was there. So, ha…. Huh… ha I left.”

“Calliope, if you want to quit the cheer team—” Solomon began because Calliope let out a laugh.

“And piss off Cassiopeia, not a chance!” Calliope replied, “I do that just by existing.”

“And skipping practice,” Odysseus commented, “Either way she is going to be pissed off at you.”

“The only reason she started the cheer team was to watch Roux practice football,” She huffed, “I don’t know why I had to be involved.”

She toddled over to Solomon’s place in the corner, dejectedly, “If it bothers you this bad, just quit,” Solomon remarked.

“If you quit, you can actually but in the campaign again!” Lance added with a smile, “I’ve missed Ruelle the cleric ever since the last time you played with us.”

Calliope smiled, “That’s a great idea.”

In the town center of Solostica’s city center with its cobblestone streets and its many small and hidden shops and convenience stores Loki and Amora stared at the many boxes, containers, tubes, jars, and pouches of hair on the shelf in front of them. All are color-coded and pleasing to the eye. Many brands Amora had never heard of before.

“I wish I had hair like yours,” Loki sighed.

“Mhm?” Amora hummed.

The British girl pointed to her roots, growing in a dark color of her roots where her green pieces used to be after tossing a boxed bleach in her little basket, “I need to get a bleach kit so the green will take on roots. If you dyed your hair any kind of fun colors, you wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh,” Amora replied, chuckling, “Bellamy dyed her once, it was purple. I remember asking my mom if I could dye my hair with her because she said it looked “so bad” and I remember it started a huge argument with my mom… she did not want me to dye my hair.”

Loki hummed, before pointing to all the boxes of hair dye, “Wanna give it a try?” she asked with a smirk painted across her lips, “’cause mummy isn’t here.”

Amora looked at all the hair dyes on the shelf, then back at Loki, who grinned down at her, “Alright! Let’s do it!” she replied, grabbing a random box off the shelf.

“Alright, but we don’t want to use that,” Loki replied, taking the box out of Amora’s hands and putting it back on the shelf, “If you want red, you should go with this one.”

Loki pulled a small box off the shelf with a simple pale green color and labeled named Deathly dyes, the color was called Lover’s Haze. Amora nodded as Loki looked at the green section before quickly grabbing a jar from the same brand but in a dark green color and walking toward the check-out counter.

They left the little convenience store before venturing around the town center some more, going into different little stores and shops not really buying anything but enjoying being off campus as well as each other's company.

Stopping by Vixen Café to grab a little something to eat, while also getting to see Iphigenie in action at work and Luther sitting outside working on a paper for one of his classes, aided by caffeine and chocolate croissant.

While stopped at an intersection, Amora stared at the beach which Loki noticed.

“You wanna go to the beach?” Loki asked.

Amora nodded and once the intersection was clear to cross, the two of them headed to the beach. Shoes were taken off and bags were dropped by the cement walk leading to the sands. Clean beige sand between their toes, with the smell of sea salt in the air and a light breeze.

Loki watched Amora from afar as she enjoyed the breeze and the salty air against her face. There is something so scenic about Amora, wearing a genuine smile as she heard the sounds of the ocean and waves crashing into the shore, enjoying the breeze as it moves her cardigan. Loki had never been fond of the beach, life events had turned memories of going to the beaches in England into reminiscences said rather not think about, however now staring at Amora the beach is no longer a place Loki wants to stay away from, rather a place she wants to stay if nothing above to keep seeing Amora smile a genuine smile.

But the skies won’t let wants become reality

“Amora we should get going!” Loki called, “It’s going to rain!”

Once at the back on campus, it was already drizzling, and when in the safety of their dorm room, pulling one of the girl's desk chairs into the bathroom, and sitting it in front of the sink and mirror.

“Is he around?” Loki asked, pulling out all the hair dye and other tools on the bathroom counter after bleaching the front pieces of her hair.

“No, he's probably still mad from yesterday,” Amora answered as she put on an old shirt the British girl gave her before hearing her scoff, “Or he’s just wandering.”

“Come sit,” Loki called as Amora made her way to the bathroom.

Amora entered the bathroom where Loki had some of her favorite music playing at a low volume, in an extremely old shirt covered in blotches of bleach and a pair of gym shorts, waiting for the young American girl a hand resting on the desk chair beside her and a foot resting against her calf.

“You wanna do the whole head or just a section?” Loki asked as Amora sat down.

“Uhm….I don’t know, what do you think?” Amora replied.

Loki hummed softly, “Let’s do your bangs, and your little front pieces, yeah?”

Amora nodded, as Loki opened the Lover’s Haze box and quickly read the instructions before plopping the dye into a mixing bowl, “Ready?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!”

Loki took the hair dye brush and began painting the pinkish dye on to Amora golden strains of hair, “Is Cobalt annoying at all?” the British teen asked.

“I mean sometimes, he makes math harder than it should be,” Amora answered, “Honestly he acts like my dad. Not like my dad, but he acts like a dad, which I know he is one, but we’ve only known each other for like a month he’s very fatherly, protective almost.”

Loki hummed curiously, “Like when I was in the library trying to figure out how to help him the talk I told you about everything, the Librarian—”

“Iphigiene’s weird ass mom?”

“Yes! He knocked over a stack of books to help me escape just to yell at me when I was safe!”

Loki chuckled, “And he’s an ass!” Amora groaned, “Telling me my math isn’t right when I do my homework but he won’t tell me what I’m doing wrong! And and and he makes little comments when I’m talking to people like his commentary is soooo important!”

“Oh! What does he say about me?” Loki asked, walking around her to get the other side of her hair.

“Chickadee, do you know, Loki stares at you often?”

“Have you realized that you are the only person she actively smiles at?”

“Loki seems fond of you.”

“Aw, she gave you her jumper because you were cold.”

“You too are quite cute together.”

Amora’s face flushed, remembering just a few of the many things that Cobalt had commented over the past two weeks, the all-around consuming feeling of simply enjoying being around Loki. The overwhelming feeling of a crush!

“H-he just make comments about... how helpful you are,” Amora answered, fumbling with her words before jumping at her phone ringing.

A single windchime emoji on the caller ID for a video call, answering Bellamy’s call with a smile and rosy cheeks, “Hey girly, what does Edgar like to play he hates the puff balls Jane likes to play with. I--” Amora could only see Bellamy’s light blue roots once she answered the call, before she looked at her phone wide-eyed, “WOAH! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME YOU WERE DYING YOUR HAIR?! And where did you get that shirt?”

Amora looked down at the shirt she was wearing to protect her skin from bright red hair dye,  a faded black T, and the graph for the band Oasis horribly faded. “It’s Loki’s, we’re doing this kind of spontaneity.”

“ ‘Ello Bellamy,” Loki commented, grabbing Amora’s bangs.

“Shit, she’s British!” Bellamy squealed, “Eee, your girlfriend is such a cutie, Amora!”

“Girlfriend?” Loki mused, “What have you been telling her, lovely?”

“Bella! She isn’t my girlfriend, she is my roommate!” Amora shrieked her face turning the same color as her hair dye.

“Roommate, girlfriend same different,” Bellamy shrugged.

“I like her already,” Loki muttered with a smirk.

“Amora what does Edgar like to play with?”

“Uhm… He likes the crinkly toys.”

“Got it got it,” Bellamy replied while throwing a couple of toys in her cart, “Is ther anything else I need to get for the boy, besides his special wet food?”

“I don’t think so,” Amora replied, “How are things back home?”

“Reese got kicked out of school,” Bellamy answered nonchalantly.

“WHAT!”

“Yeah,” Bellamy shrugged, “Mortemore had been shit-talking him since everything happened, Reese decided to punch him out in the hallway, and he got his ass expelled.”

 Loki clicked her tongue, “Serves him right,” she mumbled.

“I told Mortemore I would bake him a coffee cake,” Bellamy added, “As a thank you.”

“Oh, he’ll love that!” Amora replied with a small smile.

“All right, I only called to see what Edgar liked to play with,” Bellamy remarked, “I’ll text you later!”

“Bye Bellamy,” Amora replied, hanging up her phone.

Loki finally set the hairbrush in the sink, “You need to sit with it for 30 minutes.”

Amora nodded, getting up and leaving the bathroom, “What have you been telling Bellamy, for her to call me your girlfriend?” Loki chucked putting her head in the sink bowl.

Amora’s face became hotter, before covering her face, “I HAVEN’T TOLD HER ANYTHING!” She yelped, “I just told her that I had a grungecore roommate that was nicer then I thought, and I told her about hanging out with you during school!”

Loki hummed raising her head out of the sink, “You look cute when are all flustered,”  she remarked with a smirk before putting her head back in the sink.

Amora blushed even more before going to sit on her bed and wait for the time to wash her the dye out of her hair as Loki dyed her hair green. Once everything was all said and done, Amora stared at herself in the mirror her bangs and the large chunks of hair that she kept resting off her shoulders a nice pinky-red color.

“You like it?” Loki asked.

“Yeah!” Amora said with a smile, “Thanks Loki.”

“Anytime, lovely.”

Once cozy in her bed in the early morning Amora left a heavy weight on top of her, groggily waking up to the intense stare of Cobalt an odd and wicked grin, “I have a lead!”

[rainyyjade]

Didn't Know - IchiHime Short

Ichigo's POV

I would be lying if I said I knew when. I had no fucking clue. I didn’t know shit when it came to this. How to beat the shit out of an enemy? Got it. How to save the world? Got it. But this? I had no clue. No idea. No where to begin. What little I did know was that it didn't happen overnight. It began with unconsciously searching for her spiritual pressure and I only realized this when I noticed one day it was gone. I woke up that day wondering why something felt off. Something was missing. I rummaged through my crowded thoughts and found it. I couldn’t feel her spiritual pressure. If she had been harmed I would have noticed, even in the middle of the night, if I had felt her spiritual pressure in distress I would have felt that. She must be fine, I told myself. I ignored the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. But when that didn’t work I decided to leave my body for and see if I could find her as a soul reaper. As soon as I ditched my body I could feel the small vibration of her spiritual pressure. Ah, there you are. I sighed. She was fine. Why was I so worried? I may have overreacted a bit. I jumped back into my body and went on with my day. I didn’t think too much of it but then every time after that day all I did was search for her familiar spiritual pressure. It wasn’t unconscious anymore. It was deliberate. I woke up and went to bed making sure I could feel her. It seemed like a normal thing to do but when there were times that I couldn’t find her, I was annoyed, no I was anxious. Yes, anxiety began to follow me wondering if she was okay when she would be further away than normal. I began to just live this way, at least until one day it just wasn’t enough. I wanted to see her. This too was also not a conscious move by me. When I would walk through town I began to wonder what she was up to. Instead of taking the short way home, I would start walking towards her job, apartment, shopping store, wherever I could feel her spiritual pressure, I would go. I was drawn to it. Of course I would run into her, I had become like one of those sniffing dogs, tracking her.

“Hi, Ichigo!” Her voice cut through the noise every time. Whenever I saw her smile I couldn’t help but greet her with my own. I rarely smiled, I knew this. But when I was with her it was easy. I would walk her home and she would hand me bread. I would never admit how much I loved the bread. It became a routine at one point. I would find her and walk her home. And when that wasn’t enough I began inviting her over to my family’s house. Being around her made me happy. That was the simplest way I could put it. 

So no, I don't know when it happened. I just know that one day when Renji looked me dead in the eyes and said I can’t keep her waiting, it hit me. It hit me like a fucking kick to my stomach. It’s like all the pieces started to fit together. I wanted her with me, all the time. I wanted what Renji and Rukia had. I stood there flustered and spat out “I know!” But I hadn’t really known until that moment that all along I was in love with Orihime Inoue. For how long? I couldn’t tell you because maybe this feeling had always been there. Maybe I couldn’t feel it because of all the shit I was always facing. I think subconsciously a part of me always knew but my mind just had to catch up.

[quinnyyyleft]

Be me, trying to explain a problem I'm having whilst writing a contemporary romance, because I've never written something without magic, or dragons, or swords in my entire life.

Enter, my Husband, trying to convince me to make the Love Interest the one who killed the Main Character's parents...

[jaiyemourningstar91]

{Excerpt Begins}

"And to think all I ever wanted was to be part of you. Part of your world. Your time. The days, the weeks, the months...years. I desired so heavily to be among your waking thoughts. To have a place, not all of it, but a proportionately fair position in your heart. Because I believed we were in love. Your words! Not mine. Not at first.

I went out there into the heart of darkness to undo the burdens, the ill omens I mistakingly helped cast across this land, for you. To rescue your home, so that we could cherish it together. Nurture it together, and here I've returned to spit in my face? I-Inunderstand I reaped a great toll for what followed me here. I've more than paid for my sins.

But to return to you, like this. Bedding with the same evil that rot these lands to begin with? Well, I've never, I've never would have imagined. I'm gutted, for lack there better terms. You've ripped my heart out!"

The now elven lover winces in delight. Eyes full and black as the darkest of underworldly pits. The distraught knight can't see even the tiniest spec of light in them. Only the same vicious villainy he sought so desperately to destroy. And as he stood there, staring into the voids of unholy demonic madness, an even darker thought, a truth, develops in his mind. She is in fact possessed.

The combination of anger and heartbreak leaves his face. His eyes no longer leaking tears. Now he looks ashamed. Eyes furrowed, body quivering underneath the pressure of self-justified knowledge.

"This, this is my fault. Great Divine...What have I done, now?"

The knight's knees buckle. He releases his sword and his shield. Surrendering himself to the ground with his head sunk low. His vision muddled once again in his life with remorseful tears. All this feels like it's happening in slow motion to him the warped wicked laughter of his former lover courses through his ears. What else is there left to do but blame on self in times like these? It makes perfect sense. He abandoned her all this time while the lands were still effected by the treacherous wickedness.

The Blight had the Green Valley churning with insanity as raced off to be it's savior, only entrusting that his love would be safe, hidden in their home. A place she could have possibly remained hidden if he had never crossed her path to begin with, he believes. For the great evil held personal vendetta against him. He knew this. And now suffers the price for it.

"The ultimate price!" The possessed elf screeches. "A victory at the cost of a loved one! Isn't it painful!? Isn't it just deliciously agonizing?!" She teases, then laughs more.

Every cackle, every round of delight stings like venom for the knight. He's helpless to her speeding. She's correct. It hurts. A pain almost as traumatizing as when he lost his mother. In fact, the more it rattles him, he realizes it is identical. An audible groan comes from the defeated man before he collapsed backwards to the creaking wooden floor. His armor making a loud thud. Loud enough to make the demon stop it's laughter, hearing it above its self indulgence.

"How pathetic! The brace knight beside himself? Not surprised! Wait! Is this, is this what you did when you found out your mother died while you were on the battlefield?!" The fiend questions already knowing the answer. "Oh my! I get to witness it first hand now! Such a treat!"

The demon drools at the image before her. The knight motionless. Sprawled out with tears in his eyes. Defenceless. But what could be going through his mind, the monster wonders. It stalks up on the knight with curious blight and a sinister grin. Just hovering close enough, suspended in the air as it has been this entire time, to see the knights bloody miserable face.

The knight can feel the presence has grown closer. He will not treat it as his lover any longer. Only another vile creation of the Blight. Even still, he doesn't move to fight it. Too lost in his despair. However, he does finally address it once he feels it's eyes lingering on his mess of a mug.

"You wish to know that badly, hag. Fine. I'll tell you. But I desire something in return."

The knight has enticed the demon. It's eyes glisten in the fire lit room, and for the first time a glint of light breeches those putrid black holes in its skull.

"The brave knight wishes to bargain?" It moans, swooned by the simple proposal. "Very well, what is it you want in return?"

The knight is looking right at the hag, as he called it. Right in the eyes.

"Is she completely lost?" He questions with angst. "Answer this, and then I'll tell you what you wish to know."

The demons hisses out of anger. "You ask your request before the bargain had been made and then try to flip things around? You seek me a fool? I wanted to know my question first!" The demon lashes out, almost childlike.

This tells a great deal to the knight. The mannerisms it just displayed. Kicking and screaming about as it responded, midair. Throwing a tantrum like an unruly child. This demon that has taken over his lost love, is no matured one. His heart jumpstarts on the next beat. Perhaps there is hope yet. For an infantile hellspawn could not posses the power to fully posses someone on its own.

The knight's heavy armor scraps the floor as he sits up. His eyes not leaving the festering monstrosity. Now that he has more composure about him, he notices the infection of her possession only lies in the face and hasn't spread anywhere else on her heavenly body. The creature stares back at him perturbed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?! Stop it!" It demands.

The knight chuckles and stands up on his feet. With the demon hovering, he still stands at eye to eye with it.

"She's in there. Isn't she? Still. Fighting back." The knight says, peering into the demon's eyes.

"Get away!" Another demand, but the demonic infiltrater backs away. Retreating to a corner in the kitchen.

The knight once again dispells some delight as he approaches further. Disobeying the demands of the child-like evil.

"Not until you leave her vessel! You have no place here demon!" The knight barks back finally with a demand of his own. "I've slayed the one who sought after this valley, leaving you just a straggler! So, it be in your best interest to leave while you still can."

The beast flinches and it's eyes change briefly. The blackness evaporates for mere seconds before returning back in full.

"N-No! I said get away! You haven't won here petty knight! We-" the creature pauses and it's eyes change again. "Help me!"

The knight seizes with emotion hearing his lovers true voice for a moment. She's still present. And she needs him. This imbues the knight with great purpose. He grabs her body, dragging her from the air and bringing her to the ground.

"Karina! I'm here! Keep fighting!" He instructs her desperately and with haste.

The demon quickly takes back over the consciousness and scratches at the knight's face. Blood dribbles across the floor before them. The demon's hand, Karina's own, now wet with his blood. Wincing, the knight jumps back. Shuffling over a few feet, he grabs his blade. However, he is unsure in the time what he will do with it. While sizing up the demon, he realizes the body is still his lover, he knows he cannot harm the demon without harming her. He looks at his sword disappointed. It's useless. He'll need something he doesn't have in his arsenal.

"Heh, what's wrong knight? You were just ready to slay me, weren't you? Why have you yelided so fast? Hm?! Accepted her fate!" The creature spoke rapidly spit it's words at the knight.

The blitz of questions goes unanswered. The knight is at a loss for words. Although he knows how to recognize certain demons, he hasn't really dealt with one possessing someone before. Usually, their already too far gone. But now here he is. Facing one with his love on the line. With a sudden thud and the demon's dismay, the sword sinks into the hardwood at the knight's feet. He looks over to Karina's vessel.

"I'm sorry Karina," he addresses her directly, "I-I'm not sure how to free you. Not without harming you at least." The knight explains why he's surrendered his blade to the ground...

{End Excerpt}

[longdariavampysilver]

■ 21 ■

When Charlie asked Demetrius what was going on, he couldn’t imagine what was happening in the pub.He had turned up the volume so we could hear better.Demetrius’s voice was shaking, and at times he was so breathless that he had difficulty speaking.Fortunately, he had called Flerct before saying: “Hey, come here, something’s happening!” and his friend came as quickly as he could, but even on the…

[creative-bananas]

CRESCENDO

The sound of my pounding heart

I knew that this is the start

Of this fun, mysterious love

That I know you also have

WRITTEN BY: GRACIOUSLY PEACH

[tteokdoroki]

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less. 

you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu. 

he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard. 

he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend. 

okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.

you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.

there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him. 

you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust. 

rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day. 

much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her. 

they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.

rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.

his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned. 

things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.

then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl. 

maki zenin.

you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.

it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.

your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call. 

yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul. 

but you were never strong when it came to him. 

and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.

voicemail #1  - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”

this isn’t like him. 

even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood. 

you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.

but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call. 

to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord. 

panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.

even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?” 

you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to. 

you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.

when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you. 

but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him. 

voicemail #2  - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.” 

oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together  and just…take in the quiet. 

be close to one another.

so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.

it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’ 

maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care. 

you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years. 

the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.

he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.

“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”

you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“

“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace. 

the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.” 

okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.��� 

“yeah?” 

“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“ 

your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real. 

confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood. 

“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.

“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.

“really? you don’t look like it.” 

running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.” 

“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.” 

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back. 

the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten. 

voicemail #3 -  “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”

yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect. 

you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.

its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.

“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“ 

you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.

“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”

without you.

you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.” 

your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”

the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat. 

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.” 

“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.” 

you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep. 

ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest. 

“i love you too.”

voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”

for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy. 

but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart. 

even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.

he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.

okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name

“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”

“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”

the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.” 

he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone. 

you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold. 

but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.

“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“

“and?” 

“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”

hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice. 

through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.

his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up. 

“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness. 

he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.” 

he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”

there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.

voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”

there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.

with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.

your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.

as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.

and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.

he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.

“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”

voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!” 

( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )

yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left. 

he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.

and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.

it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.

was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages  the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.

yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.

yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.

yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.

yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.

you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.

“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.

you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.

“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”

“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”

“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden���y-you’re different!”

you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”

he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!” 

“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“ 

“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?” 

“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!” 

the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening. 

“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”

your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”

yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.

before you can hear him say that he loves you too.

voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.” 

the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.

after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend. 

gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.

sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you. 

so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person. 

it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.

and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.

tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot. 

his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.

yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.

he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.

your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.

you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth. 

his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.

“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!”  the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.

“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit. 

he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour  like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”

yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets. 

“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.

every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm. 

“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”

blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…” 

his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist. 

your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free. 

“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.” 

you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck. 

that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“ 

“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine. 

“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”

all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss. 

“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.

“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.

you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length. 

yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit. 

“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.” 

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together. 

the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just  kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.” 

“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.”  you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.

yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!” 

you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine  and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all. 

“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.” 

“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[aroacewolfic]

if im aroace but reading and writng romance books and fanfiction and listening to songs about romance, love and sex it doesn't make me any less aroace or aromantic or asexual so anyone who thinks that can fuck off

[elfboyeros]

Snooze

Read about the nerds and other nerds

“Amora, how are you feeling?” Cobalt asked, softly from his on the floor at the end of Amora’s bed.

“Cobalt, shut up,” Amora mumbled, “you’re too loud.”

“Really you bastard?” Loki sighed, tightening her hold on Amora’s waist, “You do realize you are the reason this shit happened, leave her alone.”

They lay up in her bed, Loki’s arms around Amora’s middle and Amora‘s face hidden in Loki’s chest attempting to block out even light and sound, “Do you need anything, love, water, a snack?”

“I just wanna sleep,” Amora muttered.

“Okay, love, I’ll keep quiet,” Loki replied.

“You don’t have to stay…”

“No, I’m staying,” Loki added. “It’s a holiday, anyway, so I would be staying in bed anyway, and here I get to lay here with you.”

Amora giggled lightly, “I could leave if you want me to.”

Amora wrapped her arms around Loki’s middle, “I’ll take that as a no,” Loki cooed.

“You’re the only person I want around me, right now,” Amora muttered as Loki brushed her pink strands out of her face, “I don’t think I could deal with this alone. I would probably just lose it.”

Loki hummed, “Good thing I’m here then, mhm?” Amora nodded, snuggling into Loki’s chest, “I wonder what everyone else is doing today…”

Amora let out a little laugh, “What?” Loki asked.

“It’s not like you to think about other people,” Amora remarked.

Loki scoffed smiling, brushing her fingers through Amroa’s golden locks, “Maybe I’m changing.”

“Please don’t change.”

“Even for the better?”

“I like you the way you are,” Amora admitted.

Loki’s face instantly became hot before she buried her bright red face in Amora’s hair, “…Noted…”

On Hall Magnus currant colored sneakered stomped across the hardwood floor, marching to her room, Cassiopeia wasn’t angry per se she was just upset.

“It’s always Calliope missing practice,” she scoffed to herself before entering their shared room, “Calliope! What the hell!”

The blonde girl in a cyan sweater dress jumped as she sat with her double bass, “Why were you not at practice!?” Cassiopeia complained dropping her duffle bag full of her cheer stuff forcefully on to the floor.

“I didn’t feel good,” Calliope answered cowardly.

“But you feel well enough to play your bass?”

Calliope let out an anxious squeak as Cassiopeia sat down at the end of her bed, “Cal, be honest with me,” the blonde cheerleader in red workout clothes said softly, “do you like being on the cheer team?”

There were a few moments of silence as the twins stared at one another, “No,” Calliope sheepishly responded, “I hate it, actually… I’ve hated it the whole time.”

“Seriously?! Calliope, why didn’t you tell me?!”

Calliope put her hands up in defense of herself, “Cas, talking to you is hard, especially when you’re mad, which is like all the time. I feel like I can’t talk to you about how I feel most of the time. Plus, you love cheer, you love the cheer team, I didn’t want to tell you I hated it and not only make you mad but I didn’t want to destroy your vision of the cheer team since you created it with Ms. Thornton.”

“Calliope—”

“I’m sorry, I know it’s our last year and I should tough it out, but I can’t do it anymore,” Calliope added, “I wanna hang with my friends, play my double bass, and not have to worry about if the other girls on the team are going to make fun of the way my body looks when we are changing.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassiopeia sighed, dejectedly, “I thought you wanted to cheer.”

“I mean when you came to me first and went on and on about it,” Calliope let out a little laugh, “It sounded amazing, but now it’s not fun anymore.”

“I’ll tell Euphrasie, and we can gather all your cheer stuff, you don’t have to do it anymore,” Cassiopeia replied, getting up and stretching.

“You're not mad?” Calliope asked.

“I’m not happy about it,” Cassiopeia said truthfully, “But I’m not going to force you to continue to be a cheerleader if you don’t want to.”

Calliope smiled at her sister before Cassiopeia added, “I mean it's better for you to quit now instead of not coming to practice for the rest of the year.”

Calliope laughed awkwardly as Cassiopeia headed for the door, “Where are you going?” Calliope asked.

“I think… I’ll go for a run or something, maybe I’ll go shopping,” Cassiopeia answered before leaving their room, taking Calliope’s cheer bag with her.

Leaving Hall Magnus and the dorms, spotting Euphrasie with their sports bag on their shoulder, practice clothes clinging to their bodies, and speaking to one of their tennis teammates in the academy courtyard.

“Hey, Euphrasie!” Cassiopeia called, grabbing their attention.

“I’ll meet you there, Auretta,” Euphrasie muttered before turning to Cassiopeia looking at the blonde cheerleader with a large smile, “Hi Cassiopeia, what do you need?”

“Calliope has finally quit the cheer team.”

“Oh, dang,” Euphrasie sighed, “It’s for the best though, she hasn’t been enjoying it.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cassiopeia remarked rolling her eyes, “Anyway, can you drop off Calliope’s cheer bag to Ms. Thornton?”

“I can, but I have tennis practice, so I’ll do it later,” Euphrasie answered, their hand out to receive the duffle bag on Cassiopeia's shoulders.

Cassiopeia sighed, “Is Ms. Thornton still on campus?”

Euphrasie shrugged, “I think so, I don’t kn—” they answered before Cassiopeia began to run off, “Hey where are you going?!”

“To see if Ms. Thornton is here!” Cassiopeia called back, “HAVE FUN AT TENNIS PRACTICE! TELL AURETTA I LIKED HER SNEAKERS!”

Cassiopeia raced herself up to Lilybeth’s classroom, finding her there at her desk going through some papers. At the same time, Mrs. Danielson stood in front of a desk, oddly enough smiling,  while having an “intense” conversation with a man, covered in tattoos, that Cassiopeia didn’t recognize sitting on top of the desk.

“Ms. Thornton…”

“Cassiopeia,” Lilybeth remarked, looking up at her classroom door, “What do you need?”

“Hello, Ms. Ivory,” Helvetica remarked.

“Hi,” Cassiopeia muttered giving the Literature teacher a shy wave, “Ms. Thorton here is Calliope’s cheer bag.”

“Oh?” Lilybeth questioned as Cassiopeia and over the duffle bag, “Did she quit?”

“Yeah,” Cassiopeia sighed, pouting.

“Oh, chickadee, it will be fine,” Lilybeth commented. “You still have all the others; it won’t affect anything. Don’t look so down.”

“I just… feel horrible, I forced Calliope to do something she never wanted to do for so long, and she couldn’t talk to me, and I feel like Calliope hates like ever—”

Lilybeth placed a hand on Cassiopeia's shoulder, sympathetically saying, “Cassiopeia, chickie, Calliope doesn’t hate you. She probably just wanted to see you happy because Cheer made you happy. Calliope is your sister, and she loves you. I doubt she could ever hate you.”

0Cassiopeia smiled slightly, “Thank you, Ms. Thornton.”

“Bethie, you coming?” That unfamiliar man called, leading Helvetica out of Lilybeth's classroom.

“Yeah, Ambrose,” Lilybeth remarked, grabbing her purse, “You okay Cassiopeia?”

Cassiopeia nodded following Lilybeth out of her classroom, “Have a nice rest of your day off, Cassie,” Lilybeth commented, following after her two friends leaving the young cheerleader still dejected in the hallway.

As she headed for the schoolhouse’s door, the romantic pings of her cell phone pulled her attention. Message notifications littered the notification bar on her lock screen, all from Roux.

Roux ⚽: I’m almost done at my mom’s

If you’re not busy maybe we could meet at Vixen’s and spend the afternoon in town

Make a little date out of it

Cassiopeia thought for a moment before responding: Sure.

Taking a ride into town, stopping in the little café that was a staple in Solostica. With its large modern windows and light sage building at the corner of a small intersection. Cream walls cover the interior, with a classic coffee shop vibe with an added botanical touch given the many potted plants all over the place and a large bush of different flowers over the bar. Cassiopeia plopped herself next to a table in a far corner of the shop next to a window, beginning to people-watch rather than get in the sizable line at the busy bar.

Odysseus and Lance sat at a nearby table across from Cassiopeia. It was obvious they had been there for a while. From what little Cassiopeia knew about the two boys they often played Dungeons and Dragons with their friends at the Vixen Café, maybe that’s what they were talking about on their little coffee date.

She spotted Iphigenie at the bar, in her work apron with her hair pulled back as she placed pastries in the dessert case. Iphigenie’s hair was tied up as neatly as it could be given its thickness and curls, so beautiful and graceful as she worked in the chaos of being a barista.

Cassiopeia shook her head choosing to look out the window for what felt like hours rather than stare at Iphigenie anymore. Instead of storming out of her dorm room, she should have grabbed her journal or even her purse, instead of only having her phone to play with, the people around her to observe, and a window to look out of.

“Here you go.”

Cassiopeia jumped at the sound of Iphigenie’s voice next to her, snapping her out of her daydreaming as she stared out the window. A drink now sat on her table, leaving her to look up at the ginger girl confused.

“I didn’t—”

“Odysseus paid for it,” Iphigenie commented, pointing back at the boy in the mask who gave the blonde cheerleader a wave, before turning back to Lance engaging in conversation with him, “It's a Mango frappe, you’ve ordered it before.”

“Thanks,” Cassiopeia muttered, her cheeks flushed.

“Enjoy,” Iphigenie remarked before beginning to walk away.

“Iphigenie!” Cassiopeia called, making the barista pause and turning back, “Can we talk for a quick second?”

Iphigenie shrugged, “I’ve already clocked out, why not,” she mentioned before sitting across from Cassiopeia, “What are we talking about?”

“Do you remember when we were kids?”

Iphigenie cracked a slight smile before nodding, “You, Calliope, and I would play all the time. Dad said we were the 3 musketeers.”

“Do you ever miss that time?”

“Being a kid and not having problems, yeah. That time of my life no,” Iphigenie answered, watching Cassiopeia frown at her response, “Cassiopeia, my parents going through a divorce.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Cassiopeia sighed.

“Why are you apologizing?” Iphigenie asked, letting out a little laugh and making Cassiopeia become hot.

“Do you remember why we stopped being friends?” the blonde girl innocently asked.

“Well I moved to Switzerland,” Iphigiene shrugged before thinking for a moment, “I thought you were mad that I moved, we just stopped talking, I took that as a sign that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“No!” Cassiopeia chirped, “I-I-I just was a stupid kid! I would write you letters… I guess momma and papa never sent them, so when you stopped sending yours…”

“Classic,” Iphigiene chuckled. “When I came back last year I was shocked to see you and Roux together, I never thought you liked him.”

“I don’t think… I do,” Cassiopeia mumbled.

“Then why are you with him?”

Cassiopeia stared off into space for a moment. She’d been with Roux since starting at Hallows Academy after knowing him her entire childhood, but she never felt as if she loved him. As if it was an obligation to be his girlfriend after so long. She enjoyed his company and his kindness; however, days continued to pass, and Cassiopeia’s feelings for Roux hadn’t changed.

“Cas, you okay?”

“I need to break up with Roux,” she muttered.

Iphigenie blinked, “You came to that conclusion rather quickly.”

“I mean what am I supposed to do?” Cassiopeia remarked, “I don’t like him enough to be in a relationship with him, right?”

Iphigenie hummed in agreement, “Genie, would you want to go out sometime?” Cassiopeia asked with rosy cheeks. “Hang out like when we were kids,” she added.

“Hang out like we were kids? So play with dolls and annoy your older sister,” Iphigenie joked.

“I was thinking more like going to see a movie or just talking,” Cassiopeia giggled.

“Would be nice,” Iphigenie remarked.

“Iphigenie, I’m sorry I’m late!” Luther’s deep voice bellowed, “Loki wanted me to get some stuff for Amora—”

“Is she okay?” Iphigenie asked.

Luther shrugged, “Loki isn’t really saying.”

“Something is wrong with Amora?” Cassiopeia asked, rather compassionately.

“She fainted yesterday,” Iphigenie answered.

“I think she’s just dehydrated,” Luther muttered.

 Iphigenie got up, ready to leave with Luther, “We’ll stop by Loki’s room, then go to study hall, yeah?” he asked her.

“That’s fine with me.”

“Genie?”

“Yeah, Cas?” Iphigenie asked, looking at the cheerleader sincerely.

Cassiopeia paused with her cheeks all flushed, “Do you want to…” Cassiopeia trailed off

He could feel an energy between Iphigenie and Luther. It is so obvious just looking at Luther’s gaze, a guy who has always been known for a stern gaze behind a pair of circular glasses and fought with Roux on many occasions yet looks at Iphigenie, the most melancholic girl alive, with such soft eyes.

“… Never mind,” Cassiopeia awkwardly chuckled, “I hope we can be friends again.”

“Me too, Cas,” Iphigenie remarked with a smile, “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya,” Cassiopeia muttered, as Luther and Iphigenie headed for the door.

“Is it a good idea for you to become friends with Cassiopeia?” Luther asked opening the door to the café inadvertently letting Roux in.

“Oh come,” Iphigenie commented, “Cassiopeia is fine. She’s sweet.”

“Hey baby,” Roux cooed, kissing Cassiopeia’s cheek before sitting across from her, “I thought we could go to the shop on Elizabeth Street and—”

“Roux… We need to talk!”

“About what, baby?”

“I think…” Cassiopeia began rubbing her hands on top of her thighs, while also trying to make herself smaller. “I think we should break up.”

“What did I do wrong?” Roux asked.

She put her hands up, waving them in an X motion, “It’s not you!”

“Then why—”

“I don’t think I… love you.”

Roux blinked, before simply getting up and leaving. Cassiopeia was left wide-eyed and frozen before chasing after him, “Roux, stop!”

“3 YES, CASSIOPEIA! WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 3 YEARS!” Roux yelled, continuing to walk away from her.

“I’M SORRY,” She shouted back at him.

He turned around swiftly looking at her dead on, a mix of rage and sadness in his eyes, “YOU LIED TO ME FOR 3 YEARS! CASSIOPEIA I’VE LOVED FOR AGES AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!”

“ROUX I NEVER—”

“WHAT?!” He screamed, “YOU NEVER LOVED ME?! THAT MUCH IS OBVIOUS! THE GOO-GOO EYES YOU MAKE AT IPHIGENIE ARE EVERY OBVIOUS, I’M SURPRISED YOU DON’T MAKE LUTHER JEALOUS!”

Cassiopeia kept her mouth shut before Roux laughed wickedly, “At first I thought it was just because you felt bad for her or something because she was weird and barely had any friends when she got back. Then I was every time you saw her! It’s so fucking obvious you have a fucking crush on her and I OVERLOOKED THAT BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!”

“Roux, I’m sorry!”

“That’s all your going to fucking say?!”

Cassiopeia nodded sheepishly before Roux clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth and headed for the train station. Stomping his way back to the dorms, Calliope and Solomon were sitting on the porch steps chatting.

“Get out of my way!” Roux snarled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah sure man,” Solomon muttered, wrapping a protective arm around Calliope’s shoulder to pull her closer to him out of Roux’s way.

“Are you okay, Roux?” Calliope innocently asked.

“Don’t fucking talk to me!”

Calliope hung her head a bit, “What the hell, Roux!” Solomon exclaimed, standing up as Roux reached the top of the stairs, “She was just asking if you were all right, no need to be a dick!”

“I don’t give a shit!” Roux spat descending the stairs again just to get in Solomon’s face, “Both her and Cassiopeia are ugly little leeches!”

“Motherfucker, Cassiopeia’s your girlfriend—”

“NOT ANYMORE! THAT DUMB BITCH BROKE—”

Before Roux could finish his sentence Solomon punched him square in the face, making the Football captain stumble back a bit, “I let you get away with a lot,” Solomon lamented with dark eyes, “But you’re just an asshole that expects things to go his way! Cassiopeia never fucking loved you she barely even liked you that was obvious to everyone with a brain! We were with you because you made being in a relationship with her seem like something she needed to do because you are the captain of the Football team and she’s a cheerleader! Completely overlooked two people that have any sort of feeling for you, you dickhead!”

Roux huffed, picking himself out of the dirt as Solomon helped Calliope up and off the stairs and went inside while the sun was setting. The Football player stared at the darkening clouds for a long time, while sitting on the sits of the dormitory porch truly wondering when he first became such an asshole.

Meanwhile, up on Hall Osmanthus Loki sat on her own bed waiting for Amora to get out of the bathroom, replying to the many messages from Lance, Luther, and Odysseus all asking how Amora was doing.

The American girl came out of the bathroom with a towel in hand. She slowly piddled her to her bed, “Cobalt,” Amora muttered to the ghostly man sitting at her desk chair, “I feel better than I did this morning.”

“Good to hear, Chickadee,” He commented. ���Tomorrow with enough rest you’ll be right as rain.”

“Thank you for worrying,” Amora noted.

“Of course,” Cobalt said with a nod.

“My brothers are worried about you,” Loki chuckled, shaking her phone in her hand before tossing it on her bed.

Amora smiled, “Tell Luther I said thank you for all the goodies.”

“You should really be thinking of me, I asked him to go get the stuff,” Loki replied, making Amora giggle.

As everything settled for the night and everyone but the few night owls in Solostica were down for the night, a sickly-looking disheveled man covered in filth and grim, wearing clothes far too big for him, and chains wrapped around his ankles and wrist hobbled his way through the quiet streets, taking him a few hours to stumbled his way to Hallows Academy all but collapsing at the front door before screaming:

“GREYSON!”

[sixsixtwenty]

Requests and rules

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

About my "Reader" i write.

The reader does NOT have a specific race, not black, not white or anything they're just them. nor have a specific gender. Most fics will just have reader be identified as They/Them. if you want a specific reader gender just ask! but about race i tend to keep that neutral. also bc i personally do not know how a black reader would make me write differently than a white reader or a reader of any other race.

Rules

From the Fandoms i write for, i especially do NOT write any minor characters for Smut such as in the MHA fandom, i will only write smut for the ADULTS. otherwise the reader is around the age of the mha kiddos. and for Sanrio characters it's only Platonic and friendship bc the whole Sanrio franchise is only very comforting.

I do not write for these things:

any R@pe (yes im aware of what happened to Anya in Mouthwashing. but I won't be writing about the action that has happened between jimmy and Anya, but there will lbe breef mentions of it possibly.)

non-con, gross fetishes l personally dislike such as watersports etcetc, Minor x Adult.

Minors should NOT Read my Smut fics, i cannot control who sees it. read for ur own record.

Who can send requests?

You can only send requests if your age is in your bio, and NOT an anonymous ask. if ur found under the age of 18 and following me i will block you.

Fandoms i write for!

Hazbin hotel

Helluva boss

Scp Foundation

Mouthwashing

My hero academia

Sanrio

Castlevania (Netflix)

What kind of Requests/posts i will do via fandoms character and how well i can.

🔞 = Will Write smut for that Character

🌺 = Will write romance for that Character

🧸 = Will write Platonic / only platonic for that Character

🗑️ = Inexperienced writng for that Character (will be out of chatacter possibly)

Characters

Hazbin hotel

Lucifer 🔞🌺🧸

Alastor 🌺🧸

Angel Dust 🔞🌺🧸

Nifty 🧸🗑️

God 🌺🧸

Helluva Boss

Stolas 🔞🌺🧸

Stella 🔞🌺

Satan 🔞🌺🧸🗑️

Octavia 🧸🗑️

Loona 🌺🧸

Asmodeus 🔞🌺🧸

Scp Foundation

Scp 076-2 🔞🌺🧸

Scp 073 🔞🌺🧸

Scp 682 🌺🧸🗑️

Scp 001 (Scarlet king) 🔞🌺🧸🗑️

Scp 343 🌺🧸

Scp 053 🧸

Scp 049 🌺

Mouthwashing

Pre-crash Curly 🔞🌺🧸🗑️

Post-Crash Curly 🌺🧸

Jimmy 🔞🌺🧸🗑️ (i personally don't like him but eh some ppl do)

Anya 🌺🧸🗑️

Swansea 🌺🧸🗑️

Daisuke 🌺🧸🗑️

My hero Academia

Shota Aizawa 🔞🌺🧸

Toshinori Yagi (all might, both forms) 🔞🌺🧸

Star and Stripes 🔞🌺🧸🗑️

Izuku Midoriya 🌺🧸

Shoto todoroki 🌺🧸

Katzuki Bakugou 🌺🧸

Hitoshi Shinsou 🌺🧸

Mina Ashido 🌺🧸

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) 🔞🌺🧸

Sanrio

Cinnamoroll 🧸

Hello Kitty 🧸

My Melody 🧸

Kuromi 🧸

Keroppi 🧸

Gudetama 🧸

Castlevania

Dracula 🔞🌺🧸

Alucard 🔞🌺🧸

Lisa 🔞🌺🧸

Death 🔞🌺🧸

Isaac 🔞🌺🧸

Hector 🔞🌺🧸

[crazyintheeast]

Finally watched the The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself and this was such a good show. Great world building, very solid cgi ,charismatic actors, good writng but why on Earth did they decide to push for a romance between an adult man and a 16 year old?!? Why not make him a teeanger as well or make them adults. Who on Earth thought it was a good idea?

[noeul-whumpppssssss1234]

INTRO

heyy, I AM NOEUL (its not noel, its noeul). I live in Dubai. WELLL UMM I don't write whump but like i read a lot and write drabbles of ideas and all of whump. I LOVE WHUMP.

I enjoy pet whump rebellious whumpee female whumpee and whumpers vintage whump med whump vampire whump intimate whumper mental whumP emotional whumP physical whump using tools

theres more but i can't remember.

whumps i don't like- when whumpee enjoys the torture, or whumpee loving whumper back its absolutely annoying and sex in whump. military whump is not my fav..

but i do write romance,smut,angst ,fluff etc.

my hobby is reading. i like bake and all. i am A kpop stan. @nuriiz134 this is my ff account.

on this account u will find whump and maybe sm writng and mostly reblogs. also i do not support bullying writers for no reason. and its my first time writing so please be kind.

if theres anything u want to know about me feel free to dm or send in an ask.

PLEASE SUPPORT @unforgivenntired2 @unforgivenn @nuriiz134 @ash-reh. @unforgivenn she writes great whump. her writngs are 🤌🤌. @unforgivenntired2 writes angst smut and all for anime. @ash-reh writes smut too of her ocs. prolly bl.. @nuriiz134 writes ffs for kpop.

[longdariavampysilver]

■ 20 ■

Since I knew Charlie, I had never seen him look so hard at anyone, and it impressed me a lot, I knew he was talking about his friend in the DEM pub, and even he had talked about him very few times, I knew that when the transformation started, he was with him, and he remained dazed, even by the fact that everyone around him was transforming like zombies. His look frightened me, and it was only…