#school be catching ya when you’re inspired

[offkilterkeys]

If Dirk were to ever go grimdark than it would force Hal into being the of voice of reason, something he rarely takes seriously.

Anyway do you guys ever think about how our generation’s formative years will always be defined by the fact that everyone is famous and no one is a hero? Or is that just me?

[neiptune]

surreal, but nice

cw: 7k wc, female reader, strangers to lovers, osamu doesn't exactly know how to handle one of the most famous music artists in japan suddenly popping in onigiri miya, inspired by notting hill, my sappy entry for the romcom collab hosted by @bloompompom! thank you @yellow-sword-lily, this fic is also a little yours :)

Miya Osamu is a creature of habit.

He gets up fairly early, showers, never leaves the small apartment without fixing himself a nutritious breakfast, more or less knows and is therefore prepared to what to expect from each particular day.

Downstairs there’s his beloved shop, a dormant creature he gently stirs from sleep each morning. When he doesn’t have to head to the market to select and order the freshest products, Osamu starts the day by contacting all his suppliers and arranging the deliveries. He then checks the inventory, reviews reservations, welcomes the only other chef to discuss any special preparations or new experiments. It’s not unusual for him to check his emails, monitor the website and official social media of the shop, the one thing he actually hates doing because he knows damn well one negative comment will ruin his day, especially since there’s nothing he can do to rectify mistakes made days, sometimes weeks before.

He has a chef, one dishwasher, three servers, two food delivery drivers and that’s about it. Osamu Miya is the owner, manager, host, executive chef, server and cashier of onigiri Miya. He juggles management skills, culinary talent and business acumen just perfectly. He’s prepared and knows exactly what each day has in store for him.

Until you happen.

Osamu has been cooking for almost three hours by the time the shop officially opens at 11AM. It’s not unusual for new faces to come in from time to time, despite his clientele being more or less established, but it is rare to hear the little door chime ring so soon. Except if his dumb brother happens to be in town.

But you’re not his dumb brother. You’re a new and yet strangely familiar face, even hidden behind thick sunglasses and a beret that one could deem more appropriate to a parisian getaway rather than a Kansai one.

“Morning” you offer a little bow, hesitant by the door “you’re open, right?”

“Uh, sure” he smiles, still a little uncertain after a moment of astonishment “I don’t often have clients for breakfast. What can I get ya?”

“I’ve been told this is the best onigiri shop in town. I’ll let you decide”

You seem to consider your options for a moment, then decide to sit at the closest empty table. Osamu would usually provide more than a nod: he’d make conversation, ask questions. Forming bonds with whoever visits his shop and trusts his food is his favorite part of the day, as well as a great activity to engage in while his hands are busy putting the rice into molds.

“Close that mouth” is the only thing he utters under his breath, glancing at the server who set your table “yer catching flies”

“But it’s her!” Hiro squeaks as silently as humanly possible “I’m gonna ask for an autograph”

“You will do no such thing”

“We could hang it in the shop!”

“Go help in the kitchen, Minato called in sick today. I’ll handle this”

Hiro disappears behind closed doors but only after batting his freakishly long lashes to his boss, a heartbreaking disappointed look on his face.

Osamu takes a deep breath and squeezes the molds together, an action executed as gently as possible to keep the fluffy texture that makes his onigiri the best in town.

He knows you, of course he knows you. Not only your face was on any available surface for the entirety of the previous summer (posters, billboards, magazine covers to advertise your first ever concert in the Koshien stadium), he’s also pretty sure in high school Atsumu had perpetually ruined the walls of their shared room with some crappy adhesive squares used to hang your poster.

Osamu is not really a dedicated listener, he knows a couple of your most famous songs and that your success is damn near planetary. You have a house in Tokyo but spend most of the year in America, California if he recalls correctly, and you tour across Europe as well. Yet, it’s been easy to pick what to serve you. The gourmet options such as salmon roe or roast beef are off the table: they don’t make new clients feel special. What new clients need is a taste of authenticity, something that reminds them of home, and don’t you look just like the kind of person who could use some of that?

Osamu decides on pickled plum, tuna mayo and bonito flakes. One serving usually consists of three onigiri but he can’t resist adding an extra treat for you, a tenmusu onigiri. He’s recently perfected the recipe with an egg-free tempura batter that is still thick enough to absorb his special sauce.

He hopes it’s not creepy that he lingers by your table after he brings your meal: celebrity or not, you’re a new client. And Osamu can’t resist observing the wander taking over customers who are unfamiliar with his kitchen, as soon as they take the first bite. He hopes you are no exception.

“If this is an onigiri” you lock eyes with him and smile, glorious, radiant “what the hell have I been eating until now?”

“Probably not the best in town” he grins, proud, a slight blush already coating his cheeks. Damn it, he’s tempted to turn the baseball cap once more, let the brim shield his awkwardness. But that would be totally lame.

“Is it a family business?”

“No. It’s just… mine”

You hum, busy chewing on another bite. Then you swallow and ask another question, invite him to sit eventually, then apologize because he’s probably busy (he is) and has things to do (he does) but this is never going to happen again for Osamu, because he’s not Atsumu. And so he sits and makes conversation like a normal human being that definitely isn’t obsessively dwelling on how beautiful you are, how different your voice sounds when you’re not singing, how much he’d hate for a client to come in and pop that bubble. Which is exactly what happens and he doesn’t like it one bit how you interrupt your chuckle, lower your head, hunch your shoulders in an attempt to hide. He doesn’t like that he has to excuse himself, call Hiro back form the kitchen, make conversation with Suzuki-san, listen while he describes all his latest hospital visits in horrifying detail.

You look at him from time to time, the quiet shop owner suddenly turned chatty sparks your curiosity. He’s skilled with his hands and genuinely interested in what the person who must be an habitué has to say. He’s attractive, too. Especially as he tries to disguise the occasional glances directed your way or the disappointment that flashes in his eyes when you get up and start collecting your things.

“Can I get the check, please?” you approach the counter, pretend not to notice his hesitation. Osamu decides against indulging in the “it’s on the house” cliche, opts for treating you as any other client. With the exception of a small discount you won’t even notice.

“That was the best breakfast I had in a while” you collect the receipt and put in your pocket.

“You should come back, then. To have another” Osamu cringes internally as soon as the words leave his mouth and Suzuki-san’s chuckle makes him want to dig a hole to disappear into. But you smile, despite probably having heard the corny line a million other times, and tell him that you just might.

It would’ve been perfect: a beautiful ending to a glorious encounter. It could’ve been. If only you didn’t turn around so abruptly, a small shriek echoing across the shop as you came face to face with Mai, the sudden sound and panic causing her to jump and spill the fresh iced tea from the jug in her hand all over your painfully clean, crisp, starched, white button down.

You both freeze, your mouth open in a silent scream, an horrified look in Mai’s eyes that would’ve been comical on literally any other occasion. Osamu wishes he would’ve went with the “it’s on the house” cliche.

“Oh my god! Oh god! It’s you! I mean, I’m sorry!” Mai’s voice comes out an octave too high “my god, I’m so sorry!”

“Well, this is great” you frantically grab a handful of napkins from the counter and attempt to dab the mess on your shirt “I have a meeting in half an hour!”

“Please, take my uniform! I will pay for the dry cleaning!”

“Actually” Osamu chimes in as politely as possible, trying his best not to let his anxiety get the best of him “don’t take this the wrong way but, uh, I live upstairs. You can get cleaned up and…”

“You’re kidding, right?” your astonished look is almost glacial. It makes him falter just slightly.

“Or ya can leave with a giant orange stain on yer wet, probably uncomfortably cold shirt?”

“Miya-san!” Mai’s hiss and your shocked expression make him think that sarcasm probably wasn’t a good idea. Osamu sighs.

“Listen, I’m really sorry. These are the keys, you can go on your own, I promise the bathroom’s clean”

You eye him for a few seconds more, then decide against grabbing the keys from his hand.

“I’m gonna need a change of clothes”

Osamu blinks a couple times, dumbfounded. His clothes? You’re asking to wear… his clothes?

“Sure! Yeah, sure. Come on” now his voice sounds uncharacteristically squeaky and he clears his throat as you follow him up the stairs, Suzuki-san’s good grief still ringing in his ears.

Thank god he cleaned the entire apartment just the day before. As much as he likes to brag about being the tidy twin, deep down he knows he’s just as messy as Atsumu.

Osamu tries hard not to look at you, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed while he rummages in his drawers in search of something that could fit you. He shortly wonders if it’d be a good idea to offer a complementary bento box to make up for the disaster Mai caused.

“I’m genuinely sorry” he starts rambling because the silence is unbearable and some of Atsumu’s genes really do take over sometimes “the worst incident we ever had at the shop was my brother almost choking on his dinner. I had to perform the heimlich maneuver, it wasn’t pretty” god, where the hell are this clean, not embarrassing shirts?

“Guess this one will go down in history” your voice is less sharp now, which relieves him.

“Oh, no. I will never tell anyone about this, ever. Mai and Suzuki-san will have to sign an nda. A proper, legally binding one”

The laugh you offer sounds weirdly intimate in the small space of his bedroom, it makes the tips of his ears hot. Finally, he’s able to dig out a decent, basic shirt you accept by thanking him softly. When you lock yourself in the bathroom, Osamu rushes to the kitchen to tidy up the mess he’s left behind after that morning’s breakfast. No time to concentrate on how you’re actually, genuinely in his home, cleaning yourself in the same bathroom he showered in, without a shirt on.

No one’s ever going to believe him. Hell, he may not believe it himself by the end of the day.

“Hey” he jumps at your voice, sudden and closer than expected. You look good in his basic shirt, it suits you somehow. Did you shove your own in one of the bags you left by the door?

“Hey” Osamu says back and cringes for the millionth time “are ya hungry?”

You smile when he shuts his eyes for a second, right after the silly question leaves his mouth.

“Not hungry”

“Right. Of course. Thirsty? I have really good tea, from Shizuoka. And orange juice” he pauses for a second, then adds “or water”

Your smile grows, almost melts into a giggle. “Not thirsty either”

“Okay” he clears his throat “how about dessert? I made some mitarashi dango just yesterday”

“I have a meeting to attend”

“Oh. Sure, yeah, that makes sense” he wants to bash his head against the wall “I’ll walk you out. To downstairs” thank fuck ‘Tsumu isn’t there, he’d never let him live this down. Jesus.

You precede him to the door, gather your bags, then softly thank him for the shirt.

“Nice meeting you, Osamu” he nearly explodes when you say his name, no honorifics whatsoever. How do you even know? He hasn’t carried a name tag on his shirt for years.

“It was nice to meet you too” there’s no time to dwell on dumb, pointless questions “surreal, but nice”

He thinks if your smile could conjure waves, he’d gladly give up all the oxygen in his lungs and drown in them. Has someone ever looked as beautiful while smiling at him? He doesn’t think so. He can’t think. Not when you’re leaning closer, not when your arms are suddenly wrapped around his neck, not when you’re pressing your lips to his. Holy shit. You’re pressing your lips to his. And he’s forgotten how to breathe, let alone kiss. Osamu just freezes, like a marble statue, like a teenager who’s never touched a woman before. Right as he’s about to swallow the shock and fucking move, you’re already pulling away, eyes not leaving his despite the slight self-consciousness swarming in those irises.

And then you disappear, just like the dream he believed you were, all that’s left is an empty spot by the door and his heart slamming against a pathetically ill-equipped ribcage.

La Suite is one of the most luxurious hotels in the prefecture and Osamu feels out of place with the 30 onigiri order he’s carrying past a french restaurant and a traditional japanese one, all soft carpeting, dim lights and wide windows. So different from his.

He timidly explains that he’s there to deliver an order to a certain Bennet-san, who for some reason insisted he’d be the one bringing it to her hotel. They look at him funny but let him through and give the coordinates: top floor, superior double room. A woman meets him the second he steps out of the elevator and sternly asks him to follow her, a silly part of him wonders if he’s about to get murdered in one of the top 25 hotels in Japan. But then she knocks on a door right before swinging it open and he doesn’t even get to explain that he’s not supposed to get inside, she can take the bloody bag and he’ll be on his merry way, but once again Osamu fails to determine what the day holds in store for him.

Once more, it’s you. A less preppy version, one that seems so small in such a gigantic room, the sea breeze blowing from the terrace gracefully lifting up the hem of a tennis skirt you immediately fight to keep down as you promptly get up from the couch.

“Hi” he says, so dumbfounded he barely notices the door closing behind him.

“Miya-san” you bow, keep your eyes down, no sign of a smile he could by now deem familiar “I’m sorry for the trouble, I know the hotel is pretty far from the restaurant and you must be busy. This will only take a second”

Osamu’s brows furrow, confusion evident in the way he cocks his head. You don’t catch it, because your eyes are glued to the floor. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I don’t know what came over me, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me”

His eyes soften as part of the tension leaves his shoulders. Truth is, Osamu is glad you’re apologizing: despite how beautiful and dreamy you may be, life is not quite a movie and he doesn’t exactly appreciate being blindsided by a stranger. He doesn’t really understand what made you think kissing him would be a good idea (was his awkardness interpreted the wrong way? Did his stare linger on your smile a second too long?) but he’s certain you meant no harm. A shitty person certainly wouldn’t take time out of her day to leave an autograph on a napkin, especially right after half a jug of iced tea was spilled on her shirt just minutes before. To Hiro, with love.

After a moment, he clears his throat. “Can ya look at me?”

You meet his gaze hesitantly, mouth a thin line of harsh disapproval directed at yourself. For a second, you remind him of someone and he almost breaks into a smile.

“Thank you for apologizing. We’re good”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah!” he chuckles “you didn’t have to place such a big order”

You blink twice, then start nervously fiddling with your fingers “ah, actually I didn’t do it to… well, those onigiris are just really good. I wanted to take some extra ones with me”

“You’re leaving?” he doesn’t mean to sound disappointed, especially not while you’re so intentionally keeping your distance.

“Kinda. My record label rented a house in the countryside, I’ll spend most of the summer locked in, trying to finish my new album. I couldn’t do it in America, I missed being home but didn’t want to endure Tokyo’s chaos so I ended up picking Hyogo. Sorry, you didn’t ask to know all that” you chuckle tensely “we leave tomorrow and I didn’t want to go without apologizing first. That’s all. You may go now”

Osamu hums. “I may go? As in I’m excused?” he laughs when your painfully stoic expression melts into sheer horror.

“No! Of course not, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“You take yourself too seriously” he grins “I’m just messin’ with ya”

“That’s not very nice of you”

“Would you compare it to kissing a stranger out of the blue?”

“Oh god” you hide your overheated face in your hands “you said we’re good!”

“And we are” Osamu steps closer to gently place the bags still in his hands on the marble topped pedestal coffee table. It’s just fun to tease you, one of the many irritating habits he shares with his brother.

His brother. Osamu looks up, a risky desire taking shape in his head and threatening to spill over the tip of his tongue.

“I’m really sorry, Miya-san” you repeat and he doesn’t love that you’re now calling him that “uh, this is your shirt. Cleaned and ironed. Thank you for…”

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

You freeze, paper bag still in hand. “Uhm, nothing interesting”

“No packing?”

“My manager does that for me”

He chuckles. “Right. Chances you’d want to spend your last night in the city at an even less interesting birthday party?”

Osamu waits patiently while you weigh your options, recognizes the confusion in your hesitant stare but doesn’t quite understand why there’s a weary vibration to your voce when you accept, the slight disappointment that flashes across your features.

It’s only fair, you think as he parts from the room with a smile and the command to secure those onigiris in a fridge. If showing you off to his friends like some valuable conquest is the way he wants to even the score, you’re in no position to deny him. You’re the one at fault and you’ve been given a chance to make up for it by wearing the facade you wear best.

Then why does it feel so disheartening, this time?

When Shinsuke opens the door, he’s more surprised by your presence than the carefully wrapped gift in your hands. Not that he doubted Osamu: why send a message to the group chat telling everyone that a) he was bringing someone and b) they should’ve absolutely not behaved any differently than usual if not better (in bold), if he wasn’t actually going to show up with a plus one?

Still, a small part of him did wonder if Atsumu’s and Rintaro’s relentless teasing finally got the best of him. Shinsuke doesn’t think that his friend works too much or that he should start “looking around” before “his hair starts greying again only this once naturally”. He remembers Osamu rolling his eyes at his brother when he implied that at this rate he’s gonna have to tie the knot with the restaurant, only to then space out for most of the evening as everyone else found new topics to migrate toward.

In short, Shinsuke wondered if Osamu was going to come up with a last minute excuse to justify the empty spot next to him at the table. But it seems that spot is going to be taken after all, by you nonetheless.

“Nice to meet you, Kita-san” you smile after Osamu introduces you by your name and nothing else, not a wink, not even a subtle hint or a reasonable explanation “happy birthday”

Shinsuke accepts the gift with a polite thank you and he’s almost made sure you could preserve a nice, normal memory of stepping foot into his house for the first time, of course failing to consider the Hinata factor.

“Thank god, Osamu, I’m so hungry- holy shit! Is her your gift? I only brought a cap that says farm hair don’t care!” there’s a strange but seemingly friendly redhead looking at you with eyes so wide you fear they might roll out of their sockets.

“Shoyo, any chance you checked the chat today?” Osamu smiles at him widely but Kita recognizes the tension at the corners.

“What? Of course not, I was busy picking a cute gift” Hinata smiles too but his excitement is genuine “hello, nice to meet you! Please come in, you can help us set the table!”

You chuckle and meet Osamu’s horrified eyes for a second, his posture relaxes as your gentle reassurance puts him at ease. I’ll be in the other room, then. Leave it to Hinata to make a gigantic deal out of a special guest only to treat her as one of his buddies ten seconds later. You seemed comfortable, though, as one always feels whenever Shoyo happens to be around.

“Who is she?” Shinsuke doesn’t mean for his tone to be so conspiratorial but he keeps it low, just in case you might still hear them.

“A friend. Kinda. Ya wouldn’t believe me” Osamu takes his jacket off and hangs it by the door, then picks up the plethora of bags from the floor and makes his way into his friend’s kitchen.

“No, I mean… who is she? Why does Shoyo know her?” Shinsuke follows suit, intent on helping him distribute all the food he’s brought in the different plates he has prepared. Osamu shakes his initial surprise off with a chuckle.

“Only one of the most famous pop music artists in Japan”

Kita stills his movements for a second, then absorbs the new information with a simple nod. “Right. And you met her at the shop”

“How d’ya know?”

“Where else would you be meeting a pop music artist?”

“Don’t make it sound so obvious” Osamu pulls a face and Shinsuke’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, she’s here. With you. Is it like… a date?”

“No” the peremptory answer comes embarrassingly fast “it’s her last night in the city, she’s here because she didn’t have anything better planned”

“But you invited her”

“Yes”

“Because you like her”

“I don’t-” Osamu gestures vaguely with his hands “it’s not like that. ‘Tsumu used to have a poster of her face in our room, for fuck’s sake”

Kita hums. “So what you actually mean is it can’t be like that”

“I don’t see the difference”

“I do”

“Well-” a loud commotion Osamu has been trained for over two decades to instantly recognize as his brother’s voice, makes the words die in his throat. By the time him and Shinsuke return to the colorfully decorated living room (courtesy of an overly enthusiastic Hinata and one resigned Rintaro), Atsumu is already talking your ear off and seemingly invading your personal space multiple times as he follows you around the table you’re setting with Suna like a golden retriever on a sugar overload.

“Shoyo, you were supposed to keep her safe” Osamu glares at his brother and takes a mental note to scold Aran too, later. For snickering.

Hinata doesn’t get the chance to defend himself because of course Atsumu’s the only one who could outshine that intense excitement with his own.

“Samu! What the hell? If this is yer gift to Shin, what are ya plannin’ to get me exactly?”

“Can everyone stop assuming she’s here as a thing and not as a person?” it comes out harsher than intended and Osamu feels his face grow hot when all those present simply stare at him. When you stare at him.

Suna clears his throat.

“Cut him some slack, he came out of the bathroom and we could barely convince him she’s not a hallucination” you chuckle at that, which makes the ever stoic Rintaro look away with a faint blush blossoming on his pale cheeks.

“Wait” Atsumu looks at you, then at his brother and his brows become progressively furrowed “she’s here with you? As in, you invited her? And she said yes?”

Osamu wonders why he thought a simple admonishment in the group chat would be enough. He has half an idea of shoving an onigiri right into his brother’s loud mouth and not perform any maneuver whatsoever when the rice obstructs his airways.

“Actually, I wanted to come” you chime in so gently it takes a few moments for him to register the words “I’m leaving tomorrow and when Miya-san mentioned it was one of his friends’ birthday, I shamelessly asked if I could tag along. Hope I’m not a bother”

Kita is looking at you the same way Osamu is, puzzled. Hinata almost chokes on his coke and starts coughing profusely, so much that Aran has to lend him a napkin.

“A bother? No, of course not!” his nose might be on fire but by god, he physically cannot let you believe such nonsense for a second too long.

Atsumu’s mouth hangs wide open, brows still knit that make his expression overall hilarious “you make her call you Miya-san? Yikes, bro” he turns to you and makes a scene of slamming a hand on his chest “please, feel free to call me ‘Tsumu. I think we’re intimate enough by now”

“Given that we took five selfies and you made me sign my name on your abs, I also think we’re intimate enough” your grin seems genuine, which only startles Osamu more.

“Ya made her do what?” oh, there are probably not enough words in the japanese vocabulary for the way he’ll have to apologize at the end of the night.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind” you shrug “but if I could ask everyone a small favor…”

“Sure, anything!” Atsumu’s interruption only makes your smile grow wider “I’d really like to celebrate Kita-san’s birthday like you’d normally do. Please don’t make a big deal out of me, it’s his night after all”

“She’s asking not to be treated like a circus act” Aran whispers to Hinata, who blinks his big brown eyes in quiet understanding.

“Done!” Atsumu’s fist hits his chest right where the heart is as he solemnly declares “you’re one of the boys now, consider yourself a pal”

“Thanks, ‘Tsumu” he tries to keep his composure but nearly implodes as you direct your attention to Shoyo “no, Hinata-san, this doesn’t mean we won’t be taking that picture I promised. Don’t worry” your wink is the prettiest, most wonderful thing he’s ever witnessed and thank fuck he’s done drinking that coke because his airways suddenly feel clogged.

Kita thinks this is already the most entertaining birthday he’s ever celebrated.

And celebrate his birthday you all do. Normally, as per your request. You sit between Rintaro and Osamu at dinner and masterfully divert the attention from yourself whenever the questions start piling up. The uno reverse technique works well: your curiosity feels flattering and everyone is happy to satisfy it. The questions you direct are extremely specific, your laugh echoes alongside everyone else’s and Osamu can’t help but think that, in some odd way, you fit in seamlessly. 

Keeping his eyes off of you isn’t but a strenuous fight with himself, it’d be lovely if looking would be the only activity he’d be allowed to engage in. It’s not hard to guess why hordes of fans and admirers are so enamoured: you’re such a natural. Polite, poised, funny, charismatic. Making you laugh feels like a privilege, having your brows raise in interest makes the story one’s recounting instantly fascinating. And yet you’re not doing any of that on purpose, he can tell. The one thing you’re being intentionally careful about is avoiding his gaze and making sure your arm doesn’t accidentally brush against his.

Osamu wants to ask himself why but also refuses to indulge in childish fantasies. What, he thought you liked him? Part of him believed you’d accepted to come to some stranger’s birthday party purely to spend an evening with him. Bullshit. Everyone in the world knows who you are and he simply owns an onigiri shop in Hyogo, one you happened to visit by sheer chance. He’s the guy you are so embarrassed to be seen with, you had to come up with a lie to justify your presence at the very same table that seems to adore you.

But when he jokingly throws a grain of rice at Aran, you hide your chuckle behind your hand. If he speaks, you always turn to look. Osamu doesn’t remember a social gathering where he tried to come up with just as many things to say, desperately conjuring genes that always weigh heavier in Atsumu. Unfortunately, the one person he could always count on, his dear friend and trusty supplier, decides his birthday night is the perfect occasion to stab him in the back.

“I’m sorry, I just need to ask” Kita refills your glass with fresh wine from across the table before retracting to his seat once more “your encounter with Osamu, how did it happen exactly?”

“Yeah, was his onigiri so good you wanted to-”

“Do not finish that sentence, Shoyo” Aran clears his throat as Suna, next to you, has a hard time swallowing his stir fry noodles.

“She heard my shop was the best in town, which it is, came to try it. That’s the story” Osamu wishes he could disappear into his kitchen as he often does when things at the restaurant get uncomfortable.

“I don’t buy it” Shinsuke shrugs “is that really the whole story?”

Kita’s knowing stare really hasn’t changed since high school and it seems you’re affected by it just as much as every other human. His eyes bore right into yours, trained to detect hesitation or even the hint of a lie, giving you no escape. Goddamn it, he’s still the team captain, there’s no running from him.

“Well” you gently swirl the glass in your hand, suddenly very much focused on the crimson liquid swooshing inside “I also kissed him”

This time someone does actually choke and, of course, it’s Atsumu. Right as Rintaro utters an ever quiet holy shit, he explodes in a coughing fit and Aran promptly strikes between his shoulder blades with the heel of his hand, perhaps with more force than needed. Thankfully, Atsumu manages to swallow his bite and, despite the tears threatening to run down his cheeks in all their shimmering glory, still conjures the energy needed to point an intimidating finger at his brother “ya bastard!”

“That’s a joke, right?” Hinata’s eyes have once again grown three sizes.

Kita doesn’t ask, the answer is written all over Osamu’s crimson red face. He was right, no one would’ve believed him.

“No, I really did” you take a sip from your glass and now everyone is looking at you like you’re some kind of alien. Except for Atsumu, who’s still glaring daggers at his brother.

“So this is… a date for you two?” Suna’s just as shocked as everyone else but seems to be the only person currently able to string words together.

“Oh, no” you brush the question off with a gracious wave of the hand “I just did it to thank him”

This time the silence stretches for a moment too long. Atsumu seems on the verge of passing out.

“You kissed him to thank him?” Kita cocks his head.

“Yeah. I mean, he was very kind. Have you never kissed someone to thank them?”

“Uh… no. I don’t think so”

“Really?”

“Do you…” Aran hopes to the gods that the words don’t come out the wrong way “do that often?”

“Aran” as much as Osamu wishes the earth could swallow him whole, he doesn’t want you to think his friends may be implying something they’re really not.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“It’s okay” you let our a nervous chuckle and because Osamu is sitting so close, he hears the shaky breath too “I know it was wrong. I tend to forget that’s not what normal people are used to. I apologized and now we’re good, right, Miya-san?” your eyes meet his and he feels his heart drop right into his stomach.

“Why are you used to that?” he asks instead of replying to your question and you just. Freeze.

“Yeah…” Hinata quietly chimes in “that doesn’t sound like something anyone should be used to”

For the first time, you don’t know how to respond. Osamu senses your panic, can read it in your eyes, but is too baffled to think of something smart or chivalrous to say.

“Holy shit, ya know what that means?” Atsumu slams both his hands on the table and both you and everyone else jump “it means she thinks I’m hot! In another life, I’d have a chance! Sorry, Shin, I know it’s yer birthday but I think this is the best night of my life!”

A quiet, astonished moment follows, then the table erupts in genuine laughter. You’re giggling so much you have to hold your stomach, Kita is shaking his head in resignation, Suna rolls his eyes with affection. Osamu settles for a smile as he relaxes against his chair once more. His brother may be loud and annoyingly inopportune, but his quiet support never once faltered throughout the years. One doesn’t need to be an old acquaintance to be taken under Miya Atsumu’s wing: if he senses as much as the hint of unease, his charismatic idiocy is summoned right away at the service of whoever may need it. Yet his loyalty remains unshakeable: Osamu knows that, in his stupid head, you’re already forbidden territory.

His mind is dizzy with confusion he doesn’t know how to properly address. As Kita blows out the candles on the cake he’s made, Osamu feels a wave of affection inundate his heart. He remembers that are nights like this that are worth being present, even if he has to get up at dawn or his sink is full of dirty dishes and he’s exhausted. Life only ever feels right when he’s with his friends or his family. It’s a routine he’s trained hard to get used to: work, work, work, carve out small moments to spend with those who come and go. It’s important for him to be there, when they come.

Osamu almost misses it, too focused on cleaning an extra plate or two in the kitchen, to make sure the birthday boy can get to relax once they leave. And then you call for him, a small crack in that poised facade of yours when his name almost slips out. You rush into the kitchen and urge him to hurry up, they’re already singing happy birthday to Kita-san. Come on, you’re missing it!

You probably wanted to go for his sleeve and found his hand instead, dragged him out of the room so quickly Osamu barely had the time to put the towel down. For some reason, once in the living room you don’t let go right away and neither does he. You only do so to clap with everyone else and even then it’s not entirely possible to establish who lets go first. Regardless, Osamu gives your hand a light squeeze and hopes you notice, despite there being no signs to indicate that.

You’re the first two people to excuse themselves: he refuses to let you go back to your hotel on your own, doesn’t give two shits that you have a driver or could well afford a cab because it’s a beautiful evening and Osamu is itching to have as little as ten minutes alone with you. He watches as you formally offer a hand to Suna and he grins as he shakes it, gently taking it in between his in a respectful attempt at suggesting that there’s no need to be so ceremonious.

You exchange quick hugs with everyone else, take the picture promised to Hinata, chuckle lightly when Atsumu timidly asks for a kiss on the cheek just because “it’s the american way of saying goodbye!” and of course you accomodate the request. Osamu is almost willing to bet you genuinely had fun but he also can’t seem to shake off the odd feeling suggesting you’ve somehow taken it upon yourself to just… appease everyone for the entire evening. Like some kind of duty. He doesn’t want you to think back to this evening like a task that had to be carried out.

“Oh my god, I cannot fucking believe it!” Atsumu’s shriek echoes loud and clear in the empty street  as soon as Kita shuts the door and you meet Osamu’s exasperated glare.

“I’m genuinely not sure what I should start apologizing for” he runs a hand through his brown hair and his stress makes you smile as you fall into a comfortable walking pace.

“I should start by thanking you for inviting me. Can’t remember the last time I had such a normal night”

“My friends are many things but I don’t know if they really fall into the normal category”

You laugh at that. “I think they’re really nice. It was fun. I didn’t know there were two of you”

Osamu grimaces, lightly shaking his head “good call, he’s the thing I should start apologizing for”

“I liked Atsumu” of course you did, don’t they all? “you’re lucky to have such good friends and a brother. Is it true what they say about weird connections us twinless mortals wouldn’t get?”

He sighs. As much as Osamu hates stereotypes and all the disadvantages that come with not being able to be his own person, the curse of always being considered nothing but part of a set, he knows the bond with Atsumu is just as rare and irreplaceable as people make it out to be.

“Well, I can pretty much always read his mind. But it’s not a twin thing, s’just an Atsumu thing” he shrugs “most transparent, honest person on earth”

“You’re both very kind” your observation strikes him. It hits the nail on the head: he does his best but it’s unusual for someone to notice ‘Tsumu’s selflessness right away.

“Could say the same about ya” he’s eager to direct the topic to the thing he’s really interested in, the one person who refused every bit of attention directed her way throughout the night “that tea collection must’ve costed a fortune. Shinsuke loves tea, yer manager picked well”

You hum, gaze focused on your feet. “Actually, I picked it”

Another thing Osamu has in common with his brother, the ability to royally fuck up in such a short amount of time.

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay, happens all the time”

“What happens?”

“People assuming things” you’re not mad, there’s just a sad vibration to your voice. If he could punch himself in the face, he would.

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” Osamu hates the smile you toss at him. He hates it so much he stops in the middle of the sidewalk and watches you turn around, confusion flashing in your disenchanted eyes.

“There’s a pretty cool park ‘round the corner. How about a detour? If you’re not too tired”

You hum in agreement, ask him to lead the way. Careful, Osamu, you’d like to say. This same polite regard is what got me in trouble the first time.

The park, which is more of a garden really, is a slice of eden in the jungle that any city inevitably ends up feeling like. Lowlands, an abundance of irregular but colorful flowerbeds that seem to glow in the dark, the warm air of the evening saturated with the sweet scent of lime trees, a gravel path you both follow all the way to a small, wooden playground. It’s only natural to gravitate toward the swings, relish in the comfort of the stillness the evening offers. It always feels like the earth rotates slower, pace decelerating to give you more time to enjoy the things it’s hard to appreciate during your hectic days.

Osamu approaches the swing like an old friend, takes hold of the chains with both hands. He lightly pushes off the ground with his feet while pulling back, giving you a perfect view of his perfect profile.

“I don’t want to assume” he says quietly “so is it okay if I ask?”

“Yeah” you rest your head on the chain you’re holding, still looking at him who won’t look at you.

“Why did you tell ‘Tsumu you asked me to come tonight?” the actual question dies in his throat. Were you that embarrassed of being there with me?

“You seemed pretty self-conscious. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable” and I guess that way, you got to seem cooler.

Osamu almost chokes on his own spit from how surprised he is by your answer. What the fuck.

“I wasn’t-” not for the reason you seem to believe “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable!”

You smile, patiently waiting for the moment where he’ll finally turn to meet your gaze instead of persistently staring at his feet. “I don’t think I ever felt that comfortable in a room filled with men”

“That shouldn’t be an exceptional occurrence”

“Right. But it is”

He spends a few moments trying to come up with the right words, a handful of seconds spent with part of his brain wishing he could have a talk with all the men who made you feel unsafe. How many? Where, why? Are they the reason why Osamu wants to get so desperately close and yet keep a respectful distance, not to scare you off, not to be another name added to the list of creeps you surely hate?

“Why did you kiss me?” those are far from being the right, considerate words he was trying to summon, but they bubble up from his throat before he can stop them.

You hum, pensive “I don’t know. You’re pretty, you’re gentle, I thought t’was what you expected to happen. It’s what men usually expect in return”

“In return for what?” he fights the urge to keep his eyes down, confident that the darkness will conceal the redness of his cheeks. You think he’s pretty and the first thing his dumb brain is able to link the revelation to, is Atsumu. Shit, he was right, this means you do find him attractive as well.

“Anything, really” your chuckle is devoid of actual humor “I know this night was supposed to make up for it but I didn’t expect to have so much fun. Regardless, I hope we’re even now”

Osamu furrows his brows.

“Ya think that’s why I invited ya?”

“Why else?”

He almost laughs, incredulous. You hide that mistrust really well, Osamu has to give it you. It feels unfair that life has given someone who seemingly has everything, so many reasons to think you can only be seen as an empty shell, some trophy with the sole purpose of being flaunted.

“You said you were leaving. I didn’t like the idea of not seeing you again”

“Really?” your lips curl into a small smile “the weird girl who jumped you on your first meeting?”

“You’re weird” he concedes “and selfless. Intelligent. Maybe jokes are not your forte but, hey, ya get to look like that” your laugh compliments his really well and Osamu can’t help but think he’d like to sit in a park, in the middle of the night, and talk and laugh and be with you just once more.

You briefly wonder if the man sitting so close to you is aware of just how devastatingly charming he is. Part of you wishes he’d want to take you out on a proper date, let you meet his friends on different occasions, include a weird stranger in such a well balanced life. Part of you also knows you’d never want to ruin that for him. Not for someone like Osamu. People who are unfortunate enough to stumble across you are almost always harassed away, it’s a life you’re used to and can’t bring yourself to run from. It’s who you are and, most importantly, all you have. It’d be too dangerous for your heart to desire anything different.

But he’s looking at you as if you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, land emerged from the sea millions of years ago for his eyes only to experience such a sight. No one’s ever looked at you with such wonder.

“I don’t want to assume” he holds your gaze locked to his, swing dangling lightly as he leans closer “so is it okay if I ask?”

“Yes” you utter a little too breathlessly.

“Can I kiss ya?”

You hum in affirmation and close your eyes, heart beating a little faster than what you’re used to as you sense his proximity. He smells nice, radiates warmth and his soft hair tickles a little when his lips gently press to your cheek.

Osamu smiles when he catches a glimpse of disappointment flashing over your features, the first of many clues he wants to learn how to interpret correctly. The cracks in a facade he’d make his personal mission to tear down.

“I know you have to go away tomorrow” he gently moves a strand of hair away from your forehead “but I wondered, if you didn’t, whether you might let me see ya a little. Or a lot, maybe”

You lean into his touch, calloused fingertips still barely grazing your skin.

“A lot sounds good”

[heavenbarnes]

completely self indulgent thoughts about older!bf simon inspired by today's events at work. I work in tech/sales and a lot of my days are spent setting up new phones for people who are 35+, that for the life of them, can't figure out technology. just thinking about older!bf simon needing to get a new phone and asks reader for her thoughts, but when reader starts talking about storage size or sim cards he gets confused and just tells her "pick whatever love, I trust your judgement" not just because he does in fact, trust her judgement, but also because he can't he bothered trying to learn and understand.

have many thoughts about this.

friend, 90% of what i write is entirely self indulgent- we’ve got to do it 🫶🏼

it’s a miracle you convinced older bf!simon to finally get rid of that god forsaken flip phone and start working with an actual smartphone.

granted, it was like pulling teeth (yes the prospect of receiving nudes whilst he was deployed helped) but what mattered was he’d finally entered the 21st century.

and then he drops his cellphone on the drive and manages to boot it into the side of the neighbour’s garage. the thing was absolutely munted by the time it’d come off the end of simon’s steel cap.

which is why you’re standing in the middle of the electronics store looking at endless tables of cellphones and simon looks like he’s there at gunpoint.

“i ‘ave been held at gunpoint, was better than this”

so you lead him to the smartphones that are smart but not too smart, the ones that look hard to break or get wrong. they also look older than half the people working in the store, but that’s besides the point.

“can i help you both with anything?”

right on cue, a young but cheery guy appears across the table with a lanyard that tells you his name is hunter and he’s ready to help!

“no”

your elbow fits nicely under simon’s ribcage as you gear up to play hunter’s defence lawyer for however long this interaction is going to take.

“hi hunter, this one is looking for a new smartphone- what do you recommend?”

and while hunter does a standup job at explaining the benefits of a handful of phones he probably hasn’t sold to anyone under 75, simon is suddenly well engaged.

“and we’ve got a selection of cases, just regular ones or tough ones”

“need t’be tough, don’t want the fucker breakin’ when i’ve got someone in a headlock”

hunter pales and you veeeery slowly turn to simon with a look on your face that begs to know what the actual fuck is wrong with him.

“oh simon, you comic trailblazer- you know what, you’ve been so helpful hunter, thank you!”

you cut the kid loose as he tries to leave the table without taking his eyes off simon, who coincidentally is doing the exact same thing to him.

“would it kill you to let him help us?!”

“just about, didn’t like the way he looked at ‘ya”

the kid didn’t look a day out of school and naturally your better half has to pick a fight with any guy that so much as exists within your atmosphere.

he’s lucky he’s so handsome.

“ugh, which one do you prefer? 32GB? 64?”

“whaddyou’ reckon?”

and you’re about to let out the longest sigh known to man when you catch the look on his face.

that same look he gives you when he’s dressed up for dinner or just come back from a haircut, the look he gives you that tells you he’s looking for your opinion.

approval

“32 would do you, i don’t think you need that much space”

he grunts before he pulls you into his side, taking you both to the counter so he can get you to say all that again to your helpful attendee.

“oi, hunter”

poor guy nearly jumps out of his skin but manages to settle when he realises he’s about to close the sale, even manages to upsell that tough case.

simon settles once he’s back in the car with you, eyes scanning the box his phone comes in and grumbling something under his breath.

when you ask him to speak up you immediately wish you hadn’t.

“lost all those videos ‘f yours, better be enough space f’the new ones”

[touchme-teezme]

hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

+ 💌 click here to see my Love Interrupted series masterlist [ot8] — check out the other parts!

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Everything okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

Guilt and shame took over his tired expression, “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? Babe, it’s not like that. Look, he really likes her and—“

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

[merakiui]

maybe, i'm afraid.

azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: slight angst, nsfw, azul bottles his feelings and is insecure note - happy birthday to my favorite tako in the whole world. <3 may you have wonderful days forever!! // loosely inspired by lovelytheband's "maybe, i'm afraid."

i. spring - dancing in your party dress, you were singing me some frank sinatra as you wept. pull me close enough. it seems like we lost touch, so hold me as the record skips.

“Can you believe we’re gonna be fourth years?!” Kalim exclaims with wide, sparkling eyes. They look like twin garnets set into his face—polished jewels having caught the aquatic illumination from Mostro Lounge’s aquarium. “Time really does fly, huh!”

“Feels like yesterday,” Ruggie agrees around a mouthful of food. His plate is stacked as high as it can possibly get, piled with contrasting flavors. “Pretty crazy to think we’re all gonna be heading off in different directions soon.”

Jade nods. “Our school lives are as fun as they are fleeting.”

An odd quiet falls over the three of them, which is soon broken when Floyd drapes himself over the booth. He leans down to swipe a sliver from Jade’s plate. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”

“Just reminiscing.”

“Ah. S’bout that time, ain’t it? Gettin’ sentimental in the spring.”

“Makes sense. The semester’s ending and people are starting up their internships or going home. Really makes you think…”

Ruggie gazes at the group huddled near the bar. Riddle, Jamil, and a half-awake Silver chat alongside you and Azul. You seem to be in the middle of a riveting story, for your arms gesticulate wildly. Azul looks on with what Ruggie thinks is the most mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey smile he’s ever seen.

“We’re gonna come back in the winter, aren’t we?” Kalim asks, tilting his head.

“Indeed. For the cultural festival.”

“Yeah, that’s right! It’ll be fun to see you guys after so much time apart. Oh, we should all keep in touch! That way it’ll feel like no time has passed at all.”

“Perhaps not for us.” Jade follows Ruggie’s line of sight, landing on one person in particular. “For others, the gap is cavernous.”

“What do you mean, Jade?”

Floyd catches on then. “S’not our fault he’s not sayin’ anything.”

Ruggie shrugs. “It doesn’t concern me.” He pops up from his spot in the booth, grinning. “It’s been great and all, but I’ve gotta get my fill. Wouldn’t be right for a guy to skimp out when it’s Azul hosting.”

Giggling, Floyd waves him off. “You do that, Sharksucker.”

Kalim turns to the twins, brows raised. “You’re talking about Azul?”

“He’s been swept up in Shrimpy ever since. It’s been—how long now?—about two years or something.”

“Oh.” Kalim blinks back at him, slow on the uptake. And then, seconds later, it hits him. “Ohhh! He likes (Name)!”

“There ya go.”

“I’m afraid he’s yet to confess,” Jade adds around a bite of cake. “You should see the plans he’s drafted. Dozens of them, in fact. Each one is… Oh, perhaps I’ve said too much already.”

“I don’t get it. If he likes (Name) so much, why wouldn’t he just confess? Why make plans?”

“Wow, Sea Otter, you don’t play when it comes to feelings, do ya?”

“If it was me, I’d want everyone to know how much I care about someone.” To demonstrate this point, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “You’re the best, (Name)!”

You glance past a now wide-awake Silver at the twins and Kalim. Mirroring his actions, you reply in a giggly voice, “Thanks! You’re great, too, Kalim!”

Beaming, he says, “See? It’s not so difficult. If Azul needs any help, I’d be happy to—”

Floyd throws his head back and cackles like a madman. “Not so difficult for you!”

Jade masks his amusement behind a gloved fist. “My, my. I think I’ve just witnessed the very soul drain from Azul’s eyes. You have quite the talent, Kalim.”

Kalim doesn’t hear the underlying meaning or the backhanded barb in his statement. “He’s got time, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what he keeps saying. But deep down he knows.” Floyd watches Azul hurry to recover his composure before anyone can notice. “He’s leaving for his internship after school’s over and then graduation’s next spring. He’s running out of time.”

“Does (Name) like him? Maybe she’ll confess before he does!”

“That’s just it. He doesn’t know what Shrimpy feels for him. Been driving himself crazy all school year tryin’ to figure that one out.”

“I suspect he’s grown excessively cautious as a result of his fear of rejection,” Jade explains, dragging his fork through the buttercream smeared on his plate.

“But if he confesses now and she doesn’t feel the same, he’ll have all summer to recover.” Kalim turns his stare on you next. “(Name)’s always been nice. I’m sure she wouldn’t shatter his heart.”

“When you’re Azul, even the tiniest push is enough.” 

“Really? But he’s always so strong!”

Jade hums. “Three hearts are quite the boon-burden.”

“Only makes lovin’ someone that much worse. Cuz then you’re lovin’ ’em three times as much.”

“Isn’t that good? I think it’s sweet Azul cares about (Name) so much.”

“Sweet…” Jade shares a look with Floyd. Something unspoken passes between them. “Yes, I suppose that’s one way to put it.”

“Azul thinks it’s a pain in the ass. Throws him off his course and he loooves bein’ on his course.” 

Kalim stares a moment longer. “Maybe he needs a push in the right direction.”

“Liquid courage works wonders—”

“—or gives way to woe.”

“Nothing like that.” He doesn’t elaborate further, instead getting up and padding over to the bar with a cheerful bounce in his steps. “Hey, everyone, let’s take a picture!”

Riddle welcomes him with a warm smile. “Ah, hello there, Kalim.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Jamil comments, arms folding across his chest. Which, arguably, is worse because it can only spell trouble should Kalim find himself inspired.

“Way ahead of you!” You hold your Ghost Camera up, turning the lens on Kalim. Lighting up like the very sun in the sky, he poses just as you snap a photo. It takes a few moments for it to develop, but once it does you hand it over to him for his perusal. “Looking good as always.”

“Aww, thanks! Okay, your turn next! Let’s get a big group photo and then individual photos.” With the camera now in his possession, Kalim’s free to fidget with it as he pleases. “Ooh, this is neat!”

“Careful with that!” Jamil bounds forward just in case. “The Headmage gave that to (Name). Don’t break it.”

“I won’t,” Kalim promises, holding it up to capture you and Jamil in its sight. “I think I’ve got it! Everyone, group up! Picture time!”

There’s lots of fumbling. An argument about height breaks out. Floyd pokes fun at Riddle for having to stand in front to account for his height. Riddle fumes, red with anger, and stomps his foot indignantly—all while insisting he’s still growing. You offer to stand beside him, but he hisses at you like a cat: “Don’t patronize me! I’m of perfect, healthy stature for someone my age!”

Kalim looks on from behind the camera. “Actually, can we get (Name) and Azul together first?”

Azul, who had been in the process of adding to the joke with a comment of his own, hesitates. He peers at Kalim, his walls rising. “Me?”

“Yeah! Only fair to put you front and center. You’re the host, after all!”

“Ah, right. Of course. But then—”

“Why me?” you ask, confused. “If anything, I should stay out of the picture. I’m not a third year like the rest of you.”

Kalim gasps, scandalized. “We can’t do that! It doesn’t matter what year you are. You’re still our friend, and parties are for everyone to enjoy.”

“Doesn’t that throw off the original plan?” Ruggie wonders, munching on a frosted donut.

“Kalim, we need to account for height. Riddle can’t stand in the back.” Jamil glances apologetically at Riddle. “That’s just the reality of it.”

Riddle huffs, refusing to dignify that with a response.

“I’ll stand in the front,” Silver offers.

“What? No, that’s not the issue here, Silver.”

“It’s not? I thought we were picking who stands beside (Name).”

“Ooh, I wanna stand with Shrimpy!” Floyd wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your head. “C’mon, Sea Otter, take our pic!”

Jamil sighs. “All of you…”

“Shall we take individual photos with (Name) first?” Jade suggests, smiling placidly at Kalim.

This time the message is received loud and clear. “Oh, great idea, Jade! Azul and (Name), could you stand next to each other?”

The group disperses to allow you and Azul to do just that. Rigidly, Azul steps closer. He keeps a healthy distance between your bodies, one Jade picks up on right away.

“Please smile and pretend like you love each other,” he instructs, to which Azul flusters.

“W-What? Jade, that’s—”

“C’mere, Ashengrotto! I don’t bite!”

With a joyous laugh, you wrap your arm around Azul’s waist and drag him in close. He stumbles, flushed in the face, just as the camera flashes. The corresponding photo slides out next, blank for a while. Eventually, the image begins to show up with striking clarity.

“How’s it look? Great, right?” As soon as it happened, it’s gone—your warmth. The comfort of being held. Azul almost pursues you when you release him from your grasp and move towards Kalim to inspect the photo. Thankfully, he catches himself. “Hey, this is nice! Good job.”

You and Kalim share a high-five.

“Me next, Sea Otter!” Floyd crowds in, baring his pointed teeth in an unruly grin.

With everyone’s attention on you, Kalim, and the camera, Azul’s left to stand behind in silence. Anticipating the rainless deluge, Jade lingers within earshot.

“I know,” he mutters in a brittle tone. “Don’t say a word.”

“Not a peep. Although if I may share just a tiny tidbit… Kalim offered some very helpful advice. You may want to hear it.”

Azul stares at him, stunned. “You told Kalim?”

“Not directly, no. It was implied.” Jade averts his mismatched eyes on purpose. “More or less.”

“I should’ve made you and Floyd sign NDAs…”

“Is it really so sensitive?”

“Yes! Yes, of course it is!” Azul deflates with a sigh, looking on mournfully. You’re trying to snatch the camera from Floyd’s hands. He holds it up and out of reach, laughing raucously. “What did he say?”

“If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart.”

Azul barks out a short, hollow laugh. “In an ideal world, that’s easy.”

“You’re making it more difficult than it needs to be.” Jade issues an encouraging smile. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“It’s just something to consider.”

A minute ticks between them. Jade watches the scene alongside Azul, delighting in distant chaos.

“I’m afraid, Jade,” he admits quietly, the confession as soft and fragile as a single breath. “She’s everything and I’m…nothing.”

Jade frowns in disagreement.

“I’ve looked at it from every conceivable angle. There isn’t any calculated risk to be made—no potential profit or success to be had.”

“Are you certain?”

“Very.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to get it off your chest. We have a few weeks left before the break. If not your heart, perhaps you could establish a means to communicate?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt… For the sake of networking—”

Jade chuckles. “Networking? Is that it?”

Azul scowls. “You’re awfully irritating tonight.”

“I’m not the one with his tentacles tied, hopelessly infatuated.” 

“You—”

“(Name), there’s something Azul would like to tell you,” Jade announces, and you turn to look at him.

Azul thinks he should just go ahead and die right there. Is it possible to spontaneously combust if he thinks about it long enough? Is such a phenomenon magic? All he needs to do is visualize it and then the spark will catch and—

“Yeah? What’s up, Azul?”

Azul flounders, his concentration broken. Like he’s done so many times in the past, he plasters his trademark smirk-grin on and falls into the shoes of the sleazy conman. “If you ever find yourself in need of study materials even after I’ve graduated, do not hesitate to contact me and I—”

You laugh. “I think I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

With withering confidence, he chuckles. “I could give you quite the deal. You’d be missing out…”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced.

Jade—annoying, asshole Jade—brushes past, smooth as sea glass. “I shall take my leave, but please continue your chat. I believe there’s a camera waiting to capture the memory of me.”

Now it’s just you and Azul. He clears his throat, suddenly awkward.

“(Name), I—”

“Azul—”

“Oh.” He stares at you, a smile twitching on his lips. “You first.”

“No, no, you spoke before me.”

“Ah. Well…”

If you confess now, you’ll have the entire summer to mend your tattered heart. As if a love that’s been flowering for two years could possibly be resolved within the span of a few months.

He tries again even though it’s not what he really wants to say. “I do hope you’ll have a pleasant summer.”

“You as well.” You nudge him. “Kick ass at your internship.”

“I intend to.” Right. Internship. Work. Business. He can hold a normal conversation if that’s the topic. “And you? Do you plan to stay here?”

“Yeah. Crowley’s letting Grim and me live on campus since we don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll work part-time in Craneport. Summer is a great season for tourism, but I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”

Azul laughs. “If it’s a family, they may spend more on kid’s menus for the novelty of it all. Be sure to talk it up to truly sell it. All children deserve to know the magic of a seasonal menu, do they not? Food in fun shapes. Fairy tales and sparkles. All of that razzmatazz. It’s the experience they’re paying for, after all.”

“Is that advice free?”

“Is it?”

“Fine, fine.” You dig through your pocket and hand him the photo from earlier. “Your payment, good sir. A memento of me.”

Azul takes it from you, admires your effortlessly pretty smile, and then freezes. “Oh, I look positively dreadful!”

“Not at all. It adds character.”

“A horrid sort of character.”

You sidle up beside him, peering at the picture. “I like it. It’s a photo of an imperfect Azul.”

“What an ambiguous compliment.”

“I’m serious! It’s Azul when he’s not acting. I like imperfect Azul. He’s authentic. A real person.” You pat him on the shoulder. He stiffens, betraying his initial nonchalance. “Or maybe not. One day I’ll catch you off guard.”

“We’ll see.”

“One day…” Your attention is stolen when you catch sight of the group attempting to bunch together for a selfie. Offering Azul that same smile he’s admired ever since he saw it, you add, “Have a fun summer. Don’t be a stranger next year, okay?” And then you’re bounding across the lounge. “Wait for me! I want in, too!”

For the rest of the semester, Azul keeps the photo tucked away in his phone case.

I have time to mull over the pros and cons, he tells himself when he departs through the mirror, summer break at his fingertips.

ii. summer - maybe i’m just too good. maybe i’ll run away. maybe i’m over you. maybe i shouldn’t stay. maybe i just don’t care. maybe i talk too much.

It occurs to you, while sorting through the photos you’ve taken throughout this past school year, that there’s an absurd amount of Azul. Whether on his own or with others, he appears in more photos than anyone else. You wonder how that happened—how you managed to be there for so many of his moments, each one documented in photographic permanence.

Some of them are humorous. Azul looking unimpressed when you lifted your camera to capture him. Grim jumping into his arms to demand snacks. His glasses sitting crooked on his face. Some of them are endearing. Azul reading in a comfortable nook in the library. Azul smiling fondly at the lens during an alchemy lesson. Azul laughing after you cracked a joke during PE. Some of them are animated. Azul waving at you from across the courtyard. Azul rolling his eyes at a dull pun. Azul playfully blowing a kiss to the camera after you told him to do something memorable. Some are special. Azul in his birthday robes. Azul during that time Mostro Lounge became a butler café for one week. Azul on his last day of the semester, leveling the camera with a roguish smirk.

This one—the most recent and last photo taken of him—is especially important. It’s the conversation that prompted an unforgettable expression that fills you with butterflies whenever you recall it.

“I think you’ll miss me,” you told him, elbowing him for good measure.

“I think I will,” he replied, his lips curling.

Unequipped to deliver a witty retort, you could only gawk.

“Don’t tell me that’s all it takes to shock you into silence.” He chuckled, and there was that infamous smirk-grin—sitting so perfectly on his face, as if it was meant to be there for this very exchange. “You’re too easy, (Name). Where’s the challenge?”

Wordlessly, you raised your Ghost Camera and snapped his picture.

There are so many facets to his person that you’ve managed to catch on your camera—complex layers you wouldn’t have otherwise witnessed if you hadn’t spent so much time around him.

Now you realize why you have an abundance of Azul photos.

We sure hung out a lot this year, and every time I had my camera…

Is he your muse? Is he just naturally photogenic? He fits into plenty of backgrounds, but it’s never the scenery that fascinates and bewitches. It’s always his expression, his body language, his emotions. And the reason all of these photos are so important is because this is an Azul who is comfortable enough to show these sides to you. An Azul who wants you to document his best and his worst, his beautiful and his ugly, his silly and his serious.

Sitting at your desk, thumbing through stacks of photos, you know he’s more than a muse. As you watch Azul move in various pictures, you wonder what he’s doing. It’s only a month into summer, but everything feels so slow. Campus has cleared out, and with it the lounge has closed for the season. You’re certain he still has his ways of making profit and spreading word of its wonders. Azul isn’t foolish. He’s always working an angle. Endlessly clever and stubbornly ambitious.

Does he miss me, too? you think, running your finger over his smiling face. Or was that just something he said to get a reaction?

Just then, a gut-wrenching thought lodges itself deep: Are we even friends? What if he thinks I’m a nuisance? Maybe he’s just tolerating me and all this time I’ve been delusional.

You glimpse the photos again, watching Azul laugh soundlessly in an animated loop. What am I to you, Azul?

As if on cue, having sensed your sadness, arms wrap around you from behind. For a second you think it’s Grim, but then you see distinctly human hands clasping together. You whirl, startled out of your skin, to find Azul Ashengrotto standing there.

“Wha… What?”

He’s…here. Azul is standing in your bedroom.

You blink once and he remains. You blink twice and he’s still there, gazing down at you with soft, smiling features.

“Hello to you as well.”

“Hey…?” You pat his cheek and flinch away. “Oh, you’re real!”

“Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be?” Chuckling, he withdraws and moves to stand at your deskside. “I’m wounded. To think you would forget me just like that. And I thought I was plenty memorable.” He blows you a mock kiss then, and that’s when it finally strikes you.

This isn’t your Azul. This is an Azul from your photos.

How is this even possible? you think, scrambling to find which picture—which memory—he’s from. In doing so, you remember a particularly unique fact about the Ghost Camera. It’s a magical device that allows a photographer to capture slivers of their subject’s soul, which gives way to a special sort of connection known as a soulbond. The deeper the bond, the more likely the person in the photographs is to take on animation and, in some cases, slip out of the image that contains them.

So this is Azul from the time at which he was last photographed, you determine, holding up pictures to match his corporeal likeness to that of the scenery. The Ghost Camera is so cool…

“I missed you, you know.”

“Did you now?” He leans in close, curious. “How much?”

You push him away with a weak scoff. This isn’t good for your heart. Any closer and you might say something you’ll come to regret.

“Not as much as you think.”

“Is that so?” His gaze pans over to the pile of photos on your desk. “And these photos are simply here for convenience?”

“D-Don’t worry about it! Summer project. You wouldn’t get it.”

He flashes his teeth at you in a bright, competitive grin. “Try me.”

“You’re so nosy. Don’t you get tired of prying?”

“Not in the slightest.” He leans against the desk, his arms folding casually over his chest. “That’s besides the point. You’re avoiding the subject at hand.”

You turn in your chair and open your mouth to reply—why are you so invested in this?—but a better idea crops up. Meeting his cerulean stare with fierce, fiery eyes, you challenge him: “If it matters so much to you, I could be convinced to share my plans for the small price of one kiss. A real kiss. Not that fake one from before.”

Azul blinks back at you, a smirk crawling onto his face. “Is that all you desire?”

“What do you mean by—”

Your question is cut off when another set of arms embraces you from behind. Warm, soft lips press against your cheek; his breath tickles your ear.

“Are two not better than one?”

With a yelp, you jerk back so fast that you almost fall out of your chair. Standing there, looking very proud of himself, is another Azul. But this one, unlike Dorm Azul, is dressed in his school uniform. A very helpful distinction.

“D-Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

It’s the only coherent sentence you can manage. Your mind is a panicked muddle: I can’t believe it. Two Azuls. Am I dreaming? This is definitely a dream, right? There’s no way he’d kiss me on the…

You slap your hand over your cheek, gasping. “Y-You kissed me?!”

“Is that not the price you wanted me to pay?” School Azul asks, one brow raised as if daring you to deny that fact.

Dorm Azul’s fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze towards him. “Unless you’d like to raise the price…”

You swallow thickly. This can’t be happening.

“Of course, in raising the price, it’s expected you raise the value of the information you’re willing to divulge,” School Azul adds with a chuckle. “Is that not fair?”

You shrink under both of their insistent stares. “W-Why do you even wanna know?”

“Why not? Any information is good information so long as it’s useful.”

You scoff, but it comes out choked and shy. “I… I’m going to use these photos to put together a present for you. I know your birthday’s so far away, but I’m getting a head start.”

“And this present would entail…?”

You click your tongue at him. “I already paid my half for that kiss. No more.”

“Aah, is that right?” Dorm Azul leans in, kissing dangerously close to your lips. You reach up to touch the corner of your mouth after he’s pulled away. “How much for the full story?”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

School Azul rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you up from your seat. This proximity allows you to feel his hair as it brushes against your face. Dorm Azul closes the distance as if it’s second nature, and now you’re sandwiched between the both of them.

Your heart stumbles in your chest. He’s quite literally surrounding you, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

“A very valid question.” Dorm Azul glances coyly at School Azul. “What do you think, Me?”

“Will we be enough for you, (Name)?” he purrs, rubbing slow circles into your hips.

You’re dizzy in their arms, your entire body warming with anticipation and embarrassment alike. Is it okay to be selfish? Even though this isn’t technically Azul—just mere memories of him—it seems so real. He’s holding you, touching you, reaching for you…

“Hmm. Two does seem to be a bit much.”

“Let’s call it a holiday and say it’s seasonal spoiling.”

“A gift for the summer.”

“Do open the window to let in the breeze. The heat is prone to making one feel rather…stuffy.”

They’re doing this on purpose. Maybe another Azul is more troublesome than I once thought. I can only handle so much charm!

Shrugging off self-doubt, you grab Dorm Azul by his lapels and yank him towards you, sealing the space that once separated your mouths in a hungry kiss. He melts against you, eyes fluttering shut. It’s quick and starved, the way you chase each other’s lips. You cling to him before you can fall, arms looped around his neck to keep him near.

Fully clothed and achingly desperate, you loathe the unbearable heat, but nothing is more molten than the space between your thighs.

Meanwhile, School Azul takes his sweet time running his hands along your sides, up the length of your body until he reaches your chest. With his form pinned to yours, you can feel his erection pressing against your ass. Rather shamelessly, he rolls his hips. You’re pushed up against Dorm Azul next, who takes hold of your hand and guides it to the strain in his slacks. He pulls away briefly to allow School Azul to slide your shirt up and over your head.

“Were you anticipating this?” he whispers, taking hold of your breasts.

“No way,” you protest between kisses. “Not… No. K-Keep dreaming. It’s too much trouble to wear one in the summer. Gets hot and—”

Dorm Azul captures your lips in another ravenous smooch, and the objection dies in your throat.

“There’s no need for these pesky articles where I’m from,” School Azul murmurs. He presses kisses into your bare shoulder, humming his very obvious delight. “You’d have already been laid out beneath me if that were the case… Soft and sweet, all mine to love at the bottom of the sea…”

“Humans have so many steps,” Dorm Azul laments, tutting.

“And merfolk don’t?” You try to sound smart with your question, but it comes out breathless when your nipple’s twisted between two fingers. “Oh…”

“Not when it comes to clothing. The very concept doesn’t exist beneath the waves.”

“You could visit sometime and see for yourself. I’ll welcome you with open arms.” Dorm Azul rests his forehead against yours. “And maybe then you’ll find yourself so taken with my home that you’ll want to stay.”

“A tempting offer.”

“But?” he prompts, his gaze falling to your hand as you palm him through his pants. He inhales a shaky breath.

“What’s stopping you?” the other Azul asks, his voice muffled in your skin.

“Firstly, I’m not a mer.”

“My dear, that’s nothing. Have you forgotten my proficiency in potionology?”

“And how much will one of your potions cost? I’d love to visit, but if it’s going to bankrupt me—”

“For you, a single kiss is all I require.”

“Isn’t that awfully cheap?”

Dorm Azul chuckles at this back-and-forth. “You say that as if you want me to charge an exorbitant amount.”

Glaring, you squeeze him out of revenge. His laughter comes out choked next, replaced with a needy whimper. Unbelievable.

“Maybe I do.”

“I would be careful with those words, dearest. I might take them to heart.”

He ruts against your hand, panting into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and wet, all tongue and saliva. You move on instinct, grabbing at his shoulders when you’re taken to bed next. Both Azuls peer down at you from where they kneel on either side of you. They issue you hazy, lust-drunk smiles. Hands wander, feeling every inch you have to offer. You shut your eyes and submit to titillating touches.

“You really did miss me,” School Azul remarks when his fingers slip into your shorts to rub you through your sodden panties. Your breath hitches, a strangled whine squeezed from your throat, and he laughs. “I missed you, too.”

“I really like you,” you blurt, chest heaving with your every breath. He squeezes your clit to draw another sinful groan from you. “I think—Azul, you’re so—I think you’re so amazing… I wish we talked more. The year—aah… It went by so fast.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“I wanna know you—the real you. I wanna know what Azul’s like when he’s comfortable and when he’s sad and when he’s happy. I wanna—ooh! Please… Please, Azul…” You grab fistfuls of the sheets, arching up towards the hands that caress your stomach lovingly. “I just want you.”

“And you’ll have me,” he—you’re not sure which—promises, leaning over to kiss you. It’s soulful passion, lust bleeding into love. Your cries are lost on his lips when you come undone beneath him, buoyant on a mellow wave.

You sense the loss before you see it.

Half-nude and gasping for breath, you stare up at the ceiling. Your bedroom is empty. All that remains of the Azuls are the animated memories imprinted on the photographs.

“I’m losing my mind…” you mutter, draping your arm over your eyes.

Please let summer pass quickly.

iii. winter - maybe all we are is fools with hearts that tried too hard. and maybe that’s just fine as long as you’re here in my arms.

Azul paces restlessly in his VIP room. It’s been months since he’s seen you, but his heart hasn’t swayed in the slightest. If anything, he’s only grown fonder in the time spent apart. Absence… What a bothersome thing.

“You’re gonna walk yourself into the floor, y’know. Your shoes’ll be all worn out by the time you’re done.”

“I’m aware,” Azul quips, uncharacteristically jittery. He turns towards Floyd. “Do I look presentable? Is anything crooked or misplaced? How about my hair?”

“You’re fine.” At Azul’s disbelieving glower, Floyd pouts. “I mean it. Shrimpy’s gonna like it either way.”

He bristles, defensive. “Who said anything about (Name)?”

“No one, but you’re thinkin’ it.”

“I… T-That’s besides the point! It doesn’t matter. She’s only here because I invited her. Common courtesy and all that.”

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

Azul frowns at the vault set into the wall behind his desk. If only he could pack all of his fears in there and lock them away for good. Then he could continue masquerading as someone fearless and confident. With winter having descended upon campus, bringing with it layers of fluffy, glittering snow, and the cultural festival having concluded successfully, Azul finds himself lost.

This is the last birthday he’ll celebrate at Night Raven College and, subsequently, the last February he’ll spend with you. He’s running out of time.

“Invitation or not, Shrimpy’ll always wish you a happy birthday. S’not like her to forget. Plus, she cares about ya.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

Azul’s tone is so sharp that Floyd raises his hands in defense. “Guess not.”

“What would you do?” He inhales a wobbly breath. “If you were in my shoes…”

Floyd scratches the back of his neck, contemplative. “Dunno. Guess I’d wait for the right moment and say somethin’ to get it outta my system.”

Azul sighs. “Jade said something similar.”

“He ain’t wrong.”

“I’m not prepared.”

“No one is.” Floyd smiles at Azul’s baffled expression. “C’mon, Azul, you can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to. S’just how it is.”

“Even so, it’s better to know all viable routes and options before diving into uncharted waters.”

“That’s just it. You can’t know. S’kinda the whole point, ain’t it?”

“I can’t do it,” he decides, the words heavy on his tongue. “I’d rather accept my future failure now than continue working towards it.”

“Like a coward.”

“Far from it! In business, that’s known as rescission. It is a completely valid method of—”

“You ever realize your feelings and business are two separate things? Not everything’s gotta be about business.”

Azul stands there, nonplussed.

Floyd makes for the door, stopping only to add, “Your fly’s unzipped, by the way.”

“You—” He scrambles to check. Much to his relief, it’s not. “Honestly… That’s not even funny.”

He smooths nonexistent wrinkles, schools his expression into something brave, and exhales slowly. I’m not going to ruin an occasion as grand as this with a half-baked confession.

Having made up his mind, he steps through the door out into the bustling lounge. Like clockwork, all eyes turn to him. He searches the crowd for you, hopeful. But before he can locate you, party poppers resound with a loud bang. Confetti trickles down like colorful rainfall, landing on his suit and getting stuck in his hair.

“Happy birthday, Azul!”

He wants to run and hide. He wants to dive into the sea and seek solace in his favorite octopus pot. He wants to bury himself in the sand and disappear.

Instead, he smiles and spreads his arms like he’s just pulled off an astounding magic trick. “Why, thank you, everyone! I’m pleased you could make it. Do enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight.”

Cheers erupt amongst the partygoers, but they might as well be on a completely different island. Azul turns, hoping to make his rounds and escape, but Kalim intercepts him. Jamil isn’t far behind.

“Azul, happy birthday!” Kalim smiles just as Jamil catches up.

He passes two expertly wrapped gifts into Azul’s empty hands. “On behalf of Kalim and myself, thank you for the invitation.”

“Yeah, super thanks! It’s been so much fun. I hope you’ll like your gift, but if you don’t just let me know and I’ll get you something else. Whatever you want! You deserve it on your special day.”

Azul looks past him, not in the mood to entertain. “Yes, of course. It’s not a problem.”

Jamil raises a brow, but then it clicks. “(Name) wanted me to pass on her regards.”

As expected, that draws his attention. “Why’s that?”

“She wasn’t sure if she’d get to see you on your big, busy day.” Jamil eyes Azul knowingly.

Kalim nods. “We ran into her on the way here, but she said to go on without her.”

Azul doesn’t like the way they’re both looking at him—as if they’re in on some joke he’s not currently aware of.

“Well,” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “her regards are well-received.”

“You’re not going to meet her?”

“It’s my big, busy day, isn’t it? I’m afraid she’ll have to catch me at her earliest convenience.” Azul, gifts in hand, smiles. “Please do enjoy the party, you two. Thank you again for your thoughtful gifts and birthday wishes.”

On his way to the table designed for gifts, Azul spots Riddle, Silver, and Ruggie. They stand off to the side, chatting amongst themselves. He supposes, if anything, he might as well say hello. Setting the gifts down, Azul struts over.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I do hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

“You know it. Parties at Octavinelle are always somethin’ else,” Ruggie says. Unsurprisingly, he’s done well to fix himself a plate and more. With him around Azul doesn’t have to fret over food waste.

“Your presentation at the cultural festival was very informative, if I may say so,” Riddle commends, sipping his fizzy beverage.

“As was yours.” Azul’s smile tightens. For some reason, he’s always felt the need to walk on eggshells around Riddle. And for good reason, too! Whatever Azul seems to accomplish, no matter how lofty a feat, Riddle seems to do better. “I’m sure you’ve had quite the rewarding experience yourself.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s good timing,” Silver notes, and all eyes drift towards him. Azul perks up. Timing. He needs more of that. “Your birthday came right after the festival. It’s almost like celebrating your hard work and another healthy year all in one.”

“Never thought about it that way. Guess it makes sense when you put it like that.” Ruggie grins cheekily. “Lucky you, Azul.”

“I wouldn’t call it luck. The dates just happened to align… Either way, thank you, Silver. I’m pleased you can look at it with such inspiring positivity.”

“You catch up with (Name) yet?”

“No? Am I meant to?”

“Just asking.” Ruggie shrugs. “She had me run a few errands for her yesterday. Said it was all for your sake, but when I tried to get more info outta her she told me I’d have to wait for ‘the big reveal’—whatever that is.”

Now everyone’s looking at him. Azul feels small.

“With how often I’ve heard her name tonight, I’d think she’s the one with the birthday.”

“Is she really so popular today? Odd. I haven’t had the chance to greet her,” Riddle muses.

“I thought I saw her this afternoon.” Silver furrows his brow, uncertain. “She seems busy.”

“Which is precisely why I can’t fathom the insistence that I ought to have met with her already.”

Ruggie tilts his head. “That the only reason?”

Just how many people are in on this asinine joke? More importantly, which eel is he going to have to wring out for spilling a not-so-secret secret?

Azul realizes his mask is slipping and so he repairs it expertly. If Ruggie takes notice of this, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s bad manners to show up late to a party. I’m sure one of us will agree.”

Riddle nods, but his words are surprisingly lenient. “Life happens. I suppose we can’t fault (Name) entirely.”

“She’ll make it. I’m sure she will. Don’t worry, Azul,” Silver reassures.

He’s not. He won’t. He isn’t.

“If the world was ending tomorrow,” Ruggie says, sliding into a new subject with practiced finesse, “what would you all do?”

“The end of the world…” Riddle frowns. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s a hypothetical. Anything’s possible.”

Silver hums thoughtfully. “I’d spend what time I have left with my loved ones.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna go running back to Briar Valley to protect Malleus?”

“As a guard it’s my duty, but fighting against the inevitable would be pointless.” Silver looks to the rest of them for their input. “If the world is ending and there’s nothing a guard like myself can do to prevent it, then I can only offer what’s left of my time.”

“So companionship. Okay, good to know. What about you, Riddle?”

He huffs. “I refuse to let the world end before I’ve accomplished my goals.”

“Yikes. You academic types don’t rest, do you?”

“No, no, it’s true,” Azul pipes up. “I agree. Why am I going to let the world get in the way of my plans?”

“So both of you are going to resist it until the very end?”

“You said anything can happen in a hypothetical, yes?” Riddle smirks. “In my hypothetical the world says it’ll end tomorrow, but it never does. It keeps saying so like it’s a faulty forecast. The end of the world is scheduled for next week, the week after, three weeks from now. By then, a year’s passed and the world still hasn’t ended.”

Ruggie groans. “That defeats the whole purpose of my question. You can’t give yourself more time when it’s already so limited.”

“Anything is possible if you know what you’re working with,” Azul adds, nodding alongside Riddle. “I quite like this hypothetical.”

“Leave it to the honors students to logic it out and make it more complicated than it needs to be…”

“You wouldn’t spend it with your loved ones?” Silver asks, but it appears as if the question is directed entirely at Azul. “I think I’d want to tell them the things I never got to say. Things I put off saying… Would you do that, too, Azul?”

“I…” He shuts his mouth and then opens it. “I’m not sure what I could possibly say within such a limited timeframe.”

“It doesn’t have to be complex.”

“I guess a good, old ‘love you lots’ is better than nothing,” Ruggie says.

Azul stops short. The end of the world. Time. Loss. Loved ones.

Time! He’s running out of time!

“Well, this was quite the lively discussion, but I’m afraid I’ll have to excuse myself now. There are a few more people I must meet.” Azul smiles gratefully at the three of them. They wish him another happy birthday before he finally departs, his heart in his throat.

He’s running out of time.

Logically, Azul knows the feeling doesn’t reflect his reality. It’s not as if he has to confess by the end of the school year. Logically, he has his entire life to confess. But who’s to say you’ll stay in his life after he graduates? You might be gone by the time he finally finds the right words, the right time, the right circumstance.

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Floyd’s right. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he does it. There’s no way to know what lies in those uncharted waters until he dives in. There’s no way to know where your heart lies until he confesses.

The world isn’t going to end tomorrow, but if he doesn’t say what he needs to before graduation he’ll never have another chance. And then that world—the world contained within NRC’s boundaries—will implode and that will be that.

At that very moment, a camera flashes. He spins around to search the photographer out and—

There you are, striding through throngs of people to reach him. There you are, dressed for the occasion. There you are, wearing that pretty smile he sees in his dreams.

“Happy birthday!” You turn the photo towards him for his viewing pleasure. It’s of him, staring off into space. He looks so stone-faced with his knitted brows and pursed lips. “Sorry about showing up late. I had to add the finishing touches to your present.”

You hand it to him. The amateur wrapping job makes the gift appear more lumpy than it actually is. It’s heavy like a textbook. Shaped as such, too. Azul wonders what its contents could be. Perhaps something relating to economics? A novel in a particular genre?

“Thank you very much. I’ll take good care of both.” He tucks the picture into his breastpocket, battling the urge to tear into your gift now. He needs to know. What did you get him? What could it possibly be? “I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Even if the world was ending?”

“Uh… What?”

“Ah, never mind that. It was simply a lingering thought from a previous conversation.”

“That’s so grim! And on your birthday, no less.”

Azul waves his hand through the air. A playful smile draws his lips apart. “Can you believe Riddle said he’d make the apocalypse wait on his behalf?”

“Seriously?” You snort, eyes brightening with amusement. “Even the apocalypse gets a schedule…”

He barks out a laugh. “Insanity, isn’t it?”

“Maybe for us, but definitely not for Riddle.” You glance at him. “What about you? What does Azul Ashengrotto’s last day look like?”

He intends to answer with something prepackaged: Awash in success until the very end!

“Alone.”

“Really? No friends or family by your side?”

“Would that make it better? Perhaps being surrounded by others only intensifies the dread.”

There’s some sort of symbolism in coming into the world alone and going out the same. Azul just can’t quite phrase it eloquently.

“Maybe there’s no right answer. Maybe there’s not any comfort in it either.” You run your fingers over the edges of your Ghost Camera. “We can’t know what lies ahead until we’re there. Maybe that’s why we spend so much time theorizing.”

“Quite the insightful judgment.”

“For the record, I wouldn’t mind being your plus-one for the end of the world.”

“I’m flattered.” He grins. “I shall be yours in return.”

“No strings attached?”

“All the strings attached. So many,” he exaggerates.

“No fair!”

Silence fills in the cracks. You stand side by side, drinking in Mostro Lounge’s upbeat atmosphere. After some time, you nudge him.

“Look at us, speaking about all of these sad things. It’s your birthday, not a funeral!”

He wonders if now’s a good time. Should he lighten the mood and confess? But wouldn’t that just make it even more serious and somber? Is there ever going to be an opportune moment?

You can plan all you want, but you know life’s never gonna go the way you want it to.

Surprises. Spontaneity. Luck. All things left to chance. All things Azul attempts to anticipate. He thinks back on the many plans and what-ifs he calculated and wonders if it was worth it.

“(Name), I just wanted to say—” He stops himself, his fingers curling around the gift cradled in his arms. I love you and I want you in my life. I don’t want the world to end here with you and me. I want to know what lies beyond and experience it with you—the good and the bad. Everything. “I just wanted to thank you.”

For being my friend. For being yourself. For existing in the same world as me, even if it feels like we’re doomed to be islands apart.

“What’s this? Genuine thanks? Am I going to find an anemone on my head next?”

“That can be arranged. Isn’t it tradition to grant the person of the hour one birthday favor?”

“Hah! You wish!”

I do. I really do.

The party wears on into the night. Azul repeats the same mantra as before: I have time.

When he’s in his room, gifts piled high on his desk, he sits back in his seat and carefully unwraps yours. It’s a book, leather-bound and regal. It looks expensive. While attempting to approximate its value, he reads the title spelled out with alphabet stickers: My Azul. His brow furrows. Just what are you playing at here?

Cautiously, he opens the book to the first page. Your writing winks back at him: Happy birthday, Azul! This is my gift to you. It’s a chronological journal of your school life! :D People often say it’s difficult to picture themselves through the eyes of others, so I wanted to show you what I see every time I look at you. I hope you’ll never forget just how important you are. If you ever do, open this book to remind yourself.

With love always,

(Name).

“Curious,” he mumbles, flipping the page. The layout reminds him of a scrapbook. You’ve decorated it with stickers and patterned tape, scrawled words in different colored inks. There are two photographs—each from Azul’s second year. He’d forgotten about these. That time it snowed so much the students had a snowball fight in the courtyard. That time an alchemy accident (courtesy of Grim) led to Azul speaking in cat for the rest of the day.

In the center, a small blurb reads: My Azul is terrifyingly good at making snowballs within record time, just as he’s terrifyingly good at marketing them at all the right moments. My team was totally losing. Leave it to Azul to swoop in when he knows it’s advantageous… He’s intelligent and passionate. Even when mistakes occur, he works through them effortlessly. (Although it was nice having Catzul for a day!)

He rolls his eyes at that last bit.

The next page displays photos in much the same fashion. You’ve clearly put lots of effort and thought into each arrangement. Azul feels like he’s walking through a museum with every page. Like the first, the rest of the pages that follow include photographs of himself (some with others and some with you) and a short paragraph describing your observations.

His eyes are on the verge of a typhoon as he soaks in every sugared sentence.

My Azul is strong. My Azul is silly. My Azul has the best laugh. My Azul is great at bargaining. My Azul is awkward. My Azul is clumsy (in the best ways). My Azul is resourceful. My Azul makes the best study guides (thank you!!!!). My Azul is a hero. My Azul never gives up. My Azul is a talented mage. My Azul is…

All of these things he’s never heard anyone acknowledge before—have you always seen him in this way? Is this truly what he’s like through your eyes? He finds that hard to believe, and yet there he is on the page, winking at the camera or posing in an outfit from one of the many school trips he’s attended. You’ve added little comments and doodles in the margins and corners. Azul smiles as he reads them.

Noble Bell College sure was something! I’d like to visit again one day…

Vargas Camp was exhausting! I still can’t believe we survived.

Halloween! I want to experience it in the Coral Sea one day. But maybe just for one night. An endless Halloween is too much…

The ceremonial robes are very pretty. They’re so different from the uniforms in my world.

Happy Beans Day! Azul prepares all year for this. That level of commitment is impressive!

Azul reaches the end with watery eyes. He sniffles, so enveloped in a love he’s never felt from any friend before. You care. You truly, honestly care. It’s clear in each and every page—in the words you’ve written. You care about him.

The final page has a blank space the rough shape and size of a photograph. For some reason he understands what he’s meant to do. He slides the photograph you gave him all that time ago from his phone case and pastes it to the space. And then he reads what’s written below.

My Azul keeps all of these walls up in order to protect himself. He’s sensitive and self-conscious. He likes to uphold a perfect image at all times. He likes to keep his weaknesses hidden, his cards close. But then he’s also funny. He’s sincere and gentle. He’s sweet. He’s someone I admire from all sides, good and bad. Even when he’s scheming, even when he’s acting, he’s still Azul. My camera’s captured so many of his moments, which is very apparent now that you’ve made it to the end. But I’m happy to have documented these moments because they showcase everything that makes my Azul himself.

My Azul has never looked “positively dreadful” to my camera. Even on the days where he feels like nothing, my Azul is everything to me. I will always think so.

He’s crying. He can’t help it.

Azul sits there and he sobs.

He sobs until his throat is dry, until his eyes are blotchy and red. He sobs until he can’t anymore.

Holding the book close to his chest, he wonders how he ever managed to befriend someone like you.

An angel. That’s what you are.

An angelfish.

And he’s Azul. Your Azul.

iv. spring - but, baby, i’ll be there. yeah, baby, i’ll be there. it’s been a little hard. i’ve been a little tough. but maybe all along i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid. i’m afraid, i’m afraid, i’m afraid.

The air is sweet with the scent of blossoming flowers, thick with pollen. Azul’s chest is light, swelling with excitement. A new chapter is about to begin. In just a few hours he’ll graduate along with the rest of his peers and then it’s off to start another story. For Azul, this is just a continuation of something already so prolific.

He strolls past The Great Seven, pausing briefly to admire the Sea Witch in all of her tentacular glory.

“With this weather, it’s almost difficult to imagine they called for rain.” Jade peers up at the sun, shielding its obtrusive rays with one hand.

“They’re always gettin’ it wrong,” Floyd says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “So annoying. I was hopin’ it’d rain and then they’d cancel.”

“Unlikely. There are always contingency plans put in place when it comes to an event as momentous as graduation.”

“Bleh. Lame. I wanna skip. I hate bein’ in those stuffy clothes, packed in close like a sardine.”

“If you’re absent, you won’t receive your diploma.”

“What a scam.”

Jade simply smiles. Ironic.

Azul turns around to look at them. “Four years… Gone in a blink. Will either of you miss it?”

“It was certainly enjoyable. I admit there are some aspects I’ll miss quite fiercely.”

“Guess it’ll be a bummer not seein’ everyone all the time. I’m gonna miss playing with Baby Seal and Shrimpy.”

“I’ll miss them, too.” Azul sighs. “(Name) especially…”

“You still haven’t told her?” Floyd raises a brow. “You’re gonna leave without sayin’ a word?”

“That does seem to be the plan,” Jade answers.

“I… I’ve thought it over.” He clears his throat. No time for waterworks. He needs to be in top shape if he’s to deliver the opening speech as Salutatorian. Riddle took first place, which wasn’t a shock to anyone. He always did say he’d make Valedictorian no matter what. Azul had been keen to fight him for it, even if it became clear he’d never surpass him. Second place is irksome, but it has its merits. Although he isn’t going to settle with just that! He’ll get first place one of these days. “We’re better off friends.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that enough?”

“Is what enough?”

“Her friendship.”

“It’ll have to be.” Azul’s gaze glazes over.

He’s run out of time, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that was meant to be.

“Well, let’s not dwell on it any further!” He claps his hands and turns swiftly on his heel. “There’s still work to be done.”

Jade and Floyd exchange furtive glances. They know as well as he does that he’s lying.

But maybe that was also meant to be.

— — —

Crowley tasked you with snapping photos for NRC’s yearbook. “Because I am a paragon of magnanimity,” he said, “I am entrusting this very important task to you once more. Take lots of pictures! Don’t miss a single moment!”

You do just that, photographing the graduates as they wait in a room behind the stage, chattering eagerly amongst themselves. You raise your camera to document Azul when he stands at the podium to give his salutation speech. You do the same for Riddle when it’s his turn. The ceremony is grand, ballooning with emotion. You look on with a cheek-splitting smile, proud of every student who crosses the stage. It’s bittersweet. The friends you made when you were enrolled as a first year are now moving on in life.

Time flies. What a whirlwind year it’s been.

When it’s Azul’s turn and he goes down the line to shake the hands of his professors and Crowley, you wave at him from your place in the audience. He meets your eyes from where he stands, and he smiles.

Your camera catches that moment in perfect permanence.

By the end of it all, your face hurts from smiling, your throat sore from cheering, your hands raw from clapping. Grim grumbles at you to knock it off with the sun shower, your tears dampening his fur. You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “I’m happy for them. It’s a good day.”

He forces his head under your palm, allowing you to pet him and cry through it in peace. He doesn’t say anything. You don’t need him to.

While the graduates meet up with their family and friends, you make your rounds. Kalim introduces you to his parents and siblings—all thirty-something of them. You’re in a daze by the time introductions are finished, and Jamil leans over to whisper, “No need to commit everyone to memory.”

“Have you talked to Azul yet?” Kalim asks after everything has settled down.

You shake your head. “Why? What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask. I know the Headmage wants you to take lots of pictures.”

“We shouldn’t keep you any longer than we already have,” Jamil adds with a curt nod.

You smile. “Congrats, both of you. Good luck.”

“We gotta keep in touch. Promise me you’ll call whenever you can. You’re always welcome to visit, too! Oh, I’ll go check with my parents now! I’m sure they’ll say yes!” Kalim bounds off in their direction.

“Just let me know well in advance. That way I can plan for proper accommodations,” Jamil says, following Kalim with sharp eyes.

“I’ll do that.” You turn to leave and then stop. “I hope you get your vacation one day, Jamil.”

He stares at you, mystified, before a gentle smile softens on his face. “One day,” he echoes. “I hope you’ll find your way home.”

“One day.”

The two of you share a final look before going your separate ways.

Surrounded in such an energetic environment, talking to and meeting families, you find yourself longing for your loved ones. So much time has passed. You wonder how they’re doing. Are they well? Are they worried?

“Aah, it’s Shrimpy!” Floyd crashes into you with so much force you nearly topple. He steadies you with a giggle. “Where’s Baby Seal?”

“Left to gorge on refreshments. Hey, since you’re here, can I get your picture?”

“Course you can.”

Detaching himself, he poses for you. You take a few photos, mirroring his good mood.

“Are your parents around?”

“Mhm!”

“Seriously? They came?”

“Course they did.”

“Did they take transformation potions?”

Floyd nods. “Pops does land business sometimes, so he’s used to it. Mama doesn’t leave home much. She’s real bad at walking on her feet.”

“Ah, got it.”

Floyd grins down at you. “You wanna meet ’em?”

“Maybe later… I’ve gotta keep taking photos.”

“I gotcha. Make sure to snap a few of Azul.”

“Right! Speaking of him, where is he? I’ve spoken to everyone but him.”

Floyd peers out across a sea of faces, scanning each one like a predator sizing up his next meal. “He’s avoidin’ ya.”

“What? Why?”

“Why don’tcha ask him when you see him? Bet he’ll have a fun answer for ya.”

You would, if only you could find him. As the afternoon wears on, you begin to lose hope. If he’s truly hiding from you, he’s doing a great job of it. After what feels like hours of walking in aimless circles, you take pause to consider the situation. If you were Azul and you wanted to hide away for a little while, where would you go?

To someplace familiar. To someplace comfortable. To someplace quiet.

He’s pacing in front of Ramshackle when you arrive. You open the gate and step through, taking each step one at a time. Once you’re within a close enough proximity, you make your presence known.

“Azul?”

He startles and whips around. As soon as he sees you, he lurches forward, intending to leave.

You block his path. “Hey, wait! What gives? I’ve been looking all over for you. Floyd told me you’re avoiding me.”

“Floyd doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“But I’m sure you do. So what’s up?”

“It’s…nothing. I merely wanted to tour campus one last time.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything? I would’ve come with you!” You attempt to elbow him, but he side-steps you. “Uh, right…”

“Ah, sorry. I… Admittedly, there’s quite a lot on my mind.”

“I get it. Congrats, by the way. Your speech was really good.”

“I’m pleased you think so.”

This…isn’t Azul, you realize, a frown flickering on your face. At least not the Azul I usually see.

“I got to meet all of Kalim’s siblings.”

“Did you? All of them?”

“Every. Single. One. His family’s huge!”

An uncomfortable silence festers between the two of you. You glance at your camera and then at Azul.

“Can you believe that Crowley? He wanted me to take all of these pictures, but there were dozens of professionals who did it much better than me! What was even the point?”

“Terrible, isn’t it? A job as good as the one you do deserves proper payment.”

“Exactly! My services aren’t free.”

Azul smiles, a wistful gloss to his gaze. You can see the cogs turning behind his eyes—can see the calculation as it comes to fruition.

“You can cry. I won’t judge.”

“I’m not going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s normal, Azul.”

He inhales a deep breath, holds it for three seconds, and then releases. When he looks at you next, his expression is hard and riddled with subdued anxiety. A zephyr blows between you, rustling the leaves in the trees, raking through the grass, dragging wispy fingers through your clothes and hair. The quiet expands and stretches wide.

Azul opens his mouth, shuts it, and sighs. A forlorn resignation flits over his countenance.

“I—” he swallows hard and then it just bursts free, the admission he’s kept secret for so long— “I love you.”

Another breeze combs through the premises. Your gasp is swept away with it.

“I’ve loved you for two years. And I… I wanted to tell you so many times in the past, but I never could. I was scared and I ran away. I still am! The truth is that I’m afraid of losing you. I’m afraid of messing up in front of you and looking like a fool. I’m afraid of showing you the parts of myself I hate most. I’m even afraid of that phrase—of saying it because it terrifies me to think, in some distant world, it might be reciprocated. But I have to say it, and I want you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I have to tell you.”

You gape at him, utterly speechless. The longer you do so, the more flustered he becomes.

“Y-You’re free to think it’s gross or weird. I understand I’m not the most ideal candidate, but I…” He wrings his hands, exhaling shakily. “I think you’re everything. My whole world.”

There are so many things you want to say. So, so many. But they’re all jumbled, carried along like flowers floating down a stream in spring. You close the gap, taking his hands in yours, and you kiss him.

Azul startles, squeaking against your lips. It takes a minute for him to find his rhythm, but soon he’s wilting against you, his body relaxed. You taste saliva and salt—tears. When you pull back, he’s crying.

“I think you’re the most ideal candidate. I’ve always thought so.” You cradle his cheek in a warm hand.

A sob trembles through him. “I never thought—you’re just so… I couldn’t have imagined…”

“That I’d like you?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” “Because…”

“I’ve always liked you, Azul. I’d never lie about that. Your birthday gift—those are my honest opinions.”

“Every one of them?”

“Each and every one.”

He sniffles weakly, drying his eyes with the heel of his palm.

Instinctively, you reach for your camera. And then you hesitate. You’ve always stood behind the protective lens of your trusty Ghost Camera, assuming the role of photographer in order to remain in his orbit. But now you’d like to try putting the camera aside and documenting Azul’s moments with your own two eyes.

He loves me.

You just manage to shut the front door before you’re pulling him flush against you. He presses you up against the wall in the foyer, a knee slotting between your legs. You melt in mutual merriment, grabbing at every part of him. Your uniform blouse is ripped open in a hurry. You try to handle his graduation robes with caution, appreciating expensive embroidery, but vehemence gets the better of you. It’s a wild rush. Hot and panting, you’re shuddering in carnal delight, every nerve alight. When he presses up against you next, half-dressed and hazy with an addictive adoration, you can feel the result of your exploratory touches straining for release.

“Upstairs,” you mumble against his mouth, sweating out of your skin.

You fall into bed as one, tangled around each other. Azul trails kisses up the expanse of your stomach, working you open on skillful fingers. You shiver beneath him, your heart pounding in your ribs.

“I love you.” A kiss to your belly.

“I love you.” A kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“I love you.” A kiss to your lips.

You love him just as intensely. 

He drags his fingers out next, admiring the slick coating them like it’s a valuable substance. You giggle, dizzy with delirium.

“Can I call you mine?”

You run your hands up and down his arms. “I’d like that.”

“Your boyfriend,” he murmurs, astonished. “I’m your boyfriend…”

“Mhm…” You sit up in bed and climb into his lap. Slowly, inch by inch, you lower yourself. He sucks in a breath through grit teeth. “And I’m—mmh—I’m your girlfriend.”

Azul whines into your mouth. His arms wrap around you to keep you firmly pinned to his body, and he bucks his hips up to meet you the rest of the way. Filled in such a way, connected so intimately, you breathe a satisfied sigh. You dig your nails into his shoulders. Every muscle slackens. It’s bliss, pure and perfect. The both of you mold to one another like sea meeting shore.

You grind down, chasing a mounting climax. “You’re the best—perfect. So perfect. Oh, I love you, Azul. I love you so much. I’ve always wanted to say it.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have no idea how fervently I’ve yearned for this—for you.”

You can’t possibly begin to imagine, but you can definitely relate. Weeks of silent pining, of hoping something might happen and you’d be able to confess without fear. Those days are behind you. Now you can know love in his arms and it isn’t so uncertain.

You lose yourselves in the sensations of sweet, soulful sex. He’s gentle like a spring breeze, dedicated like a devotee at your altar. You’re much the same, your moans just as plentiful. Just as loud. You’re wrapped in wonder when you look into his eyes and find the same amount of love reflected back.

I’m so happy I met you.

When he cums, he digs his fingers into your hips to drag you down and bury himself deeper inside. You unravel shortly after, your orgasm coaxed out by a few attentive massages to your clit. Your bodies, sticky and sweaty, stay connected even after you’ve come down from the clouds.

“Had I known, I would’ve said something sooner.” After catching his breath, Azul rests his head in the crook of your neck. “I regret it.”

“I don’t. Things happen when they happen.” You run your fingers through the tangled, silvery strands of his hair. It’s soft just like him. He leans into your touch and hums appreciatively. “I’m glad it happened when it did.”

“I’m glad I could say it. It would’ve eaten me alive if I’d left without telling you.”

“And are you still afraid?”

Azul places his hand over yours. “No, not anymore. The world ahead looks much clearer now.”

“Am I in it?”

He laughs. “More than that.”

“Oh?”

“You are my world.”

[morgana-larkin]

Omg I just got the randomest idea for a smut with Chessy, but would you be able to do a smut where Chessy catches the reader wearing one of her button up shirts with nothing but lingerie underneath and it turns Chessy on?

I love it!!! Omg I was so excited to write this when I first saw it. Chessy would so be turned on with her girlfriend wearing one of her shirts! I forgot to include Sammy in this but just pretend he’s at a friend’s house or something lol. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: ok I know I said the next prompt was Melissa angst and it was, but then got hit with writer’s block so I went to the next prompt which was this one. I’ll try again tomorrow but maybe you can request or send me some Mel angst stories to get some inspiration to my brain, lol.

Face The Consequences

Warnings: it’s basically porn with very little plot, Chessy and reader are horny af, public smut, fluff

Words: 3.47k

It was summertime and a great week to spend time outside as it’ll be sunny the whole time. So the Parker’s decide to go on a week-long camping trip, Saturday- Saturday.

Chessy immediately invited you over to stay for the entire week to which you immediately got packing and came right over and ran into the Parker’s as they were heading out.

“Oh hey y/n! How are you?” Nick said as soon as he saw you. Chessy introduced you all as the twins kept pestering her about meeting her girlfriend when Chessy told them she was in a relationship. You and Chessy have been going out for about 8 months now and it’s been wonderful.

“Hey Nick, I’m good. How are you?” You replied back.

“Good, we’re just about to head out for the week, camping. Now that the twins are done school. I had a feeling you already knew that though. Chess invited you over for the week?” He says and you nod. He looks and sees Elizabeth, the twins and Chessy walking over. “Well, have fun, and please, stick to her bed.” He says and your cheeks turn red.

“Hey y/n!” Elizabeth says to you.

“Hey Elizabeth.”

Hallie gasps when she sees you. “Y/n! You’re here!” She says excitedly.

“Hey Hal.” You say and you guys high five. “Ya I’m staying over for the week with Cheesy.” You tell them and Chessy comes over to you and she gives you a kiss.

“Hey you.” You tell Chessy with a smile.

“Hey beautiful.” Chessy says back to you and returns a smile of her own.

“Sounds like a fun time. No wonder you asked for the week off.” Elizabeth says. Elizabeth decided to open up her business in California while having a manager in London and she hired you to help her with the business here. Which is how you and Chessy met a year ago as you kept coming over to the house to finish up some work during the busy months for weddings. After you requested the week off, Elizabeth had a feeling why and decided to approve it and just close up for the week.

“Yep, thanks for approving it on short notice btw.” You told her.

“Not a problem. I figured with all the times you bailed me out of a tough moment, you deserve it.” She tells you and she puts the twins bags in the trunk. Chessy goes behind you and puts her arms around your waist and leans her chin on your shoulder.

“Awwww.” The twins tease and you scoff and roll your eyes playfully at them.

“Alright guys, everyone in. You two have fun.” Nick says, then Elizabeth and the twins get in the car. Chessy waves them off and then guides you in the house.

“Alright, what are we going to do first?” You ask Chessy and she turns to face you, cups your cheeks and pulls you in for a long kiss.

“Hmm, I missed you.” She says and you smile.

“Even though I was here yesterday?” You ask her.

“Ya but you were finishing up some work with Elizabeth for most of the day.” She says and you hum. “I feel like I haven’t gotten nearly as much time with you as I want.”

“Well it’s a good thing we got a week to ourselves then.” You tell her and she smiles and kisses you again. You pull back and look at her. “Mind if I take a shower right now? I woke up a little late since I had a hard time falling asleep last night.” You ask her and Chessy pretends to think of an answer.

“I’ll allow it if I can join you.” She says and wiggles her eyebrows and you smile and kiss her cheek.

“Of course, showers are always better with you.” You tell her and you both go upstairs.

You both have a shower, along with Chessy pushing you up against the shower wall and making out with you.

When you get out, Chessy does her thing and then leaves you to do your routine as you have more you like to do after a shower. Chessy goes to make sandwiches for you two for lunch.

You brush and dry your hair, apply moisturiser to your body and then some face cream. You go to your bag and pull out your new red lingerie bra and underwear that you got for this week. You put it on and then you see Chessy’s closet door open and see a bunch of her shirts and you go to her closet. You look at all her clothes in here and you decide to borrow one of her button up shirts. You put it on and it just covers your ass and you do up the buttons but decide to leave a few of them undone for Chessy to see the red lingerie of your bra.

You go downstairs and Chessy is just finishing up the sandwiches. She has her back to you as she’s cutting the sandwiches in two.

“Hey Chess.” You tell her.

“Hey hon. I heated up some leftover chicken breasts for sandwiches for us.” She tells you.

“So that’s what smells great.” You say and she turns around with the plates in her hands and a smile on her face. She sees what you’re wearing and her jaw drops and eyes widen at the sight. You giggle at her reaction and take one of the plates from her. You both go out and sit by the pool to eat and Chessy keeps looking over at you. She thinks you look beautiful with one of her shirts on and she knows you left a few buttons undone so she can see your red bra. “See something you like?” You tease her when you catch her staring at you for like the tenth time in 3 minutes.

“Oh you know I do.” She says, a little breathy and you smile. She’s turned on and you know it. You both finish up your sandwiches and then you bring the plates in and Chessy puts them in the sink.

She then turns around and pushes you against the counter and kisses you hard. You moan into the kiss and Chessy moves to your neck and sucks on it. You gasp as she unclips your bra even with you still wearing her shirt.

“I love the new lingerie and my shirt on you btw.” She tells you and you smile. “But at the moment it’s in the way of what I want.” She tells you and undos the buttons on the shirt. She leaves her shirt on you but has it open all the way and moves your bra down so she can put a nipple in her mouth. You gasp and put your hands in her hair. Your hands run into her classes that are propped up on her head and you take them off of her and put them on. She pulls back as soon as she feels her glasses move and looks at you with them on.

“Wow, I can see out of these.” You say as you look at her.

“That’s because they’re reading glasses you dork.” She says. “Although I’ll admit that you look sexy with them on.” She tells you and you smile.

“Oh ya? Well what if I do this?” You tell her and you bend your head down and slide the glasses down to the tip of your nose and look at her. Her breath hitched and she picked you up and placed you on the counter.

“You're so sexy.” She says and spreads your legs. “And all mine.” She tells you and all the wetness from your mouth goes right to your core. She kisses up your thighs and slides your underwear off. She yanks you forward a bit from your legs and you fall back and you’re leaning on your forearms and looking at her.

“I feel a little underdressed right now. What gives?” You tell her as she still has all her clothes on. She looks at you and smiles. She knows you love looking at her boobs as you love the size of them, so she takes her tank top and bra off and you hum at the sight.

“Better?”

“Much.” You say and she leans down, hooks her arms around your thighs and connects her mouth to your clit. You gasp out at the sensation of her hot wet tongue on your sensitive clit. She knows all the ways to make you feel good and you know you won’t last long with the speed and intensity she’s going at. About a minute later she slips two fingers in your entrance and you cry out.

Chessy can see that your arms are shaking but you want to see her the whole time so she pulls her mouth away and replaces it with her thumb. Then with her left hand, she pulls you up and holds you up with her hand on your back. She then kisses you and you put your hands on her boobs and she moans.

You’re very close and the sensation is intense, you put your hands on her back and pull her closer to you as your legs start shaking.

“Come when you want beautiful.” Chessy tells you and seconds after she says that, you come and scream out her name. Chessy slows down and then pulls her fingers out of you and goes to put her fingers in her mouth. You intercept and grab her wrist and put her fingers in your mouth and moan. She looks at you the entire time and you think she might stick her fingers right back in you right then and there. You then undo her pants and slip your hands down her pants and underwear. You feel her wetness and she’s soaking right now.

You do the ‘sexy glasses look’ again and she loses her balance for a second. You find her clit and apply pressure on it and she bucks her hips to you and moans. You slid off the counter and she rests her forehead on your shoulder and her hands grip the edge of the counter as you continue to apply pressure on her clit. You keep your left hand on her back and you go and suck on her neck. She gasps out and then you stick 2 fingers in her. She moans at the sensation and you know she’ll get weak in her legs soon so you flip the two of you around and press her up against the counter. She’s surprised by the movement and she leans back with her forearms on the counter and you go and suck on a nipple. Her legs start to shake and her breathing is heavy, you put your thumb on her clit and she comes a few seconds later. You keep going though and she cries out when another orgasm starts building.

“OMG Y/N!” She screams out.

“I got you Chess, let go my love.” You whisper in her ear and she comes again. You slow down and pull out of her and lick your fingers. Chessy takes a minute to catch her breath and looks at you.

“I won’t ever get tired of having sex with you.” She tells you and you smile. “I mean I feel like I already don’t get enough of you as is.”

“Well I feel like I don’t get enough Chessy time too.” You tell her and she smiles at you and blushes. “Btw, Nick told me that we should stick to doing it in your bedroom.” You tell her and you both laugh.

“Well that lasted all of…” Chessy cheeks her watch. “2 hours.” She says.

“Well it was only an hour last time so… progress?” You say and she laughs.

“As much as I love how you look with my shirt and glasses on, I will need them back.” She says softly and you give her glasses back.

“Glasses you can take back but this might be my shirt from now on.” You tell her and she arches an eyebrow and smiles at you.

“Oh is that so?” She says and you nod proudly. “Hm, well I guess I could live with that, even if it’s my favourite. It does look better on you anyway.” She says and kisses you. She clips your bra back and does up most of the buttons and you put your underwear back on as she puts her bra back on. She was about to put her tank top back on when Nick comes in.

“We forgot the first aid kit.” He says.

You pull the sides of the shirt close together and Chessy covers her front with the tank top and turns around to face him. “Boss!” Chessy says surprised.

He looks up and both you and Chessy’s cheeks are red. He sees you wearing Chessy’s shirt and Chessy without even a shirt on and her hair is messed up and he sighs as he grabs the first aid kit. “Y/n I literally just told you like 2 hours ago for you guys to stick to her bed.” He tells you and you bite your lip to hold in a giggle. “This isn’t something I ever expected to see.” He mutters as he walks out.

As soon as he closes the door you burst out laughing. Chessy nudges you to stop but ends up joining in. When you both settle down, Chessy puts her tank top on and wraps her arms around you and looks at you with a smile. “How about you go sit your pretty ass down on the couch, pick a movie and I’ll make popcorn?” She suggests and you hum.

“I like that suggestion.” You tell her and she gives you a kiss on the lips. “Btw, you know that even though I’m keeping this shirt, I’m burrowing other shirts of yours every day this week right?” You tell her slyly and she giggles.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” She says and you laugh. You go to walk to the couch and she smacks your ass and you let out a squeak. You stop and look at her and she just gives you a smirk.

“Cheeky.” Is all you tell her and she winks at you. Chessy makes the popcorn while you pop in a movie. When she comes over, you’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch on a pillow with your legs spread out on the couch, remote in hand, ready to press play. You lift your legs up for Chessy to sit down and she puts your legs on her lap and sets the bowl of popcorn on your lap for you to share.

You press play and set the remote down on the table. While you both eat popcorn and watch the movie, Chessy keeps rubbing your thighs. At first it was sweet but now it’s turning you on. You finish the popcorn halfway through the movie and Chessy is instantly on top of you, moving your underwear to the side and running a finger through your folds. You gasp out and immediately get more wet. Chessy smirks and kisses you then slips a finger in your entrance. You gasp into the kiss and Chessy slips her tongue in your mouth and you put your hands on her back. She puts her thumb on your clit and it has you shaking your legs in no time. You come and gasp into the kiss and then Chessy pulls out and gives kisses all over your face as you come down from your high. You giggle at her kisses and she places the final kiss on your lips.

“I had no idea you’d be so horny today.” You tell her with a laugh.

“You take my clothes and look sexy in them, then you gotta pay the consequences.” She tells you and you snort.

“I should always take your clothes then.” You say and she rolls her eyes as she kisses you again.

The next day Chessy is by the pool in her one piece and you come out with a different shirt of hers on and the sunscreen in your hand.

“Hey Chess, do you mind doing my face and back?” You ask her and she turns around to face you.

“Sure, if you don’t mind doing mine.” She says back and you nod and hand her the bottle. She squirts some on her hand and does your face carefully. She then spins you around and you undo her shirt and take it halfway off and she does your back. You put the shirt back on but leave it undone and turn back around and face her. You take the bottle and you do her face and back too. You put the bottle on a table close by and Chessy runs her hands down your sides. “Hmm, beautiful.” She says and you smile. She then gets to a ticklish spot and you flinch. “Oh, are you ticklish there?” She teases you and tickles you at that spot on both sides. You giggle and squirm and you run away and she runs after you. Being a nanny to an energetic child means that she’s quickly able to catch up to you and pulls you into her.

“Ahh.” You squeak out and you squirm in her grasp as she continues the tickle torture. Your bikini top ends up coming undone as you tied it loose and you squirming on her got it pulled and came undone. Chessy stops as your top falls off and she immediately grabs your boobs. Your giggles quickly turn into moans. Chessy’s eyes are immediately blown as she goes from tickle monster to wanna fuck you in a second. She moved one hand to your bikini bottoms and unties the straps on it too and pulls it off. She lays you down on the grass where you ended up when running away and you end up sitting on her shirt. She then hooks her arms around your thighs and places her mouth on your clit. She has you squirming again in no time, although now for an entirely different reason. She doesn’t pull her mouth away until you come twice.

She then goes on top of you and kisses your lips. While kissing, you quickly fling her straps off her shoulder and pull the swimsuit down. Her boobs quickly fall out and your mouth is on them before she can even react. She gasps and you pull the swimsuit down more to around her thighs and she takes it off the rest of the way. She sits up and starts grinding on your leg. You bolt up and go to attach your mouth to a nipple. She loves that you give them so much attention as your mouth and tongue feel so good on them. She comes on your leg with a moan not long after. You both get in the pool after and make out after splashing each other.

The Parker’s come back Saturday, just after noon and you and Chessy are sitting at the kitchen island having lunch together. They end up joining you and the twins tell you all about their week.

Later on, you all gather to watch a movie together and you and Chessy are cuddled on the couch together with a blanket on top of you as it’s a bit chilly out. During the movie, you see everyone is paying attention to the screen so you quietly undo Chessy’s pants and stick your hand in under her underwear. Her eyes widen and looks at you, but other than that she doesn’t react. She goes to grab your wrist to stop you but you quickly slip a finger in and she freezes. You discreetly finger her and you both face the screen to not give anything away.

Chessy starts breathing heavily, so she puts her elbow on the arm of the couch and puts her chin on her hand and covers her mouth to try and cover up her louder breathing. She gets closer and closer to an orgasm and you see her struggle to keep it together in front of everyone and you smirk, which does not go unnoticed by her. Oh you know you’re paying for it tonight but this is too enjoyable so it’ll be worth it. She bites her lip and keeps her mouth shut as she comes and lets out a small squeak. Thankfully it was covered by a loud sound from the movie and no one noticed.

You did end up paying for it later that night in her bed but you didn’t complain at all.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[minervadashwood]

Wait For It: The Art of Living (part 3)

daryl dixon x fem!reader

Catch up here.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics Here and here. Word Count: 4.2 K Warnings: outdoor, intimate shenanigans Notes: I became inspired to write a third part to this story. If it's been a while since you read the first 2 chapters, you might want to reread them. Hope you enjoy!

Part 3: The Art of Living

“Mr. Schafer, there’s a guy out in the parking lot…just sitting on the back of his truck and staring at us,” Andrea, the new intern said.

You didn’t bother to look up; you were scrambling to finish everything before the Labor Day weekend began. 

Your boss, Bill Schafer, Jr., got up from his desk to join Andrea at the front office window. 

He sighed. “It’s one of those Dixon boys. What in the devil is he doing here?” 

You stood up so fast that your office chair rolled out behind you and hit the wall with a loud clatter. “He’s here for me!” you announced, perhaps a little too loudly.

Both Andrea and Junior glanced at you, out the window, and back at you.

Junior said, “If he’s giving you trouble, I’ll talk to him.”

“No!” you blurted, face growing hot. “He’s here to take me home. Because…because…”

Just then, Thelma, the senior paralegal, came out of the kitchenette, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Oh, look at your face, honey. You finally making an honest man out of William’s youngest?”

“I-I-well, you see--”

At the window, Junior laughed. “What I wouldn’t give to have seen your momma’s face when she found out!”

You glared at your boss, the class clown who graduated high school a few years ahead of you. “If you must know, she and Daddy are fine with it.”

Frowning, Andrea said,“That’s your boyfriend? But he’s so…and you’re so…”

Thelma squeezed your elbow. “He’s a good boy when his brother isn’t around. You get on out of here. I’ll finish up.”

“I couldn’t do that to you, “ you protested.

“Nonsense,” Thelma replied, scooping the work off your desk and taking it to her own. “You’re only young once, after all!”

You looked to Junior.

He shrugged, “We all know Thelma runs this office, not me.”

You tried to hold back your smile as you quickly grabbed your things from your bottom desk drawer.

Outside, Daryl’s tailgate was down, and he was sitting on it, eyes narrowed at you. The weather was still warm, so he was wearing a tanktop and work pants. He was putting in extra hours at the plant nursery before colder weather set in and he couldn’t make as much money.

“Hi,” you said, grinning.

He hopped off the tailgate and swaggered up to you until he was less than an inch away.

“Ya ready to get outta ‘ere?”

“Yeah, but where? You can’t go to Cleo’s.”

Daryl stared at the ground and kicked a pebble with his boot. “Thought I could take ya out near the deep end of Willow Creek. I mean, if ya want.”

You looked behind him to see the bed of the truck half full of camping equipment.  “How long are you plannin’ to keep me out there, Dixon?”

He shrugged, a bashful smile gracing his lips. “As long as you’ll let me.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Take me home to pack, please.”

Daryl slid one hand around your waist, his touch so light that you barely felt it. “Ya sure, sweetheart? If this is too much, we can just go to the park or somethin’.”

“I’m sure, Dare.” You paused, “I mean, if you’re sure.”

He nodded, his face turning red. 

“Okay, then. Let’s go.”

You hadn’t been off-roading since you were a kid, and boy howdy did it feel different as an adult. Your body bounced in the seat of Daryl’s truck as he drove it through the wilderness of the state forest. Calling the dried up path a “road” would be generous. It was full of pot holes and had downed branches the truck had to dodge. But Daryl seemed to take no notice of the rough terrain as he plowed on.

The path--and the truck--ambled on until the trees and foliage increased around it. This late in the summer, the trees and vines were thick and green. The hot sun dappled everything in a kaleidoscopic array of light. You caught the way the light and shadows danced over Daryl’s features, his sharp jaw and kissable mouth looking determined as he wove the old pickup deeper into the woods. 

It’d been a couple of months since you’d kissed him for the first time, and every time you were with him, you had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

The truck stopped, and the sudden stillness made your bones feel like jelly. You let out a long breath and released your death grip from the Jesus handle on the passenger side door.

Daryl shifted the truck into neutral and pulled up the parking break. His arms were magnificent. Strong from the manual labor he did at work, fluid from the familiarity he had with this beat up vehicle. Warmth swirled in your belly. More than once had you been wrapped up in those arms as Daryl kissed your mouth or hugged you close. You couldn’t help but imagine how they’d feel holding you other ways, too.

“Ya alright?” Daryl asked, peering at you with concern.

Feeling flushed, you nodded. “That was a rougher ride than I expected.”

Daryl nodded and turned off the engine. He stuck the keys in the sun visor and said, “Com’on. Wanna show you somethin’.”

Once you were out of the car, Daryl started walking ahead of you, weaving through the woods like it was his second home. You hurried to catch up with him and grabbed his hand.

“Not so fast, Dare. Let a girl catch her breath.”

Daryl chewed on the thumbnail of his free hand. 

Normally he wasn’t this wound up when it was just the two of you. In fact, over the past couple of months you’d seen Daryl ease into this relationship like a newly adopted puppy. Cautious at first then feeling right at home.  You weren’t much better. Every moment with him made you giddy, and it seemed like you could only stop smiling when he kissed you. Of course, after that, you smiled even more.

“Come on,” he said again, tugging you along by your hand. This time he went a bit slower, taking you to what you assumed was Willow Creek. You heard what Daryl had to show you before you saw it, but then the woods opened to a small pool with a waterfall feeding into it. The pool gave way to a little stream going in the opposite way of the falls.

The waterfall was loud, but not deafening, and you grinned, soaking up the sensory smorgasbord of sound and beauty before you. After a few minutes, you looked over at Daryl to see his reaction. Instead of taking in the view, he was staring at you, chewing the inside of his lip.

You smiled at him. “It’s beautiful.”

“What?” he shouted.

“It’s beautiful!”

Daryl ducked his head and put his lips to your ear. “So’re you.”

Before you could react, Daryl straightened up and walked toward the pool, still holding your hand.

The last of the summer wildflowers grew in patches near the pool of water, and hasty insects buzzed and flew around, collecting their last bit of seasonal pollen and summer food. You wouldn’t say no to a dip in the water if you’d brought your swimsuit. You were about to say as much to Daryl when he started walking straight for the waterfall, with you in tow.

When you got close enough, Daryl toed off his work boots, and you did likewise, taking off your practically new hiking boots (that you’d bought soon after the two of you’d started dating).

That done, Daryl paused, raised his eyebrows in question. You nodded and he took your hand.

He got under the water first, and you tiptoed your way along the smoothed rocky surface until the water pounded over your entire body. Cool, refreshing, and with the strength of twenty-some showerheads, the falls soaked you instantly. You could barely keep your eyes open through the downpour.

But with Daryl, it didn’t seem to matter. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing  his hands solidly at your waist and holding you close. Then, as the  sound and strength of the waterfall clouded your senses, Daryl kissed you.

After that, you kept your eyes closed. Sight and sound cut off, you could only feel him holding you close and claiming you with his mouth. Whatever shyness Daryl had during conversations vanished when he kissed you, especially like this.

You pressed yourself into him, craving the safety and strength only his body could provide. As the cold waterfall began to chill your skin, Daryl warmed you right back up. Your own hands roamed his back, sliding over his water-soaked tank top as your fingernails sought purchase. Your body slotted against his like it was meant to be there, and you wished you’d taken off more than your shoes before kissing him like this.

Daryl must have felt it, too, because he suddenly stopped kissing you and pulled you out from under the water. One look at him, and you knew what was on his mind. Forgetting your shoes, you pulled him away from the waterfall and to a patch of grass where the insects were less dense. Your hands grabbed his shirt and pulled it off him before Daryl could even think to stop you. In fact, he did the same to you, taking your soaked t-shirt and getting it out of his way. You kissed again, this time skin to skin. Daryl growled and moaned into your mouth. Your hand snaked its way down his front until you cupped the hard outline in his pants.  He gasped against your lips, but didn’t stop you.

Until today, there’d been nothing below the belt between you, barely below the neck. Now, for whatever reason, this was happening. And fast. 

His pants were undone quickly, and you grasped him in your palm. He was full, thick, and rigid in your hand. Mouth watering, you squeezed and stroked him. Daryl buried his head in your neck, kissing you there and gasping as you worked him. It wasn’t long before he started to tremble and tried to pull away. But it was too late; he exploded in your hand with a hoarse groan.

Daryl grabbed at his pants, trying to pull away without looking at you. Touching his hands gently, you stopped him and said in his ear. “Dixon, that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Daryl stopped panicking and finally looked into your eyes. You kissed him softly and rested your forehead on his until you were both taking deep breaths together.

You gave him some time, and after a while, Daryl started kissing you again, holding you tenderly, his damp hands roaming the equally damp skin of your back.

You didn’t want to push him, but the ache between your own legs had only increased since you’d stepped out of the waterfall. Just when you were about to ease the ache yourself, Daryl wedged his knee between your legs. Without thinking you moved your hips, pressing your bundle of nerves to the denim on his thigh.

Daryl, with a tentative hand, pressed against you just where your apex met his thigh, and though it felt good, it wasn’t exactly right.

You felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Using both hands you cupped Daryl’s jaw and said, “Have you not been with anyone before?”

“No,” he whispered. It was silent compared the roar of the waterfall, but you understood him well enough.

Letting go of him, you undid your pants and guided his hand where you wanted it.

“Gentle, Dare,” you said in his ear, but you hardly needed to ask for it.  He’d only ever been gentle with you. Gasping you held onto his shoulders, and you started moaning when he figured out how to touch you just right.

“That’s it, Dare. Please,” you begged.

“Do…does it feel as good as it did when ya touched me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. “Better.”

“Ain’t possible,” he said, reacting to each of your breathy moans to perfect his rhythm. In no time at all you climaxed with his hand between your legs and his head buried against you.

“So warm,” he said. “Fuck, honey, I just wanna feel ya and touch ya all over. This just ain’t enough.”

It wasn’t enough for you either, but you weren’t about to lay down in the grass, no matter how much you wanted him.

By the time you walked back to the pickup truck your belly was growling. You told Daryl as much, and he left you to change your clothes while he “rustled up some grub,” as he put it. He came back with two fattened rabbits and in no time had them stewed up on his propane stove with a couple of cans of vegetables tossed in. 

“A girl could get used to all this pamperin’,” you said, earning a squinty-eyed glare from Daryl as he put the stew into bowls.

“I wasn’t bein’ sarcastic, promise,” you told him.

“I could pitch the tent,” he mumbled. “But the stars’re gonna be out an’ I thought we could watch ‘em.”

You took your bowl from him, warmth in your chest. “I’d like that.”

“‘S not a fancy hotel or nuthin’.”

You pressed your hand to his chest. “You’re what makes this special. I don’t need anything else. Promise.”

Daryl nodded and cleared his throat. “Best eat up ‘fore it gets cold.”

You sat on the tail gate beside him and after eating a few spoonfuls of the stew, you said, “I take that back. I might you need to make this stew again. It’s amazing.”

Daryl didn’t reply as he slurped up his portion like a man starved.  He always ate like that, as far back as you could remember. Of course, sometimes he was half starved when he showed up on your family’s doorstep asking to spend the night.

It made you proud to see him now, a strong, dependable man. Able to take care of himself and nothing like his father. 

You pinched your arm just to make sure. Yep, still real.

After supper, the sun started to set, and the night was full of promise. Daryl made up the truck bed into an actual bed with padding and blankets and pillows. When he was done, you sat side by side on the tailgate, drinking a couple of beers and waiting for the sun to go down all the way. Daryl didn’t talk much, but you were full of nervous--or more accurately, sexually repressed--energy, and talked about work, an upcoming bake sale for your parents’ church, and a concert in Atlanta you wanted to go to.

Then, finally, you worked your way up to talking about something else.

You scooched closer to Daryl, leaning against him until he put his arm around you. 

“I’ve been savin’ up to get a place of my own,” you said.

“Mm,” Daryl replied.

“In town, maybe closer to the bus stop,” you rambled. “I thought about rentin’, but that’s like throwin’ money away basically, and I figured between you and John if I needed any repairs, it’d be okay. Thing is, I don’t know how many bedrooms I should get or if someday I might need a a garage to park a motorcycle in, or a place to work on cars. Not that I want to assume I’ll need all those things. After all, my life’s had a lot of change recently, and I could always sell the first house--I guess--and get another one. And I don’t wanna get somethin’ too big ‘cause then it’d feel lonely--”

“I dun want kids,” Daryl said softly.

“You don’t? I just assumed.” Up until now you thought you’d have kids if Daryl wanted them. But a suddenly a huge weight felt like it’d been lifted. 

“I don’t really want kids, either. I’m supposed to want them, right? But it’s never really mattered to me either way.“

“You sure?”

You snuggled closer to him, “I have all I need already.” 

“Me too,” he said.

Daryl already had his arm around you, and he slipped his hand under your shirt, and soon enough your clothes were coming off again. Daryl stood up and shuffled out of his damp jeans, then he rejoined you on the bed of the truck, grabbing your waist and kissing you at the same time you scooted back onto the padded bedding. You laid down and Daryl followed you, kissing you and pressing his body against yours.

The encroaching night was full of sounds, from the rustling leaves to the crickets and cicadas, to the hoot owls and whippoorwills. But the only sounds you noticed were Daryl and your ragged breathing. Your lips parted , and Daryl framed your face with his hands. He held your gaze as the last of the sunlight dipped below the horizon.

“Dare,” you whispered, in the safety of night. “I love you. Always have, but it’s different now. Bigger. Fuller. Do you feel it, too?”

“Yes,” he replied, a slight crack in his voice.

You leaned up off the pillows and kissed his forehead and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

He fumbled a little, getting your pants off your legs, but by the time you were both lying there in just your underwear, you were grabbing for each other: your hands and mouths were just as starved for the other as you had been for the stew. Your bra disappeared, your panties, his boxers. He palmed and suckled your breasts, you left love bites along his neck and shoulders. His hand found its way between your thighs, but more confident now, fingers caressing and stroking, dipping inside of you and making you squirm and mewl with pleasure. You stroked him only a few times before he stilled your hand and bit your bottom lip in warning.

“Wanna put myself inside ya. Wanna feel ya come on my cock, honey.”

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. 

He arranged himself between your legs and eased into you carefully. Something caught in you throat as he bottomed out inside of you and whimpered in your ear.

“‘You okay, baby?” he asked, smoothing hair away from your face.

“I’m okay,” you eked out, feeling so full and stretched around him. “Are you?”

“Feels so good, so fuckin’ good.”  Holding himself  on his elbows, Daryl buried his head against you as he started moving slowly, his hips gently thrusting.

“Yes, Dare, that’s it. Feels so good,” you encouraged, meaning every word. 

He moaned; sweat from his body dripped onto yours. “Touch yourself, baby. Wanna feel ya come.”

One of your hands gripping his hair, the other touching your clit, you moaned as Daryl moved inside you, picking up his rhythm. He kissed your jaw and the nape of your neck. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer with each thrust. You came, moaning his name and riding out an orgasm so strong that it made your whole body convulse.  Daryl thrusted a few more times and he came too, groaning in your ear and finally kissing your lips as he came to lay down beside you.

Dripping in sweat, he pulled you against him, entangling your legs to get even closer.

You pressed your palm to his chest as your breath evened out and you came back to yourself. For the first time this evening you were silent as Daryl held you in his arms.

After a while, Daryl said. “No one’s said that to me before.”

“Said what?” you mumbled, deep in afterglow.

“That they love me.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you held onto him even tighter.  It was fully dark now, so you couldn’t see him. Perhaps that’s why he’d been strong enough for that confession. You could never replace the love he should’ve had from his family, but laying with him in the dark you wanted to give him the world. He deserved it.

Daryl found your hand in the darkness and held tight. “I love you, too.”

The stars twinkled overhead, the night clear and moonless. You made love again, once you both had rested some. Then you cleaned off your bodies as best you could with baby wipes from your purse.

The air grew chilly, so you got under the covers with Daryl, both of you still naked and holding onto each other.  

After a time, Daryl said. “We won’t need a real big garage if there’s a driveway.”

“Two bedrooms or three?” you grinned.

“Two oughta be enough ‘less you need one of them craft rooms.”

“As if,” you muttered. You never met a crafting project you didn’t wreck in less than an hour.

“There’s gonna be talk,” you sighed. “Livin’ in sin.”

Daryl didn’t say anything to that. He just found your lips in the dark and kissed you for a while.

“I’ve been savin’ up too,” Daryl said when he was done. “Won’t be much. It’s small. But I can add to it later. Guy said the setting would hold more.”

“Setting? Do you mean a ring setting? You wanna get me an engagement ring?”

“Wouldya wear if I did?”

“Dare,” you whispered. “Are you sure?”

“Does that mean yes?”

You kissed him and said, “It does.”

Epilogue

John had more than enough grandchildren to keep your mother happy. And as your parents got older, everyone else in your family moved to Florida. You and Daryl stayed in the same small town you grew up in. In the same house you bought as newlyweds.

You had the occasional houseguest when Merle stopped by, and after his third time in the slammer, you sent him to rehab with your Christmas bonus from work.  Took him three stays over the next few years before it stuck. But it finally did.

Daryl became co-owner for the plant nursery he worked at when the owner died and his kids wanted to sell the business. By the time you and Daryl were in your forties, you were happy and more in love than ever. 

Then the virus hit. First the cities, then everywhere.

You lost Merle early on. The dire circumstances caused him to relapse, and he sealed his own fate after losing his temper on a rooftop.

It took nearly five years of surviving, of struggle, of loss and grief. But you finally found a new home. Once a year, you and Daryl mourn everyone you’ve lost by drinking moonshine and going over old memories. Even the night Daryl found you crying on a bathroom floor with blood pouring from your nose.

You have graying hair; Daryl doesn’t. You live with him in the basement of your best friends’ house. Date night usually means dinner with Carol and Tobin or Aaron and Eric. You find time for yourselves when you can. Every moment is precious. You never miss the chance to tell Daryl you love him. 

However, these days, you’re not the only one.

Glenn and Rick both give Daryl side hugs after fighting off walkers or returning from runs. “Love ya, man,” is commonly uttered as a matter of principle.

Judith is wiley with her “I love you, Uncle Daryl,” because she has learned that’s all she has to say to get her way. Your husband knows this. Yes, it still works.

Carol is quick with a joke, a barb, with an insightful but unnerving observation. She gets Dary frazzled with her teasing and finishes it off with, “Love you, pookie,”once Daryl is good and worked up.

Every time you leave Aaron and Eric’s house, they hug you both and say, “We love you guys. Come back soon.”

It took over a decade for you and Daryl to finally admit your feelings for each other, it took even longer for him to find a family--and for you to find a new one. Despite the losses along the way, your lives are filled with love, both for each other and the all the people around you.

The End

Thanks for reading!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: consider me influenced 😅 an aggressively horny brady skjei fic all inspired by the above picture. @pyotrkochetkov did her job well! i COULD NOT get this idea out of my head so i had to write it. i’m not guaranteeing that i’ll write for brady again either, just bc he’s married irl and it feels a little weird? but ya know, never say never, clearly 😶

word count: 3.4k

tw: age gap (6 years but not really a main focus or factor - i don’t even really mention the age gap, it was just in my head as i wrote), daddy kink, spanking, praise kink

summary: you decide to wear a svechnikov jersey to the canes game, knowing it will rile brady up. you’re not disappointed by his reaction

You know you’re asking for trouble from the second you pull the Svechnikov jersey over your head and Brady’s face at the arena when he sees you only confirms that. You’re in the corner with the other WAGs, chatting happily while still scanning the ice for Brady during warmups. He does a lap and then spots you, his smile lighting up his entire face even under his helmet and visor. When he starts skating towards you, you turn a little so the 37 on your sleeve is visible and Brady’s entire expression changes.

His lips, that pouty lower lip you love to bite, turn down in a scowl and his jaw clenches. You smirk a little at him, head cocked to the side and one shoulder lifting in a small ‘what’s the matter?’ shrug. Brady’s eyes narrow at you and he shakes his head, lips still pulled down in a deep frown. His tongue pokes at the side of his cheek and he doesn’t get any closer to the glass, fifteen or so feet separating you.

Keeping your gaze locked on him, you cross your arms, jersey pulled tightly around your body. Your hip cocks a little and Brady’s eyes track the movement, noticing the skin tight jeans on your lower half. He shakes his head at you one more time before skating off, accidentally on purpose bumping Andrei’s shoulder with his as he skates past. A little giggle slips past your lips when you catch sight of Andrei’s confused expression - you feel bad for dragging him into your little game with Brady, but it’s not like Brady has anything anything to worry about since Svech is in his own long-term relationship. Besides, you like your men a little older, which Brady knows very well.

Brady’s just a jealous piece of shit and you know that - tonight you’re exploiting it in your favor.

He’s electric on the ice, crushing some of the Anaheim players into the boards, zipping up the ice with the puck, and hitting the posts twice before finally deflecting a Martin Necas shot into the net.

After his goal and celly, he finds you in the stands and smirks at you, giving you a little swatting motion with his gloved hand. You grin back, excitement flooding your veins. The jersey is clearly working.

The game ends in a win for the Canes, which only helps your cause, and you stream out of PNC with the crowds, not bothering to rush to your car since you’ll have to wait a while for Brady to get home anyway. You scroll through Instagram while you wait in your car for the crowds to disperse a bit, double tapping on a few of your friends’ pictures. The ones that are younger than you, still in school, are posting from tropical locations on Spring Break. You zone out a little bit, thinking about summer break on a beach with Brady.

Traffic eases up and you start the car, getting back to Brady’s apartment just a little before eleven. You ease your car into your spot and let yourself in with your key. You shed your sneakers and jeans, flushed with excitement from the game and the text that Brady had sent from the locker room - I’ll be home in an hour. I think you know what’s coming, little girl.

You definitely know what’s coming and your body tingles with excitement.

When Brady gets home, you’re waiting by the front door, the jersey’s hem brushing the middle of your thighs. You smile brightly at him, “what a game, Brady. You were so good.”

He raises an eyebrow and drops his bag to the floor. His hair is damp, but drying, the light from the hallway catching on his greys. “You’re a fucking menace,” he says, chuckling a bit. “You know that?”

“Me?” You ask innocently, pointing at yourself with an index finger. “I was just supporting you…”

Brady steps forward, crowding you against the wall with his body, kicking the front door shut behind him with a slam. “Supporting me?” He ask, smirking a little meanly. Your thighs press together under the jersey. His hand reaches out and traces up your bare thigh, fisting in the jersey’s fabric. “Funny way of showing it, sweetheart.”

“I showed up at the game,” you reply, a little breathless. Brady’s hand is so close to where you want it. “Cheered for you. Wore a Canes jersey…”

“Wore a Svech jersey, like a little brat,” Brady cuts you off, grabbing your chin with his other hand. His fingers wrap around your jaw and he tilts your head up, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. You smile innocently at him and suck the pad of his thumb into your mouth, scraping it against your bottom teeth. Brady pushes closer to you, the heat of his body overwhelming. “You know what happens to little brats, don’t you? They get punished.”

His other hand pushes higher, bunching the fabric of your borrowed jersey up over your hip. His fingers brush against the thin band of your thong, snapping the elastic a little. You flinch against him at the sensation, hips rolling forward to press against the erection straining the front of his slacks. His hips thrust forward on their own accord, a single hard push into yours.

His thumb still in your mouth, you mumble, “I haven’t been very bad, Brady.”

“Bad girls still have to get punished, to learn their lesson,” he murmurs, breath hot against your cheek. Before you can answer, his lips slide over yours in a bruising kiss, his hand still holding your face in place. You lean up on tip toes, wrapping your hands around his biceps to keep steady, returning the kiss with equal heat. His tongue traces your lower lip and your mouth falls open, only for him to bite gently at your lip. The sharp sting makes you gasp and Brady takes the opportunity to break the kiss, roughly pulling at the jersey. The fabric is yanked over your head, messing up your hair, and tossed carelessly to the floor. Cool air hits your bare stomach and your nipples tighten under the lace cups of your bra. Brady gives you a once over, eyes lingering on the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“I don’t want to see that fucking jersey ever again,” he growls, crushing you against his chest with one arm and dragging you with him over to the couch. Your toes drag against the floor as Brady walks, only for him to sit heavily at the edge of the couch, pulling you down and flipping you so you’re draped over his lap on your stomach. Your hands are pinned under your chest. Excitement and lust flip your stomach, your ass subconsciously lifting in the air. The hard ridge of his cock presses against your hip and you wiggle a little, breathless from the manhandling.

Brady’s palm, warm and broad and calloused, smooths over your ass cheek and you shiver, getting wetter by the second.

“How many do you think, sweetheart?” He asks in a mocking tone that tells you he’s already decided how many spanks he’s going to dole out. His thumb traces an arc over your bare skin and goosebumps lift on your arms. His other hand rests on your lower back, holding you in place, keeping your body pressed heavily against his cock. It twitches under you and you grin.

Your face is pressed into the couch cushion so your voice is muffled when you reply, “as many as I deserve.”

It’s the right answer, because Brady’s cock grows harder under you and you can hear the smile in his tone when he says, “such a good girl. Knowing when to take her punishment.”

Brady’s hand smooths over your ass once more before it’s gone and back, a stinging slap that has you jolting over his lap, rubbing against his cock, and has your ass cheek jiggling. The impact makes you gasp from surprise more than from pain and heat floods between your legs. The couch fabric slides under your cheek and you lift your ass higher. The next two spanks come in quick succession and tears prick at your eyes, even as your stomach clenches with desire. You wiggle over Brady’s lap, desperate for relief from the ache between your legs.

“Such a good girl,” Brady praises you, his other hand moving from where it was resting on your lower back to slip under your body and cup one of your breasts. The lace cup chafes your skin, but it feels good. He spanks you again, rolling your nipple between two fingers and pinching as he goes. He spanks you a fifth time and now the sting is starting to hurt. But the sting is nothing compared to the building desire rocking through your body. Your clit throbs and you shift, trying to get Brady’s muscled thigh in a position to press against your clit.

Your thong is soaked through and a petulant whine builds up in the back of your throat, escaping when Brady’s hand squeezes your breast, hard. “Brady…” you whine his name, trying to twist your hips. His palm is heavy on your ass cheek, skin hot to the touch.

“Are you complaining, sweetheart?” He asks, thrusting his hips lazily, pressing his erection against your stomach. The hard heat of him sends another wave of desire through your body. “Is five little spanks enough for my little brat?”

You nod and Brady pinches a nipple again. “Did you learn your lesson? I’m not sure you did, that sweet little pussy is dripping wet, I think you liked this too much. I don’t think it was a punishment enough,” his voice is ragged, fingers dipping between your legs to swipe at the wetness gathering. “Should I punish you another way? Bring you to the edge and deny you release?”

Without warning, his middle finger slips into you and you cry out, surprised and thrilled. You push back against his finger, willing him to move it and give you some relief. He crooks it carefully, giving you just enough before withdrawing the digit completely and giving you another sharp slap to the ass. You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks, and Brady doesn’t give you a second to recover before he’s wrapping his arm around your waist and moving you, sitting you on his lap so you’re straddling him in a reverse cowgirl position. Your legs are spread open over his thick thighs and his arm is wrapped securely around your waist, keeping your back pressed flush against his chest. He opens his legs a little, spreading them wide so your legs follow, giving him plenty of access to tease you. Your muscles burn from the stretch.

Two fingers tease at the edge of your thong and you wiggle in his grip. Your ass stings, the fabric of his pants rough against sensitive skin, but you grind down on him, gasping softly, breathless.

“Is my sweet little girl trying to get herself off?” Brady asks, his voice low and raspy in your ear. “Look at the mess you’re making, sweetheart.”

You glance down at his lap where his pants have a huge wet mark over one thigh from where you were dropping all over him. “I want you, Brady, all for you,” you murmur, the words choking off when Brady nudges your thong aside and plunges two fingers into you, the stretch nothing when you’re soaked for him. You watch his fingers disappear into your cunt, impossibly turned on by the sight. Heat coils low in your stomach as his wrist moves, strong tendons and muscles flexing. For a few heartbeats the only sound is your ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of Brady’s fingers pumping your soaked cunt. His lap is a mess, your arousal staining the fabric of his suit. As he works his fingers, you clench around him, grinding down over his hand.

“What kind of gentleman would I be,” he asks, running the tip of his nose against your jaw line while his fingers pump in and out of you, “if I left you to get yourself off? Daddy always takes care of his little girl, even when she’s a brat.”

His arm is like a vise around your waist, keeping you in place. “You think Svech could treat this pussy with the care it deserves? Think he could make you as wet as I do? Think he knows anything about making you come with a few fingers? Who does this sweet little cunt belong to, baby? Whose is it?”

“Y-yours, it’s yours,” you gasp, riding his hand, seeing stars when his thumb circles your clit and then screaming his name when he presses down. Pressure builds in your stomach, your entire body going hot. “Brady, Brady,” you chant his name, “please, please!”

“Please what?” He breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Use your big girl words.” He slides a third blunt finger into you, knowing exactly what you want even without you asking for it. You cry out his name again, his fingers curling and pressing against your G-spot.

“Wanna come,” you babble. “Need to come, please. Daddy, please, let me.” Your fingers scrabble at his forearm, nails scraping the fabric of his suit jacket and slipping right off. Sweat drops down your temple and your stomach muscles clench, your thighs trembling from riding him.

He rocks his hips up into yours, his cock pressing against the seam of your ass. “Come on, sweetheart,” he thrusts up again, driving his fingers into you at the same time, “soak my fingers.”

Brady’s hand glides up your chest and kneads your breast, the other still working at your clit. It’s too much sensation, too much pressure, and you scream his name, falling apart in his arms. Brady works you through the orgasm, fingers gentle as they circle your clit, sliding lazily through your arousal. Your entire body goes limp, head sagging back against his shoulder. Brady kisses your temple, nuzzling his nose into your hairline.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, still holding you, fingers still inside of you. His cock is rock hard against your ass. “Took her punishment so well.”

You whine, incapable of speech. He chuckles against your overheated skin. “Bet I could slide my cock right into that little cunt and you wouldn’t even notice, you’re that wet for me, baby.” He peppers kisses to your bare shoulder, stubble scraping your skin and making you shiver. His lips are a little chapped and he bites gently at the junction of your neck and collarbone, sucking a little mark.

“I’d notice,” you mumble, reaching down to run your hands over his thighs. “Do it. I wanna feel you.”

Brady pulls his fingers from you, drawing another whine at the sudden emptiness, and sucks each finger clean. His hips roll lazily under yours and you know he’s looking for a release too. “C’mon, Brady, fuck me. Know you wanna,” you sigh, shifting on his lap, wincing when the fabric scrapes your sore ass.

“I’m okay, sweetheart,” he replies, lifting and turning you so you’re facing him. The change in position is better for your hips - they were almost locked in position - and you take the opportunity to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Brady’s hands are secure on your waist, holding you close. “How’s that cute little ass of yours?” He mumbles the question against your lips.

His hair is flopped over his forehead now, greys prominent in the lighting and you lift your hands to run them through his hair. You fucking love the greys. They’re hot as hell.

You wrinkle your nose, knowing it’s going to be hard to sit for a day or two, but don’t reply. Brady wraps his arms around your back and lifts you, your legs locking around his waist instinctively. You bury your face in his neck, wrung out. His cock presses against your ass still, hard and hot under you, and you can’t help but press down on him. Brady grunts at the pressure, pinching the side of your thigh in warning.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” his voice is strained as he carries you to the bedroom. “I think you learned your lesson, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling against his skin. “No more Svech jerseys.”

“Damn straight,” Brady’s hand smooths over your ass, fingertips teasing at your folds and making you shiver. He carries you into the shower and strips you of your bra and thong before setting you under the spray. His suit gets discarded to the floor, in desperate need of dry cleaning after you came all over his pants, and he joins you, kissing you gently when he ducks his head under the water. His erection presses into your hip and you reach for him, enjoying the way he inhales sharply at your touch, the way his cock jumps in your grip. Neither of you say anything as you work him over, hand gliding over his erection easily. When he’s close, Brady drops his head to your shoulder, bracing himself with both palms against the shower wall behind your head. He comes, hot and fast, with a shout, covering your hand and wrist in cum. It’s probably not the most satisfying orgasm or hand job you’ve ever given him, but it’s really all you have capacity for right now.

After you dry off and get dressed - in a tank top and an oversized pair of Brady’s boxers - Brady brings you a bowl of Fruity Pebbles to bed and nudges you onto your stomach. You kick your feet up in the air, eating your midnight snack while he rubs aloe lotion onto your ass cheek. The lotion is cool against your hot and sensitive skin and you can’t help but sigh in relief. Your eyes flutter closed even as you spoon the dry cereal into your mouth.

“Shit, baby,” Brady sounds surprised, “your skin is all red. Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?”

His hands are gentle while they rub lotion into your skin and you’re completely relaxed under his touch. Sleepily and with a mouthful of cereal, you mumble, “I liked it. Wasn’t hurting me.”

“Still,” he says, pressing a kiss to the center of your ass cheek. “Don’t like hurting you.”

You wiggle your ass under his touch and laugh a little. “Brady, you think I didn’t know what was going to happen when I wore the Svech jersey? Please, sometimes a girl needs to be spanked,” you roll a little onto your side, looking back at him. Your eyes twinkle. “Maybe you should try it.”

“Don’t even think about it, sweetheart,” Brady laughs, giving you a little stink eye.

“Or what?” You giggle, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll spank me?”

Brady growls, “you little brat,” lunging for your side and tickling you. You shriek, the bowl of dry cereal going flying as you laugh and squirm.

“Brady, stop please! No more!” You beg for mercy, gasping laugher making it hard to breathe.

“Are you going to behave?” He asks, fingers digging into your sides. His hair is messy and all over the place, his grin wide and delighted.

You laugh and manage to say, “no, never!” Anything else you might say is gone when Brady rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re splayed over his chest, his arms locking you in place.

He smirks up at you, shaking his head. “Such a bad girl,” he kisses your chin. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you tease, kissing the tip of his nose and wiggling your hips against his, making his cock stir under you.

Brady’s eyes twinkle. “Oh, sweetheart, I got plenty of ideas of what I’d like to do with you.” He wraps his hand around the back of your neck and pulls your face to his, kissing you deeply, tongue swiping over your lower lip. You moan into his mouth, letting your knees fall to either side of his hips so you’re straddling his pelvis. The kiss deepens and Brady grips your hips, mindlessly dragging you over his cock. He’s half-hard under you. When you break apart for air, he mumbles, “starting with that.”

You hum, dazed, and bury your face against his neck. “If,” you mumble, “I get spanked for wearing a Svech jersey, what happens if I wear a Necas jersey?”

Brady barks out a laugh, “why don’t you try it and see, sweetheart?”

[confusedblakex]

Soulmate AU Series: Izuku Midoriya

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya X Reader (GN)

Summary: The day you get your soulmark, except you didn't find your soulmate the way you expected

Wordcount: 836

Warnings: None

Requested by: No one

Inspired by: This post by @dashielldeveron and this post by @haitani-trash

Notes: Surely I am not the only person who headconnons Midoriya to listen to kpop?

Last edited: 18th May 2023

Prologue

You were terrified. You woke up not to the sounds of your alarm, but to the sound of someone humming a song you didn’t know, and it definitely wasn’t the voice of anyone you lived with.

It took you a while before you realised that this was your soulmate. This was what linked the two of you.

You tried humming something too, then tried singing something with lyrics. But you got no response, your soulmate didn’t even stop humming until their song was over. It was almost like they couldn’t hear you.

While you could still remember the tune, you hummed your soulmate’s song into a music search and in return got:

‘Warriors - Imagine Dragons’

You quickly wrote it on the back of your hand, not knowing what else to do with it and promised yourself you’d get a song diary just for the songs you heard your soulmate sing. You couldn’t keep them all written on your hand forever.

You ended up wasting quite a bit of time that morning just testing it out, almost making yourself late for school. You rushed for the rest of the morning, trying to ignore any other humming from your soulmate. How early did they wake up if they were humming before your alarm?

After actually getting there, you quickly met up with your friends Tokoyami and Jiro, who immediately wished you a happy birthday.

“What did ya get?” Jiro asked, eyeing the note you had written on your hand.

“Oh, that’s not my soulmark,” You explained, “It’s the name of the song I heard them singing,” to which Jiro sighed.

“That’s such a cute one, I wish I had that…”

“Did you try singing something back?” Tokoyami asked, eyeing the artist of the song.

“Yeah, but they couldn’t hear me,” You explained.

“They’re probably just younger than you, don’t stress about it,” Jiro said after seeing the slightest of disappointment on your face.

“I know, it’s still a bit of a let down though”

“Why? Had your eye on someone in particular?” Tokoyami teased, and you stared at him with the most deadpan stare you could muster.

He laughed with Jiro, and you eventually gave in too. You should probably relax a bit and trust that the world will do what it needs to do.

---

The rest of the day went relatively smooth for you. But then at lunch, you heard them again.

They were singing something different this time, humming with the occasional lyric mixed in. You quickly searched for the song again, getting another Imagine Dragons song.

‘Bones - Imagine Dragons’

But then they stopped. The moment you wrote the song on your hand, the signing stopped.

You stared at your hand in confusion for a few minutes, until they started up again with something different.

‘What’s Your Name - (G)I-DLE’

You wrote this down too, but then realised it was a question. Maybe they were asking you?

It seemed to be a stupid thought, but what would be the harm in trying it. After all, they had asked.

‘(y/n)’

You wrote your name on your hand and then waited.

A few minutes. A bit longer. Until you just gave up and decided to focus on your food.

After lunch was over, you headed back to the classroom, wandering a bit trying to find your two - ‘the Emo Team’.

“(y/n)!” You heard someone yell behind you in the hall. You stopped and turned, wondering what they wanted you for.

It was Midoriya, someone you’d never properly spoken with besides general chatter and during hero training. He was jogging to catch up with you, and when he did he took a moment to catch his breath. 

“What’s up, Midoriya?” You asked casually. You weren’t quite sure what to do in this situation.

“You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?” He asked excitedly.

You gave him a confused look and he showed you his hand. It had writing on it that was the exact same as the writing on yours. The same song names, your handwriting, your name.

You checked your own hand just to be sure.

“I don’t understand,” You mumbled in confusion. Soulmates were supposed to have matching soulmarks, if you could hear him singing he should also be able to hear you.

“They’re not the same,” Midoriya explained with a grin, “The likelihood of this happening is even rarer than being quirkless - rarer than not having a soulmate at all!”

And you let it sink in. The broccoli boi of the hero course was your soulmate under supposedly the rarest soulmate circumstances.

“So, you want to go out for coffee at some point?” You asked, resulting in a pink blush across his cheeks. Worth it.

---

Bonus:

“Izuku Midoriya,” Tokoyami said darkly, “I understand and appreciate that you will soon be dating my best friend,”

Midoriya nodded nervously.

“So there is something we need to address…” Jiro said with an equal sense of foreboding.

“What on earth is your taste in music?!”

“HUH???”

[weeeeeekly]

bad idea right? - choi soobin x afab!reader

info ➜ HEAVILYYYY inspired by olivia’s song, i basically just wrote this around the lyrics, i fucking love olivia, featuring stayc 01z & le sserafim yunjin, assigned female at birth (afab)!reader, yn is kinda a bad friend, exes to lovers, one shot, SOOBIN IS A SIMP, non idol!soobin, college student!soobin, slighty shitty ex!soobin, this is fiction!! so soobin probably doesn’t act like this

wc: 3.3k

WARNINGS !!!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (mdni), smut, no piv, only foreplay, handjob, eating out, swearing, & poor writing

author’s note!!! this is going to be bad because i’m pulling an all nighter when i’m supposed to be awake before 8 AM (it’s 12:40 AM right now) & i have a full day of classes and work. this will have errors because i’m immediately posting this after writing.

also, it’s my first time writing smut and idk what the fuck i’m doing. not going to be realistic or accurate but it’s fictionnnnn.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

You stared into the bathroom mirror as you fixed your lip gloss. The party raging just outside the door wasn’t as enticing as the missed calls from your phone.

two missed call from loser not worth mentioning

Why was he even calling? It’s been months since you two broke up. More like he broke things off because he wanted to “focus on school” more since it was his last year before graduation, but that didn’t stop him from going to every single frat and sorority party since the beginning of the semester.

You roll your eyes as you let his next call go straight to voice mail as your best friends blow up your group chat.

sumin 💞 ynnnn where r u

sieun 🩵 pls don’t be vomiting emoji

yn i’m okay

yn he keeps calling me

sumin 💞 bOOOO

sieun 🩵 pls don’t pick up his calls

yn i’m not !!

yn going straight to my voicemail

sumin 💞 y don’t u block him

yn because

yn idk

yn it’s complicated

sieun 🩵 just come back soon

yn give me five

The music gets louder as you hear chants of “chug chug chug”. You smirk as you spray some more perfume to cover the reek of Pink Whitney that Sieun accidentally spilled on you earlier in the night. Your trio did a shot the second you got to sorority party hosted by Yunjin, she had told you about it last week in your shared stats class, but that was hours ago and you had a few more after that.

You weren’t wasted, but you definitely shouldn’t be driving a car.

You were having fun, but you could be having more fun with your ex.

“Hey Siri, play my voicemail.”

“You have three voicemails… Hi. I know you’re out at Yunjin’s party, but you looked so good in your Insta story. God… your legs look so good in that skirt. I miss seeing you in skirts… I know it’s been a while since we… ya know, but we should catch up. The guys are out at a party and I stayed behind to finish unpacking my new room, but I’m getting kinda bored. Maybe you could help me unpack, see the new apartment, test out my new headboard–”

“Please.”

“I miss you – I want to see you again.”

You let out a sigh as the voicemails end and you’re weighing all the pros and cons of this messy situation.

Pro. It has been 3 months since the relationship and 3 months since you’ve done anything. Going out and trying to talk to new people didn’t sound that appealing. This was your first party since the breakup that Sumin and Sieun were able to drag you to, so getting calls from him tonight felt like some kind of test from the universe.

Con. It would be such a bad decision. A lapse of judgement. You deserve better than this.

Pro. You would get laid and it would be really good.

Con. You can’t leave your friends for a guy.

Right. Your best friends in the entire world are waiting downstairs for you. A knock from outside the door snaps you back to reality as you quickly put everything back in your bag.

A soft apology slips past your lips as the blur of a person flits past you and to the toilet as they throw up.

“Ew.”

The party looks even more crowded than before with people dancing, drinking, and making out taking up all the available space as you try to politely make your way back to your friends. After narrowly missing another spill of alcohol to ruin your outfit, you spot the familiar sight of two brunettes huddled by the fruity drink cooler.

“There you are!” Sumin throws her available arm around your waist as you join the duo.

“Sorry, I started feeling unwell, but I’m good now.”

Sumin hugs you in an effort to comfort you as you give her a smile. It was true that you were feeling unwell, but it wasn’t from the alcohol.

Sieun makes herself another mix of whatever alcohol is left by now. “Do you want any?”

“I think I’ll just make myself a Shirley Temple.”

Sumin grabs you the jar of cherries and ginger ale you needed as you made your drink. You down it the second you’re done and it does alleviate the funny feeling in your stomach.

You should probably not, but you check your phone.

loser not worth mentioning just in case

loser not worth mentioning hybe apartment complex across school

loser not worth mentioning unit 304

Fuck.

You look back over to Sumin and Sieun giggling over the alcoholic sugar juice concoction Sieun made. Your heart hurts a little at the stunt you’re about to pull.

You’re not hurting anyone. They’ll understand that you’ve been lonely and it’s just a one time thing.

Gathering up all your energy, you hunch over a little and let out a heavy sigh. Sumin sees this and rushes over to comfort you.

“Are you okay, Yn? Did you not eat earlier? Should we leave so I can make you some soup?”

You shut your eyes as your conscious comes back to yell at you. Poor, sweet Sumin who loves you dearly just wants to take care of you as she thinks you’re sick while you’re faking it so you can get dick.

“I think I just need to go back home to sleep it off.”

“Okay, let’s drop you home.”

The three of you get an Uber to your dorm despite the short 13 minute walk from the LSF house. But the late hours of night and the scary reality of being tipsy, young college kids in a public university – it’s better to be safe than sorry.

You wave bye to your best friends as they tell you from the car that they’ll text you when they get home to their shared apartment. The second the Uber is out of your sight, you sprint inside to freshen up. Going through the motions of brushing your teeth, deodorant, changing shirts to a baby blue fuzzy sweater for the colder temperature, and fix your hair.

sumin 💞 we’re home

sieun 🩵 feel better

You heart both messages and wish them good night as you grab your water bottle from the fridge.

This is your last chance to back out. To follow through with the lie you told your besties. It would be nice to get some sleep and be in a better headspace tomorrow morning and finally block him.

loser not worth mentioning i dyed my hair back to blond

yn see you in 15

loser not worth mentioning good girl

Your mind goes blank at the text as you try to keep your cool. All of your thoughts are silenced as you order another Uber to Soobin’s new address.

It’s such a bad idea to be doing this, but all your moral judgement went out the window the second you listened to Soobin’s voicemail, but who could blame you? You’re literally just a girl. A girl who loves blond on Soobin. A girl who loves the way Soobin kisses… and does other things. Seeing him tonight can’t be that bad.

A text notification from Uber alerts you that your ride is outside.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

You’re standing inside Soobin’s new apartment as you wait for the elevator to open.

Yes, you’re currently going back to your ex, but you’re just going to help him unpack his room like he said. Totally innocent. Just two friends. Can you even call your relationship friendly? Whatever. Just two people… reconnecting. Yes, reconnecting!!!

Next thing you know, you’re outside unit 304 and waiting for Soobin to welcome you in. When the door does open, you’re taken aback by a smiling Soobin. Despite the short amount of time apart, he looks even better. His hair is back to blond and surprisingly healthy. The pj set he’s wearing just shows how ridiculously attractive he is because despite the plain white shirt and plaid pants Soobin looks like he’s modeling.

You must have been staring at him too long because he clears his throat and steps aside, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Holy fucking shit. There has never been anyone hotter than Soobin in this moment. Your mind can’t wrap around how you were dating him for a year. How someone this beautiful could even exist and perceive you. Just the way his dimples show when he smiles is enough to make your knees buckle.

“Are you going to come in?”

“Oh right, yeah.”

You brush past him as you take your shoes off by the door. You take a glance around the kitchen as Soobin goes to the fridge.

“Water? Soda?” Soobin steps aside as you look at the options in the fridge. A bunch of beverages and a shit ton of tangerines.

“Just a Coke cherry please.”

“With a ton of ice in a cup with a straw? Got it.”

Your heart skips a little at the small notion of Soobin remembering your preferred beverage. Jesus, the bar is in hell.

“Your new apartment is nice. I like that you can see each of your personalities.” You compliment as you spot the bookshelf with an assortment of plushies, an electric guitar on a stand, and a clothing rack that’s half sports jerseys and half clothes that cost more than your semester tuition.

“Thanks! You know how long we’ve been saving, so it was a dream when a unit opened up and fit our price range.”

“I’m happy for you guys.. really. I hope they’re doing good.”

Your statement is genuine as you do miss Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai. It was just best for yourself to pause your contact with them while you were healing.

Soobin hands you your drink as you sit in a chair at the table. You thank him as you quietly sip on it as your nerves kick in again. It would be fine if you two just caught up and became friends again. You did miss his presence and it’ll be sad when he graduates next semester.

“Yn,” Soobin scoots his chair closer to you as you look at him, eager to hear out whatever he sees. You hate to admit it, but he still has a pull over you. “I want to apologize for how I went about everything. It was really shitty of me to give you the school excuse to break up. I just–”

“You just?”

“I kinda… got so caught up in trying to do well on finals that the stress controlled me. I took it out on you instead of talking it out, then I didn’t talk to you all of winter break.”

Yeah. It was a brutal break as you spent most of the time crying and being upset at yourself. Your therapist had a field day though!

“I’m sorry for also sending you that horny voicemail. And that good girl text. I understand if you don’t want to see me again. Or if you just want to be friends. I’m sure that you have someone else.”

“I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t done anything since we ended things.”

Soobin’s eyes light up at your answer. “I haven’t seen anyone and I’m not right now. I’m totally single in every sense.”

You let out a tiny laugh at the mix of assertion and desperation, “I’m totally single too.”

“So… if you’re single and I’m single.”

Then who’s driving the plane?? Kidding.

You set down your empty cup as you lean closer to Soobin, “If we’re both single, shouldn’t we do something about it?”

In the next second, Soobin is cupping your face as you suck in a breathe. If you just leaned in an inch, your lips would be touching in a kiss. His eyes flit down to your lips as you watch. From being able to be so close, you take in how pretty Soobin is.

“Can I kiss you.” Soobin whispers.

“Yes please.” You whisper back.

Soobin then closes the gap between you both to kiss you. It fills you with the exact same feeling as before, warm and bubbly. You wrap your hands around his neck as you continue kissing. The kiss is messy and slightly awkward, but the feeling behind it makes up for it.

Soobin breaks away as you frown, “Do you want to help me in my room.”

“You know I love reorganizing.”

Soobin’s signature dimple smile appears as he grabs your hand to lead you to his room.

The second you step in; he pushes you against the door with enough force to knock the air out of you but not to the point to hurt you. You thank him by initiating this kiss and tease your tongue against his. His hands wander down from your face to your waist as he pulls your bodies closer.

You tug on his shirt as you continue making out and switch spots so he’s against the door. He lets you take it off and throw it into some corner of his room. You move from his mouth to kissing his neck as you feel his skin. Soobin’s always had the softest skin, so you relish in being able to feel him again.

Soobin groans as you start a hickey on the area between his neck and shoulder. You should know the name of the area, but anatomy was never your strongest subject.

“God, you’ve always been… so eager to leave your… mark.” Soobin jokes between groans as you work to deep shades of purple and blue.

“Gotta sign the work of art. Same rules and boundaries as before?”

“Yes. Stop when either of us need it.”

“Got it.” You wink as you move a hand over Soobin’s bulge.

He lets out a sigh as you touch him through his pants.

“Can I?” You kiss the corner of his lips that you love so much as he parts his mouth to let out a whimper as you add some pressure to your hold.

“Please.”

You give him a peck, spit in palm, and shove your hand down his pj pants and boxers. You wrap around his girth and start slowly moving your wrist. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, and you speed up. It’s been a while since you gave a hand job, so you’re little rusty but by the way Soobin is falling a part you’re sure that you’ll get no complaints.

You keep stroking him, making sure to watch his expression as you continue how he likes it. When you know Soobin’s about to cum, he speaks up, “Wait.”

You slow down your motion as you wait for him, “I don’t want to cum in your hand.”

“Where do you want it?”

“On your tits.”

You smirk as you bring you hand back up to your lips and lick off his pre cum. Soobin shudders at the sight but kisses you.

You both walk backwards as he maneuvers you to his bed and kisses down your neck when you fall back onto his bed. You grip his blond locks and laugh when you hear him let out a groan.

“Can we please go back to kissing?”

“Sure.” Soobin moves back up to give you a messy kiss but then kneels off the bed in front of you.

“Do you know what I missed the most?”

You shake your head as Soobin peels off your silver skirt. “Eating you.”

He starts kissing from your belly button to your inner thigh on both legs as he plays with the waist of your underwear. You sigh as you take the opportunity to grip his hair again.

“Stop teasing.”

“Only for you.”

Soobin finally peels off your underwear and tosses it as he begins to kiss you. You moan as he licks at your clit. His hands grip at your legs to keep them apart so he can eat you whole. Soobin continues a pattern of kissing and licking when he begins to slip a finger in.

Your thighs shake a little at the intrusion and the slight ache due to the lack of action you have not been getting.

“I missed your mouth and hands.”

Soobin hums which makes you moan a little louder as the pleasure begins to build up. You bite your lip when Soobin adds in another finger and moves away from your body.

“Just let me know when it’s too much.”

“I’m okay, just a little out of practice.”

“Shit, me too.”

The response makes you forget for a second that you guys ever broke up. If you focus hard on the way Soobin goes back to eating you out like he’s starving, it would be like you went back in time to November – when everything was still okay.

When Soobin starts the combination of fingering you while sucking on your clit you know you’re about to cum.

“I’m… close.”

“I’ve missed tasting you.”

Your brain and thoughts turn back into mush as Soobin brings you closer to cumming. If your thoughts could speak they would probably sound like “ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh”.

“I’m about to –” You come hard as Soobin continues thrusting his fingers inside you, but sits back on his knees as he licks his lips.

“Wow.”

Soobin giggles as he pulls his fingers out of you and into his mouth. You watch in awe as he sucks your essence off and adjusts his crotch with the other.

“Do you want me to suck you off?”

“You don’t need to, I already came.”

The blond’s dimples appear again as he giggle at your shocked expression. You slowly sit up to lean down toward him to kiss him.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

After kissing a bit, Soobin notices how tired you get and calls it a night. He helps you to the bathroom when you stumble trying to get off his bed. You take a quick shower to wash away the sweat from tonight’s activities.

When you step out of the shower, wrapped in a towel. You take a look in the mirror and let out a gasp. Soobin bursts through the door, “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that my makeup was ruined! Have I looked like this the entire time?”

“I think you look cute.” He wraps his arms around you as he gives you a cheek kiss.

“You have to say that because we’re sleeping with each other.”

Soobin’s eyebrow raises, “Sleeping? As in actively? Like you want to sleep with each other and only each other?”

“I’m sure we could work something out.” You nonchalantly shrug as you hid your smirk as Soobin frowns.

“We talk about it in the morning, let’s cuddle.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

You wake up the next morning to a bunch of texts from Sumin and Sieun.

TODAY 4:00 AM

sieun 🩵 YN

sieun 🩵 YN

sumin 💞 YN

sieun 🩵 WHERE R U

sumin 💞 WHY DOES UR LOCATION SAY SOME RANDOM APT AND NOT UR DORM

sieun 🩵 HELLO

sieun 🩵 IM CALLING U UNTIL U PICK UP

sumin 💞 ur telling us in the morning

10:27 AM

yn sorry I was asleep

sieun 🩵 NOT AT YOUR DORM

yn I never said I was sleeping at my dorm…

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

masterlist

author’s note!!! finished at 5 AM LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOO okay now i’ll do hw for one my classes & maybeee organize my makeup drawer. thanks for reading!!!!

[babamiasworld]

Something About Him || Part 1

Human!Bully!Ao’nung x Fem!Reader (Highschool AU)

Summary: you and your younger brother had recently transferred to a new school after your dad got a job in another state. your brother is trying to be positive abt this change but you weren’t a big fan of change, and your family new that this move was going to be really tough on you, but they new better than to confront your newfound attitude, but how long will it last?

Content Warnings: angst, slow burn, (light)bullying, enemies to lovers, (y/n) is kinda a bitch in this LMAOO bc me too🤭, random capitalisation bc m’lazy, a lot of swearing

Additional Character Glossary:

Tirotay = ur younger brother

A/N: this fic is heavily inspired by @yunaloona‘s highschool AU fic series but i really need some of that angst and drama so i’m doing my own version 😫😜- but def go check their one out if ya want something short and sweet xx. ➥ also i’m writing this as someone who is aroace, so i HATE when the deal is sealed, so i ain’t gonna give y’all closure easy mk🤭

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The sound of a muffled voice pulled me out of my dream before i could even recall it, my eyes groggily opening to a painfully bright light, my eyes tracing the worn wallpaper and towards the figure standing in the doorway; Tirotay.

“(y/n), c’mon, mom said to get up now or you’ll have to catch the bus to school.” he spouted firmly, before sauntering down the hall…leaving the door wide open.

“uugGHHH- close my damn door bro!” I yelled, while knowing full well he wasn’t gonna come back to close it, so i shot up from my bed, already pissed off and slammed my door, tuning around i was able to take a look at my new room. besides a few unpacked boxes here and there, my room was pretty much the way i wanted, which made this place a little less bad. my favourite of course being my tall bed, with a disheveled display of a soft quilt, decorated with an embroidery design, topped with a modest amount of silk covered pillows piled at the headboard; undeniably being the centrepiece of the room, i would GLADLY stay in that bed all day if that was a choice.

I lazily through on some clothes, more concerned with comfortability rather than style; it’s not like i was trying to dress to impress, i don’t care about what these people think of me to be honest, and im only going to school so i can get my graduation certificate and that’s it. i don’t need friends, i already have plenty from back home, so i don’t need anymore.

after brushing my teeth and hair i head downstairs to the kitchen to grab the lunch mom made for us, shoving it in my bag.

“(y/n)! are you ready yet babe? we gotta go!” mom shouted from the living room.

“yup- im ready now! i’ll be waiting in the car!”

————

you and your brother had both already done orientation day and just headed towards the office to get our schedule, both silently praying we still knew how to get there from memory. reaching the principals office we we greeted with two happy faces.

the principal slightly perked up at our presence, “(y/n), Tirotay, it’s nice to see you again.” after we exchanged pleasantries, she handed us our timetables and gestured to the sweet looking girl standing next to her and continued. “this is Tsireya, she will be your guide.”

“Hello! it’s nice to meet you both!” Tsireya chirped, followed by a short wave and a smile.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too.” i quietly replied with a nod. looking over at my brother who was avoiding her gaze entirely, rolling my eyes I turned my attention back to Tsireya, who giggled in response.

“Ok, let’s get you two to your homeroom class.” Tsireya gestured to follow her.

———

“alright aaand this is your homeroom (y/n)! you have Mr. Samual, so you’re definitely one of the lucky ones- hes really nice.” she whispered the last part, “and hey if you need someone to hang out with at lunch, you’re more than welcome to come sit with me!” she offered.

“thanks- appreciate the offer.” I gave a simple nod and then walked into my classroom. ‘so much for not making friends…’ i thought to myself, but she was so nice, and that made it really difficult to not reciprocate.

————

The bell rang pulling me out of my dazed thoughts, civil war history was never really my favourite. the teacher was saying something about homework, though i really couldn’t care less, packing my stuff away in my bag and making my way out of the classroom, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

walking into the cafeteria was a little daunting, but thankfully i didn’t draw too much attention. i saw Tsireya eating next to a few of her friends, but i decided against going up to them, I was more comfortable by myself anyway. Scanning over the cafeteria once again, I noticed a side door leading outside, so i tried my best to not be seen sneaking out.

outside wasn’t anything breathtaking, but it was empty, which was all i needed. i leisurely, walked up to a tree in the distance, setting myself down and grabbing my lunch from my bag. pulling my phone from my pocket, i leaned it against my bag, putting my headphones in and choosing a random youtube video that looked entertaining enough.

a few minutes passed as i mindlessly ate my food, though my thoughts were interrupted by laughing, i look up to see a collective group of boys holding their stomachs. at first i didn’t give a fuck, but then i saw someone amongst the group who didn’t look too happy; a girl. i paused my video to hear what they were saying.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted, though falling on deaf ears, as their smug demeanours didn’t falter.

“Awww the little freak wants us to stop..” one of the boys taunted, getting up in her face, “If you don’t like the way we’re treating you, why don’t you just call your big brother to come save you~ orrr you could just run off and cry like you did last time.” his words causing the girl to grimace, as the rest of the boys laughed.

i had seen enough- already stopping off towards them, a scowl painting my features. the boys kept circling her like vaulters, the boy who insulted her before clearly was the main perpetrator, the other boys looking like nothing other than his “minions”.

“HA-! look! the freak’s starting to cry again!” he scoffed, expressing fake sympathy towards the girl. “I’m sorry we hurt your wittle feelin-”

he was cut off after i shoved him away from the girl. “what the hell is wrong with you? Do you seriously have nothing better to do?” i scolded, a disgusted look taking over my features. he looked at me up-and-down, clearly offended that i had ruined his fun.

“who the hell are you?” he spat, looking at me, as if I was the scum of the earth.

“who am i? who the fuck are you? honestly, you think with all that forehead you got you’d have a big enough brain to comprehend common decency, but i suppose i can’t be surprised, since in seems your skull is so fucking thick, it makes sense that you never had a lot of brain growth.” i spat, the boy in front of me now seething.

one of the other boys stepped towards me but was halted by his leader. “c’mon ao’nung, these bitches aren’t worth it.” another boy spoke, causing the boy he was talking to to scoff, staring you down before turning around and walking away, his little followers tagging along behind him.

ao’nung…that was a name you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

after they had left i immediately turned around to check on the girl. “Hey, are you ok?” i asked, slight worry crossing my face. the girl looked at the concrete, blinking away frustrated tears.

“yeah i’m fine,” she meakly spoke, looking up at me, “thank you…for that.”

“of course.” i smiled, given her a nod of acknowledgement. my eyes trailed down to the girls bag, a green crocheted tote bag with a flower in the centre. “I like your bag. It’s very pretty.” gesturing to it.

she gave a shy smile, eyes focused on it as her grip on the strap tightened. “thank you, i made it myself.” her eyes meeting mine again. “my name’s kiri by the way.” she said with a smile, which i immediately returned.

“name’s (y/n). nice to meet you.”

—————————-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-—————————

Part 2

[julesthequirky]

Brat - Original Concept Idea-

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: John’s not your dad and nor does he want to be, which is fine by you. But what he does believe in is disciplining the unruly. As your mother’s ex and technically your closest father figure, John takes it upon himself to fix your behaviour and attitude, but you’re not having any of it and decide to fight his efforts every step of the way.

Pairings/Characters: Step Brother!Sam x Step Sister!Reader, Step Brother!Dean x Step Sister!Reader, Step Dad!John Winchester x Step Daughter!Reader, Claire x Reader, Mr. Novak x Reader, Jack, OFC Joanie.

A/N: This is not a new chapter, which I am currently writing for this series. Instead, this is the original scene, originally titled Pure Taboo, that inspired the series. It doesn't quite fit anymore (continuity issues), but I will revamp it. It gives you insight into what I'm hoping to broaden. I've no idea how I'm going to go from chapter one John to this John, but it's honestly one of the best scenes I've ever written. Enjoy. I entirely blame @cockslutpadalecki for this idea.

Warnings: Bratty reader, cussing, John being John, spanking, mentions of amateur porn production, mentions of squirting, mentions of a threesome, fingering, teasing, John's filthy mouth, mentions of drug use.

W/C: 1135

“I’m sick to death of your fucking rules!!”

You’d never raised your voice to him, let alone cuss in the same sentence. But you were incensed. Enough was enough. You understood when you’d only first arrived. He only knew you to be a troublemaker. But now… now you just felt insulted.

John stood slowly from his seat, towering over you, power shifting to him, emanating.

“You raise your voice to me?”

His soft drawl elongated the few short words he spoke. He was too calm, making you realize the world of shit you would just be in, but still, you stood your ground. 

He stepped closer.

“Well, go on, Princess.”

You shifted your cross-body bag against your shoulder as he gestured to you, drawing closer like a predator does to its prey.

“I’m going—“

“Do you use that kind of language at school?” He interrupted, catching you off guard, closing the gap. “Bet you use that kind of language with my sons, don’ya?”

Your blood froze, and a chill swept over you. John didn’t know. Couldn’t know.

His fingers curled around your chin, the large thumb pad resting on your bottom lip. You found your breath stilling as it stuck in your throat, hearing your heart thunder in your ears and the tick of the clock.

“N-n-“ You stuttered.

“Shh, shh. Shhhhh.”

His whole hand expanded against the side of your cheek, tips of his fingers reaching your head. His thumb traced across your lower lip. You stuttered out a breath as a white-hot shot of electricity dropped to your centre, resting to a tingle along your core and thighs.

He hummed and leant closer.

“Did you like that?”

You could see your reflection in his glasses. Rosy cheeks, pink lips slightly parted, eyes bright and wide.

“Did it drench your pussy?”

His drawling words messed you up, cunt clenching at nothing, a whine escaping your lips. You pulled away, jerking away from his hold, but he caught your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“Don’ think so, darlin’. You don’t get to run your mouth in my house without suffering the consequences.”

He ripped your shoulder bag off, letting it drop to the floor, tugging you to his chair. He sat lifting you, flipping you onto your stomach, your hands attempting to push yourself away, but he had a firm grip on you.

“Don’t think for a minute you can act like a brat around me and get away with it.”

His hand curled around the band of your shorts and tugged them down, along with your panties, leaving them around your knees.

“Joh-“

“Sir.” He calmly corrected you.

Large fingertips skimmed over your raised derriere, lighting sparks that settled deep into your core.

“Would ya look at that,” He drawled. “Such a perky little ass. Are ya wet for me, Princess, or is it just my sons that get you off?”

You whimpered, all the fight leaving your body. John chuckled. 

“We’ll see after ten spanks.”

Your forearms braced the arm of the chair, nails gripping the worn leather, head tucked, leaning against your arms.

His hand came whistling down. The force of it wobbling your ass cheeks, releasing a crack into the air.

One.

You howled, the sting ripe and new, until it settled into a buzz, nestling in your clit.

Two. Three.

These two came in quick succession, barely allowing time for the sting to subside. They had you gritting your teeth and crying into your arms.

Four. Five. Six.

Your thighs clenched and your knees locked, ass on fire and ashamedly soaked.

SevenEightNineTen.

The last four came rapidly, taking the breath from your chest. You cried out, body writhing, ass wringing and redraw from John’s tannings, trying to wriggle free, but he had you locked.

“It’s over.”

His large hand kneaded each cheek, massaging away the pain, eliciting a response from your already drenched cunt.

You gingerly attempt to slide off, but he held you to him.

“Uh-huh, girlie,” He tapped your ass, one hand curling around your hip. “’m not finished.”

A hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, forcing your legs apart, two fingers pressed to your soaked folds.

“Well, baby girl, seems it’s not just Sam ‘n’ Dean that get you going.” His approval rumbling in his chest, sending vibrations through your body. 

Fuck. Tonight was not going the way you had planned. Jack was gonna think you were blowing him off, and he had the good shit. Then, to make matters worse, your phone rang. Shit. You could feel John tense up as the phone continued to ring, his fingers still in between your legs.

Your phone’s trilling stopped, only to be exchanged for the landline on the table beside him.

“Who might wanna be gettin’ a hold’a you this badly?”

He wouldn’t be an idiot, would he? He knew not to call.

John’s fingers left your wet lips as he went to pick up the receiver.

“Winchester residence, John speaking.” He pressed a button on the phone.

“Hi, Mr Winchester. Is Y/N there?”

It was Jack. Fuck. His voice came through on speaker.

“May I ask who’s speaking?”

“Jack. Sir.”

Oh, God. You could hear giggling in the background. Probably Claire. Dammit. She was already high.

“Well, Jack, Y/N is unavailable tonight. Unfortunately, she won’t be around for a while either, so I’d appreciate it if you no longer called this number.”

With that, he hung up the phone before Jack could utter another word.

“Who’s Jack?”

“A friend.”

He hummed.

“Why’d he call?”

“I made plans to meet.”

You could hear the chair creak as he leant down, his beard scratching your ear.

“But, Y/N, you’re grounded,” Then it seemed to click. “Ah, but you already knew that. You were going to disobey my rules to have a little fun with your friends.”

He laughed out loud.

Fuck.

Your arms ached, leaning on the chair. You desperately wanted to move from this position.

“Fuck, you really are trying to test me, aren’t you?”

His hand coaxed your legs to open a little more, fingers meeting your wet core once more. John stroked, teasing your clit, and opening. The coarse tips rough on your slick sensitive skin.

Your nails dig into the old warn leather, teeth biting your bottom lip, trying not to let a sound out. It’s when he pushes two digits in and sinking knuckle deep that had you moaning and shuddering in pleasure.

 “Sammy says you’re a squirter.”

You shook your head. What was it with these Winchesters? Did they always share with their daddy?

“Don’t bother tryna lie to me. I saw the video.”

Video? Fuck. Dean. You had barely registered him with the camcorder as Sam drilled into you, huffing in his efforts, holding your legs apart.

Tags: @amithesimpoffandoms

[justabooknerdposts]

just an idea but awkwardly timed IMs lol, those fics always make me laugh and you are very good at capturing humor

*NOTE: I’m still closed to prompts for now, probably until at least the end of the year, as life is quite busy at the moment.  But I’m trying to catch up on some backlogged requests that have been sitting there for a few months since before I closed.  So, I’ll have a few up over the next couple of weeks—my goal is to have them all posted before Chalice of the Gods comes along and expands canon again, ha.  Again, not accepting any new prompt requests at this time—I’ll see how my schedule looks in January and revisit the idea then 😊  In the meantime, enjoy the four or five coming up. 

Oh, also, chapters 2 through 4 of my AHS senior year Percy and Annabeth story have also been posted.  This story is written under my TraitorousHearts8 pseud, so it’s a little more YA than middle-grade, but it’s available to read on Fanfiction and AO3 if you’re interested!  The last two chapters should be up over the next week or two. 

Alright, back to the prompt response!*

Okay, I kind of loved this one and it was fun to do some semi-awkward IMs.  Hope you enjoy!

PERCY:  The Greek gods have terrible timing.  For example, one once interrupted me in the shower.  Long story.  I’m not discussing it right now.  Demigods do a little better.  But sometimes, they have bad timing, too.  For example, during my freshman year of high school, I was in the bathroom at my mom’s apartment, going…well, doing what you do in the bathroom, when, suddenly, the air in front of me shimmered.  Charles Beckendorf’s face appeared a moment later.  “Hey, Percy, got a question for—” he said before his eyes widened.

I yelped and swiped through the I-M.

Once I was out of the bathroom and standing near the kitchen sink, using its water to make a misty rainbow, I messaged him back.

“Uh, hey, dude,” Beckendorf said sheepishly.  “My bad.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though I still kind of wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment.  “You didn’t know.  But, uh, let’s not mention it again.  Ever.”

He nodded gravely.  “Anyway, the reason I was calling…” and he launched into a Titan War-related question about an explosive device he was working on that could be added to the tour bus of monsters we’d received reports on.

Later, I learned that he’d rigged this device in the bus’s toilet.  I tried not to take that too personally.  And I definitely did not ask him what had inspired the idea.

ANNABETH:  Usually, I have way better luck than Percy.  Which isn’t actually saying much because he has absolutely terrible luck.  Which probably explains why this happened.  It was during the fall of my freshman year of high school, during the Titan War.  I was at my dad’s in San Francisco, and Percy and I hadn’t caught up for a few weeks.  Things had been weird between us ever since our quest in the Labyrinth that summer.  But we were trying.  Unfortunately, Percy chose to reach out via Iris-message…while I was in the shower.

I was washing my hair when suddenly, from behind me, I heard, “Hey, Annabeth—aagh!”  I turned, hands already up over my chest, to see Percy, bright strawberry red, covering his eyes and swiping through an I-M.

I called him back ten minutes later from my bedroom, fully dressed, though my hair was still wet and tangled.

As soon as his face appeared, Percy sputtered, “Annabeth, I am so sorry—”

I held up a hand.  “We will never speak of this again.”

“Agreed.”

***

A couple years later, on the Argo II, Hazel was talking about I-Ms.

“They’re great,” she said.  “But it seems a little risky.  I mean, we surprised Reyna in the baths.”

The corner of Percy’s mouth quirked up.  “Yeah, this one time, I called Annabeth and—”

“I thought we were never speaking of it?”

“Oh yeah.  So, anyway, is that a flock of harpies closing in again?  I’d better go check.”

After he ran off, Hazel raised her eyebrows at me.  I sighed.  “He called me once while I was in the shower.”

“Oh.”  She fanned herself, an old-fashioned gesture that somehow seemed natural on her.  “See?  Risky.”

I nodded.  “For sure.  Oh crap, those actually are harpies.  We’d better go help him.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

[evereinefaust]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ࿐ྂ

Pairing: Killua Zoldyck X afab!Reader

Trigger warning: Character death

Sypnosis: Killua's childhood was filled with memories of her. And years later, he is finally ready to move on.

Word Count: 1,930

“This place holds a lot of memories for me, especially this tree.”

Sapphire orbs wandered around the old place. “I’m back, [Name]. I fulfilled my promise.”

“We’ve been neighbors since I can remember. We’re best friends for life.”

“This tree witnessed our joy.”

“You can’t catch me, Killua.” A young [Name] giggled as she ran away from her chaser.

“I’ll get you.” The silverette declared.

How I wish we never grew up. If only there was a way to freeze time.

But time passed by and we went to the same school.

My very young heart tells me to be always there for you. To protect you.

“Stop it!” [Name]’s cries entered the male’s ear, he saw several boys picking on the poor girl.

He clenched his fist and saved her from bullies as the young girl clenched on his shirt tightly, eyes watering.

“Back off, will ya!” he shouted at them angrily.

You always consider me as your hero.

But it was sad. I never told you you’re the one who saved me and inspired me to fulfill my dreams.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to get involved in a fight?!” Killua’s mother scolded him while treating his wounds, though a hint of worry can be heard in her tone.

Of course, I never told them I was defending and protecting you. I was afraid they will not let me see you again.

“I heard your mom scolding you. Why didn’t you tell her it was because of me?” [Name] said.

“It was my fight, not yours. I chose it, so don’t you ever feel guilty about it.” Killua just gave her a heartwarming smile.

“Let me defend myself. If I stand up to those bullies, they will eventually back off.” She argued in determination.

“Okay, fine.” The silverette chuckled then gave up. He held onto her hands as they stared at each other’s eyes, smiles plastered on their faces.

Soon, we were in high school. It was then I saw the changes in you.

But sadly, we're not classmates anymore. You had your group of friends and I had mine.

Killua sat on a big trunk of a tree as he tried the rope around it securely. “Tomorrow is [Name]’s fourteenth birthday, I hope she’ll like my gift.”

On that special day…

“Happy birthday sleepyhead.”

The [h/c]-haired girl woke up and saw her best friend standing in front of her. She removed the sleep from her eyes before smiling at him warmly.

“Thank you, Killua.”

Killua’s heart skipped a beat as his cheeks turned red. “I hope you don’t mind if I got in through the window. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“I don’t. It’s just like the old times.” [Name] reassured.

After breakfast, we went out for a stroll.

“Come, there’s something I want you show you.” Killua said as he held on the girl’s hand as they ran.

When they reached the place, the silverette removed his hand. [e/c] orbs widened in surprise at the scene before her. On the tree where they always hand-out was a white hammock decorated with her favorite flowers.

“Do you like it?” Killua asked and looked at her.

“I can’t thank you enough, Killua!” The girl jumped on him, enveloping him in a hug. His eyes widened as his cheeks heated up.

That tree became more important for us. It was the place where we laughed, cried, built our dreams, and most of all it witnessed the friendship we shared.

[Name] sat on the hammock as Killua pushed it gently, both laughing in glee. After the fun, the [h/c]-haired girl slept on the grass, her beautiful features shown as Killua drew her face.

High school graduation. Celebration at home.

“One, two, say cheese!” Killua and [Name] stood next to each other, showing off their medal as they pose for a picture.

“These kids are inseparable. I wonder if they will end up together.”

“Well, I can say they look good together.”

“Anything is possible, only time will tell.”

Indeed, only time can tell what fate has stored for us.

It was the summer before we went to college.

“Killua…” [Name] called on the sleeping male beside her.

“Hmm?” he gave off a hum.

“Are you really going to Yorknew City?” The girl asked as she sat on the hammock.

“Yes, I’ll be taking up (insert favorite course here). Thank goodness I passed the test. Why don’t you study in Yorknew, too?” Killua replied as he also sat up.

“I can’t. I will at the provincial college. My father enrolled me in the governor’s scholarship program. And besides, it’s my dream to teach in our town someday.” You explained with sad eyes.

“But we’ll be separated.”

“We’ll always text each other. And I know you’ll come home every summer.”

In my first year in college, I survived loneliness and the adjustment period because of [Name]’s message. Every time I miss her, I’ll just look at the wallpaper of my cell phone.

“Hi, BFF! I did what you told me. I gave those bullies ‘the evil look’ and they did back off. Now they are just ignoring me. Hi-hi!”

“That’s my girl. I knew you always had that in you.” Killua smiled to himself as he sent the message.

I couldn’t protect her anymore, but I’m glad she’s fighting back. She’s proving to be one tough lady.

In my first two years in college, I was able to go home during vacations and we always kept in touch. But after that, things became different.

“I will help my parents with expenses here in Yorknew City. Alluka will be in college this coming school year and the expenses are taking their toll on our family.” Killua told the female over the phone.

Alluka is my younger sibling. He’s staying in the province and will go to the same provincial college where [Name] is also studying.

“You don’t need to explain, Killua. You don’t have any obligation to me and I’ll always understand,” [Name] replied with a smile gracing her lips.

She’s always like that, patient, understanding, kind, and loving.

The following years were very hectic for me. I had a part-time job in a (insert random job here), a busy schedule with my studies, and barely enough time to rest.

And I was so preoccupied that even keeping in touch with my family and [Name] became leisure. But she never missed a single day to text me even if I seldom replied.

Time passed by like falling leaves.

When the day of my graduation finally came, my family came to Yorknew City.

It was the only time I noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s [Name]?” The boy asked as he looked around to find a [h/l] [h/c] girl.

His parents exchanged nervous looks before his father spoke up. “She’s busy with work, son. But she has a gift for you.”

I wasn’t able to go home for [Name]’s graduation and celebration for her passing the exam. But she assured me it was all right because I was busy with work and studies.

That night after dinner, I tried to call up [Name].

“I’m sorry, Killua. [Name] is already sleeping. But you got her gift, right?” her mother spoke from the other line.

“Yes, ma’am. Please tell her I called up. And I will text her again in the morning to thank her for the gift.” Killua replied.

“I will. Again, congratulations.”

After that, he hung up the phone. He stared at the wallpaper of [Name] and him together.

I promised myself I would go home after taking the board exam.

The time I promised [Name] eventually came.

Killua knocked on the door of the female’s house. Her mother opened it and surprised to see the silverette standing at their doorsteps.

“Hi, ma’am! Where’s [Name]? I came to surprise her. I just came home.” Killua told the woman with a smile.

“Ahm, well, she requested me to give you a letter when you come here. But she wanted you to open it under the tree. She’s waiting there.” The woman gave him a folded letter.

“Thanks. I will not let her wait any longer.” The boy beamed and took the letter. Taking a bow before sprinting towards the destination.

She was the one who surprised me.

When Killua arrived at the tree, he slowed his pace as he saw a single gravestone located under the tree. He went closer to inspect and his eyes widened in shock at the carvings.

[Name] [Surname]

(birthday)-FEBRUARY 21, 2017

LOVING DAUGHTER

WONDERFUL SISTER AND FRIEND

YOUR MEMORY WILL ALWAYS STAY IN US.

After seeing this, Killua reluctantly opened the letter with shaking hands. Tears already streaming down his face.

Dearest Killua,

                I know at present you already fulfilled your dream. That’s why you now have time to come home. Please don’t blame my family or yours for not telling you the truth about my condition. Before graduation, I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia. I thank God that I was able to graduate and pass the exams despite undergoing treatments. But I can feel I will not last long, and I don’t want to hinder your dreams. That’s why I made everybody promise not to tell you the truth. It’s all right to grieve for me, that’s normal. But after that, move on. You have to move on, for me, for our friendship, and for our dreams that are now solely yours. Do all the things that I can’t… soar high, try all new things, explore, and of course fall in love. You know that I love you, right? And because of that love, I decided to keep quiet. Because I know keeping quiet is the best way I can let you feel how much I love you.

You wrote down messages that your family would text me each day. You even prepared gifts that will be mailed or given to me, so that I will not suspect you’re gone.

“Thank you, [Name], for the friendship and love that you gave to me,” Killua muttered to himself as he sat down under the tree’s shade, resting his back on its trunk while reading his beloved [Name]’s farewell letter.

I was hoping to propose to you one day, that’s why I’ve been working so hard these past few years.

In your letter, you told me to go on. And I did.

At present, Killua stood under the same tree with his hands in his pocket, reminiscing about the first and only girl that he loved so much who died a long time ago.

“My only regret is that I never told you I was in love with you. But no matter how much I cry, I could never turn back the time and correct my mistakes. So I just have to make sure the next time I fall in love, I will tell that person how much I love her. And I have to thank you, [Name], for that lesson.”

[mybookplacenet]

Featured Author Interview: Kristina Elyse Butke

Tell us about yourself.: I'm Kristina and I'm a YA fantasy author based out of Ohio. I'm originally from Flushing, Queens, and I've lived in both Wales and Japan at different parts in my life, which shapes the stories that I write. Where did you grow up, and how did this influence your writing?: I had sort of a dual home growing up: my mother in Ohio, and my father in Queens. Though Ohio is predominantly where I grew up, we visited NY a few times a year to see Dad and our childhood home, so I felt really lucky to have "two homes." Childhood locations in both places have influenced my writing, popping up as settings or historical inspirations in my books! Do you have any unusual writing habits? I used to have a "writing cap" -- an old seafaring cap that I got on the pier in Baltimore -- and before I would write I would put it on my head to be prepared. When I moved to Japan, I lost touch with the hat and haven't been able to replace it, which makes me sad. What authors have influenced you? I had sort of a dual home growing up: my mother in Ohio, and my father in Queens. Though Ohio is predominantly where I grew up, we visited NY a few times a year to see Dad and our childhood home, so I felt really lucky to have "two homes." Childhood locations in both places have influenced my writing, popping up as settings or historical inspirations in my books! Do you have any advice for new authors? I am currently struggling with this right now since my first book just released, but try not to read reviews of your book if you know that bad ones are going to break your heart. What is the best advice you have ever been given? When I was starting undergraduate college, my father was touring campus with me and told me that college wasn't just about studies, but very much about the people I would meet. He was absolutely right. It's the people who make or break your college experience. What are you reading now? I'm catching up on the webtoon series STEEL UNDER SILK by snob. You can read it on Lezhin Comics. It's an adult historical BL manhwa about a former noble who has lost everything and plans vengeance on the man who took it from him. The story is intriguing and the art is beautiful! What's your biggest weakness? I'm a terrible plotter. The best I can do is make little bullet points of some of the things I want to have happen in the novel, but I rarely follow a plan and prefer to discovery write as I go along. I have tried plotting software, Save the Cat!, the Hero's Journey, etc., and cannot plot and plan for the life of me. I'm just too impulsive and changeable! What is your favorite book of all time? It's hard to choose but it's got to be a foundational book for me-- DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST by Juliet Marillier. I read this novel in college and it made me want to write fiction. When you're not writing, how do you like to spend your time? I love reading manga and watching anime. Currently I'm doing a rewatch of CHAIKA THE COFFIN PRINCESS and watching new episodes of DELICIOUS IN DUNGEON. Anime has something for everyone, and it's an absolute comfort to me. I hope you give it a try. Do you remember the first story you ever read, and the impact it had on you? I remember the first book series I read in elementary school, MORTIMER THE FROG. The only thing I remember thinking is that art looks great in books. What has inspired you and your writing style? Fairy tales, anime, and manga have shaped my storytelling and writing style, mostly with inspiring me to write about specific things, like demons or alchemy or fae...if I saw it or read about it and thought it was cool, odds are I'll try to write about it, too. ..just in my own way. What are you working on now? I'm working on the first book in my trilogy. It's called THE NAME AND THE KEY. It's about a girl named Lily who finds her mother's body in the marshes, and since that day is haunted by the corpse of her mother in every reflection, begging Lily to "open the door." Her best friend Andresh may be the key to breaking the curse, but his own secrets may destroy them both. What is your favorite method for promoting your work? I like doing book tours and interviews. MTMC Tours is featuring my debut SON OF THE SIREN July 29-August 7 over Instagram and TikTok and it's going to be beautiful. And there are a wide variety of places online that will kindly interview authors (like this one!). What's next for you as a writer? I'm an incredibly slow writer so my next big goal is to have a trilogy written and chosen for traditional publication. I know a lot of people are waiting for it. How well do you work under pressure? Either I curl up in a fetal position or I batten down the hatches and get things done. The former is if things feel hopeless, and the latter is when there's a sliver of success. How do you decide what tone to use with a particular piece of writing? I think it all depends on what's happening in the story. For example, I used a more lighthearted, third person POV for SON OF THE SIREN since it's a fairy tale retelling. I wanted to evoke the sense of "once upon a time, long ago and far away" so I tried to keep to a storyteller-like narrative voice. It all depends on what you want to have happen and what kind of story you want it to be. If you could share one thing with your fans, what would that be? Everyone should look up the artist Juhaihai. I commissioned Juhaihai to do original character art for SON OF THE SIREN and the work is beautiful. You can find Juhaihai all over the web--please show your support! Kristina Elyse Butke's Author Websites and Profiles Website Amazon Profile Goodreads Profile BookBub Profile Kristina Elyse Butke's Social Media Links Twitter Instagram Pinterest Read the full article

[equestriagirl16]

NRC staff and their guardian status with MC~🌹

Notes: personal headcannons cause I absolutely cannot get enough of the NCR staff being caretakers/parental figures to MC. It’s just so wholesome to me, and a lot of this isn’t new info just my take on said renowned info.

Inspired by: @wolken-himmel @hunniepotts @adrianasunderworld @mashed-potato101

Dads: Crewel and Crowley

It’s basically canon at this point that our dear professor would assume the main dad role.

He would have a long history of taking care of “unruly pups”, and having you come around like a lost stray in need of proper training. Well he just couldn’t help himself now could he?

Spoils the hell out of you, yes he would take you out shopping for actual clothes and necessities, yes he would pay for everything, and no you absolutely do not owe him anything in return. Would probably get genuinely upset if you insisted.

Would be the dad to actually remind you, in a reassuring way, that you are in fact a child/young so you really shouldn’t carry the world on your shoulders at least not by yourself.

Fairly overprotective and strict, he only wants the absolute best for and from you. Which means unfortunately you won’t get a sliver of favoritism in class, and no amount of batting eyes or cute little excuses in baby talk is gonna change that. “Well you should’ve thought of that when I specifically gave you a weeks notice before the assignment went out pup.” And then he pats you on the head with his stick(affectionately).

No dating no boys no nothing, in fact no friends. Just spend your time with your loving father figure, he’s sure that’d be much better for your mental health. “I hate men.” “But you are one.” “My point still stands.” He’s spent more time around the student body than you have so he knows, LORD does he know, that plenty of them will leave you worse for wear despite how nice of a person they are. And if anyone, no matter who they might be, leaves his little pup sad and whimpering. He’ll make sure to remind them why he adorns the name of Crewel.

But at the end of the day he absolutely loves you, and you bring a special light in his life too. He may be a little young for it(in his words), but a set of adoption papers happen to make his way on his internet browser more times than he can ignore. Only if you’d like, perhaps he could bring the proposition up in conversation during your next shopping spree.

Oooooh Crowley, honestly this is mostly because he was the first adult to find you. We all know how this man operates, and yet he’ll insist that he takes care of you like his own child! *looks into the camera*

The man is on the complete other end of the dad spectrum. Ya know instead of responsible and nurturing he’s more so flighty and excitable. Literally just- “We gon need nutrition.” “So your kid likes apple juice?” “Oh no they love orange juice, but they’ve been bad this week.” “What grade is your kid in?” “Sixteenth grade.” “That’s not even a grade!-So they graduated college?” “No they…where is my kid??” He left you in the grocery store…again.

Don’t get him wrong though, he can step up to the challenge when need be, he’s still a whole principal. If anything he’ll at least make sure your academics are in line and your school life is decent, and thankfully he does play favorites!

However he definitely values independence, and just tends to think you can handle things on your own and believes a ton in your potential. Much to both your favor and detriment, sure there’s nothing you can’t handle but that doesn’t mean you should handle it all at once!

Does get serious when the situation calls for it. Like if you’re legitimately broken up about anything, or just in a bad place the secret dad switch in the far reaches of his brain finally switch into hyper gear. He can catch the slightest wind of it, and he’ll be the first one there to comfort you which he’s surprisingly good at. Both in physical comfort and advice, it gets you every single time.

He would never let you know this, nor could you really guess, but he would do anything for you. You mixed up his life in a very unexpected and interesting way, and even if he’s not good at showing it he does love you very much. Man would kill for you. Die for you though? Hmm, give him a sec to think.

Uncles: Vargas and Sam

To me he comes off as someone who definitely cares about you but doesn’t show it on as intimate of a level if that makes sense. He’s a gym bro, he shows his affection more in words of motivation and making you run just a few more laps. Cmon, he believes in you!

Obviously he values your physical health, but also because he knows that can translate into mental health. He may not be there for everything but he does what he can in the time he has with you.

Honestly he probably just figures that you already have a lot of people looking out for you, and he doesn’t want to overstep. So he’ll stay in his lane and make sure you’re working at maximum efficiency.

Of course that doesn’t mean he won’t be there for you when you need it. Is also ever so slightly protective, but aims to lift you back onto your feet more than anything. He knows your someone deserving of respect so he’s gonna remind you of that every time he has the chance, and won’t stop until your confidence is through the roof. “Come on, you’re really gonna let them tear you down like that! Remember what I taught you, no one’s strong like Y/N!”

But if you need a hug then maybe, just maybe, he’ll sweep you up and jostle you around until you’re too dizzy to even remember you were sad. You’re a rarity in this world, and you’re just as capable as anyone else. As long as he’s around he’ll never let you forget that.

Also, head pats for days and 100% calls you kid.

I feel like I barely have to even explain this one. It’s Sam, he’s younger and more extravagant. Not rly dad material, he gives off more older relative/big brother vibes.

He’s got his own stuff going on plus a shop to run, he may not be around you 24/7 but would definitely encourage you to stop by and visit literally anytime. He absolutely loves your company and showing you all his little tips and tricks.

You can guarantee he’d sometimes let you’d off the hook when paying for supplies, for no particular reason at all of course. “I’m closing up shop for the night anyway, now run along little imp ‘fore the shadows get ya!”

Likes teasing you, just playful little pranks and jabs to keep you on your toes. Would never dream of doing anything remotely malicious, even does check-ins if your reaction isn’t the happiest.

Speaking of check-ins, I feel like he’d ask you about how things are going every single time you visit him. Since he’s on the younger side too he’d definitely be more in the know about how to deal with certain things, and give you more down to earth advice. The jump from free spirited shop keep to serious guardian is wild.

Also for any of my black/poc MCs out there, he has your back(especially if you were homesick). Another fully welcomed slice of culture, I have a personal headacannon that he’d be extremely helpful on hair days too. Not to say no one else is, but he would take pride in you sticking close to your roots(heh, get it). As well as picking out really cool styles for you. Maybe even have some spells to let you color it, the possibilities are endless.

A little protective but he doesn’t outright distrust anyone neither believes in shielding you. You gotta fight you’re own battles, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be there every step of the way. When you’re knocked down he’ll pick you right back up, now equipped with a few new tricks up your sleeve. And perhaps on some days many may notice that you have more than one shadow following behind you.

Loves you to death and beyond that, he’ll make sure everyday is full of laughs and you have what you need to stand out from the rest.

GRANDPA TREIN

This man has gray hairs, years of wisdom, and put multiple kids through college. He has earned this category.

I want to say since he already has a family of his own he wouldn’t completely take you in, but he’d definitely put you under his wing. Simply put he owns most the brain cells between all the staff, so he’d know not only how to but for your own sake that he should take care of you.

The amount of times he’s had to steer you away from the advice of a certain principal, and to be the guy to refute the extra baggage anybody put on you is ridiculous. “But Crowley wanted me to get the supplies from the town this weekend, and then I have to host a tutoring session with the guys, and run another errand-” “You’re not doing that.” “But-” “No buts, none of it. Now sit down and finish your tea, I fear you’ll collapse if you think for another second.” Firmly believes no one as young as you should be dealing with the sheer amount of bullsh!t you deal with. And trust that he’s seen a lot of it in his time working at that place.

He’s the epitome of responsible caretaker, will set your priorities straight and be very transparent with you. If your getting too distracted to focus on your academics, or putting yourself last after everything/everybody you have to deal with. He won’t hold back, you’re apart of the equation, the most important part.

He’s also very well versed in the emotional aspects of a young ones life too. Sure he’s not the most touchy feely type, but on like a psychological level he understands and gives arguably the best and most proactive advice.

This isn’t his first rodeo, honestly a lot of it is just second nature to him. He just has a lot of sympathy for you and your situation, and despite his demeanor he’s not one to leave a literal stranded child to fend for themselves. He’s a professor not a monster, and of course you remind him a lot of his prime parenting days. Which he’s secretly very fond of.

He won’t say it out loud, well at least not in front of other people. Perhaps during a nice quiet evening in his office he’ll tell you how genuinely proud he is of you and your progress. You’ll always have a means of support in him, but don’t misunderstand him he doesn’t play favorites.(yes he does)