#shiver lacks braincells

[darkh-cristal-kh12]

A normal day in deepcut's Household pt. 2

6:05pm

Shiver_Me_Timbers has joined the chatroom

Shiver_Me_Timbers: dude those zaza brownies were lit! I'm so fucken baked rn!!!

Cap_3 has joined the chatroom

Cap_3: glad you liked them.

Shiver_Me_Timbers has left the chatroom

Cap_3 has left the chatroom

6:30 pm

The_Eel_Deal has joined the chatroom

The_Eel_Deal: 3 WTF!? shiver's making out with the sink!!!

[zoropookie]

WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — SIX

YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!

chapter five — chapter seven

soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader

You've had many hangovers. You've fell in the bathtub once after your nightly trip in the dark, or maybe more than once? Either way, you've hit your head enough that your consciousness was a concern. You were definitely lacking braincells...

And somehow, none of those moments ever compared to how you felt right now. Prying your eyes open, the throbbing was directed at the intricate grooves of your brain. Every time you tried to twist over to a better angle, your forehead touched something cold, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't see anything, not even a light that could present tiself as a crack. Laying there on your back helplessly, trying to recollect your steps before. As your brain wandered, with little reaction you mustered, you gasped once you were struck with your last moments.

'Imagine pulling a cheap ass shot like that and still losing', pushed to the front in particular. Your eyes dulled, mute rage in the void.

Whatever, loser. What a bold thing to say to someone who's running for their life from you, it's almost as if you're a threat to society.

What did he even do with you? Lifting your hands hesitantly to confirm your suspicions, your wrists were stopped by something hard and the clanking sound of you driving them onto the top making a thick thudding. Your wrists were tied together, alongside with your entire body, struggling to find breath with the rope hugging your ribs.

Your breath caught in your throat, suffocating by the second, your entire body moving in the rhythm of the car. At first you thought you were inside of a really prickly casket, but then as you thought about the acceleration and the subtle vibrations on your back, you squinted.

You were in his trunk, weren't you.

You reached out again, your joined hands reached out again to the top as you brushed your hands against the wired fabric, confirming your assumptions. You exhaled largely, hands falling limp back onto your torso, closing your eyes again to no avail.

Out of everything that you could have wished right now, you could have settled with watching Gossip Girl on your small television with the risk of getting evicted the next day. You could have asked Yoimiya or Itto for money to keep you afloat and be forever indebted to them, you could seduce your landlord, in a sense. You could have done anything right now, and been cozy. Not content, but cozy.

You just shouldn't have been nosy, maybe. Though, there's something ironic about everything you've read about in those niche Twilight fanfictions coming to life now. Just with twelve times the fear those people had getting napped by the vampires.

You moved your shoulders to reach for the rest of the trunk to find something you could get your hands on, but instead of that, you were met with something soft and cold instead. Gripping it, the texture felt stretchy in your hands, fluid and movable. You moved your hands further up, and immediately drew your hands away when you felt something wet.

The smell of copper overwhelmed your senses once your fingers were coated in what smelled like old pennies, hanging heavy around you.

Cringing, your fingers curled. "Oh my god," You whispered to yourself in a shaky tone, breath lapsing as you hit the back of your head against the trunk. You pushed yourself to the furthest point, and cried. "You fucking freak! I can't even be in here in peace?!"

The feeling of the other person was burnt into your head, his skin still soft and the bloodied clothing of his torso, the subtle pierced skin of his abdomen. Squeezing your eyes shut as you felt them sting with uncladded weeping. You were about to have a panic attack, but on the bright side, the fact that your only company was a newly made corpse was pretty funny.

Funny enough to make you hysterical, at least. You weren't interested in spending your last moments being a little bitch about it, at least, and you immediately started brainstorming in tears about how you were going to get out of here. Or call for help.

taglist is open as of ch.5!

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Darling nerd getting fed up with damons low scores that they try their best to not lose patience and try a different approach: creating a reward system.

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader everyday tidbits: reward system

A bit nsfw, if not full on nsfw on this one. Context: This will be in a situationship era between the two of you.

MY INBOX IS NOW FREE HUHU (again, there are times that my inbox gets a bit fecky, and not receive requests. So if I didn't get to answer yours, I AM SO SORRY (╥﹏╥)) So, REQUESTS ARE OPEN BACK AGAIN, I will be a bit slow answering them tho... School and stuff.

You were getting frustrated from the lack of improvement in Damon's side. It was almost as if no new information is trickling in his brain, and those information will just become mush for him to ignore.

You looked at him, playing basketball with his teammates who dragged him onto the court after you yelled at him for the nth time for not knowing how to make a lesson plan despite demonstrating so much.

You were thinking of what to do. Sure, you could always continue to try and teach him with futile efforts. Or...

Damon's head whipped towards you, goofily grinning and blowing you a kiss.

"This shot is for you!" He yelled, before trying to shoot a basketball backwards. It somehow smoothly sunk on the net that made you nod and clap in admiration.

He gave another goofy grin and bounded towards you like a big puppy.

"See! I did all of that." He said, his tone light and happy. "So, what's my reward? A kiss on the cheek? A hug?"

And everything clicked.

"A reward system. Of course. How come I never thought of this before..." You muttered, placing your hand on your chin. "Okay..."

Damon tilted his head, not knowing what you're saying.

"Damon, i'll see you tomorrow... In my house. Okay?" You said, a bit out of breath from the easy solution you thought. "I need to go for now. Bye!"

You ran away, making Damon try to reach out to you, a small frown on his face. He looked like he was just abandoned by his owner.

By tomorrow, Damon shocked, sat down on the floor as you were gingerly sitting on his lap.

He swallowed a big gulp, his body fidgeting as he tried to ignore your scent. Your body was literally touching his, every single braincell firing up in his brain, his nerves on high alert. Your thighs on his, your buttocks, your back... It was all too much.

"So, when you make objectives, you need to make sure that..."

What were you even talking about? All he could think was how your back pressed on his chest. On how easy it is to manhandle you to the ground and fuc...

Okay, he needs to consentrate.

BUT HOW CAN HE THOUGH?

He placed a shaky palm on his mouth, preventing him from wanting to bite your neck. It was so close to his lips. Just one lean and...

"Are you paying attention?" You asked him, a bit annoyed.

"Y-yeah... I am..." He already knew these stuff, so this was so unnecessary. But god did it open to opportunities.

Then he felt it.

A twitch.

'No no no no don't do this...' He whispered in his head, his cock wanting to harden. 'Not now!'

But it didn't listen.

You felt a proding sensation below you, and you froze. You know what that meant, and you know what you did.

"... When it comes to objectives..." Your voice noticeably got a bit huskier as you whispered, slowly moving your hips back and forth, making Damon groan. "You need to hit three objective types. What are those?"

"Ah..." Damon gulped, his fingers digging onto your hips. "Cognitive..."

"Mhmm... And what does cognitive hit?"

"Knowledge... Brain, whatever when it comes to... book smart intelligence..." He gave out a shaky sigh as you continued to grind.

"Good. Next is?"

"Affective... Hah..." Damon bit his lip to stop the drool from leaking his lips. His cock twitched from the pleasure, as he buried his face on your shoulder. You could feel how hot he is.

"And what does affective imply?"

You felt yourself getting aroused too, and you shivered from how Damon is reacting to your teases.

He was now speechless, only focusing on the pleasure as he mindlessly thrusted, grinding on your clothed honeypot that made you buckle too.

But you need to be relentless.

"Come on now, if you can answer, there will be a reward..." you whispered, prodding him to continue.

His body froze when you said reward, before his brain went rapid fire once more from being mush.

"Affective focuses on having children or students apply the lesson they learnt in real life. Then the last one, psychomotor, requires students to actively move and create."

Panting, he looked at you hazily, his eyes deep and muddled with arousal.

"Now, my reward?"

And that's how you found yourself, bent over your coffee table, your lips spilling drool all over the surface as Damon pounds into your tight channel. His fingers, digging onto your mouth as you whimpered and whined underneath him.

"Shh... Shh... Don't be too loud, babe..." He whispered, his throat giving an audible gulp as he sweated. His length buried deep inside you and brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly, making you jolt. "Your parents... They'll hear us..."

Footfalls can be heard outside, but none of them lingered. So Damon continued to thrust in and out of you, begging for sweet release like an animal that he is.

Maybe a reward system is too effective.

[genshxn]

✤ 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜: 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

mild(?) spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (but probably everyone knows it by now let's be honest)

written pre-3.3

author drivel. what's up, i've got covid and a head full of cotton and I'm making it your problem too, so here's some unsolicited 'fluffy' scaramouche word vomit. as such, please excuse any egregious spelling/grammar mistakes or consistency errors because lord knows i'm gonna fuck something up with my negative braincells rn.

sorry about the lack of consistency with scaramouche's name. there are so many bloody things you can call that lil piece of shit

synopsis. under kusanali's order, you're in charge of scaramouche's domestication. for now, you've fallen sick with a tenacious cold, and as part of his 'training', scaramouche has to look after you.

contents. y/n has a cold (and the shivers), scaramouche being scaramouche, slight crack, fluff, and scaramouche screaming.

w.c. 2.2k

HEY HEY YOU CAN READ PART 2 HERE

You let out a prolonged, melodramatic groan. Colds suck. You were piled under blanket after blanket, nestled in amongst a halo of pillows, banished to your quarters near the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Despite being half buried alive, you were still trying your best not to shiver. Your fever has rotated to its chills period, and nothing was helping.

You sigh. The low-lit room and radio silence weren't helping your awful feeling. Curse human fragility and its ability to fall victim to microscopic beings not even really considered "alive".

"Augh, I feel like shit..."

The door slams open. "You look like shit." In walks Scaramouche—the man of many names—with a tray of food in hand and blankets strung over his slender shoulders like an oversized, pompous collar. Same as ever, he speaks with a sharp tongue. It's not so much sarcasm aimed at you rather than it simply being the puppet's nature.

"Yeah, thanks Bowlcut." You cough back in reply.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He huffs, gently setting down the tray on a small table next to you, contrary to his grouchy demeanour. Next, he sheds himself of the blankets, sticking them at the foot of your bed.

"As many times as I've told you to not announce your arrival with 'n insult aimed a' me." You grunt out, voice stuffy and croaky from your sinuses feeling like they're about to blow up. "Try your opening line again, Bowlcut."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he belligerently changes his greeting. "I brought your food." He dramatically gestures to the table beside you, sarcastically showing off the dishes with the added pizzazz of some jazz hands.

"Much better." You pathetically sit up, cascades of green blankets falling off your form. The movement makes your wonky head spin slightly.

"If you don't hurry up and eat it, I'm gonna eat it myself." He pulls a chair up from behind him and sticks himself down on it, leaning back with one leg crossed on top of the other. "It smells good." He looks between you and the food expectantly.

"I'd love to be able to smell it, but unfortunately it feels like a slime's taken refuge in my sinuses right now." You shuffle over to the edge of the bed to get closer, still wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. You shudder at the loss of warmth. "Thanks for bringing my food, Scaramouche."

To your surprise, you're met with silence from him. Normally he has some sort of surly quip to fire back at anything you say, but not this time it seems. "...What're you gawking at?" He notices your blatant staring.

"You feeling alright? You're unusually quiet."

"I should be the one asking you that question." His half-assed sarcastic tone betrays his actual message with that line. He stares at some point on the floor in front of him, unable to meet your gaze. "I-it's— um... just..."

"Just what?" You blink, tilting your head slightly.

"Can you not call me that?" His voice is much quieter than normal. He sounds almost... defeated. A very uncharacteristic tone for someone who refuses to accept defeat (despite it being the only thing he's been faced with in recent times).

"You mean Sca—"

"Did you not hear what I just said?" He quickly cuts you off.

"Ah, sorry." You look down at the same spot on the floor for a moment. "What would you like to be called then?"

He doesn't answer, still looking downcast.

"I think I've heard you use Wanderer once. I could call you that."

"What? Don't call me that. I just said that because I couldn't think of anything to say to some rando, like... one time!" His expression is right back to his usual self: a look of confused contempt.

"What about your other name, Kunikuzushi? I could also call you a shortened version, like... Niku?"

"Do not call me that. Niku means 'meat'. Of all things, you picked out that?" He throws his arms up in response. "Kunikuzushi or whatever works, I guess... Just don't call me Scaramouche. Or Bowlcut. OR NIKU." Upon the final word, he crosses his arms over himself like a child having a tantrum. "Now eat your food or I'm gonna take the halva for myself and feed you the... other thing... myself."

"Alright, alright." You turn to look down at the food. As you've had with your past meals, there was a dessert side of Halvamazd, made specially by Nahida for you, but curiously, the main dish itself was different than the usual Sumeran cuisine. It looks like some sort of Inazuman dish that you're not sure you've ever seen before. You stare at it curiously, and he notices.

"What, do you not like it?" Kunikuzushi frowns, staring intently at your face. His voice is unexpectedly intense.

"Oh, nothing like that, I just wasn't expecting an Inazuman dinner today." You wave your hands around slightly beneath the blanket.

"I-if you wanna blame anyone, blame the Radish," he says, sitting back, crossing his arms again. "It was her idea..." He trails off suspiciously, looking off to the side.

With that reaction? "Yeah right."

"It was!" He exclaims defensively. "Gods, are you sure you're sick? You're still as annoying as ever."

"Either way, it looks really good. What is it?"

At your words, Kunikuzushi calms down with a sigh. "It's my take on chazuke. Rice with some tea poured on top, plus some toppings. I made it, so of course it's going to be delicious." He declares confidently, puffing his flat chest.

"You made it for me?"

He stops in his tracks, lavender eyes going wide once he realizes he just blew his nonexistent cover. He sputters out some unintelligible nonsense before ultimately slumping down and crossing his arms grumpily for the third time. "Yes. Yes, I did. There, are you happy? I made it for you and it was my idea."

"Thank you very much, Ku. It looks delicious." You smile warmly at him. He looks at you with wide eyes, expression almost unreadable. His mouth parts, maybe to say something in response, but nothing comes out.

You unsheathe your hands from the blanket and begin to eat the dish. While your senses of smell and taste have been dampened by the cold, you can still taste the softly bitter and sweet flavours of the dish dancing over your tongue. It's the perfect temperature, to boot. Hot, but still cool enough to not burn your already shredded throat. Because your appetite isn't quite what it normally is, the light dish hits just right. The whole time, Kunikuzushi carefully—almost nervously—watches you wolf down the dish.

Once you finish it, you place the bowl and utensils back on the tray. "That was so good. Exactly what I needed." You wrap the blanket back around yourself, pulling it tighter to try and preserve your limited warmth. "You'll have to make it for me again when I'm better so I can really appreciate the taste."

"...Sure." He says shortly. His response isn't curt like normal, but just... awkward. You sit there awkwardly as well, trying to gather up all your layers of blankets again to reassemble your blanket cocoon. You're putting in a bit too much effort to try and not shiver. Kunikuzushi watches you for a minute, and then wordlessly moves to pick up the extra blankets he brought from the end of the bed.

"Oh, than—" Instead of simply handing them to you like you thought he would, he layers you in them, wrapping them around you himself. He kneels on the bed, torso close to your head. As he piles on blanket after blanket, his hands brush all over your shoulders. He's so close that you can feel a faint warmth radiating off him. An idea cha cha slides into your head.

"You look all... not even pathetic, just sad when you're sick and cold."

You've been around the grumpy puppet long enough to know that what he's really saying is that he doesn't like seeing you look miserable. Once you're suitably wrapped, he places one final blanket on top, draping it over the top of your head like a hooded cloak or veil. He takes a step back to examine his blanket-wrapping handiwork. Suitably happy with it, he decides to return back to his chair. But before he can get too far, you manage to grab his slender wrist, earning a shocked sputter from him.

"The blankets aren't enough. I'm still cold."

"What?! What else could you possibly need to—"

"You can't get sick, right?"

"No, not from colds or viruses or whatever, hence why I'm he—wait, what're yo—" Kunikuzushi squints at you suspiciously, aware of sinister things lingering in the air.

"You're warm. Be my heater for a bit."

"H-has your fever turned you delusional?!"

"Probably." You try to suppress a shiver unsuccessfully. "But c'mon, you said that you wouldn't get sick. Please?" You look at him expectantly,

Kunikuzushi looks at you with all sorts of conflicting feelings flitting across his twitching, reddening face, bubbling up until he finally concedes with a massive sigh. "F-fine." He puffs, eyes completely avoiding your gaze. He's too embarrassed to look anywhere near you. "At least let me do something first..." He sits on the edge of the bed and sheds his loose-sitting kimono and robes, leaving them folded neatly on the edge. Now he's in just that semi-transparent undershirt and regular shorts.

You stare at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"What? I don't wanna overheat." He frowns, turning away from your gaze slightly. "If you're really going to... c-cling to me or whatever, lose at least two of the blankets."

"But 'm cold."

"That's your brain gaslighting you into thinking you're cold. Your 'shivers' will dissipate once I'm under there with you. If you overheat, your brain will become even more fried, and then you'll be completely useless."

Now it's your turn to let out a massive sigh with a reluctant "Fiiiiine." The outer two layers of your blanket cocoon come off, discarded to the floor next to you. You shuffle back to your original position, lying under the covers, wrapped in blankets. Kunikuzushi shuffles up next to you, hesitates for a second and then pulls the new outer blanket up a little to sit it just on top of your head. That was the second time he did that.

"What's the point of that?"

"What?"

"Move the blanket on top of my head?"

"...Um. I... do it sometimes. I like the feeling of it. I don't know, I thought you might—"

Instead, you cut him off by reaching out and putting part of the blanket on top of his head as well. He immediately goes quiet with wide eyes.

"Come on heater, get under the blankets. You talk a lot."

He makes a miffed grunt and shuffles under the covers, finding his way through all the blankets until he was right against you. You rotate your body to face him for optimal surface area coverage and close your eyes with a content exhale.

The two of you remain like this for a while, you lying next to the slightly stiff but warm Kunikuzushi. He doesn't move much and is completely silent aside from the very faint sound of his gentle breath. (does he breathe? idk lol) He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he seems to loosen up a little. You smile faintly at the thought, but it's quickly wiped from your face and replaced with a confused frown because he turns to face you and places his chin on top of your head. You can feel his soft breath on top of your head. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, staring right at the view in front of you—his neck. But oh, he's not done. Next, he pulls you slightly closer to him and then takes your hand in his own and gently laces your fingers with his. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

Next, he begins to mutter to himself. There's absolutely no way he's asleep—he must think you're asleep.

"Damnit... Fuck you, (Y/N)..."

You have to try SO hard to remain silent and not get offended and hit him with 'Bowlcut', but the dizzying polarity between his actions and his words is enough to keep you silent for now.

"Making me feel all this shit... Not even the Radish really knows what these feelings are."

You blink, eyes wide. You feel a cough coming on. This is not good. Your cover's gonna be blown.

"You're gonna be the end of me. Toying with my already shattered heart like I'm your plaything... Your smile, now calling me Ku... all these promises and things you do... I want to hate you, but I can't."

You can't hold it in anymore. You quickly push off his chest and jerk your head in the opposite direction so you don't have a coughing fit right on his chest. When you finally finish and turn back around, you're faced with a red-faced Kunikuzushi, looking absolutely mortified.

"YOU WERE AWAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME?!"

You bit your lips together awkwardly.

"AND YOU HEARD IT ALL?!"

You cough again. "Yep."

Instead of having a response that could somehow qualify as normal, his stare simply goes blank for a second until he proceeds to konk out, eyes closing and head flopping down onto the pillow.

He short-circuited.

[2-cute-4-school]

𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴/𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦

requested by the national cutie pie @heartyyjeno​

Mark Lee

he can be a bit oblivious sometimes bless his soul꒰๑˃͈꒵˂͈๑꒱୭

so he’s kinda clueless as why tf you’re so pouty 

has he said anything stupid earlier? forgotten any important date?? or... even worse

ARE YOU ON YOUR PERIOD?? (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ  ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵖᵉʳᶦᵒᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

he’s too nervous to even prod at you rn

especially after a trainee who just happens to be wearing his hoodie passes by and you-

did you just growl?!?? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

but you’re his baby and you’re just SO deflated and he HATES seeing you anything but happy and lively so he just can’t stand by and watch you so upset cuz his lil heart hurts too (๑◕︵◕๑)

��babe, are you uh alright?”

“yeah, just a little bit cold” *trying to subtly hint him*

“oh! that’s not good, you should have dressed warmer, should i go ask manager-hyung to turn up the heating in the practice room??”

 ‘maybe i should just set your ass on fire to warm up’ (►˛◄’!)

“or do you maybe want my hoodie?? it should be enough so you won’t be cold anymore, where did i... ohhhhh”

*light bulb turning on above his head* (〇o〇；)

“it’s fine mark, it’s not like you love me anyway it’s fine i should have seen this coming” *loud fake sobbing in your hands* *mark panic*

“no no baby come on-”

“let’s just get the divorce papers, mark lee!!!!”

“but we’re not married-” *sobbing intensifies* “i’m sorry, I’M SORRY!!! i didn’t mean to!! here, just a second!!” (´⊙ω⊙`)！

this specimen just took off his shirt and draped it over you in the middle of the practice room

“mark, wtf are you doing?!?? i was only kidding!!”

“how was i supposed to know, what if you were seriously upset-”

“hyung, can you help-”  *chenle slams door closed* *dolphin screams* “you’re paying for my eyeball removal surgery, you nasties!!”

“chenle NO”

Huang Renjun

my man here catches on pretty quickly what your pout is about

you didn’t make it exactly hard to notice either (；¬д¬)

“y/n, want some ice cream?”

“no, i’m cold, you can shove it up yo ass and share with dear [redacted]”

jesus i wonder why your s/o is mad renjun

he’s not sure how to approach the situation at first, worried that he might get a tube of ice shoved somewhere he wouldn’t want it to ゞ◎Д◎ヾ

he decides to just be himself read as blunt

“baby come oooon, i can ask them to give it back”

“no, then i’ll seem like a possessive bitch” (Θ︹Θ)ს

“don’t call yourself that!! but then should i just run back to the dorms and get another hoodie?”

“no, i missed you this week, i don’t want you to leave”

“then you can just come with me?” (≖^≖๑ )ﾌ

“but i’m too lazy to get up” same reader same

renjun : ఠ ͟ಠ then wth DO YOU WANT ?!!!?!!

your soul renjun

he’s a bit lost and you’re kinda under the weather too and he HATES it because you’re his kitten and he CAN’T and WON’T allow you to feel anyhting but like absolute royalty with him ೕ(⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́ฅ)

so he just drapes himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around you, caging you in a warm embrace and nuzzling his cheek into yours

“who needs a hoodie when they’ve got a junnie??!?!” (˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑)

how could anyone stay mad when a cutie like renjun just curls himself around you and pulls you flush against himself, wrapping his limbs around you and peppering kisses everywhere in reach

you’re basically purring in content at this how could you not 」(￣▽￣」)

depending on how tired the both of you are, you might qualify for a good ol’ nap cuddled up against renjun 

but don’t let this fool you

you AIN’T gona catch him making the same mistake again

he’s asking you first about absolutely anything

“no renjun, i don’t need the last of your toilet paper, why do you even- you know what, don’t answer that, just go take a shit in peace” Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

Lee Jeno

we all know jeno is too much of a sweetheart to say ‘no’ (๑′ᴗ‵๑)

he might be freezing himself and he’d still give his hoodie away to the first person who asks learn how to say NO kids

so now you’re both freezing and on top of everything you’re upset too

that’s a DOUBLE KILL for sweet babie jeno (๑◕︵◕๑)

“babe i’m sorry how was i supposed to know you don’t like them??”

“it’s not even that, jeno, you’re literally shivering!! why would you give it if you’re cold too?”

and that’s when jeno’s bf sathelit sprung into action

“wait... ‘too’?? are you cold, my baby??!??!?” (ʘᗩʘ’)

“no, wait, i mean yes, but that’s not-”

“i’ll be back in a second” he isn’t even kidding

he comes back with a blanket AND heating pads (that he doesn’t miss a second to clutch to your cheeks and then coo at your fish face)

“where did you get these from?” *suspicious*

he tells you he borrowed stole them from hyuck by politely asking for them threatening with a flex of his arm while eye smiling the entire time hyuck stood no chance ( ⚆ ᴗ ⚆ ) *nervous chuckle*

but jeno allows you no debating time before he wraps you in the blanket like a lil cutie patootie WARM burrito and leaves a *smooch* to your forehead ( ˘ ³˘)♥

you can spend an eternity arguing with him that you should take turns since he’s cold too, he isn’t taking ANY OF IT

his bubs isn’t allowed to be cold and he wants you to forget about who he lent his hoodie to too

the only way you can get him to relent is refusing to stay cocooned in it

“y/n, wear it or you’ll catch a cold!!” ( •̀ω•́ )σ

“sorry to burst your bubble, but you can and will catch a cold too!!”

that’s how you found yourself sandwiched between jeno’s arms, suffocating from both his bodt warmth and the blanket enveloping THE BOTH of you

best sauna would 110% recommend ୧( ⁼̴̶̤̀ω⁼̴̶̤́ )૭

Lee Donghyuck

my man here knows EXACTLY what he’s doing once *that person* asks him for his hoodie with a flirty smile

he lends it over with that shit eating grin but not without watching from the corner of his eye as you deflated like a loney baloney ( ◞᷄દ◟᷅ )

pretends to not notice your pout and lack of answers to his remarks

“y/n, wanna order chinese tonight?”

sweet, but not on my watch asshole *silence* (˵¯͒⌢͗¯͒˵)

“i’ll take that as a yes, i’ve been craving some seaweed soup”

*eye twitch*

‘fine u lil booger two can play at this game’ (•̀o•́)ง

you leave the room and return... wrapped up in MARK’S sweater and plop down back next to hyuck proudly (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)

he tenses up and turns to you

“y/n” ooooh damn you’re in deep shit

*you bat your eyelashes innocently* “yes my dear?”

“you stink, can you move further away?”

you... did not... JUST HEAR THAT??!?!!? (ﾉꐦ ⊙曲ఠ)ﾉ彡┻━┻

but you get up and walk with your tail between your legs to the other side of the room and curl up in a ball of failure

you both do your own things insilence until-

*sniffle* *hiccup* *SNIFFLE*

“y/n?” *silence*”baby??” *hiccup*

oh no oh no NO NO, hyuck’s baby ain’t crying on his watch (╯’□’)╯

he DASHES to your side and envelops you in his arms while cooing apologies and sweet nothings in your ear

“come on baby, you know i didn’t mean it, i just want your attention and your attention only and i only meant that mark’s hoodie stinks, never you, you’re my baby, you can’t-” ヾ( •́д•̀ ;)ﾉ

and then your shoulders start shaking and hyuck starts to actually worry until your sobs turn into... giggles?? hold up, WHAT??

he turns you around just to see you in a fit of giggles, the only tears present are the ones building up in your eyes from laughter

“oh you think you’re smart, don’t you??” (⁎⁍̴̀﹃ ⁍̴́⁎)♡

ATTACC OF TICKLES FOR YOU

Na Jaemin

another sweetheart tbh who wouldnt be able to refuse out of courtesy

but he just KNOWS he fcked up the moment you turn away when he leans in to kiss you (︶︹︺) ╯ ( ് દ ് )

but he ain’t giving up so easily

no matter how upset you are, depriving him of his dose of kisses? federal crime!!!! CRUELTY!!!!!!! ╰[ ಠ Ĺ̯ಠ]╯

so he keeps on pushing his affections on you

a clutching back hug, a rushed kiss wherever he is able to land it considering your struggle to avoid him, a nuzzle against your cheek, a pinch to your cheeks, a failed attempt to lockyour hands together

my man here tries not to show disappointment whenever you succesfully escape his ♡ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 ♡   

jaemin, grumbling: “you and jisungie, a couple of hooligans, i’ll leave you on the welcome mat tonight for this” (҂⌣̀_⌣́) he won’t he loves you too much, he can’t fall asleep if he’s not 110% sure you’re well fed and happy

but he still babies you to no end

“come on my baby, what should i do so you forgive me hm?”( *¯ ³¯*)♡

you, an entire baby: *huff* “so now you care huh? go ask or no, go TAKE CARE of [redacted]” 

jaemin’s last braincell performing swan lake on thin ice male version 2020 be like ₍₍ ◝( ･’ω’･ )◟ ⁾⁾

so he sighs and leaves the room

so NOW you’re worrying that mayyyybe you pushed him a bit too far

but before you even get the chance to walk down the hallway in your mighty search for your boyfriend, everything suddenly goes black

no you didn’t pass out or did you

jaemin just creeped up on you and ENGULFED you in a blanket hug for which he DEFINITELY didn’t run a marathon to buy༼つ ் ▽ ் ༽つ

when you finally manage to worm your head out of the fluffy cocoon he engulfed you in, your words were still muffled

“nana?? how did you even-???”

he just hugs you tighter and cuts off your questions

“shhh, all that matters is that you are ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE and i am maybe perhaps forgiven??”  ◕ ‿ ◕ 

how could you ever refuse this precious soul

Zhong Chenle

so i can see one(1) scenario in which he would lend his hoodie to someone he SPECIFICALLY knows you don’t fancy

if you had a let’s say disagreement before and we all know he can be PETTY big time sooo basically he’d do it just to spite you ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

and the lil shiz looks SO PROUD of himself

but you’re not letting the brat win we ain’t no losers _へ__(‾◡◝ )>

so you just creep up behind him and stick your glacier hands up his shirt and rest them on his warm back

when i’m telling you he broke the record for the highest jump and most likely shattered any windows in the vicinity ༻(〃ຶ⌂〃ຶ)

“y/n!!!! keep your ice cubes to yourself!!”

“but i’m cold”

“your cold, your problem”

“watch me say the same thing when jaemin’s chasing you around with a wooden ruler” （；¬＿¬)

things settle down after that

or so he thought!!!!! (งಠل͜ಠ)ง never let your guard down lele sigh

another sneak attack to make sure chenle gets a SOUR taste of absolutely pure pettiness so he gets sick of it himself lol

this time a bitch ain’t joking

you shove your entire head under his shirt and then slither yourself so the top of your head pops out of chenle’s shirt collar let’s hope chenle made the wise choice of wearing a loose shirt so you both won’t suffocate

so you just blink up at him like (◕ᴥ◕)

and chenle is shrieking the entire time sigh

and while you’re too cute for him, its not exactly comfortable for either of you so he pats your head and begs asks you to get out of his shirt(?)

“am i getting your hoodie then?”

“i can’t just barge in and ask for it back”

“alright them i’m suffocating you FUN” (╯✧∇✧)╯

“i’m buying you an entire store of hoodies, JUST GET.OUT!!!”(;≧皿≦）

you have to restrain him for actually going on a shopping spree cuz he LOVES spoiling you but he pays in cuddles while you’re snuggling in your favourite hoodie of his

Park Jisung

confused babie /(@ﾟﾍﾟ@) a mood 

he probably lent his hoodie cause he was too shy to refuse and didn’t even know you don’t like the person he gave it to

and then he’s clueless when you’re pouty ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

jisung: “do you want some water??”

you: *grumbling visibly upset* ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

jisung, at a safe distance away from you, scratching his head, rethinking life choices: “...okay, maybe not. how about choco milk?”

he keeps an eye on you but other than that he’s LOST lol

that’s when the ✨𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓼✨ kick in

emergency contact momma jaemin is the first person jisung calls once he escaped to the ‘bathroom’

“jisung, you know i love you, BUT ARE YOU DUMB?? HOW COULD YOU- blahblahblah” my man is listening to an entire rant about how to treat your partner well 101 (۶* ‘ꆚ’)۶”

now that he knows the theory, he needs the practice

but you might already worry that he fell in the toilet with how long he’s been gone for god forbid you fall into that dark void

so he calls chenle

“chenle, i’m treating you to hotpot if you bring me a blanket or hoodie in less than 5 minutes”

“add in some steak and it’s a deal” ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

“i’m so selling your soul for a piece of gum, FINE!! just be quick!!”

THIS BOI RIGHT HERE!! A TREASURE!!!! he would step on his honour just to make sure his bubs is hapyy ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰

so after he excuses himself again to retrieve the blanket from chenle

he BURRITO WRAPS you in it and then sits down next to your confused but undeniably happy form and pats your head nervously while he rambles you’re still his most sought after for of comfort no matter what

“i’m sorry for being a bad boyfriend, i should have realized you’d be cold too and that i should always put you first and i-”

you cut him off with a chaste kiss to his cheek which definetely doesn’t leave him speechless and tomato red in the cheeks (๑♡⌓♡๑)

“it’s okay, i was just being dramatic, you should always put yourself first tho, okay baby??”

baby is malfunctioning but he still nods mindlessly and kisses your cheek back ( ᵅั ᴈ ᵅั;)

[cowandcrowbydaylight]

i got possessed to write orgasm denial kink hell yeah

imagine starting a trial and realizing it's michael. he finds u first and downs you, but doesnt pick you up or hook you. he walks away and youre like "wtf". eventually someone comes along and picks you up, and you try to go back to what you should be doing, but within a few minutes he's found you and downed you again. rinse and repeat, but in between keeping you down, you notice him picking off the others- a hook here, a hook there... eventually its you and one other person left. they try, without much hope, to pick you up, but michael stops them, downs them. he hooks them, and at this point you're fuming mad. why is he so determined for you- you specifically- to be confined to the dirt for the whole trial? well, as the entity takes the other person, you get your answer. he re-appears, shadow looming over you. you glare up at him defiantly, but rather than go to pick you up, he kneels between your legs, burying his knife into the dirt just out of your reach. you've realized what he's got in mind by now, of course; and if you hadn't, the scorchingly-hot hardness he grinds against you would clue you in. he doesn't waste any more time- he's already had to waste enough, taking care of the other survivors. your pants and undies are off in a jiffy, and you hear his zipper scrape open. he rubs the head of his cock against your slit, and you think you can just barely hear him huff a sigh, muffled by his mask. you're not exactly wet, as you are in admittedly quite a lot of pain, but that doesn't stop him. he presses into you, and you can't stop yourself from letting loose a choked sob. his length and girth are something else even when you're fully ready, so for him to push on in when you're most assuredly not? well, it hurts. there's no other way around it. he grabs one of your ankles and flips you 90 degrees, so that you go from laying on your back to on your side, and positions his hips to the angle he wants as he forces his way fully inside. and for as much as it hurts, as much as you're burning at the intrusion and at your injuries, your back arcs. his thick cock puts exquisite friction on your g-spot, and as soon as he's got you both positioned just right, he's relentless. pain is searing through your whole body, but pleasure is just behind it, making your toes curl as you cry and sob and plead. you're not sure yourself if you're begging him to stop or to speed up. you can feel your cunt fluttering and clenching around him as more and more of the ache turns pleasant. with whatever few braincells are still functioning, you drag your hand in towards your body- you had previously been reaching out, ready to try to crawl away, find the hatch- and your fingers move to paw at your clit. Unfortunately for you, that's not what he has in mind. he catches your wrist easily, making you groan loudly, begging even more clearly; "Please, Michael-" "I need it-" "At least touch me yourself-". He doesn't, and neither does he let go, squeezing your wrist to the point of pain, and though you'd already suspected it now you're sure that he's getting off on how hurt you are. You know you should be hoping that he'll hurry up and cum so that the torture will be over, and yet... it feels just good enough that you don't really want it to be. Which is lucky, because if there's one thing Michael doesn't lack, it's stamina. His strokes don't falter or slow, even as he drives his hips at an inhuman pace. One thing DOES betray him, though; the longer he goes, the louder he gets, pants and grunts becoming audible even through the mask. At one point, you could've sworn you even heard him mutter your name, though over the increasingly-wet sound of him slamming into you it's hard to be truly sure. Even with him not letting you touch your clit, you're starting to feel so good. But frustratingly; you know that without at least a little friction on your clit, you won't be able to cum. You lay there, pinned under his body, your own body wound tight as a spring, muscles screaming. You're so close, but you can't cum, and the pain from your injuries is only

heightening the sensation, driving you just shy of crazy. Finally, just when you're sure you're going to die of simultaneous over-and-under-stimulation, he lets go of your wrist, both his hands flying to your waist and squeezing. You yelp as he buries himself into you as hard as he can, his hips grinding against yours- for a few glorious seconds you can feel it on your clit, and you shiver, but it's not enough- and you feel a spray of heat inside you as he cums absolute buckets. He rocks his hips a little, bringing himself down, but it's not hard enough or in the right spot to stimulate your clit. You're clenching so hard, trying to keep him inside you, body still chasing the orgasm that your mind knows you're not going to be allowed to get. He pulls out anyway, making you groan with frustration. You make one last reach for your clit, but he slaps your hands away. You begrudgingly accept your fate.

the end or something i guess

[navegandoaciegas]

Sunday Sinday

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Priest AU]

Warnings: priest!Bucky, explicit language, smut, very desecrating and blasphemous thoughts and actions, masturbation, corruption kink, sex in a public place, hair pulling. Both parties are consenting adults. 

Summary: Father James preaches at Mass, and you think there’s no better time to sin than Sundays. 

A/N: Yesterday (9/9) was my 21st birthday and I’m posting filth to celebrate it. @whateveriwant​ and I share one horny braincell and we had the same idea, so here it is bb. 

Wide shoulders straining his black cassock, long chestnut hair pulled back, errant strands framing his chiselled face, thick rimmed glasses perched on top of his nose, Father James should be the depiction of all that’s holy, image and likeness of God himself, and instead he’s temptation in the flesh, and all you can think about as you do the sign of the cross and sit in the back pew is how much you want to do wrong with him.

“I confess to Almighty God and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do.”

His soft voice fills the room, subtle blush on his cheeks, the memory of all your shared sins in the fleeting looks he sends your way. His impure fantasies of you on your knees, your pretty lips around his cock, you taking his virginity of the altar, fucking under the cross, in the confessional, the filthy whispers in your ears, words he never imagined would come out of his mouth, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He never stood a chance against temptation, not if you’re the one luring him straight to Hell.   

You tune out of his sermon, merely standing, sitting, and kneeling as you see the others do: there’s the column he stood against as you sucked him off, the bench he bent you over and spanked you for the first time, the backdoor where the cleaning lady almost caught you.

“We listen to a reading from the New Testament.” he announces, clears his throat, adjusts his glasses, and opens the Holy Bible, fingers scanning over the verses he knows by heart.

There’s guilt in preaching what he doesn’t practice, but there’s also that exhilarating feeling of omnipotence that comes with being in love, that rush of adrenaline of loving in secret and doing the impossible to not get caught whilst wishing you would be.

The devoted churchgoers sitting in the front rows are too absorbed to notice you, hanging onto every word he recites, and the rest of the benches are empty, the saints and cherubs on the walls and Jesus on the cross your only witnesses as you quickly slip out of your panties and spread your legs, waiting for him to notice you, a teasing smile finding its way on your lips. 

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we-”

He looks up from the pages, and his eyes meet you, or more likely what’s between your legs. He stutters, John or Matthew’s verses escaping his mind, “If we- we, uh, confess, we confess, yes, our sins- uh.” 

Silence. Awkward, tense silence.

The white collar around his neck is suddenly too stiff and suffocating. Father James is like a deer caught in the headlights, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his eyes flit around the room. The blush on his cheeks betrays his sinful thoughts, and he can only hope, as he gapes in front of his audience, that they won’t notice the tent in his cassock, the sweat on his forehead, his heaving chest and the light fog forming in his glasses.

Whispers arise, ‘is Father James alright?’, the good, righteous churchgoers ask among themselves, concerned about their beloved priest. 

“As I was saying.” he clears his throat after a strangled apology, his fingertips finding the verse he was reading again, “If we say we have not sinned-”

His voice is a low buzz as he resumes his sermon, tension clear in his taut muscles and dry mouth; memories of all the times he’s taken you on these wooden benches invade your minds. All the times you’ve choked him with the cross around his neck, all those he’s spent on his knees, worshipping you like a goddess.

His pure soul you’ve tarnished with yours, the filthy words that sound so right on his holy mouth, his heady taste on your tongue when you swallow him whole, your wish to ruin him.

Your walls throb, arousal pooling at your entrance and rubbing on the fabric of your skirt as you grind your core on the bench, desperate for some sort of release.

He raises the chalice. “...It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me.” 

You were never one for good decisions, especially not when your brain is as fogged as his glasses. And there’s no better day to sin than Sunday, afterall.

You slip a finger inside your glistening folds, looking at him through lidded eyes, wishing he would be fucking you against the altar instead. Father James’ eyes go wide as saucers when he catches sight of you playing with your dripping pussy under your skirt, and he chokes on his wine, sputtering and coughing. 

You close your legs and bite your lips when someone walks up to him and pats his back to help him through his fit. He glares at you, and you stifle a laugh, the scene too comical to keep quiet.

“Forgive me.” he stutters to the small crowd, worry evident in their eyes, “It went down the wrong way.” he tries to ease the tension , “We can begin the communion rite now, if I don’t choke before.” and earns himself a collective chuckle.

The walk from the back to the front of the church seems endless. Thighs rubbing together and against your folds, a light breeze from an open door blows up your skirt just slightly, but enough that if someone were to pay attention, they’d see you’re not wearing any panties. 

You’re the last of the line, and by the time you get to him, the rest of the people are kneeling, their head bowed, oblivious to the tension between their good priest and the new girl in town.

“The Body of Christ.”

It’s a whisper, soft and intimate, meant for you and only you, the blue of his eyes swallowed by darkness when you part you lips wide open and stick your tongue out, a sight he’s seen countless times before, when you’re on your knees begging him to fuck your mouth. Air stills when your tongue brushes against his trembling fingertips, a shiver running down his spine, a groan almost escaping him because of what that damn tongue is capable of. Eyes locked together as you slowly chew, his gaze following the lump of your throat as you swallow.

“Amen.”

It’s lust, it’s sin, it’s wrong but it sure feels right. 

He watches your hips sway as you walk back to your seat, knowing your pussy is bare and wet for him beneath your skirt, and he can’t wait for mass to be over soon.

-

Incense is thick in the air, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his presence. A hand pulls your shirt and shoves you behind one of the columns to the sides where you usually wait for your sweet boy after mass. The marble is cold against your back, his hold like a vice on your flesh, and it stirs up something inside you. He’s never touched you like this, not your shy, doe eyed James, with his tentative kisses and trembling hands.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he whispers harshly, lips hovering over yours.

A gasp, you feign surprise. “Since when do you use that language? You kiss the cross with those lips?” 

“You're a bad influence.” he chuckles, “Anyone could have seen.”

“But no one did.” you retort “And that’s the fun part, baby boy.”

His fingers will leave bruises behind, you muse, as you take in the fire in his eyes and his body towering over yours. Your recklessness, your attitude, your pretty face, his lack of restraint, the way he can never resist you, his body that acts on its own, the animal instinct that snaps inside him when his hips thrust against yours and his hard cock presses on your stomach.

“You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?” 

Your tongue finds its way from his neck to the shell of his ears, leaving goosebumps behind, “Can you imagine the scandal?”

“You’re such a brat.” is his strangled response as his hips roll against you, pinning you to the wall. His breathing is ragged, his jaw clenched.

“I am a brat Father, do you think you can forgive me for that?” you purr, a hand sneaking between you and palming his aching cock through his cassock.

“I don’t know, angel.” he mumbles in your hair, a thick thigh coming between yours. “You need to repent, and then atone.”

“How can I do that, Father? I want it so, so bad.” 

Your skin is scorching hot, your head dizzy as his smell clings to you and intoxicates you. 

In a blur you find yourself spun around, the marble digging painfully in your cheeks, his hand groping your ass and kneading the flesh to the point that it hurts. A whimper escapes your mouth when he slowly grazes your things up to your aching core, and he cups your pussy with a possessive hold.

“You’re so wet, all for me?”

It’s a soft whisper, a stupid question maybe. 

“Only for you.”

He peppers your neck with small kisses, nipping your delicate skin. Your walls flutter around nothing, you’re desperate to feel him inside you, his thick cock filling you like no else’s can.

Father James is not a patient man.

His fingers swirl around your swollen clit, and you’re pretty sure there’s slick running down your thighs. The pressure in your cunt is almost painful as you wait for him to lift his cassock and free himself.

“Tell me you’re mine.” 

It’s a low vibration grunted in your ear as he strokes his length and lines himself with your entrance, his tip smearing your arousal around.

“I’m yours.”

He slams his cock inside you, and you mewl when he fully sheathes himself. He sets a low pace, taking his time to slide in and out of your, revelling in the way your walls grip him so tight. 

“More.” 

You’re not begging, you swear. You’re merely requesting. A command, really.

“You must say your penance first, sweetheart.” he taunts you, his wicked self coming out the more time he spends between your legs, and you find out you’re not so different after all. “An Act of Contrition, princess.”

You feel your pussy clench down on his cock, the coil getting tighter with each gentle stroke. Your mind is swirling, and you desperately cling onto the last rationality you’ve got left to remember your prayer. 

“My God.” you snarl when his hand pulls your hair, and you arch your back, this new position allowing his tip to reach the sweet spot inside you, “My God, I’m sorry for my- my sins” you moan, “with all my heart.”

He fastens his pace, the depravity of this all edging him closer to his release with each sweet sound you make. “Are you really?”

“Yes, yes, oh my God. I’m sorry, in choosing to do wrong and failing to do good,” you pant, tears streaming down your face, your breaths ragged, “I have sinned against you, whom I should-.” You’re sobbing, your hands clutching his shoulders for dear life, the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy so lewd as it resonates in the empty walls.

“Just like that, don’t stop, please.” you mewl, feeling the knot in your core about to unravel, your vision getting spotty around the edges.

You pull on his collar and tug him down, biting his lips, your tongue tasting his, his plush lips against yours, his hand around your neck. A harsh snap of his hips, one last look at the crying angel above you, and you come on his cock, your pussy so tight around him that he follows shortly after, his cock swelling inside you and filling you to the brim with his cum. Your limbs jerk uncontrollably, your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

His hot breath fans over your neck, strong arms holding you flush against his chest. A soft kiss on your forehead, a gentle smile on his lips, your heartbeat frantic, and not because of the orgasm that just wrecked you.

“Am I forgiven, Father?”

The rumble in his chest as he snickers warms your heart more than it should.

“You didn’t finish your prayers, princess. Looks like we’re gonna have to do this all over again.”

God, you love Sundays.

-

If you’re interested in more Father James, check this out. This one shot is part of Innocent! priest Bucky x Reader. I hope you all enjoyed it, and if you did, please leave some feedback, I love reading your comments. 

[elysianfiction]

Ronan: I think I met the one.

Altair: Oh? That's wonderful! What's their name?

Ronan:

Altair:

Altair: You didn't-

Ronan: I DIDN'T ASK FOR THEIR NAME

SVDJSK omg he would so do that,, he's going to feel the spark, dance with MC and then forget to ask the obvious questions... MC as cinderella confirmed.

See? That's why Ronan and Julian would, among other reasons, go well in a poly relationship.

Ronan: so, when did you realize you were in love with them?

Julian, recalling vividly the sight of MC shivering under the downpour, five minutes after they got rescued: ahaha, well, you know... The usual... What about you?

Ronan, remembering that first dance and his lack of braincells in regards of proper etiquette: yes

[airplanelanding]

Title: One Bride, Two Bride (My title generator website is starting to repeat a lot of them and so I'm not sure how many new ones there are in there). Pairing: praise the merthurian braincell praiseeeee

praise the merthurian braincell. 

asdkjfhdaskjfg what are we doing? okay, anyway, love this, this could be fun. Getting twin vibes. 

One Bride, Two Bride. 

“King Arthur, I am pleased to introduce the twins, Princess Edina and Crown Prince Errol of Amata. They are the eldest children of Amata’s new ruler,” the old man announced as two copper-haired royals stepped into the throne room. 

The Princess, Edina, curtsied slowly as the Prince, Errol, bowed deeply. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty,” Edina’s voice was sweet and soft, but held an air of confidence. 

“We are honoured to be in your court, this day, my Lord,” Errol’s was deeper, rich, and sent a shiver down the King’s spine. 

Arthur had yet to notice Merlin standing subserviently at his own side, jaw clenched and shoulders stiff. 

Or

The council is pushing Arthur to marry, once more. They’ve tried everything, even men once they discovered his majesty’s lack of preference! Once they realized he would never agree to a loveless marriage for political alliances, though... The council grew sneaky. 

That was how the twins, the Prince and Princess of Amata, a kingdom under new reign, wound up at Camelot. 

Ask Arthur, they’re there to sign a treaty and get to know one another. Ask any member of the council, they were there to vie for Arthur’s heart and hand in marriage. 

Merlin is less than pleased at this development. 

Cue Jealous!Merlin and clueless Arthur with two stunning suitors & a pining warlock. 

this would be a fun one

flustered arthur g a l o r e in this one. 

send me a title and ship and let see what the braincell will let me create you

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Based on the last request I sent you: what would happen when the self inducing fever spell got out of hand? How would reader take care of a feverish Loki? 😮❤️

Whump? You ask me to write whump? My moment has come!

Since the spell also stimulates fever dreams (that don't mix in well with trauma) Loki had basically stayed up all night, suffering in silence.

Usually, he needs to undo the spell, but due to lack of sleep and focus, banishing doesn't work.

You've long been up and Loki's still under the covers and trying to break the spell, to no avail.

When you return to the bed, sure that Loki's just oversleeping, and try to wake them up, they groan and more further in the covers.

"you got stuck?"

He mutters a yes, expecting a mock and how you were right to insist that the spell was a bad idea.

"alright, don't cover too much, you wanna emit heat elsewhere. Go take a cold shower, I'll make you some tea and soup,"

You know that Loki's not sick per say, and so treating them as if they're sick won't help, but you still try.

And also you get to cuddle without worrying about contracting something, since Loki gets extremely clingy.

He's trying to research on how to break the spell, but cannot focus while burning up.

You decide it's best to wait it out, since neither knows how to stop it

And since Loki is in dire need for cuddles and they get to warm you up

Loki gets super sleepy, and sleeps on your shoulder in several occasions.

And also gets more nightmares, and wakes up hyperventilating.

He realises that panic attacks and magical fevers make an awful mix. 0/10, would never recommend.

"I'm so sorry, this was the worst idea I ever had, I'm never using this again,"

That's their trademark phrase now

It lasts a little less than a week, which you spend watching tv, cuddling and mastering the art of making tea.

At lot of tea

Loki also starts feeling cold when feverish, he hates it

"i understand why you're dressing in layers and shit, that's a torture"

They say while covered in a blanket and still shivering.

And yes, you slither your cold hands only to have Loki yelp

But he's also feeling like on fire, so he is shirtless and covered with a blanket

Does it help with feeling hot and cold at the same time? No

Will they stop doing it? No

You don't judge, his last Braincell is on fire.

They also refuse to tell anyone else about the creation of their personal inferno, since it's too embarrassing.

Tony still finds out and never lets it die out.

Also, since his hair is getting stuck on his face all the time, he allows you to braid it.

It's hard to braid, because Loki cannot stop shivering, but you try.

Eventually, the spell dies out while you're cuddling, and you start feeling them going cold again.

"at least we got to cuddle a lot," he admits

"yes, it was nice"

"I should do it again"

"don't you dare"

Loki smirks at the reaction, and then takes their revenge for the cold hand torture.

And yes, he will do the spell again.

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves

[antiredemptionarc]

Here’s part 1 of some scenes for “episodes” of gilmoregirlsnatural based on @heathyr’s post. I chugged coffee and wrote this like a maniac so feel free to ignore it if it sucks. I am simply writing to entertain my one braincell. 

This first one is loosely based off the very first scene in Gilmore girls [up to the one minute mark] and this [up to the 40 sec mark] from the pilot episode. 

Dean watches Cas enter his diner carrying the world’s largest messenger bag and a gigantic bright yellow mug with a bee on it. He sheds his trench coat, depositing it and the bag in one swift motion onto the usual chair at his usual table by the big window. He’s at the counter before Dean can even blink.

“Hello, Dean. Coffee, please.”

“Okay, how many cups have you had this morning?”

Cas glares at him. 

“No cups.”

Dean throws the rag he was using over his shoulder and tilts his head, looking up and pursing his lips. 

 “Plus….?”

“Five cups,” Castiel sheepishly admits. “But yours is better.”

“You have a problem.”

“Yes, I do. There is no coffee in this final, sixth cup.”

Dean fights a smile.

“Final my ass.”

Cas looks at him pointedly and pushes the mug closer to him.

Dean shakes his head. “Junkie,” he mutters as he pours coffee into Cas’s mug. Castiel’s blue eyes widen as he watches the steam rise from the cup. And Dean’s grip on the pitcher tightens for no discernible reason at all.

“Thank you,” says Cas sweetly. “You’re an angel, Dean.”

Angel isn’t exactly the word Dean would use to describe himself. In fact, he knows who he might use it for, but his brain is actively not thinking about that, especially while pouring coffee into a crazed caffeine addict’s bee-themed mug.

Dean’s face impressively avoids showing this dangerous and derailing train of thought. Instead, he raises his eyebrows at Cas.

Thankfully, the phone rings, interrupting his thoughts about it and preventing him from overfilling Cas’s mega-mug. Dean turns to answer it, watching over his shoulder at Cas rushing back to his table with the prized coffee clutched to his chest like a lifeline. 

After the call, only a few more minutes go by before the bell on the shop door inevitably dings again. Jack enters Dean’s diner with the world’s largest backpack slung over his shoulders and a metric ton of books in his arms. He sits down at the usual table, in his usual chair, across from Castiel.

Jack shivers. “Burr.”

“You’re cold,” Dean hears Cas say.

“Freezing.”

“What do you need? Hot chocolate? Coffee?”

“Chapstick.”

“Here…” Castiel starts rifling through his bag. He smiles triumphantly as he pulls out a clear plastic zip-bag the size of which makes Dean question if the messenger bag is somehow bigger on the inside.

“I have honey, vanilla, almond or coconut.”

Jack frowns and leans over the table to look at the selection.

“Do you have anything sweeter or fruitier?”

“Maybe.”

Like a magician pulling rabbits from a hat, Castiel brings out a second, even more impressively sized baggie.

Jack quirks an eyebrow as he watches. “I can’t imagine you don’t.”

“Someone is a little crabby today.”

“I’m sorry,” says Jack. He lays his head down on top of his stack of books on the table and peers up at Castiel mournfully. “I lost my favorite Beyonce cd and I think I might be suffering from a lack of caffeine.”

“Ah, well….Actually, I have your missing Beyonce cd.”

“You stole it,” grumbles Jack.

Castiel produces it from one of the thousands of pockets on the front of his bag. “Here.” He passes it to Jack’s side of the table and gives his son’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I will make it up to you and get you some caffeine.”

Jack’s pouty frown instantly turns into a smile.

Cas grabs a second mug from the pocket of his trench coat (possibly also as bottomless as the messenger bag) and flies back to the front counter. He slides a mug with little yellow flowers on it in front of Dean. Then, he folds his hands and rests his elbows on the countertop, an expectant look shining out from his bright blue eyes.

Dean returns his stare with a smug smile. Cas rolls his eyes.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Jack.”

Jack perks up and smiles, raising a hand when he hears his name. “Hello!”

Cas rivals Deans look with a sassy tilt of his head toward their table. See.

Dean sighs and gives Jack a little wave back before he starts pouring another cup of coffee that will no doubt be Castiel’s partial seventh cup that day. Since Jack likes to share.

“Your heart’s gonna explode one day, you know.”

“Luckily, my heart is very resilient.”

Cas reaches for the mug too soon before he’s finished pouring and their hands brush for half a second too long. Dean somehow manages to be pissed about his own heart threatening to explode before his brain goes static. But before he can recover or say anything witty back, Cas is marching away back to his table.

Castiel sits the steaming mug in front of Jack who is just finishing applying nougat flavored lip balm that he managed to find in the chaos of Cas’s infinite collection of bags. They each take a sip from their mugs at the exact same time, smiling over the top of them at each other in the exact same way.

And, looking over at them from the bar, Dean can’t hide a little fond smile of his own.

----------

part 1 of ?. 

feel free to let me know in the tags or in the notes if you would read a full fic of this AU :)

[haruyzal]

It kills me how your mind can make you feel so

worthless. pairing: Kirishima Eijirou / Bakugou Katsuki summary: Kirishima tends to forget himself, and so he falls. As nightmares exist, Bakugou happens to witness his best friend’s delicate state of mind and tries to help. rating: teens up, so pg-13 i guess tags/warning: angst, (emotional) hurt/comfort, self-depricating / insecure kirishima, bakugou is trying his best, my boys just need a hug y’all wordcount: 1230, that delicious round number Can also be read at AO3: shorturl.at/tIJKX that’s also where i put my author’s notes

Kirishima tends to forget himself.

Sometimes, it came merely as a whimper, only lasting for a second before quickly being wiped away by his own boisterous laughter and promises of doing better. Become stronger.

Sometimes, it crept its way during the dark, during cold and bitter hours when the sun had set and no light could chart its way into his heart. So, it stopped trying.

It wasn’t the first time Kirishima realised. Far from it. The thoughts circulated in the back of his head ever since they met, just lingering by his side would burst his own fragile heart.

He loved Bakugou. Truly. Whether it was platonically or romantically, well, he’d figure it out one day. Or maybe not. Now, he was content just trying to survive. Their fingers brushing. The warmth that light his skin on fire despite the layers of clothing between his arm and Bakugou’s shoulders. The shivers sent through his spine whenever Bakugou whispered something in his ear, just for him to hear. Just for him.

That’s why it hurt. Deeply, he knew he loved him. Deeply, he knew he hurt himself. Bakugou was everything Kirishima wanted, everything he wanted to be and everything he wanted to have and it pierced through his very soul that all of that was, for lack of better words, unobtainable.

Bakugou stood up at the crack of dawn, wide awake and ready to face the world head on. A light jog, a healthy breakfast, taking notes in classes with perfect attendance, finishing homework early yet reading ahead, then getting more sleep than the average teen gets during their entire adolescence. Bakugou wanted to be the best. Cook, musician, hero, you name it and he’s already halfway to master it purely out of spite. But he was also Kirishima’s friend, best friend even, and Kirishima was his. He knew as much. It was daunting, really. The person he loved the most was also the one he’s most afraid of hurting, which in turn, made him hurt himself. Funny how that works.

Thoughts raced against each other, competed to be the loudest, the most compelling, the most dangerous. Thoughts screaming at him for being a burden, useless, dumb, slow, daft, stupid, naive whiny weak weak weak weakweakweakweakweakweakweakweak you’re a drag dragging him down slowing him down you’re nothing but a pile of

A knock on his door. Kirishima barely noticed had it not repeated itself twice, thrice, and now he just refused to reply, knowing all too well who was on the other side of the door. The knock was a telltale sign of an impatient but ever-trying Bakugou Katsuki. Impatient, but persistent.

Minutes felt like hours, stretching itself, trying to outdo infinity and finally: “I’m awake.”

Vividly.

The sound of a door creaking, god he needed to oil it soon; then footsteps, a whiny floorboard he’d need to look at; and an akward greeting, so low he’d almost missed it. The softest ‘hey’ Bakugou had ever said. It went unanswered as Kirishima kept his body still and rigid, head in his arms curled tightly around his legs, his quirk activated hours ago.

The sight nearly made Bakugou whimper. But he bit his lip and swallowed the sound, his resolve to help bigger than his own need for comfort. Maybe that’s why Bakugou crept onto his bed. He tried to figure out a way to approach Kirishima but honestly, his need to yell, no, scream his heart out at the sight of a downed friend, worse, best friend, just squashed the last braincell he’d saved for tomorrow, so he opted with something more familiar:

“Do you want me to hug you?”

Kirishima always asked the same question when he was sad and cursed the world with his silence, the world so used to Bakugou’s explosive nature. Kirishima, with his arms wide open, ready to hold them up for hours until Bakugou was ready to either shake his head or dive into his embrace, all thoughts drowned by the redhead’s warmth.

So Bakugou did just that. Hoped that his words didn’t fall on deaf hears, hoped that his gesture would be welcomed with red strands in his face and a sharp nose buried deep into his shoulder and strong arms closing in around his neck.

And Kirishima did just that, halfway remembering to deactivate his quirk. It was a relief, not just to hold and be held, but the mere acceptance of the other’s state, vulnerable in their own ways.

A sob escaped Kirishima’s lips. Bakugou combed his fingers through soft, red hair as he tried to shush the tears away. When Kirishima was ready, he backed out of the embrace. Just slightly, their noses almost touching.

“I’m sorry, I-“, hiccup, “was it a nightmare?”

And Bakugou couldn’t help it, laughter escaped his lips at the irony while tears threatened to form in his eyes. “You bastard! Don’t try to make it about me! You’re the one crying, so just... just shut up and let me take care of you for once, yeah?”

A little louder than he intended, but it did the trick. Kirishima visibly melted, sinking back into Bakugou’s embrace as the blond practiced how to breathe again, fuck.

“What happened, Ei?” The name like honey on the tip of his tongue. He could practically taste it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A sniff, a hiccup and arms tightening.

“I... I don’t know, I just... I was about to go to bed, then suddenly I just. Cried. I fucking cried and I don’t know where these thoughts come from, Kats. They’re awful, I really shouldn’t but I can’t- I can’t help it. Suddenly I just feel so... so...”

A deep breathe, then an exhale.

”It’s okay, Ei, I got you. I got you...”

“I feel so useless,” Kirishima breathed out, his heavy heart sinking even further into the abyss. He could feel Bakugou’s arms tense, slightly tightening and later relaxed again as a sigh escaped the blond’s lips.

“God, Ei-“

You’re pathetic.

“You’re strong, you hear me? You’re so fucking strong, you made friends with that one villain, as if you were some fucking- God I’m still not over that.”

No, wait-

“You are so strong, Ei. You always try to protect us, to protect me and, don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking grateful, but your dumbass always puts others before yourself and I can’t- fuck, Ei, I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what I’d do without you...

“Please, just... When you’re ready, talk to me...”

The silence nearly drowned his plea, and yet an ‘okay’ rolled off Kirishima’s tongue like butter. His heart tried to regulate itself.

“Can you maybe... I mean, It’s... it’s nice to hear your voice and... just...”

Bakugou merely nodded, ransacking his brain for any interesting information and let his words run like waterfall, slipping in poems as words of encouragement as Kirishima fought to stay awake. Yet Bakugou lulled him into sleep, his fingers gently massaging his best friend’s scalp.

“The corpse we carry has iron in its veins.

The same iron forged in burning stars now dead yet living on in all of us,

we are merely stardust floating through vast emptiness,

so we make of it as we want and hope for light and colours in the dark,

forgetting it’s at the very tip of our fingers.”

[iturbide]

OKAY I DREW THE DIPSHIT[S] YOU SHOULD TALK ABOUT THEM

how can I honestly resist those faces

Okay so.  As you’re probably aware by now, Pokemon is a pretty big thing for me, and has been for a long time (at the risk of dating myself horribly, my first game was Blue).  Pokemon AUs are some of my favorite things because the setting is so adaptable and the variety of actual pokemon is so vast that you can make custom teams for every character that perfectly embody their personality and style. 

A good long while back now I came across a prompt from FYCD about taking your characters and dropping them into the world of Pokemon, so of course I went “heck yeah” and did it with one of my original stories in progress, specifically using this cast of characters.  Kemal and Adia ended up as joint professors, a married couple doing pokemon research and helping new trainers get started; Dian ended up as the protagonist, with Ambrose as her rival, while Zhar and Leander became the friends she made along the way. 

It...kind of snowballed into an original region (I haven’t taken the step of doing original pokemon because designing a custom region with landmarks, gym leaders, and existing pokemon territories is already a nightmare and a half, I don’t have the juice to add custom monsters to it).  This region, called the Halcya region is home to an ancient myth:

Long ago, a wicked shadow stretched across the land, leaving naught but nightmares in its wake; those with evil in their hearts prayed for the shadow’s blessing, and when the darkness granted their wish they sowed ever more chaos with the shadows that did their bidding.  Yet when all hope seemed lost, great powers rose to fight against the darkness, pushing it back until finally the shadow was defeated and bound deep within the earth, never again to taint the light of day. 

Basically, way back in the ancient past, Darkrai came to Halcya and people there began to suffer from endless sleep terrible nightmares.  It’s said, however, that there were people who Darkrai blessed as his own, granting them the ability to call upon his dark powers; there were those who Darkrai blessed who immediately began to wreak havoc on the region, saying that it was “in Darkrai’s service,” and for a while it seemed like the region would end up destroyed...until other Legends appeared and began granting their own blessings to the people so they could endure and fight back.  With the help of these great pokemon, Darkrai’s army was quelled and the nightmare himself was locked in a prison beneath the earth under constant guard by Cresselia to prevent a repeat occurrence.  It’s also said that to this day, the great Legends who saved Halcya continue to grant their blessings to its children.

As with a lot of legends in Pokemon, turns out there’s a substantial nugget of truth in all that.

The story itself follows Dian (the cutie on the right in the picture) on her journey through this region, starting off in her hometown of Amite.  While she’s excited about this milestone, she ends up having to contend with another trainer on his way to starting his journey -- namely Ambrose, the high-and-mighty self-absorbed son of a wealthy couple, who believes he only deserves the best: he takes the pokemon that the professors been specifically chosen for Dian -- an Eevee, representative of her potential, but that he only sees as something rare and therefore valuable and desirable.  Though they try to stop him, he refuses to return the pokemon, and she ends up with another that they find fitting: a Bulbasaur, indicative of her potential for growth.

Ambrose, naturally, challenges her immediately to a battle -- and to everyone’s surprise, the “Bulbasaur” Dian received suddenly shivers into a Zorua when the Eevee hits it for the first time.  Dian manages to beat Ambrose (which he takes poorly before storming off), and she goes to inform her parents...who insist that she can’t keep the Zorua, and that going on a pokemon journey is a waste of time.  At that point, Dian goes to return the pokemon...only to have the professors encourage her to go if it’s what she wants, promising to cover for her and setting her up with some supplies to get her started.  At which point she heads off, capturing a Murkrow on the way before reaching the Elisean Town and meeting Zhar, who introduces her to the gym challenge...partly because, as it happens, he’s the first gym leader, specializing in fire types.

It’s a tough fight, but she wins with the help of her new Murkrow, at which point Zhar decides to go along with her, since he’s never been far from home in his memory -- something his father wholeheartedly encourages.  After that, they head for the next town, and the next gym, with it: an earth-type specialty gym, run by Leander.  Thanks to the Sneasel she caught along the way, Dian has a much easier time of it, and after getting so soundly thrashed by someone he expected so little from, Leander decides to head off with her, too. 

This is a recipe for disaster.  There are two braincells between the three of them, and Dian usually has both. 

Dian is very smart and has a talent for strategizing her way through battles, even those where she should be at a disadvantage (she has a handful of moves specifically to deal with problem pokemon: the Sludge Bomb on her Houndoom is a particularly potent counter to any fairy types); her downfall tends to be in her self-confidence (or lack thereof), and she can be easily demoralized by cruel words or dismissal out of turn.  Zhar, meanwhile, is clever when he wants to be, and with his combination of speed and quick reflexes pinning him down in battle a challenge; but he can also be very distractible, leading Leander to call him a bird brain more often than not (though he still hasn’t been forgiven for that one time he stole Leander’s wallet at lunch so Dian could go take a gym challenge without him knowing).  Leander’s primary talents are all physical: he’s very strong, and his understanding of Pokemon and how to use their talents to the fullest in battle makes him more than worthy of his gym appointment; but with that said, he’s also a bit bull-headed and quick-tempered, rushing to judgment and to action both and ending up in trouble for it. 

Basically I love them even if they are the dumbest of dumbasses.

[dalgikiss]

Catch-22 // h. iwaizumi

index

part 10

It’s Iwaizumi’s turn to avoid you now, tips of his ears turning pink when your name is mentioned and flashbacks of his word vomit replaying in his mind. 

You pretend not to notice when he comes in late and how his eyes avoid looking in your direction. It totally doesn’t hurt

It definitely does

Oikawa notices the unspoken tension between you two whenever he decides to come into your classroom, observant brown eyes narrowing in on how Iwaizumi refused to turn towards you, answering his questions rougher than usual and how you’d stare at everything but Iwaizumi. 

“What’s this all about?” He asks you one day, early in the morning before school has started. He had snuck out of his house much earlier than usual, claiming he had a morning meeting with his teacher before class started to get out of walking with Iwaizumi. 

“What’s what all about?” you ask sleepily, eyes struggling to stay open. He lets you lean your head against his shoulder, sitting underneath the giant Weeping Willow in the school courtyard. Your stray strands of hair flutter in the breeze, tickling his nose. 

“You and Iwa-chan don’t even glance at each other anymore. How am I supposed to live when my best friends aren’t talking to each other?” 

You pretend you haven’t heard him, twisting your head so you could face his neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne and let the warmth from his neck flush through your body when you rested your forehead against him. 

“Is my crush on Iwaizumi obvious?” You ask instead and he looks down at you in surprise, eyes studying your relaxed expression. An involuntary shiver runs up his spine when your eyelashes sweep against his neck and tickle him in the process. 

He thinks back to your blushing face and stuttering words when iwaizumi looked at you just a little too long, your slender fingers always reaching for him in crowded areas so they wouldn’t get separated and soft eyes that saw him with something that spoke of a little more than friendship. 

Obvious? Maybe, at least to the trained eye. 

He weighed his options, wondering what kind of answer you were looking for before deciding to deflect your question with another one. “Why do you ask?”

A breath of air fans over his neck and he holds in his laughter when your lips move against him, tickling his neck in the process. “Ryuoko told Iwaizumi that i liked him”

It was as though a lightbulb went off in his head, the pieces all clicking together. Oikawa nods in understanding as he makes sense of the strange behavior the both of you were exhibiting. 

“I didn’t confirm or anything” You continue, “I was just wondering if it was obvious” 

“If it was, Iwaizumi would have gotten the hint by now” Oikawa reassures you but it does nothing to calm you down. You screw your eyes shut, Oikawa feeling the folds of your skin against his neck. 

“What if he totally did know and was just trying to find a way to reject me nicely and I’m actually the oblivious one”

Oikawa thinks back to the late summer afternoons where he watched his longtime friend go numb in position because he was too scared to move and awaken you in the middle of your nap, how Iwaizumi’s tanned skin would turn red under your gaze and he’d blame it on the sweltering summer heat and his calloused hands after years of playing volleyball wrapping around yours in crowded rooms. 

“Do you like her?” Oikawa had asked one summer day, lying on the grass next to Iwaizumi. They both stared ahead at the sky, the setting sun casting brilliant shades of purple and gold along the horizon. 

Iwaizumi watched the plane fly past, the roar of the engine bringing a rush of wind that rustled the tree leaves and made the birds chirp in annoyance. “Don’t ask me stupid questions” He responds gruffly. 

You had long gone home, accompanied by Hanamaki and Matsukawa with the promise of stopping at the convenience store by the park to buy popsicles. Iwaizumi had stayed behind with Oikawa, promising Oikawa’s mother he’d take him home once the sun was no longer in the sky. 

Oikawa let Iwaizumi brood over his answer, raising his fingers to try and trace the shapes of the clouds in the sky as he waited. 

“It doesn’t really matter if I do or don’t like her” Iwaizumi finally admitted and Oikawa dropped his hand back down to his side, rolling over to look at iwaizumi’s side profile and the even rise and fall of his chest with every breath.  

“If she doesn’t like me back, is there a point?” 

Oikawa fell back onto his back, smiling softly. “So you do like her then?”

There’s a small puff of air that’s released from Iwaizumi’s mouth when he heard the question and he finally sat up, stretching his arms up past his head. “Stop asking me questions you already know the answer to” 

Iwaizumi leaned over to poke at Oikawa’s side, gesturing with a nod of his head. “It’s time to go home before your mom gets upset”

Oikawa let out a whine at that, wanting to stay outside longer but got up anyways, picking his volleyball up off the sandy floor. The park behind them becomes further and further with every step they take until it’s swallowed into the darkness. 

He blinks when you pull his hand into yours, interlacing fingers with him, reminding him he’s here in the present. Your thumb smoothes over his, your finger cold against his heated skin. 

“Class is starting soon” You murmur, the courtyard growing louder as students begin to file in. The giant clock that hangs in front of the entrance reminds him they had to go inside soon, class starting in 15 minutes but your soft breathing and relaxed hand held loosely in his said to wait a little more.

Just a little longer, he decides, just a little longer

x.

“Aren’t you tired of ignoring [surname]-chan?” Oikawa asks, sliding into your seat at lunch after you had been whisked away by Matsukawa. 

Iwaizumi stares hard at Oikawa, envisioning burning holes into his forehead. “You’re annoying” 

“I think you need to come up with new insults, they’re getting a bit old. Do you have enough brain cells for that?” 

Iwaizumi reaches forward, sharply tugging on a tuft of Oikawa’s hair and he lets out a yelp of pain. He doesn’t hold the same hostility he used to, mind occupied. Ryuoko passes by the windows, brown eyes glancing once into the classroom before turning back in front of her. Iwaizumi follows her figure, unconsciously making a face when he remembers their last conversation. 

Me or your friends  

Oikawa follows his gaze, cocking his head to the side at the sight of her. “By the way, isn’t she usually here during breaks?”

Iwaizumi returns his gaze back to his desk. “We got into a fight”

“Oh I see, about what?”

Iwaizumi turned to look at him, wondering if now was the right time to bring it up. Oikawa waits patiently, doodling small flowers in the corner of random pages of your notebook. 

“Her or my friends”

Oikawa keeps his eyes on your desk, pencil stilling in the middle of drawing a tulip before resuming, finishing the petals and beginning to draw the stem. 

“And?”

Oikawa’s tone is still as lighthearted as ever, teasing Iwaizumi but Iwaizumi’s already seen it- the fleeting look on his face, chocolate brown eyes darkening and eyebrows furrowing and the hair on the back of Iwaizumi’s neck stand to attention. 

Dangerous

It’s only there for a fraction of a second, gone so fast that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it but Iwaizumi is not ‘anyone else’. He waits for a few moments, quietly deciding between whether he should bring it up or say nothing at all and goes for the latter. 

He reaches over to tug on Oikawa’s hair again, but it’s not the same. It’s reassuring, the sharp tug on his curly hair reminding Oikawa he wasn’t going anywhere. “Of course I’m not leaving you guys, dumbass”

Oikawa lets out a sharp yelp, hands coming up to try and free himself. “Stop it! My hair- I spent all morning on it, let go!”

It’s only the slightest change in his tone, practically not even there but Iwaizumi knows his job is done and everything is okay. He lets go of his hair, but not before taking his hand and running it through Oikawa’s styled hair as revenge. 

“I’m sure you’ll make the right decision, iwa-chan” Oikawa says as he uselessly tries to fix his hair, “After all, even though you’re a brute with only two braincells-”

“I dare you to finish your sentence” Iwaizumi threatens and Oikawa shrinks back into his seat with a small laugh

“Relax Iwa-chan! Even with your lack of brain cells, I’m sure you’ll be able to make the right decision!- ow!”

The sting on Iwaizumi’s hand reminds him he needs to buy hand lotion and he admires his work, a nice red welt forming at the very center of Oikawa’s head. Oikawa grumbles something about Iwaizumi being too strong for your own good and your hands are rougher than sandpaper before running away, just in time to avoid another smack in the head. 

Make the right choice, Iwa-chan! 

Oikawa doesn’t say it out loud but Iwaizumi knows the hidden meaning beyond what’s not said and he chews on his left cheek as he watches Oikawa make faces at him through the safety of the classroom window. 

What’s the right choice?

He watches Ryuoko walk past his classroom, stopping only briefly to greet Oikawa who waves her away with a half hearted smile that makes his fangirls swoon and Iwaizumi already knows Oikawa has begun to hold a grudge against her. 

The right choice is your friends

[artificialqueens]

Ms. California, Chapter Six (Crygi) - Mik

A/N: I am SO sorry for taking so long to update! I had the worst case of writer’s block ever, and I had midterms this week. Thanks for being patient. I hope this makes up for my lack of posting!

Summary: Crystal moves to Los Angeles from Missouri and meets Gigi Goode, captain of the varsity cheer squad. Queue the 1990s lesbian high school AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

It’s been two weeks since Gigi announced to the cheer squad that Crystal was, in fact, her friend. And those two weeks had been delightful.

Every day, Gigi made a point to either sit with Jackie, Crystal, and Jan at lunch, or pull Crystal over to the squad’s lunch table. Crystal found herself beginning to enjoy getting to know the group: most of them were, to her surprise, funny, genuine, and generally good-natured. She especially found herself clicking with Nicky and Jaida. Although they were standoffish at first, Crystal quickly bonded with Nicky over her interest in fashion (although many would consider Crystal’s taste questionable at the very best, Nicky seemed to think it was “perfectly unique and lovely”) and Jaida over being the “new kid”, as she had moved from Wisconsin just a few years prior.

When Gigi first began sitting with Crystal, Jackie, and Jan, Jackie seemed to be pensive. She kept quiet and let the other three girls do all of the talking. However, this changed as soon as Gigi talked about what it was like sneaking into gay clubs in West Hollywood. Jackie lit up, asking questions about it for almost the entire lunch period. Crystal knew Jackie wanted nothing more than to have an out-and-proud gay community surrounding her - she was the only one of the four who everyone knew was gay. Gigi promised that she would accompany Jackie, and the other two girls, on one of the “18+” nights that the clubs held. From then on, Jackie seemed to gradually warm towards the blue-eyed cheerleader.

Gigi would drive Crystal home most days, often electing to come inside to do homework and cook dinner. The two would spend the first hour unable to focus, finding themselves tangled up in Crystal’s bed, lips attached and make-up smudged. Eventually, they’d compose themselves and start homework until Crystal’s mom arrived home. She’d hug both girls, and the three would automatically make their way into the kitchen. Gigi had made the comment that she felt, in many ways, that she was already closer to Crystal’s mom than her own. Crystal felt sad for her - Gigi never talked about her family and assumed that the situation was less-than-ideal - but her heart soared when she saw the blonde and her mom in fits of laughter together. Gigi would eat dinner with her family most nights, and Crystal would kiss her goodbye through the window of her magenta convertible before she drove home. They had fallen into a comfortable routine and Crystal could not have been happier.

~

Crystal is sitting with Jackie at their secluded lunch table, sketching the outline of a bird for an art project while Jackie flips through her government textbook. It’s a strangely gray day in Los Angeles and Crystal almost wonders if it will rain: the sun is completely hidden behind fog and dark clouds and it’s chilly enough that Crystal wishes she’d brought a hoodie with her to school.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she hears Gigi’s familiar laugh from a distance. It’s light and high-pitched and it makes Crystal light up. She turns around to see Gigi making her way over with Jan; they’re both wearing their cheer uniforms and Crystal doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone look as stunning as Gigi does.

“Hey girls!” Gigi says as she sits down next to Crystal.

“Hey!” Crystal grins. “You look uh, really pretty in your uniform,” she says in a hushed tone. It’s the first time she’s seen Gigi in it.

Gigi blushes. “Thank you.”

“So, we were talking about what we could do tonight after the game!” Jan interrupts, nudging Jackie softly to get the girl to look up from her textbook.

“What’s that?” Jackie asks, shutting the book.

“What if we all had a big sleepover?!” Jan suggests excitedly.  

“Where?” Crystal asks.

“Jan’s house, her mom is really cool,” Gigi explains.

“Yeah, she knows about Jackie and I and is like, super happy for us,” elaborates the other blonde.

“She’s just happy that you’re finally dating someone who hasn’t had all of their braincells tackled out of them,” Jackie quips with a smirk.

“Ouch. But you’re not wrong,” Jan laughs, “I guess football guys aren’t always the brightest tools in the shed.”

“So, what do you think?!” Gigi interjects.

“I’m up for it!” Crystal agrees quickly, excited to spend more time with both of her new friends and her… whatever Gigi is to her.

“Jackie?”

“Obviously!” Jackie smiles.

“Yay!” Jan and Gigi simultaneously exclaim.

“Will you gals come to the football game, then?” Jan asks.

“I guess,” Jackie decides hesitantly.

“I’ve never been to a football game,” Crystal says. “I’ll give it a try, though. Why not?”

“You and I can just hang out at the top of the bleachers and read, Crystal,” Jackie tells the curly-haired girl.

“For sure.“

“Oh, come on, where’s your school spirit?! You gotta cheer the team on!” Jan jokes with her girlfriend and Jackie rolls her eyes playfully.

The wind begins softly blowing, making Crystal shiver again. She doesn’t understand California weather - it’s usually hot enough that she feels like she needs an ice bath, but right now, a warm sweater and some hot chocolate sounds delightful.

“Crys, are you cold?” Gigi asks.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Crystal assures the blonde, trying not to shiver as another gust of wind blows through.

“You look like you’re cold, I’m giving you my jacket,” Gigi tells her decidedly.

“Gi, no, you totally don’t have to -”

“Here,” Gigi says, pulling off the purple letterman’s jacket.

Gigi drapes the heavy jacket around Crystal’s shoulders. The jacket is huge on her, probably because Gigi is so much taller than she is, and it envelopes her in warmth. Crystal can’t help but notice that it smells like vanilla - exactly like Gigi.

“Thanks,” Crystal blushes as Gigi leans in closer to her.

“You look really good in my jacket and I really want to kiss you right now,” the blue-eyed girl murmurs matter-of-factly.

Crystal’s face heats up more, and although she’s (kind of) gotten used to hearing compliments from Gigi, her brain still seems to short-circuit whenever Gigi says something sweet.

“Get a room!” Jackie laughs, noticing the romantic tension between the two.

“Maybe we will,” Gigi responds, raising an eyebrow. “Crystal, I think I left something in my car that I need some help with.”

“Oh, yeah, the um… the thing!” Crystal stutters out.

Gigi stands, motioning for Crystal to follow her.

“I’ll see you girls later tonight! And Jan, make sure to be on time for warm-ups today!” Gigi calls out, waving back at Jackie and Jan.

“How much longer do we even have at lunch?” Crystal asks once they’re in the parking lot.

“I don’t know, probably fifteen minutes,” Gigi guesses.

They walk briskly to Gigi’s car, and the second the doors shut behind them, Gigi captures Crystal’s lips in a heated kiss.

Crystal is sure that she’ll never get tired of the way that Gigi’s plump lips move softly against her own or the way that Gigi’s hands feel gripping her hips or the way that Gigi always bites down softly on Crystal’s bottom lip after she lightly drags her tongue across it. It’s all nothing short of magic.

Their kissing becomes increasingly passionate, and before Crystal knows it, Gigi tentatively moves her hands below the older girl’s shirt. Crystal lets out a quiet moan as Gigi’s hands make their way up her hips, her fingertips ghosting over Crystal’s ribcage.

Crystal knows this is all very “high school”; her best friends at home had countless stories about making out - or more - with boys in their cars. Crystal never thought she’d be one of them, but here she was, teenage hormones raging.

Crystal’s breath hitches when Gigi’s fingers brush over the side of her chest. Gigi breaks the kiss, still not moving more than a few centimeters away from Crystal.

“Is… that okay?” she whispers.

Crystal nods, reconnecting their lips.

Gigi hesitantly places one of her hands over Crystal’s breast and gently presses her hand against it, eliciting a slight gasp from the shorter girl. The blonde caresses her chest, and Crystal can feel her heart racing. She can’t think about anything but Gigi: Gigi’s hand moving languidly against the fabric of her bra, the feeling of Gigi’s heartbeat, the taste of Gigi’s breath in her mouth…

They’re interrupted when the lunch bell rings out, loudly enough that the two can hear it even from the confines of Gigi’s car.  

“Fuck,” Gigi stammers.

“We should uh, get going,” Crystal attempts to slow her breathing.

“Definitely,” Gigi agrees breathlessly.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“We should… try that again, not in your car,” Crystal says, her cheeks pink. She almost wants to laugh at how completely and utterly cliché this situation is: if they weren’t both girls, would this not be equivalent to the quintessential high school experience of getting felt up in some boy’s car?

“I’d like that,” Gigi says, regaining her composure. “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” Crystal says, adjusting her shirt.

They walk into the gates of the school, parting ways at the entrance.

Crystal realizes she’s still wearing Gigi’s letterman’s jacket and smiles.

~

“You did what?!” Jackie yells, wide-eyed.

Crystal and Jackie are sitting in Crystal’s bedroom, getting ready to go to the football game. Crystal could care less about supporting her school’s team, or “school spirit” as Jan referred to it, but she painted purple and white streaks on her cheeks anyways. If anything, she thinks Gigi will find it cute.

“Yeah,” Crystal replies to Jackie sheepishly.

“Weren’t you scared of someone seeing?! Not even a student, but like, a teacher!”

“Not really, my mind was… elsewhere,” Crystal replies honestly.

“You’re braver than I am, I’ll give you that,” Jackie mimics Crystal’s idea, dragging purple and white face paint across her own cheeks. “I’m scared to even kiss Jan on the cheek in the car. Or anywhere on campus.”

“Yeah, it might not have been the most responsible idea, in retrospect,” Crystal admits.

“Just be careful, I’d hate for people to find out about you guys,” Jackie warns.

“I don’t plan on people finding out,” Crystal assures her. “On that topic, what’s the deal with Jan’s mom?”

“What do you mean?”

“She just… knows about you guys? And lets you have sleepovers?” Crystal elaborates.

“Yeah,” Jackie smiles. “I remember the day her mom found out. We were laying in her backyard, drinking smoothies, and her mom was supposed to be at the gym. She got home early, I guess, and saw Jan lean in and kiss me.”

“What did she do?”

“She knocked on the window and Jan completely freaked out. She ran inside, and her mom apparently just asked if we were dating, and Jan tried to say it was nothing and completely innocent. Her mom didn’t buy it, and walked outside and asked me . I can’t lie, and I thought she was angry, so I said yes and offered to leave.”

“Was she mad?”

“Oh god no. She gave Jan a hug, and gave me a hug, and said she was happy that if Jan was going to be dating in high school, it was someone like me. It was the first time I’d ever heard that,” Jackie’s eyes light up.

“That’s insane, and really sweet,” Crystal muses. “My parents are both really great, but I doubt they’d respond like that.”

“Mine definitely wouldn’t. I’d be disowned in a second.”

“I’m sorry, Jackie,” Crystal sympathizes.

“Don’t be. Jan’s mom does a good enough job at making me feel like I’m a part of their family.”

The two spend the rest of the time getting ready in relative silence. Six o’clock rolls around, and the pair make their way downstairs to ask if Crystal’s mom can drop them off. Jackie doesn’t want to deal with parking at school during a football game.

“Hey mom! We’re ready to go,” Crystal tells her.

Her mom looks up at her from the book she’s reading. “Oh honey, you two look adorable !”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiles.

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Crystal’s mom asks.

“No, I think we’re staying over at Jan’s - Gigi will drive.”

“Sounds good!” Crystal’s mom grabs her keys. “Let’s get going, then!”

The car ride is short and sweet; it’s filled with small-talk and her mom’s bad taste in music.

“Have fun and be safe, girls!” Crystal’s mom calls out as the two exit the car.

Crystal waves, telling her mom that she loves her, and sets off towards the bleachers with Jackie.

“So, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t uh, really want to sit in the back the whole time,” Crystal laughs.

“Oh?”

“I mean, I wanna like, cheer on Gigi or whatever,” she says. Crystal is wearing the blonde’s letterman’s jacket, and she feels like the girlfriend of the high school quarterback.

Except she isn’t Gigi’s girlfriend and Gigi is the head cheerleader.

“That’s… cute. Okay, well, fine by me,” Jackie shrugs.

The two sit several rows back from the front, far enough away from the over-zealous fans but close enough that they can still see the field, waiting for the game to start.

“Do you come to these much?” Crystal asks.

“Not as much as Jan would like, I’m sure,” Jackie shares. “I guess now that I have you to come with, I’ll come more.”

“It’s like a reverse double-date, or something,” Crystal laughs. “I never thought I’d be sitting at a football game for a girl .”

“I never thought I’d actually make a friend at this school,” Jackie says seriously, attempting to cover the serious nature of her statement with a laugh.

“Come on, you have other friends, right?”

Jackie shakes her head. “I came out and everyone dropped like flies. That and being the weird Persian kid kind of kills my ability to have a social life.”

“Geeze, I’m sorry, Jackie.”

“Hey, I’ve got you and Jan, and oddly enough, Gigi is back in my life, so I can’t complain, can I?”

The game starts, and all of the football players make their way onto the field. The cheerleaders run out shortly after, and Crystal cranes her neck to see her favorite blonde. She stands front and center, leading both the audience and the squad in chants. Gigi is bubbly and upbeat and in her element; she dances and kicks and does the splits and Crystal is nothing short of amazed by her. Next to her, Jackie smiles at Jan and waves to her several times when the squad has a break. Jan beams up at her, waving back each time.

Crystal couldn’t say who won the game, or how many points were scored; she knows next to nothing about sports and was far more entertained by watching Gigi down on the field than the game itself. When the game is over, she and Jackie make their way down to the field to wait for their respective blondes.

Crystal sees Gigi emerge from the field, a smile painted across her face.

“Gi, you were awesome!” Crystal grins, hugging her.

“I’m glad you had fun!” Gigi says enthusiastically.

“Sorry that I sort of stole your jacket,” Crystal apologizes. “You probably wanted it during the game.”

“It looks much cuter on you,” Gigi winks. “Plus, I kind of like seeing you in my jacket.”

“Gross!” Jan jokes, elbowing Gigi. “Are you lovebirds ready to go?”

“I’m ready,” Crystal nods, and Gigi agrees.

“Great! Mom said she’d order pizza for us all!”

The four head to Gigi’s car; it’s less than a five minute drive to Jan’s house from the school.

Jan’s house is surprisingly large; Crystal isn’t used to the gigantic houses that seem to line the streets in Los Angeles. Jan unlocks the door, yelling to tell her mom that she’s home.

Jan’s mom emerges from the kitchen, approaching the door.

“Hi, sweetie, how was the game?” she hugs Jan.

“It was good, we won!” Jan tells her.

“Hello, Jackie!” Jan’s mom moves to hug her daughter’s girlfriend. “You look adorable with your face painted like that!”

“Thank you! It was Crystal’s idea.”

Jan’s mom turns to look at Crystal. “You must be Crystal, the girls have told me so much about you! It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too!” Crystal reaches out to shake her hand, and much like her own mother, Jan’s mom pulls her into a hug.

“We’re big on hugs here, handshakes are for strangers!”

Crystal laughs; she thinks her mom would get along swimmingly with Jan’s.

“And Gigi, you don’t get to avoid my hugs, either!” Gigi laughs as she’s wrapped in a hug. “I’m so glad to see that you aren’t third-wheeling with these two anymore!”

“Hey, she never third-wheels!” Jan laughs, faux-scowling at her mom.

“Well, I’m just happy you have a girlfriend, it’ll give you all some super fun double-dates, I’m sure! You make a cute couple!”

“Oh, we’re not gi-” Crystal begins to correct her before Gigi talks.

“Thank you, hopefully Crystal can get Jackie out to more games!” Gigi jokes.

“Let’s hope! Anyways, what kind of pizza do you girls want?”

~

The four sit on Jan’s living room floor, eating pizza on a mountain of sleeping bags and pillows as It plays in the background. Jackie is cowering into Jan, clearly terrified of the movie that her girlfriend insisted that they watch.

Crystal has seen it before - it’s one of her favorites - and Gigi seems almost as freaked out as Jackie is. The blonde has trapped Crystal’s hand in a death grip and Crystal swears her fingers are losing circulation. She can’t bring herself to care; the sensation of Gigi’s hand in her own is inarguably one of her favorite feelings.

“Why did we have to watch this movie?” Jackie squeaks out. “It’s so… violent.”

“It’s a masterpiece, babe!” Jan debates.

“It’s gory.”

“It’s interesting!”

“Whatever you say, darling,” Jackie says, continuing to hide behind Jan.

Crystal has to stifle a laugh - their exchange is adorably hilarious, and she thinks that they’re perfect for each other. She looks down at Gigi, who has buried her head in Crystal’s arm, and squeezes the blonde’s hand.

Her mind wanders as the movie plays on. Gigi didn’t tell Jan’s mom that they weren’t girlfriends and wonders if Gigi is interested in being exclusive. Crystal hasn’t thought about it much until this point - she’s been enjoying living in the moment with Gigi - but now the thought won’t leave her mind.

She can see herself in a relationship with Gigi easily. They’ll go on dates and fall asleep next to each other and surprise each other with flowers and Crystal will show up at all of Gigi’s cheer events with enthusiasm. She wants to wear the letterman’s jacket every day, and she never wants to go a day without feeling Gigi’s fingers intertwined with her own.

Crystal’s thoughts trail on until the end of the movie. Jackie has fallen asleep in Jan’s lap and Jan is lazily stroking her curly, dark hair as she, too, begins to drift off. Gigi is wide awake, still clutching Crystal’s hand.

“Do you wanna go sit on the porch?” Gigi asks Crystal quietly.

Crystal nods, and the two stand. Gigi has clearly been over to Jan’s house enough that she knows exactly where to go, because she leads Crystal to a sliding glass door. They sit down on the wooden porch in Jan’s backyard, and Crystal lets out a contented sigh as Gigi plants a kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks for coming tonight. It really, really means a lot to me, Crys.”

“Hey, of course. I like watching you, you look so happy when you’re cheering.”

“Not as happy as I am when I’m with you,” Gigi hums.

“That was cheesy,” Crystal jokes, wrapping her arm around the blonde.

“Look what you’ve done to me, Crystal Elizabeth. You’ve turned me into a complete dork! I’m almost as bad as Jan!” Gigi jokes.

Crystal can feel butterflies fluttering around in her stomach when Gigi uses her middle name - it feels like a term of endearment.  

“Who said dorky was a bad thing? I happen to think your dorky comments are adorable - or should I say, adorkable!” Crystal laughs.

“Okay, now that was bad,” Gigi snorts.

“You love it.”

“I know.”

The two sit in silence, wrapped up in each other’s arms, enjoying the cool night air.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” Gigi breaks the silence.

“What’s up?” Crystal asks.

“I hate to be that girl that asks this question, but like… what is this?”

Crystal doesn’t know how to answer - she doesn’t know what will be too much for Gigi and doesn’t want to scare the girl off. She doesn’t want to look inexperienced and over-eager.

“I, uh, I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it,” Crystal lies.

“Oh.”

“Not that I don’t want to think about it!” Crystal quickly follows up. “What do you think this is?”

“Hey, not fair! I asked you first!” Gigi giggles.

“I mean, I really like you. Enough that I went to my first high school football game in four years for you.”

“I really like you too, Crystal.”

“So…” Crystal trails off, avoiding the question she knows she needs to ask.

“You’re going to make me be the one to say it, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Crystal feigns innocence.

“Crystal, I want you to be my girlfriend,” Gigi declares.

Crystal presses a light kiss on Gigi’s lips before replying.

“Gi, I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend.”

Gigi leans her head on Crystal’s shoulder and throws her arms around the older girl’s waist. Crystal runs her fingers through her blonde hair, pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as the two sit in a comfortable quietness.

Crystal can’t think of anything better than this.

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“illusion”

Chapter 11

Link to the Ao3 work

WARNING: Very Spicy chapter 0.0

Another warning: there is a *brief* mention of something traumatic that happened to MC in the past. It's pretty clear what happened even though I didn't state it explicitly.

"Hey! Oh- you going somewhere?"

After sitting in my bed for ten minutes, I finally muster the courage to get up and get dressed. I keep conjuring up reasons against visiting Julius right now, piling up like a huge mountain in my mind; but one BIG reason is outweighing them all. I'm going to get in so much trouble... can I really just walk in there after I embarrassed him earlier?! But, he's so yummy- YUMMY?!?! Shut up! Shut! Up!

Despite the argument between the angel and devil in my mind, I pull on my pajamas and a bathrobe, then turn towards the door. 

I don't care if I get in trouble! I'm going to take this opportunity even if it kills me. I've lived too many miserable years, so it's time that I do what I want to do... 

As soon as I push to open it, the door swings my way to reveal Alice coming back from the bathroom, and she's immediately suspicious. One look at my face after her question, and she understands, her mouth breaking into a shit-eating grin.

"You're gonna go see him again, aren't you?"

All hope of coherent response is dashed as I struggle to form words. "W-What if I am?" I finally reply, crossing my arms and looking away.

Alice giggles as she steps inside, closing the door behind her. "Good for you!!! But you have some explaining to do~" She pokes me teasingly in the side, earning an undignified whine from my lips. She knows all of my most ticklish spots. "I did NOT expect to walk in to see you in his bed last night. Also, did you see his bed head? That was so cute~"

"Yes, of course I saw his bedhead." I give up on leaving for the time being and sink back onto my bed. If I get stuck here for much longer, I'm going to lose my initiative. "I slept with him, after all."

"AHHHH!" Alice squeals and suddenly gets right up in my face. "Tell me! What happened!? How on earth did you get him!? Julius is, like, the crown jewel of men! I knew you had it in you but this is huge!!! How was it? What did his dick look like?! Is he better than Lawrence??!"

"Ah! Slow down! I-I can't tell you any specifics-" I laugh nervously as her questioning finally ceases. God, I wish I didn't have to lie about this... Maybe I should just tell her the truth? After all, all those attacks were just in my head, right? But for some reason, I can't bring myself to give up on the guise... just in case... "It was... er- good?" To be honest, I don't know what "good sex" entails so I can't get very specific here. "But... I mean, it's still sort of... happening..." I can't help but smile, my heart doing a backflip in my chest. Maybe tonight... it'll happen for real. And I won't have to lie anymore. "I went to thank him for taking care of me the other night, and he invited me to sit with him for a while... and..."

"You didn't sit with him for very long, did you?" Alice gives me a cheeky smirk, rubbing her chin as she mulls it over. "You're really something... I can't believe it. Elia is going to be so jealous once this goes public-"

"Ah, public? You know I can't make anything public right now..." The reality of the situation starts to fade into my happy, horny haze, Lawrence's scowling face appearing in my mind. "If anyone hears about this-"

"I know, I know." Alice takes my hand and offers me a sweet smile. "I need to be more careful about keeping my mouth shut... Elia is onto you for sure. I promise I'll keep your secret."

I let out a little sigh of relief. "Thank you, Alice-"

"As long as you tell me all the details!" Alice giggles and slaps me on the back a little harder than she had to. "Now! Go get your man!"

"Alright, alright!" I grin back and get back on my feet, smoothing out my robe. "I'll see you... later."

"Hehe, you better have a good time!"

With one last wink, Alice opens the door and shoves me out into the hallway, leaving me to walk alone to the officer's hall.

Oh god... 

There's no avoiding it now; my feet are carrying me right up to Julius. Once I arrive at his room... 

What's even my plan? Jump him immediately? Or try and ease into it? I guess I can start by apologizing for today... maybe I can offer to make it up to him? Ugh, that's too corny! I don't want him to think I'm promiscuous or anything...

Suddenly, I blink, and I'm already there. Julius's door stands ominously in front of me, a light under the door revealing activity in the room inside.

Here I am... let's do this... I can do this!

Sucking in a breath, I reach up and knock on the door.

Three agonizing seconds later, it opens, and my first reaction is to instantly die. "Oh, hi! I was wondering when you were going to come up."

Julius stands there, smiling down at me as if the event 15 minutes ago never happened, wearing a bathrobe that he's clearly not wearing anything under. It takes every braincell in my body to tear my eyes away from the bit of chest peeking out of the fabric (he's got a little bit of blonde hair there... it's hot) and back up to his eyes in a timely fashion. A moment later, his words hit me. O-Oh? You expected me?" Oh god. His mouth twitches, almost into a more smug smile, but it only lasts a moment. Was I that obvious? 

"Yeah! You said you didn't trust Alice, right? I didn't think you were going to stay in your room, so..."

... oh.

"Oh!" So, I wasn't obvious? Or maybe I was, and he's just teasing me now. Julius chuckles at my blank expression before stepping aside and motioning for me to come into his room. "Thank you..."

"My pleasure." Pleasure. His words cause a pathetic little shiver to run down my arms. I awkwardly walk over to the couch and sit down, my legs crossed at the ankles. Come on, stay calm! Remember the adrenaline from earlier...

I squeeze my eyes shut and conjure up the heavenly image I was blessed with earlier. Julius, soaking wet, in that little towel, towering above me-

"Are you alright?"

Oops! My eyes pop back open and Julius is standing right in front of me, hands on his hips. I stifle a little scream and quickly nod. Shit! Too much! "Ah- yes, I'm fine, I'm fine, aha-" I rub my face nervously, avoiding his eyes and every other part of his body. He doesn't say anything for a moment, but the silence is so heavy it nearly starts to suffocate me.

This tension...

It's unlike anything I've ever felt with Lawrence. Sex was a chore for me, something I had to do for him because it was my duty. But now... I'm the one who wants it. And I want it more than anything else...

Does he... want it too?

This all happened so fast, over just a couple days. Just last night, I told him my secret, and he accepted me wholeheartedly, bringing us closer together than ever before. Can just one day of this closeness escalate so quickly?

It feels so right... I'll be screwed if anyone finds out, especially Lawrence, but every inch of the universe is telling me to do this.

"Would you like a drink?"

"...yeah. Please."

We sit there together on the couch in silence, and I steal little glances at him every time I sip the glass of wine he graciously gave me. Once, I catch him looking at me, and we both avert our eyes as quickly as we can. The wine is bitter in my mouth, but feels nice and warm as soon as it hits my stomach. Slowly but surely, the silence becomes more comfortable, maybe because of the alcohol. My heart starts to beat a little fast, and I finally draw in a breath in preparation to speak.

"So... I wanted to apologize."

Julius looks over at me, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Huh? What for?"

"For this morning..." I shake my head, guilt starting to bubble up again like a hot spring. Hot springs... damn, I'd like to go to a hot spring with Julius sometime- HOLD ON. Don't think about that right now!!! "The Captain... I'm sure you must feel very embarrassed."

"Embarrassed? Not at all! There's nothing embarrassing about helping a friend out." Friend? Oof. My stomach turns slightly at the word.

"I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if you were," I answer, staring at my wine glass to avoid his gaze. "You took my side, and Hervey just... shot us down."

"...of course I took your side."

His answer isn't hesitant, it's more sure than any phrase I've heard before. I glance over at him quickly to see him staring pensively at the ground. One of his hands rests heavily upon his knee, and I can't help but feel that it's resisting the urge to touch me.

"I still believe you, you know. Hervey is an ignorant old man who doesn't want to face the truth. There's bad eggs in this squad, and I'm going to smoke them out. After you ran off, I went right back to his office and told him that."

Julius finally looks over at me, and his grim expression melts into that warm, gentle smile. Those lips, and those little dimples... they make me weak.

"Something terrible happened to you, and I won't let them win. You're... special to me. And this isn't the first time someone special to me has been hurt this way."

...special? I blink, staring into his eyes as he speaks. His friend who died... I wonder-

"I'm not going to give up on you. I'm with you to the end."

I suddenly become aware that, somehow, his hand moved over, and is now holding mine. I didn't even notice the movement, I was so entranced by his words, but now he's touching me-

My lack of reaction suddenly hits him, and his hand quickly lets go. "Ah- well-" He laughs nervously, a light blush suddenly appearing on his cheeks. "I mean-"

Without really thinking about it, I reach out and grab his hand before he can retract it all the way, and he freezes mid-sentence.

"... Julius... do you really think I'm special?"

It's inconceivable. Julius, who's basically a perfect man, a powerful mage, and vice Captain... he thinks that I'm special?

He looks almost as nervous as I feel as he finally answers.

"Of course I do... maybe this is not my place to say... I know you're engaged and all... but..."

His voice trails off as he looks up to gaze into my eyes again, where he can see just the slightest glimmer of... 

...joy.

I lean in just slightly, and he does too, mirroring my movement without taking his eyes off of mine.

We're going to do it... I'm actually going to do it-

But then, he hesitates, for just a moment.

"...your fianc-"

I don't want to hear about my fiance. I don't want to hear anything. So I cut him off by closing the distance, my lips hitting his to halt his words. Julius freezes up, a little surprised that I made the final move.

It feels like time has stopped. This room doesn't exist anymore. The couch doesn't exist anymore. All there is are his eyes, widened and staring back into mine. But then, finally, even they close, and I close mine as well, letting everything melt away except the warmth from his lips. An arm quickly wraps around me and pulls me closer, so secure and safe, I forget about all the problems plaguing me.

It's bliss. Ecstasy. My first kiss with Lawrence ended with him shoving his tongue down my throat, but Julius is slow and calm, his lips just barely moving against mine yet commanding them perfectly. One of my hands clutches his arm while the other slides up his chest, relishing in the strong, firm muscles there that vowed to protect me. The sight of his skin before made me shut down, but I feel oddly pensive now that I finally have my hands on him.

He's so...

"...perfect."

"Hmm?"

I open my eyes as he pulls back just a little, the word rasping out from the kiss. Julius's eyes crack open a little, and he smiles at me tenderly, one of his hands coming up to caress my cheek. "You're perfect... so perfect." I shiver a bit as his hand slides over my back before hooking around my waist. With one smooth movement, he pulls me onto his lap, our bodies pressed so, so close together. I open my mouth wordlessly as our hips slot together, and-

"I saw how you were looking at me earlier." His voice is suddenly right in my ear as he leans in to kiss teasingly up my neck, and I nearly spasm as his lips ghost around the shell of my ear. His eyebrows pop up for a moment at the reaction, and I feel his grip tighten. "Don't worry... the feeling is mutual..."

"...oh?" It's taking a lot to remain calm right now, opposing forces willing me to either go limp with bliss or start tearing away at him immediately. "I don't know what you're talking about, Julius~"

I feel the hair on his arm stand up at the sound of his name on my lips, barely a whisper. Without much warning, his hand suddenly slides down and grabs a generous handful of my ass, causing me to cry out softly and jerk against his body. I quickly feel my face heating up as he chuckles at the impulse. "You shouldn't tease other men while you have a fiance, you know," Julius whispers in my ear again, having turned the tables with just one movement. His words and touches are still so gentle, but there's a firm undertone to them, letting me know that I'm right where he wants me. "That's so naughty... who knows what I'll do to you?"

"Maybe... you'll do exactly what I want you to do."

It's the truth. Julius pulls back to look at my face again, an almost giddy grin on his face that's both cute and sexy. He's been waiting for this, hasn't he? Waiting for me... I can't help but grin right back. Without another word, our lips crash into each other again, more hungry and heated than before. Julius lets out a soft groan and unexpectedly bucks his hips against mine, drawing a small whimper. Ow... god, he's- oh- My mind starts getting fuzzy as soon as I realize that he's... really turned on right now. His kisses turn almost desperate the longer we paw at each other, one of his hands gripping my ass while the other closes around the back of my neck, holding me there as his lips and tongue just... ravage me.

Ah... this is actually happening...

I rub my hips down into his, which spurs him to suddenly pull his lips from mine. "Look at you... bad girl." He chuckles a little as the phrase halts my movements, and he takes the opportunity to grab the hand that rests on his chest and drag it down his body. "At least do it properly~"

I don't even have to look down to know that he's already pulled his robe apart. My eyes stay fixed on his chest, not daring to travel down his perfect abs as he guides my hand down further... and further...

"...oh-"

Julius lets out a soft breath through his parted lips, his hand helping mine close around his thick-

"You feel that?"

"M-Mhm."

Oh my god...

"What do you think?"

"...big..."

That's an understatement.

Another chuckle vibrates his chest, his hand gently moving mine up and down the shaft. As if he can read the worries that suddenly fill my mind, Julius's voice softens just a little bit.

"Don't worry, it's not going to hurt. By the time I fuck you, you're going to be so wet."

W-wet...

With a stifled groan, his hand starts to speed my movements up.

"Your hands are so soft... so delicate..."

My mind is going fuzzy again.

Fuck...

What feels like a moment later, I'm on my back, him hovering above me. I let out a surprised squeak, since I didn't even notice the movement. "Ah! B-Be gentle-"

I blink, and everything comes back into focus. Julius looks... concerned, almost scared? His robe is tied up again, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh god... are you alright?"

"...what?" I try to sit up, but my head spins and I flop back down. "Wait, what happened? Did we-"

"You passed out, I think..." Julius's hand strokes my hair softly, his expression not changing. "You just suddenly went all cold and limp, and you didn't respond to your name-"

He keeps talking, but the words start to slur together.

I... passed out? What? Why? I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to make sense of it all. It was so hot, being there on his lap with him whispering those dirty things in my ear...

But...

"Hey, hey, don't cry! Ah!" 

Julius freaks out for real this time as tears suddenly bubble up from the corners of my eyes. "I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have pushed you so far, this is my fault, please-"

"H-Huh?" Julius looks like he's about to start crying too, and I quickly come to my senses. "No! No! It's not your fault, I-" 

Wait, why am I crying? Why did I pass out? I wanted this so bad, but why was I so...

Scared?

It hits me a moment later.

...oh...

"Julius...?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you just... hold me?"

"Yes, of course."

Before I know it, his arms are around me again, holding me close, but this time there's no heated moments... it's chaste. Comforting. Safe...

More tears leak out.

"I'm sorry for scaring you like that... that's never happened before."

"It's alright. I shouldn't have made you touch me... it wasn't right-"

"No, no, it was right. I wanted to." I squeeze my eyes shut. "It's just... I think... my body just sort of... shut off..."

Julius is silent for a moment, his hand still stroking my hair softly. "...do you know why?"

"...yeah."

Lawrence...

The tears start to get hot. Bitter.

"My fiance... he's five years older than me... so I had to grow up a lot faster than I should have..."

I don't really need to say any more. I bite my lip to stifle more tears as the arms around me tighten protectively. 

"That's horrible..."

I bury my face in his chest, just relishing his warmth. 

But, Julius... do you have any idea how much you've helped? Just by being here?

"I'm so sorry. I'll be more careful next time, okay?"

Next time...

For some reason, my face starts to heat up with shame. 

"Right... I-I should get going."

"What? I thought you were spending the night here-"

"No one's gonna murder me in my bed, Julius."

I start to pull away, but his grip is much too tight. My weary, exhausted body can't muster the strength to free myself right now. 

"No, you're staying here. I can sleep on the couch of you want, but I don't want to put you in danger."

His lips press against my forehead for a just a moment, but it's enough to make my heart flutter. Such a brief yet tender gesture... yet more love than I've ever received from Lawrence. 

Love...

That word scares me. 

"Alright, fine." I sigh and pull away to scowl up at his handsome face. "You can sleep with me if you want... just please put on some pajamas!"

Despite the seriousness of the moment before, we both burst out into giggles, and I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. "We can talk about all this later... but just know..." His hand squeezes mine gently.

"I'm very, very happy."

His words stick with me long into the night, after we both curl up under his covers for a long sleep. I've never actually slept next to someone before, but it's nice...

Yet, I can't shake the dread that laced this whole evening.

Please... I'm praying... let all this turn out okay.

I finally drift off to sleep, Julius's light snoring soothing my mind as much as his strong arms around me. 

To be continued...

Was this chapter okay? 0.0 LMK what you think!