#truly all of them have been SO good throughout the show!!

[pacificwaternymph]

I. ADORED. S2 of Arcane.

Final thoughts on the season below the cut

Season two was incredibly emotionally fulfilling. The climax was amazing. I loved the constant butterfly effect throughout the entire show, starting with Jayce as a child in the snow and Vi and Powder pulling off a heist leading up to all of this. All of it felt like a natural progression, so many threads of fate being woven together into one.

But there is a part of me that almost wishes they hadn't raised the stakes quite so high.

I know it's literally the namesake of the show and therefore this was probably always the plan, but there's a part of me that wishes they had left the Arcane out of it and just focused on the class war that got kind of... brushed over in Act 2?

It feels like they had to brush aside the themes of classism and oppression for the sake of making room for this bigger climax. And I think a big part of the reason I feel like this is because season 1 chose to focus so much on that part rather than the Arcane plot. So maybe I would have felt this way no matter what they did. But in their defense, they didn't forget about it entirely.

The shot with Sevika joining the council and several councilors giving her disgusted or mistrustful looks is a wonderful way to show that while they may have temporarily joined forces to defeat a bigger threat, the tensions between Piltover and Zaun are not automatically resolved. And I do like how Sevika is still the only councilor from Zaun. Everyone else is still topside. It's a good way to show that while a little progress has been made, it's only the beginning, and Sevika will likely have to fight tooth and nail for any reform.

Jinx's death... well I suppose I should have seen it coming. It was a good conclusion to her arc. But I still wish it hadn't happened. I am of the personal opinion that it didn't need to happen, and now I'm just left wondering how the hell Warwick/Vander was still alive when every other construct or whatever the hell they were had already died.

Vi... my darling. Even at the very end, couldn't catch a break. She really did lose everything. I'm glad she has Cait. I'm glad we got the sesbian lex scene. I just wish she could have ended the show genuinely happy, after having suffered so much throughout her entire life. I know for Arcane it's kind of a long shot for anyone to end up truly happy, but... I still really wanted it for her.

And on a lighter note: just when I thought I couldn't be any more attracted to Mel, the character designers decided to take that as a personal challenge.

I LOVE that they gave Mel more attention this season. The whole witch plotline and Mel having magic came kind of totally out of left field, but I still really enjoyed it. It gave Mel an actual role in this season which was less focused on internal politics, which I am glad for. It meant that she wasn't pushed to the side when the final climax came up. And I liked how her being a black rose put her in direct opposition to Ambessa, as opposed to the subtlety both of them had been employing up until that point. I liked the juxtaposition between the two of them, and I liked how she became the leader of Noxus following everything. Returning home after a long exile.

The completion of Viktor and Jayce's arc together was so fulfilling. I wasn't even sad about their deaths, I was glad that they were together, and that they could finish what they started together, just as both of them had always wanted.

I know everyone ships them but honestly I don't. I don't think their bond needs to be romantic. It transcends the need for those kind of labels. What's important isn't the exact nature of the relationship, it's the depth of it. It's the fact that their destinies, their souls have always been and always will be intertwined. And honestly the fact that they weren't explicitly romantic is almost better to me, because it defies the idea that relationships that deep always have to be romantic.

Ekko, as always, was perfect. My only complaint about him at all this season is that we didn't get more of him. I so adore him, I loved his episode in arc 3, it felt so perfect for him. To see what could have been, having just briefly everything he could ever want, and then knowing he had to leave it behind in order to keep moving forward.

And gosh, what a way of tying his time travel abilities into the story. It does make me kind of question what was going on with his fight with Jinx in season 1, if it wasn't actually time travel, though? Maybe we were just seeing another timeline, and he wasn't? Idk.

I'm so glad that at the end of the day, it was him that managed to save everyone. It wasn't perfect. He didn't bring anyone back to life. He didn't reset any timelines (which I am immensely grateful for, I would not have wanted everything that happened to be erased, it would have been such lazy writing), but he turned back time just enough to let Jayce snap out of his trance and free Viktor from the emotionless shell he'd surrounded himself with. He gave them one last moment together. And that's all they needed.

I don't know how I'm ever going to be the same after this. I am so glad for Arcane's existence.

[ggunight]

putting aside my obvious love for jinho and pentagon, i really do think crezl is such a standout unique team for phantom singer that adds a new dimension to the show’s concept of creating a crossover genre group. each of them has a totally different and distinct musical background: lee seungmin is an operatic baritone, lim kyuhyung is a musical actor, kim suin is a gugak/korean traditional music singer, and jinho is a pop singer obviously. and even before the finals, i think each of them stand out with their willingness and ability to experiment with genre. at least that’s why this specific group of singers is so exciting to me, and now they’ve shown how well they work together and combine their diverse strengths!! not to mention how fun they’ve been to watch (their team greeting is literally “where is the fun? in crezl!” lol) like.. i couldn’t dream of a better final team for jinho and the other teams are so talented so i truly have no clue how this will turn out. but no matter who wins i hope they do continue working together because they are SO fun to watch

[1980ssunflower]

aouhhh 🥺💖💙🥰

[monstersholygrail]

Rewarding Bad Behavior

Puppy Hybrid bf x fem!reader— pet play, tail plug, double penetration (plug), leashing to the wall, breath play, body worship

You had been bad recently whenever your Puppy Hybrid bf left you alone at the house. You would get into get into the pillows, shredding them up until feathers were everywhere, you’d break vases running around, and you’d always leave such a mess for him to come home to.

But you couldn’t help it. You missed him. He always seemed to be going out lately, leaving you home alone and bored. He taught you how to be a good pet for him, but he never taught you how to handle missing him. So you acted out.

You hated disappointing him and seeing him all upset at you. You hated being called a bad girl even more. You wanted to be good for him, you wanted it more than anything. If only he was around more then you’d get to show him that.

But he wasn’t and you can’t seem to get over that fact as you pace throughout the house. You swallow your moans as the pup tail plug snugly sunk into your bottom brushes along your walls with every step. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction even when he isn’t here to see it or feel how soaked your panties are.

As you walk down the hall your eyes catch onto the framed photos on the wall. Dozens of photos lined up of you and your Puppy Hybrid bf. You pout at them, growing more upset by the second. Wondering why he didn’t do fun stuff with you anymore. You tried your best to be good and he couldn’t see that.

The only time you truly get his attention is when you’re bad…

You hesitantly reach out toward one of the frames, lifting it off the wall. Your fingers trace the happy expressions on you and your Puppy Hybrid bf’s face. With a big ole huff you swing your arm up and throw the frame onto the floor. The shattering glass giving a satisfying crunch.

The rest is honestly all a blur. Your body moving on its own, your mind empty. All you could focus on is the crunch of glass.

A loud whistle pierces through the air, stopping your movements instantly. You pant heavily, your vision clearing as you meet your bfs livid eye. You shrink back at the fury in his gaze and the way his dog ears stand up all alert. Small whimpers leave you as you’re caught in the act.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your bf growls. The sight of your broken memories pinching at his heart.

You didn’t know what you expected. All you wanted was his attention. You didn’t really think about getting in trouble. In the lesson he might have to teach you.

Despite your nervousness, you can’t help but feel a flicker of arousal shoot through you. Your thoughts filtering through exactly what kind of pleasure your lesson could bring. You scurry around the glass left behind and sink down to all fours. Crawling over to him you sit at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whine, nuzzling the puppy-dog ears you’re wearing into his thigh. His gaze bores into you, making you squirm.

You quickly avert your gaze, unable to look at him anymore. You try your hardest not to lean in closer to him and hump on his leg to get you out of trouble. Knowing you could turn on the cuteness and be out of this in a flash. But you craved whatever attention he was going to give you. You needed his hands on you, to be surrounded by his touch and his scent.

His hand gently falls on your head, petting you softly. You immediately nuzzle into the embrace. His tail wags behind him, giving away some of just how much he’s enjoying this. The growing bulge in front of your face also gives him away. Your own bottom subconsciously shakes and you moan as the tail plug moves inside you.

“What made you do such a thing, pup?” He asks firmly. The disappointment laced in his tone has you cuddling closer against his leg. Seeking his comfort even now.

“Y-you haven’t been here very much. Only ever around when I’m bad. I-I didn’t know what else to do,” you admit, voice small.

His hand stills on your head and for a second so does your heart. You wait for his reaction with bated breath. After a second his fingers weave into your hair and he sharply tugs back your head. You cry out at the delicious sting on your scalp and instantly meet his eye. Your heart flutters at the softness in them.

“Have I not been giving my baby enough attention?” He coos at you a little condescendingly.

You whimper, giving him your best puppy dog eyes as you nod along to his question. A dark chuckle falls past his lips as lust sparks through his eyes.

“Aww, hunny. Well we’ll fix that right up, don’t worry.”

With a single snap of his fingers you stand up off the ground. He gives your bum a little slap and nods toward the bedroom. Your expression brightens and you hop over the mess of glass to head into the bedroom. Not worrying about it a bit. You know he’ll clean up and take care of you. It’s what he loves to do more than anything.

His laughter rings through the air, living to see his good girl so happy. He follows you into the bedroom but detours to the closet. He snatches up your special leash and attaches it to the wall above your headboard.

A series of whistles ring through the air and you immediately catch the signal. Hopping onto the bed you kneel on all fours. Staying perfectly still as your Puppy Hybrid bf connects the leash to the wall and to your very pretty collar.

He growls lowly in his throat, seeing you all posed and in position for him. He runs his hand up and down the plush curves of your naked body like you’re some kind of show dog, his cock aching in his pants and begging to ruin you.

“Gonna give my girl some extra special attention,” he rumbles lowly in a way that sends shivers up your spine.

You arch your back prettily for him as his hand moves down your back. His eyes flash with need and you relish in the reactions you can get for him. No matter how much control you appear to give him. He’s just as much putty in your hands.

In an instant he rolls onto the bed, kneeling right behind you. Grabbing hold of your wide hips he squeezes handfuls of flesh in his palms, moaning and grinding his clothed cock against your pussy. You mewl loudly, leaning back into him, desperate for more friction.

“Sh, sh, sh. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, don’t I, sweetheart?” He practically purrs.

The clinking of a metal buckle has your body gushing with anticipation. You’re an absolute mess for him. The apex of your thighs dripping with your need.

“Let me make it up to you, baby. Again and again and again.”

Without any warning your Puppy Hybrid bf thrust into you in one solid stroke. Your wetness making him glide in with ease. He growls loudly, realizing just how much you’ve needed him. And he’s ready to give you it all.

Puppy Hybrid bf groans in pleasure as he pounds his cock deep inside your eager fat cunt. You match his nosies of pleasure, not bothering to hold back in just how good he feels. His length igniting your every nerve.

The double penetration of his cock and the plug have them both feeling even bigger. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling back into your head. The sensation sending you to unimaginable heights of pleasure you never fail to reach with him.

His hands grab at you like you’re the most precious thing on earth and your heart soars. You cry out, jerking back and meeting each of his thrusts. Desperate to have him inside of you as deeply as possible.

As you go to thrust back once more, you go too far, and the chain keeping you attached to the wall is quick to stop you. A small yelp leaves you but a moan quickly replaces it as your collar tightens. You clench around his cock and your bf chuckles darkly.

“Careful, sweet pup, wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

His hands hold onto your plump hips tighter, using his hold to slam you back down on his cock. A fierce scream echos through the air but it’s quickly cut off as the collar grows tighter once more. You know what he’s doing and it turns you on to no end, your sopping pussy fluttering around his length.

With the collar slowly restricting your breathing and your holes being stuffed full to the brim you can’t contain the power of your orgasm. A strangled gasp tears forces its way past your lips as your orgasm rolls through you. Your vision flashes white and you go limp, letting your bf help work you through such ecstasy.

Puppy Hybrid bf buries himself inside you, all the way to the hilt before finally giving in and coming. Thick ropes of cum shoot deep inside your pussy and you weakly moan, trying to milk him for everything he can give you.

When he tries to pull out you immediately clench down, trying to keep him connected to you. Whimpers spill from your lips, your heart aching with need. Your bf shushes you softly, rubbing his hands along your curves and gently soothing you.

You can’t help but wince as he pulls out. But the brief ache is long forgotten the moment he gathers you up in his arms. Unlocking the leash and bringing you both down onto the bed. He molds your body to his, petting you and kissing you. Giving you all the affection you’ve been begging for in all your own ways.

“I’m not going anywhere, love. I won’t leave you again. I’m staying right here where I belong,” he whispers lovingly into your ear. Somehow managing to calm all your worries with just a few simple words.

And you know without a doubt he means all of them, trusting him to care for you in every single way.

[yuwuta]

CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART BURNING, CAN YOU FEEL ALL MY GOOD LOVING — YUUJI ITADORI

cw: mentioned sex, friends to lovers, yuuji greatest boy 

The first time that Yuuji asks you out, you reject him. It’s not a matter of not liking him or liking him (even though you do like him, a lot)—it’s a matter of maintaining your friendship, about weighing risk versus reward, and about pushing your personal feelings aside for what’s best for everybody. 

Yuuji doesn’t listen. To him, your rejection was just confirmation about what he already knew about you—that you had a tendency to run away or avoid things you didn’t want to confront, but only when you were really, truly scared.

So, he does what he does best; he takes it to the next level. Despite being rejected, he holds your hand, and pulls you close, gives you kisses on your cheek, and your neck sometimes, and once you even let him leave a hickey, even though you spew the same mantra of—“You shouldn’t—Yuuji we shouldn’t be doing this”—you let him charm you every time.

Because Yuuji knows that you like him back, and he knows that even though you’re scared to say it, deep down you know that he’s always been yours. Because Yuuji is your best friend, and he knows better than anyone how to punch through the walls you so carefully build up. Because, honestly, you should have learned by now to stop trying to keep him out—he makes his way in no matter how many walls you put up. 

It’s how you end up in bed with him only three mere weeks after rejecting his confession. And even though you’ve both been as close as two people can be, Yuuji knows he’s missing one thing from you; one final seal to show you that he’s it, that there’s nothing to be afraid of, and to get you to stop running once and for all. 

Which is exactly why when you ask him if he wants to see thew new Spiderman movie after breakfast, he smiles and puts his plan into action. 

“Yeah, of course,” Yuuji grins, “If you say that it’s a date.” 

Your smile falls halfway, but Yuuji’s only widens as he slips his hands into his pockets. He waits, expectantly, even through your stunned silence, and you finally sigh when he begins to rock on his heels.  

“Yuuji, you know that–” 

“What I know is that you’ve got to get out of that head of yours sooner than later,” he says, leaning forward to happily invade your space to tap at your forehead, “And that you love me.”  

“Yeah, I kind of thought the confession that I only turned you down because I didn’t want to lose you, and the having sex with you last night kinda let you show that.” 

“Yes, yes, there was all of that,” Yuuji moves his hands to cup the sides of your head, looks into your widening eyes and grins, “But I’m giving you a way to make it official in that complicated little head of yours. So, go on, ask me out. I promise I won’t say no.” 

Your eyebrows pinch together. Yuuji immediately moves his thumbs to stroke at the tail ends of them as you pout, “What do you mean ‘make it official?’ I know—I mean I hope that all our feelings are official.” 

“Make it official to you,” Yuuji clarifies, using his right thumb to tap at your temple, “In that beautiful—” he bends forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, “—smart —” another kiss, “—very complicated —” and another, “—head of yours that I love so much. So, like I was saying: ask me out, so that you get your closure even though you don’t think you need it, and you start seeing and learning that I don’t want to do anything with you without romantic intentions.” 

Yuuji presses one last kiss before pulling away to show you his glowing smile. Your expression softens through his speech—confusion sinking into surprise and then pure adoration. You’re slightly amazed that Yuuji has deciphered this for you before you could even fathom a justification behind your emotions, but then again, you think, you shouldn’t be; Yuuji has proved, throughout the course of your friendship and his courtship, that you have his undivided attention—that you are the object of his desires, and as such, it’s only natural that he knows the parts of you that you don’t think about.  

So, you concede, push your shock and pride aside, and close that embarrassing gaping mouth of yours because this is Yuuji and for all the shit you’ve put him through, the least you could do is ask him out.  

“Okay. Will you go to the movies with me?”  

Except when screws up his face and purses his lip in dissatisfaction, you wonder if you should put him through the wringer yourself.  

Yuuji’s grip on your head tightens ever so slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, just enough for him to manually shake your head to mirror his own, “You have to make it clearer that you’re asking me out. We go to the movies all the time, I love movies—” 

“Yeah, exactly,” you frown, reaching your right hand to grab at Yuuji’s wrist to still your shaking head, “I’m asking you to do something I know you love.”  

“Ah, but you see how that’s confusing to me,” Yuuji quips, “I am but your oblivious friend—you have to let me know that you want me to be there with you because you like me, otherwise I might not know for the next twenty-something years, and history will repeat itself and—ow!” 

“I get it, you asshole,” you bite. Yuuji gives you a shallow shrug, and a crooked smile, that you, begrudgingly, find endearing. So much so that you groan and let your head fall forward until your forehead is pressed against Yuuji’s chest. You can hear his laughter; feel the way his palms immediately latch to your back to rub shallow circles. “This is stupid. I can’t believe I like you and you’re making me do all this for some three-hour movie.” 

“Oh, wrong L-word, try again.” 

“Even worse. You know I love you and you insist on making me do this.” 

“You must think I’m worth it, or you would have left me hanging a long time ago,” Yuuji gives you another kiss to the crown of your head, before he holds you by the shoulders to urge you to stand up straight, “Now come on, ask me out, sweep me off my feet, m’lady.” 

You blink your eyes open slowly, adjusting for the sparkling image of Yuuji standing before you, waiting far too patiently. That awe washes over you again—a wave for the overbearing love you feel for him, another for the incredible soul the boy in front of you is—for how lucky you truly are to have him.  

And you are lucky to have Yuuji. To be loved by Yuuji. So, you reach for his hands and wrap yours around them before you look up to face him and ask, “Itadori Yuuji, will you go out with me?” 

“Yes, and I’ll do you one better,” he smiles, shakes your hands off so that he can put them on your waist to pull you to his chest, “I’ll be your boyfriend, too.” 

[kissesforsatoru]

yandere! gojo x fem! reader nsfw thirst

imagine yandere gojo finally getting his darling lover in his bed, and he just completely loses all self-control because it feels too damn good. he completely loses himself in how good you feel around him, how delicious you look underneath him, how beautiful you sound. who are you to blame him anyway when this is just his way of showing you how much he loves you, how attracted he is to you.

he promised you that he would be gentle with you for your first time together. kissed you sweetly on your forehead to reassure you after telling you he would go slow and do things on your terms. and- at first, he is gentle and slow, just like he promised (and you have to give him credit for trying). he takes his sweet time showing you the proper love your body deserves, sensually kissing his way down your body, feeling how warm you are and how you shiver deliciously under his feathery light touch.

he controls the urge to utterly devour you when he first licks at your pretty cunt, tasting you, savoring you. he sates the urge by slipping one of his fingers inside of you as his tongue laves over your clit, enjoying how you squirm yet buck your hips to chase the pleasure he's giving you. god, does it take a lot to restrain that urge too. you truly have no idea how long he's waited to finally have you.

he tries to make really good on his promise to be gentle and slow throughout the whole thing, but the second he buries his cock all the way to the base inside of you, he loses every bit of the fragile self-control he's carefully been trying to keep in check thus far.

you choke when he pulls out of you only to immediately slams back in, throwing his head back and groaning like a feral animal. he leans into you, hovering so close to your face that your breaths mix hotly between you two. "shit, shit— i'm so sorry, sweetheart," he grunts as he thrusts, not being gentle in the least bit like he said he would, and you can't do anything but whine and mewl, tears flooding your eyes from how intense it all is. maybe you press on his chest with those trembling hands of yours, but he pays them no mind. "god, you feel so fucking good, i can't help it."

"can't—holy shit—can't stop, baby—f-forgive me." his voice is strained and gruff, and you know after that there's no chance of him stopping, or even slowing down for that matter. it just feels too damn good inside of you, and that is not his fault.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Everlasting Sweetheart

(Older!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader)

Summary: Ever since you presented there’s never been an alpha that smelled alluring to you. But when you move to Hawkins to be closer to your family you catch the scent of your next door neighbor, who just so happens to be the most handsome older man you’ve ever seen, and he smells phenomenal. It’s just your luck that he’d end up being your dad’s best friend, right? WK:15.3k(Oopsie)

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors (scenting, knotting, marking), age gap (Eddie is 41, reader is 27) breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), some angst (with a happy ending), mutual pining, pregnancy mentions, it’s the mid 00s (around 2007), fluff, Eddie and reader are both so down bad. 18+MDNI!!

A/N: Okay, I truly put my heart and soul into this one. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I honestly feel like Dr. Frankenstein and this is my monster. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch for always being amazing and hyping me up. And a special thank you to my omegaverse Jedi master @lesservillain, thank you for brainstorming with me and gassing me up throughout this entire process, this one’s for you, shawty. (older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple) Masterlist.

You smelled it the minute you entered the building and it hasn’t left your nose since. That musky, woodsy smell that had hints of something spicy sweet, like cinnamon. It’s been a week since you moved in and you can smell it in every crevice of your apartment. It’s intoxicating. You’ve never been attracted to the smell of an alpha in this way. But there was only one problem, you’ve yet to lay eyes on the owner of the scent. Not for lack of trying either, you took extra long pulling your keys out, put some cute decorations on your front door, you even resorted to peeking out the window every time you heard someone walk by. To no avail.

It was starting to drive you insane, other alphas had smelled good to you before but nothing like this. It was like every time you so much as breathed in your panties got just a little bit more damp. Your hands have been wandering between your legs and reaching for the drawer in your nightstand more often than they have in your entire life and you don’t even have a face to blame. Just the scent that you can’t even seem to escape even when you leave the house, it’s like it’s sunken into your pores. You sometimes wonder if they can smell you too.

At the almost two week mark you can’t take it anymore. Deciding to take matters into your own hands you get out all the ingredients you will need to make your homemade cream pie. Baking for your new neighbors was a completely normal, neighborly, thing to do. You would just make the pie and go knock on the door. Easy.

You spent half the day baking and doing chores between steps, purposefully waiting until the evening time when most people would be home from work to deliver your sugary treat. You were also hyping yourself up. You had no idea who this scent that had been plaguing you belonged to. Was it a man? A woman? Did they already have a mate? If they did you don’t think you would be able to smell them this strongly, so you’re banking on them being single.

When 6 o’clock rolls around you decide it’s time to put your plan into motion. You put the finishing touches in the pie before going into your room to find the perfect outfit. Were you just walking ten feet to your neighbors door? Yes. Did you still want to look your best without looking like you tried to look your best? Also yes.

You decide on a little cream dress that has tiny cherries printed all over it and little red bows on the straps, paired with your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two braids and do your everyday make up before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked good. The dress fit your figure and accentuated your curves perfectly while also showing off just the right amount of cleavage.

“Alright, you can do this.” You take a deep breath, which doesn’t really help because your nose is just invaded with the scent that you’re hoping to put a face to in the next few minutes. You grab the pie and walk out the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

Eddie lets out an annoyed groan at the sound of a knock on his door, he had just got home from a long day of work and was toweling off after his post work shower. He wasn’t expecting anyone, who the hell is at his door at 7PM on a Wednesday night unannounced? The only people that come here are his friends, and they always call before.

There’s a second round of soft knocks so he quickly finishes drying off his hair before wrapping the dampened cloth around his waist. He pulls the bathroom door open and is immediately hit with the scent. The bathroom filled with steam and the smell of his own shower products seemed to be the only place he could escape it nowadays. But he’s never smelled it this strongly. He knows a new omega moved in next door, he’s been able to smell them since the day they walked into the complex. But he’s yet to catch a glimpse of them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Eddie gave up on the hope of finding a mate years ago. Every time he tried to be with an omega they either smelled off to him or he smelled off to them.

But ever since he caught a whiff of this scent it’s been plaguing his senses. A scent has never smelled sweeter, or stronger. It’s like someone turned his house into the best bakery in town. It smelled like whoever lived next door was baking the most delicious cookies anyone’s ever tasted. When he got home today the sweetness was at an all time high, especially when he walked past his new neighbors door. He couldn’t help himself when he stopped outside of it to inhale deeply. It was so delicious it made his head spin. And now? The smell was getting stronger with every step he took towards the door. It made his heart rate speed up and his cock stir under the thin material of the towel around his waist.

He approaches the door and his hand hovers over the knob for a second. He needed to get himself under control. If the owner of the scent that’s been possessing him for the last two weeks is on the other side he needs to try and keep it together. He sighs, shaking his head so his hair falls off his shoulders before grabbing onto the knob and pulling the door open. The swing of the door kicks up wind, sending the smell wafting directly towards him. It nearly knocks him on his ass, his ears start to ring, his eyes land on a pair of shiny black Mary Jane’s before traveling up a pair of bare legs, hungrily drinking in curves covered by the thin material of a pretty little dress, until they land on the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Your face. Your eyes are wide, your pupils blown, your dainty ring covered fingers are clutching what looks like a pie tin. The way you’re looking at him like a little deer caught in the headlights is making him want to tackle you to the ground and-

“Uh - hi… I’m your new neighbor. I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself, and I uh - I made you this.” You raise the baked good in your hands up between the two of you with a nervous smile.

“Oh - um - yeah, thank you, that’s really nice of you.” He anxiously scratches the back of his neck, returning your smile with a nervous one of his own. “Do you bake a lot? I swear ever since you moved in it smells like someone opened a bakery next door.”

“Usually yes, this is the first time I’ve gotten my baking stuff out since the move though.” He watches as your eyes roam over his bare inked chest, down to his hips where the towel is resting lowly, almost showing off the patch of hair above his cock. Were you checking him out? You had to be almost half his age. What would you want with an old unwanted alpha like him? He needs to get it together. You're just being nice, neighborly. “But I uh - just wanted to say hello, I won’t keep you. You seem busy.”

“Wait!” He didn’t even realize how desperate it sounded until it left his lips. God Eddie, snap out of it. “You didn’t even tell me your name, sweetheart.”

“Oh! I guess that’s kind of part of introducing yourself, huh?” You giggle and tell him your name and it goes off like a mantra in his head. “And you are?”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Eddie.” He offers you a friendly smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. You take it and the minute your skin grazes his it’s like a shockwave is sent through his body. His entire body was on fire. Especially where he was still holding your soft hand in his larger rough one. Oh shit he was still holding onto your hand. “Shit, sorry, I just got this towel out of the dryer, must be staticky.”

“Huh? Oh! That’s okay, might’ve been me too, I just did some laundry and I’m out of dryer sheets.” You shrug, pulling your hand from his. He immediately feels cold, and misses the feeling of your touch. What is going on with him? No one has ever had this kind of effect on him. He doesn’t even know you. But god he wants to. Your sweet voice, your otherworldly scent, your curves in that little dress you were wearing. Your hair was off your neck and he could see your mating gland so clearly. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. A shiver runs through him at the thought.

“Oh I’m sorry! You must be so cold standing here, I won’t keep you. Here! I hope you like it, it’s my signature cream pie!” You hold the pie out to him with the sweetest smile on your face. God was everything about you sweet? And you baked for him? A cream pie? No omega has ever made anything for him and it was doing things to him he wished it wasn’t. He needs to get away from you before he pops a very noticeable boner through his towel.

“Thank you om- sweetheart, that was very sweet of you.” He takes the pie from you, giving you the most casual smile he can muster.

“No problem, baking relaxes me, so it was my pleasure.” You clasp your hands together in front of you, rocking back and forth in your heels a few times. “Well I’ll uh - see you around, Eddie. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, thanks again for the pie. Have a good night.” He offers you a small smile and a nod before he’s rushing back inside, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck.”

It’s been a few days since you finally put a face to the scent that feels like it has been clogging your every pore. But it was like somehow the encounter enhanced it by tenfold. You don’t know who you were expecting to be on the other side of that door but that man is something straight out of your fantasies. He was gorgeous. His curly chestnut hair was slightly dripping from the shower, droplets sliding down his broad tattooed chest. The muscles in his abs and arms, which were also covered in tattoos, made it seem like he definitely spent some of his time working out. His face was gorgeous, the way he smiled at you and the shine of his brown doe eyes made you feel like your insides were melting. But most of all? Smelling him that close made your head spin. You’d never smelled anything or anyone like him. You wanted to bottle it up and snort it like your new favorite drug.

Just because you haven’t seen him, it doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. You find yourself peeking out your window when you hear footsteps in the hallway an embarrassing amount, you linger in your doorway when you’re coming and going more often than not, and you even started spending more time on your balcony in hope that he might decide to use his at the same time as you. To no avail. But the walls were thin, so you could hear him, and even though the building was supposed to be a secondary gender coed complex with insulated walls, you could still smell him. Constantly.

Sometimes you’d hear him playing 80s metal while slight grunts floated through the walls. You couldn’t tell if he was working out or jerking off but you honestly hoped for the ladder. You’d hear him clanking around in his kitchen, singing along to dorky dad rock, the kind of shit your dad listens to. Sometimes you’d hear him playing guitar and you aren’t even ashamed to admit that you’ve pleasured yourself to the sound once or twice, wrapped in a veil of his scent as it travels through your shared bedroom wall.

He was driving you insane, you needed to see him again. So when you were baking your dads favorite chocolate cupcakes you decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a few extra for Eddie. It gave you a chance to see him again, and baking also genuinely calmed you. You knew it was definitely mostly your biological instinct but you genuinely enjoyed caring for others. Cooking for them, helping them with self care, offering comforting touches, it all soothed something and scratched an itch inside you that could only be described as primal.

You frosted the cupcakes, putting a few of them in a separate container for Eddie before going to get dressed. You noticed he usually got home around 5:30PM and judging by your last visit he usually showered immediately so you had some time to figure out your outfit and fix your hair and make up to your liking. You decided to go with a little black mini skirt, a cropped black cardigan with nothing underneath, your white ruffle socks, and your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two low pigtails and tie white ribbons around each one. You grab the cupcakes off the counter and walk out the door a little after 6:45PM.

You take a deep breath, which literally does nothing to help you while you’re standing right outside his front door, his scent invading your nostrils, making your head spin. You knock on the door lightly before taking a step back, adjusting your already straight skirt out of nervousness. You hear footsteps on the other side of the door and as the knob turns your heart rate quickens.

“Oh, hi.” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and he scratches the back of his neck in a way that makes you think he’s almost nervous. But he couldn’t be, could he? This man was gorgeous, and he smelled phenomenal, he had to be popular with women, right? There’s no way he wasn’t. He was wearing fucking grey sweatpants this time, and an old band tee that he cut the neck and hem off of. He also cut off the sleeves, exposing his toned arms and his tattooed ribs.

“Hey! I was baking cupcakes for my dad and I made more than him or I will ever need to eat, so I figured I’d bring you some of the extras!” You smile at him sweetly as you hold up the container.

“That’s… really sweet, thanks.” Is he blushing? Cute. He takes the container from you, your fingers brush and send that same shockwave through your entire body, causing you to let out a small gasp. It was so small that if you weren’t in the worlds most echo prone hallway he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all. Did you uh - enjoy the pie?” You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself.

“Yeah, fuck, it was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you. I’ve never had a pie that good before. You some kind of professional baker or something?” He gives you a lopsided grin and it relieves some of the tension in the air. But the nickname and the glint in his eye pick up your heart rate in a different way and you have to stop yourself from clenching your

thighs at the combination of the sight and smell of him.

“Oh nothing like that, I mean, I just opened a little bakery downtown and I went to culinary school but I wouldn’t call myself a professional or anything.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair around your fingers.

“That’s a professional in my book, you’re like a certified dealer of baked goods.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully and it makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.

“If you say so.” You giggle again, rocking back and forth on your feet. “But I’m glad you liked the pie, I hope you like these too. If you ever have any requests I’d love to make you something you’re actually craving sometime.”

You didn’t realize how suggestive that sounded until Eddie started going into a coughing fit, choking on air at your words.

“Sorry I - didn’t mean - “

“Hey, I’d love for you to give me something I’m craving sometime, sugar.” He smirks, his eyes momentarily unashamedly roaming your figure. “I’m a big fan of peach cobbler, if you ever want to go to all the trouble for an old man like me.”

“Psh! You’re not even that old! How old are you, like 35?” You playfully roll your eyes at him, feeling calmed by his demeanor yet again.

“Try 41, sweets.” He chuckles, his hand coming up to rub the well trimmed stubble on his chin. Now that his hair is dry you can see a few grays throughout and if anything it just makes him sexier. “And what about you, huh? Bet I’m like twice your age.”

“Not even! I’ll have you know I’m 27.” You tell him matter of factly.

“Alright, you got me there, bet you still get carded at all the bars, huh? Pretty little thing like you.” Oh god, he’s fully flirting with you now.

“Hey I could say the same for you, handsome. I thought you were younger. You look good.” You wink at him, taking an opportunity to let your eyes roam him for a moment. “You should taste them, the cupcakes.”

“Alright, as you wish.” He pops open the container, taking one of the chocolatey treats in his ring adorned tattooed hand. He pulls back the shiny red paper, and takes a large bite. His eyes roll back and a moan leaves the back of his throat. You have to hold in one of your own at the sound. You can’t help but imagine what he looks like when he cums in that moment. “Fuuuuck this is so goddamn good, thank you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, sure Eddie, anytime. I’ll uh, see you around?” You smile at him hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be around. If you ever need anything, let me know, alright?” He returns your smile, using his thumb to push some frosting on the corner of his mouth between his lips, sucking it off. Alright, time to go, before you say or do something stupid.

“Cool, same to you. Have a good night.” You offer him a small wave.

“Yeah, have a good night, sugar.”

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Eddie was starting to think you put a spell on him, he had only spoken to you twice and you were all he could think about it. He found his mind wandering when he was at work, almost tattooing his clients on autopilot. His coworkers all called him out, asking who the “special lady” who had his head in the clouds was. He brushed them off, of course. You weren’t really anything to him other than his neighbor, but that didn’t mean you weren’t necessarily special. There was just something about you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it was like part of him was missing when you weren’t around. Which sounded ridiculous, but it didn’t help that he could smell you constantly. Even when he wasn’t at home it was like your scent was embedded in his fucking bones.

The fact that you kept baking for him didn’t help, it was doing something to the alpha in him that he’s never experienced. He’s never had an omega fuss over him in any way, so you were really pulling on his heart strings. It didn’t hurt that you were a knockout. You were absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He didn’t think you’d be interested in him, due to his age, but you were definitely flirting with him when you brought him those cupcakes yesterday. Eddie’s dating game might be rusty, but he wasn’t blind. He still had his doubts, you could just be having some fun with your new neighbor. Omegas were never interested in him for more than a quick fuck, the amount of times he’s been told that something about his scent was just “off” has left him insecure and rough around the edges.

He’s deep in his thoughts about you when he exits the elevator to your shared floor, where he’s immediately flooded with your scent like he always is. But something about it today was off, and not in the way those omegas meant about his being off, you were distressed. He could tell from the way you smelled just a little sour, but still so so good. It immediately sent him into a panic, were you okay? Did someone hurt you? Did you need help?

He swiftly turns the corner to your hall and he sees you standing in front of your door with your cell phone held to your ear. You’re anxiously tapping your foot while you chew on the nails of your free hand. Whoever you’re calling clearly doesn’t answer because you throw your head back, slamming the flip phone shut with a groan.

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The sound of heavy footsteps has you whipping your head in the direction of your intruder. Something inside you softens at the sight of Eddie approaching you with a concerned look on his face. You had been trying to call the property company for the last hour. After you took a shower you tried to turn it off but no matter how hard you turn it the hot water knob won't budge. So your shower had been running for the last hour and a half at least.

“Hey, are you alright?” The concern in his voice matched the furrow in his brow, it was almost like you could even smell his concern dripping into his scent. You wonder if maybe his alpha nose caught a whiff of your distress. You’ve been told by other alphas you smell awful when you’re upset.

“Yeah, no, kind of? I don’t know. My shower won’t shut off and the stupid fucking property management isn’t picking up their emergency phone.” You huff, clutching your little hot pink razor in your hand.

“Yeah, they basically never answer that damn phone, they might as well just stop giving it out at this point. These faucets are old and finicky, mine gets stuck from corrosion all the time. I can check it out, if you want?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, but I’d really appreciate the help. I can cook up a storm but I don’t know a damn thing when it comes to things like this.” Your lips form into a pout and Eddie wants to kiss it off so badly. It was becoming increasingly harder each time he sees you to control himself around you.

“It’s not a bother, sugar. I told you to tell me if you needed anything, remember? I think this qualifies. Let me just grab my tools, alright?” He shoots you a wink that has you almost forgetting why you were even upset a few seconds ago.

It only took him a few minutes to come back out of his apartment with his tools in hand. If he was being honest he spent a little extra time trying to calm himself down before going inside your home. Surrounded by your scent and all things you. You smile sweetly at him, opening your front door to let him inside.

Eddie feels like the wind got knocked out of him the minute he steps into your apartment. If he thought your smell was overpowering in his house it was mind altering inside your own. His knees felt like they were going to give out and he had to will himself to not get hard. He took a quick look around while you led him towards the bathroom. Your decor was cute, it had an almost vintage witchy kind of feel to it and it was extremely cozy. Your purple velvet couch and the framed horror movie posters give him a tiny bit of insight on who you are. You had candles lit, and your radio was quietly playing some kind of whiny emo sounding music he’s heard in passing but couldn’t name. It was all so unique, just like your scent.

“Okay so, the cold knob and the shower knob work just fine but the hot won’t turn off. It’s like stuck or something.” You walk into the bathroom and he follows, pushing back your black and purple moonphase curtain. You take advantage of the opportunity to ogle him while his back is turned to you. He looks good today. A plain black tee shirt is tight on his broad shoulders, black jeans that are ripped at the knees and hug his ass just right, and black doc martens on his feet. His hair is tied back in a low bun and he has his usual rings on his fingers, a studded belt and a pants chain complete the look. He was so fucking hot. Damn.

“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of corrosion. Easy fix.” He looks over his shoulder at you and you try to avert your gaze, or at least close your fucking mouth but you can tell by the smirk he gives you that he caught you gawking.

“Sweet. Thanks, Eddie.” You give him the most composed smile you can. Having him in your home was making you dizzy. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve been around plenty of and even slept with a few other alphas but something about Eddie was different. It’s like someone made him in a factory, just for you. You wanted to climb him like a tree and shove your nose in his scent gland if you were being honest.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He leans over to grab a few tools from his toolbox and his tee shirt rides up, revealing a delicious silver of tattooed skin. The way his hands looked gripping the tools and the grunts he was letting out as he started to loosen the knob had you clenching your thighs. Not only did he look absolutely delicious, he was also taking care of you, and the omega inside warmed at the thought. His neck muscles flexed and the veins on his hands were bulging. His musky scent filled the room, and it was starting to make you dizzy. You felt a layer of sweat starting to build on your skin underneath your hoodie and you suddenly felt like how you feel the days leading up to your heat.

“I’m thirsty, do you want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out as a little shaky, despite your best efforts to center yourself. “I have umm… water, fresh squeezed lemonade, milk, tea, I could make coffee, I think I have some red wine.”

“I’ll take some of that lemonade, if you don’t mind.” He turns his body to look at you, a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“One lemonade, coming right up.” You give him a thumbs up you immediately decide was probably as awkward as the smile on your face. You just need to get away from him for a second. You turn and rush out of the bathroom, your knees buckling as you grasp onto the kitchen counter for support. “Jesus Christ, get it together.”

Your heat wasn’t due for another two weeks but you felt like it was going to happen any second. Your head was spinning, you felt feverish, the warmth of your skin causing you to rip your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your small cropped tank and your sleep shorts. But it still felt like too much. A stabbing pain shoots through your core and causes you to cry out.

Eddie tightens the wrench tight, turning the knob off and on a few times to make sure it’s working right. When it works both times he smiles triumphantly. His smile drops immediately when he hears you cry out in what sounds like pain. He drops the wrench on the ground and runs out of the room in a panic. The minute he enters the kitchen he starts to feel dizzy. Your scent is stronger and sweeter than ever before, your hoodie is discarded on the ground next to you leaving your curves exposed to him in your little pajamas. But that’s not even the worst part. Your body is folded over the kitchen counter and covered in a shein layer of sweat, you’re panting while little whimpers escape from your lips. But worst of all? There’s saccharine sweet slick dripping down your thighs. Fuck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie wants to kick himself for asking, obviously you’re not. You tense at the sound of his voice, but you don’t turn to look at him. A whine louder than the others leaves your lips and your body shakes slightly.

“No - I - yeah, I’ll be fine. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry. I wasn’t due for my heat for a few weeks I wouldn’t have invited you in if-“

“Hey.” His large hand on your shoulder makes you jump at first but then it sends a feeling of relief washing through you. His scent is still overwhelming but it’s also so soothing. You want to throw yourself into his arms and inhale his scent gland until you can’t breathe anymore. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s totally natural, I’m not judging you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Your shower is fixed. I should uh - I should go.”

A whine involuntary wracks through you at the thought of him leaving, but if you asked him to stay and help you, would he? He hardly knew you. You don’t even know if you smell good to him or not. But the primal part of your brain doesn’t care, the primal part of you just wants him to make it all go away.

“I’m sorry, I just know if I stay here I’m not going to be able to control myself and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you or make you uncomfortable.” He pats your shoulder awkwardly, it’s taking everything in him not to rip those shorts in half and shove his cock balls deep inside you in one thrust. He knows he could, your little omega pussy is dripping and ready for his knot. Every single instinct in his body is screaming at him to help you. The thought of leaving you here alone makes him want to puke, but he also doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t want you to do anything you’d regret later because he doesn’t know if he can handle being one of your regrets.

“Please.” It comes out a broken whisper but Eddie could hear you loud and clear. He was pretty sure he knew what you were asking, but he needed you to tell him.

“Please what, sugar?” His large calloused hand runs up and down your arm and you try to hold in the moan that escapes you but it slips past your lips anyways. His touch is like what you imagine taking a hit of hard drugs feels like.

“Please, help me Eddie.” You turn your head towards him, your cheek squished up against the cool countertop. You look up at him through your lashes, your lips forced into a pout. “Make it go away.”

“Sweetheart… are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret once you have a clear head…” He pushes your hair out of your face, his thumb running along the apple of your cheek. You subconsciously nuzzle into his palm and you’re just so sweet he wants to devour you.

“Won’t regret it. Want you so bad. I can smell you all the time, you smell so good. You make me crazy. Please, I need you.” Eddie lets out an exasperated breath. So you could smell him too, and he smelled good to you. He’s never had an omega tell him that and it filled him with pride. He’s never felt truly needed by someone in the way his body biologically desired, he’s never spent a heat with an omega before. Now this pretty little thing was practically begging for him. How could he refuse?

“I can smell you too, ya know? The day you moved in I caught your scent. I’ve never smelled anything like you before, and you’re so beautiful. If we do this I don’t know how I’m going to let you go afterwards.”

“Then don’t.” You say it so matter of fact, and he can tell your awareness was slipping, soon all you’d be able to think about was his knot.

“Are you positive about this? I mean it, I’m already addicted to you and I haven’t even tasted you yet.” His thick thumb runs over your pouty bottom lip and you dart your tongue across the pad of it. You moan, the taste of his sweat sending another wave of slick down your legs.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, alpha.” Eddie fucking growls at that, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He carries you to your room and tosses you on the bed. He leans over you, his ink adorned forearms on either side of your head. His face is inches from yours and you can’t take it anymore, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth down to connect his lips to your own.

When your lips connect both of your bodies feel like they’re on fire, Eddie suddenly feels the overpowering need to protect you from anything and everything for the rest of his life, to sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck, and stuff you full of his cum. Plugging it with his knot so none escapes, and he doesn’t want to stop until you have his baby inside you. He’s not even in his rut and he’s never felt like this before in his life. Your tongues intertwine and he’s never tasted anything so sweet. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, savoring your taste, drinking up your moans.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet, just like sugar.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses on your scent gland. He stops there to shove his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll in the back of his head and he lets out a feral moan. “Never smelled anything sweeter either, most omegas smell a little off to me, but you? You smell divine, sweet thing.”

“Mmm Eddie, you smell so good too, never smelled anyone as good as you.” Your mind is clouded with lust, the fever rising in your body and the pain in your abdomen due to your heat making you dizzy. He pushes the front of your tank top down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arches off the bed and your hands find purchase in his hair again. He reaches back to pull it free from the hair tie, his mouth switching to your other nipple.

“Glad I smell good to you, most alphas say I smell weird.” He pulls your tank top down to your hips before pushing it down with your shorts in one swift motion, leaving you in just your soaked cotton thong.

“Funny, you’re the first omega to ever tell me I smell good to them too. Maybe we were meant to be baby.” He jokes, sending you a wink before latching his mouth onto your clothed core. A growl rips through him, if he thought your spit tasted good the taste of your slick had to be the most divine cuisine known to man. His tongue flicks out to lick your sensitive clit through the material of your panties and you buck against his mouth.

“More.” If you weren’t so far gone you’d be embarrassed at how broken and desperate your voice sounds but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. All you could think about was Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I’ll give you anything you want, baby girl, don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.” He rips your panties down your legs and hooks your thighs over his shoulders. His face finds your now bare dripping core and he licks a stripe through your slick folds. You moan in unison, you at the feeling, and him at your intoxicating taste. He starts to tongue fuck you as deep as he can, swirling his tongue around inside your walls, collecting your nector on his tongue.

He plunges his tongue into you a few more times, savoring your taste, before dragging it up to circle your clit. The minute he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud an orgasm rips through your body. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his head and your hips raise off the bed. Eddie uses one of his hands to hold you down by the hips while two of his thick fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting them inside you. He continues to suck on your clit and you don’t even have time to come down from your first orgasm before another one is being ripped from you. Feral moans leave your lips as you rock your hips against him.

“FUCK EDDIE! Shit! Is too much, too much, sensitive.” You whine, pushing your hands against his head. He growls, his tongue licking every inch of your slick covered core before finally pulling away.

“Sorry baby, you just taste so fucking good, and those little moans are my new favorite song. Shit.” He sits up, his stubble covered chin is coated in your slick and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You’d let him if he asked. He kisses his way up your torso, stopping to pay your tits and scent gland a little extra attention. When his lips meet your own they taste like you and him combined and you whine into his mouth.

“Eddie, please? Please fuck me? I need to feel you please please please.” You’re begging even though you know he’s going to give you what you want, but all you can think about is him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with his knot and his cum, making all the pain go away.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. Your alpha is gonna make it all go away, okay? Gonna take care of you little omega.” Your alpha, you like the sound of that.

“You’re wearing too much, take it off.” You whine, pulling at the hem of his shirt. The materials of his clothes feel suffocating against your already hot skin, and you want to feel him. He obliges, standing up to pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roam his figure, your tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip at the sight of his ink covered muscular form. He kicks off his shoes and his hands make quick work of his belt, he undoes his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, slapping against his bare stomach and a bit of drool actually dribbles down your chin. He’s perfect. Every inch of him.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re beautiful.”

“Coming from you, sugar? That’s a high honor.” He smirks, leaning over you. He takes your chin in his hand, using the grip to place a bruising kiss on your lips. He uses one hand to prop himself up on the bed while he grabs onto his thick cock in the other, running it through your folds. He taps it against your clit a few times, the combination of your slick and his precum causing it to make a sticky wet sound.

He pushes the tip of his cock into your entrance, pulling it out and pushing it back in a few times. You wiggle your hips impatiently, trying to shove him deeper inside you. He finally takes the hint, shoving his cock halfway inside you before pulling it almost all the way out again. When he pushes into you again he doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against your ass.

“Oh my god, shit!” Your hands clutch onto his back, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.

“Oh fuuuuuck, your pussy is sucking me in baby. You feel so fucking good.” Almost too good, if he was being honest with himself. He’s fucked a few omegas, but never on their heat, and nobody has ever made him feel like this. It just felt so fucking right. All of it. Your scent, your touch, your kiss. It really was like you were made for him. And even though his mind was clouded with lust, as he snapped his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you over and over again it all started to make sense to him.

He had learned a little bit about soul bounds back in highschool and he knew a few people in his life that had them but they’re so rare nowadays he had never given them much thought. But the way his ears rang when he first saw you, the electric shockwave that went through the both of you when you shook hands, how he can smell you everywhere. The fact that you’re the first omega to truly smell good to him, and he’s the first alpha to smell good to you. It all clicks into place. You were his fated mate. You really were meant for him.

“Eddieeee, you feel so good, you’re filling me up so good, I’ve never - fuck - I’ve never felt like this before.” Your nails run down his back and your walls clench around his cock as another orgasm takes you by surprise, a rush of slick coating his cock and both of your thighs. He decides while you’re fucked out like this isn’t the time to tell you about his realization, he doesn’t think you know. He’s not even sure if they still educate kids on these kinds of bonds given their rarity.

“That’s a good girl sugar, taking me so well, you gonna let me fill this little pussy up?” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep and hard. His nose finds your scent gland and he sharply inhales. “God baby, you smell so good, my sweet little omega, my sugar.”

His tongue laves out over the juncture of your throat, his teeth lightly brushing over it. God it would be so easy to just sink his teeth into your neck and mark you as his for the rest of your lives. He can tell you want him to, by the way you turn your head to bare your neck to him.

“Do it, I want it.” It’s like you read his mind.

“Baby, no. Not right now, if you still want it when you’re more clear headed we can talk about it, okay?” It was taking everything in him not to do what you were asking, he was fighting against every single instinct in his body.

“Eddie, I don't think I’ve ever thought more clearly about anything in my entire life, please? I want to be yours.” You mean it. You’ve thought about it before now, laid in bed at night as you listen to him strum his guitar. You’ve thought about more than just fucking him, you’ve fantasized about a life with him. Even if you barely knew him, you knew you wanted him.

His thrusts falter at that, he doesn’t know how long he can resist your begging. Especially when you’re begging for this. He doesn’t respond, just starts fucking you harder. His thumb finds your clit and he starts to circle it in time with his thrusts. His lips latch onto your neck and suck, if he can’t give you what you truly want right now, he hopes you’ll at least take this temporary mark. “Please alpha? Please just do it? I want it so bad, want your mark. Want your knot.”

“I know sugar, I know.” He mumbles against your neck before latching back onto it, continuing to suck bruising marks into your skin. “Why don’t you cum for me? Cum for your alpha.”

He angles his hips so the head of his cock is brushing against your sweet spot, picking up the speed of the circles on your clit. He runs his teeth along your throat, not quite biting down but nipping at it. It’s all so good, and it sends you hurtling into another mind altering orgasm.

“Oh fuck! Ohmyfuckinggod, Eddie! I’m cumming!” You wrap your legs around his waist, more slick gushes from you and your nails are digging so deep into his back he’s sure you’re starting to draw blood. He hopes you leave him some little marks of his own. He wouldn’t mind, if you bit down on his neck too. He knows it’s taboo for omegas to mark alphas but he wants to be connected to you, owned by you, in every way possible.

“That’s a good girl, good fucking girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you cum on my cock.” His hands grasp onto your hips and he leans up onto his knees as he continues to fuck into you. Your hands clutch onto his forearms and your tits bounce deliciously with every thrust.

“Want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum, put a pup inside me.” You’re cock drunk off your ass, your eyes rolled back and brimmed with tears, drool dripping from your mouth and your words are slurred as you babble things you’d never dream of saying in a normal state of mind. But Eddie hears you loud and clear, and he knows you probably don’t really mean that. But hearing it? It makes him feral.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck a baby into you, is that it? Want me to mark you and knot you and plug you full of my cum?”

“Yes! Fuck! Please fill me up, let me give you a baby, alpha!!” Eddie lets out an animalistic growl, a few more harsh thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. He shoves his hips flush against yours as ropes of his cum paint your walls.

“Oh fuuuuckkk, oh my god, shit.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vice grip, the feeling of him filling you up sending you over the edge with him. You milk him for all he’s worth, the head of his cock starts to flare and you whimper when his knot pops inside of you. “Jesus Christ.”

You both pant as he grabs onto your thighs so he can flip over with you on top of him. You lay your head on his chest and nuzzle into it, feeling safe and warm, and for the moment satisfied. You’re both quiet for a while, catching your breath and coming down from your highs.

“Eddie I-“

“Hey.” He shushes you, comfortingly running his hand down your back. “It’s okay, don’t stress, alright sugar? We can talk about all of this once you’re more clear headed. Let’s just relax for now.”

“Will you… stay?” Your voice is small, but hopeful.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere darlin’, we are kind of connected right now.” He chuckles and it makes you laugh. “Even longer if you keep laughing like that, clenching around me and shit.”

“Sorry.” You giggle. “Will you stay… till it’s over?” You really hope he knows what you mean, because you already feel awkward enough asking as it is.

“You want me to stay with you through your heat?” His heart rate picks up, and the alpha in him sings with pride. He really hopes that’s what’s you’re asking.

“Yeah, only if you want, no pressure or anything I-“

“Baby, I’d be honored.” His hand cups your face, tilting it towards him so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles at you sweetly, his mate. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, which you return with glee. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Would it be crazy if you said you wanted him to stay forever? Probably. Maybe not, since you were just begging him to mark you and knock you up a few minutes ago. You decide against it though, laying your head back on his chest. You shove your nose into his scent gland, inhaling him. You’ve never felt this safe with an alpha, or anyone who wasn’t your family, really. You could get used to this. You only hoped he would still want to be around you when your heat was over.

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Eddie kept true to his word, staying with you through your heat for a full week. He only left once, on the second day to go to the store for some groceries and to get things from his apartment for himself. It was a good thing he did because later that night he went into his rut and it just made the entire experience more intimate and feral. He fucked you more times and in more ways than you could count. But you didn’t just have sex, you also spent a lot of time talking, and getting to know each other.

He told you about his time growing up here, and how it wasn’t the best for him. You found out that he’s a tattoo artist, and he rides and works on motorcycles. He used to be in a band when he was younger, they still jam together sometimes but they don’t play bar shows anymore. He’s never had an omega before, not even an unofficial mate, and he explained to you that it’s because he’s never felt connected to anyone until he met you. You told him it was about the same for you. When you first presented your boyfriend at the time was an alpha and he smelled awful to you the minute his pheromones hit your nose, so you ended up breaking it off.

The morning you both woke up feeling like yourselves again you were both a bit timid. You still had another day off but he had clients today. He left to get ready for work, departing with a kiss and a promise to talk later tonight. You were hopeful. For the first time in a very long time, or maybe ever, you felt truly connected to someone.

Since you had the day off you decided you’d go visit your dad at work, you haven’t seen him since you took him those chocolate cupcakes last week and you figured you’d surprise him. He was the reason you moved here after all. He helped you open the bakery. You and him have always been close, your mom wasn’t really around when you were growing up so it was just you and him. He lived in Hawkins but he owned a tattoo shop in the next town over, only about a thirty five minute drive if there wasn’t traffic.

You went for a more simple look today, flare leggings and a cropped zip up with your doc martens. Perfect for the mid September Indiana weather. The drive went smoothly, you’ve been to your dads shop a few times, years ago when you were in your early 20s. But you haven’t seen it in a long time, usually when you visit him you just go to his house.

You push open the art covered door to the shop, the bell on the handle hits against the glass on the door and Tami, your dads wife, greets you with a surprised smile from behind the front desk.

“Well look what the cat dragged in, to what do we owe the pleasure, little lady?” You’ve always liked Tami, she and your dad got married when you were nineteen, after you had already moved out. But she was like the cool cigarette mom you never had growing up. She was probably Eddie’s age or a little younger, your dad was in his mid fifties. But she was beautiful, she looked like she stepped right out of an 80s rock music video. With her teased blonde hair and blue eyeshadow, her body adorned with almost as many tats as your dads.

“I had the day off, just figured I’d come say hey.” Your smile falters for a moment when you catch a strong whiff of Eddie’s scent, you didn’t think it would still be so strong after you showered. You knew your dad was going to ask questions, especially with the crime scene you had on your neck that you didn’t bother to cover up. You weren’t ashamed of them, you wanted people to know you were taken.

“Hey Tami do you have the reference photo for my five o'clock? I need to start drawing it up.” Your eyes shot in the direction of his voice, your heart rate immediately picking up. Okay so, you had definitely caught his scent, and it wasn’t on you. Why was he here? Oh god. He works for your fucking dad? Shit. Why didn’t you think of that? The motorcycles, tattoos, it all makes sense now. Your dad has told you about Eddie, you just didn’t think it was going to be this Eddie.

He smells you before he sees you, for a second he thought it was just your scent lingering on him like it has been for weeks now but then he saw you. He wasn’t mad you were here, just surprised. He was about to ask you how you knew where he worked when your dad came bounding out the back.

“Honey! What’re you doing here? Did you bring sweets?” Eddie has never seen your dad smile like that at anyone besides Tami, was he cheating on Tami? Did they have a side piece he didn’t know about?

“Hey dad, yeah I uh - I brought you some cookies!” Dad!? Holy fuck. That’s when your name goes off like an alarm in Eddie’s head, he didn’t think to make that connection until now. He’s seen pictures of you as a kid, and even a few of you as a teenager but you looked so different now he never would’ve recognized you from those. You were Dale’s fucking daughter? Jesus Christ. He was so fucking fucked.

“You’re too good to me, the best daughter ever, I swear.” Your dad walks over to you and engulfs you in a hug, taking the container filled with cookies from your hands when he pulls away. “Although, what’s going on with this crime scene on your neck? You have a little boyfriend here already?”

“Ha! Thanks dad, you’re the best too. Its uh - there’s not really a label on it yet or anything, if there’s anything to tell, I’ll let you know.” You smile at him, clearing your throat. You avoid making eye contact with Eddie, knowing you’ll probably lose your cool if you do. Especially when your dad is talking about what he did to your neck. You’re trying really hard to keep calm but you’re practically screaming on the inside. Eddie worked for your dad, and had for almost a decade now. He’s told you about Eddie, they’re close friends, and your dad was his tattoo mentor. He probably wouldn’t want to see you now. You felt like your heart was breaking already. You were definitely going to have to find a new apartment.

“Angel, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter.” Your dad says your name so proudly it makes you internally cringe. You fucked his friend. Not just fucked, you spent your heat and his rut with him. You asked him to mark you, he knotted you, and if you were being honest? You hadn’t been clear headed enough to think about it until today but you weren’t on birth control.

“We know each other actually!” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to burst out of his head, and he coughs, choking on his spit. “He’s my neighbor! You’d know that if you came to see my place already, dad.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to start up your usual banter, hoping you’re pulling it off.

“Oh, yeah! She moved into Chris’ old place, she baked for me and I helped her with her shower. You raised a good one, Dale.” Eddie smiles at his old friend, his heart feeling like it was going to fall out of his ass. He knew how protective your dad was of you, he remembers how he used to talk shit about your old beta boyfriend. Not only that but Dale was one of the big alphas in the area, if he casted Eddie out, everyone would.

“Aww! Good man Ed, thanks for helping my girl out. And you! How’s the bakery? Things good?” Your dad takes a large bite of one of the cookies, his other hand lovingly shaking your shoulder.

“It’s good, yeah, things are good. You were right about putting it close to the highschool, tons of kids come in on their lunches and even some teachers too. I’m working on perfecting this new pie recipe right now, I’ll have to bring you a few different slices to try out.”

“Well duh, I’m always right, and I swear you’re trying to fatten me up.” Your dad laughs his signature laugh, it’s deep, bellowy, and contagious. You loved him so much. But that didn’t change how you felt about Eddie, if he still wanted to see you, you wouldn’t turn him down.

You made small talk with your dad and Tami for a bit longer, Eddie had excused himself to the back and it honestly made you want to cry right then and there. You wish your dad and step mom a goodbye without seeing him again and walk out of the shop with a heavy heart. You drive home on autopilot, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

When you get home you flop yourself down on the couch in defeat. You would finally meet a guy and he’d end up being one of your dads oldest friends. Would he ever even talk to you again? He probably regretted the entire thing. But if you could go back in time, you’d do it all again.

A few minutes into your wallowing your phone goes off and when Eddie’s name pops up on that tiny front screen you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“I’ll come see you after work so we can talk, hope you’re okay.”

You let out a deep breath, at least he was talking to you, right? That text he sent you this morning about already missing you sitting above the new one was like a slap in the face in comparison. Hours ago he was texting you “Miss you already, can’t wait to see you tonight, sugar. Have a good day ;)” and now it seemed like he was about to tell you he couldn’t see you anymore. You had around three hours until Eddie would be home from work, and you have no idea what to do with yourself. You wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear if you were being honest. So you did the next best thing, you took a nap.

The sound of banging on your door had you shooting straight up in bed. When you look around it’s already dark out and when you gaze at the clock on your nightstand you realize it’s already past six thirty. Had you napped that long?

“Sweetheart, I know you’re home, I saw your car outside. Can we please just talk?” Shit. You throw your covers off and dash out of your room to the front door. You open it to reveal a very distressed looking Eddie and it cracks your heart a little.

“Hi Eddie…”

“Hey, can we talk?” The look on his face is hard to read, you can’t gauge how he’s feeling at all and it only peaks your anxiety.

“Yeah, sure.” You step aside to let him in and take a seat on the far end of the couch. You try not to take it personally when he sits all the way across from you but it stings just a little.

“So uh - your dad is… my boss.” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly while his knee bounces up and down. His eyes search your face and he can tell you’re upset. Not just by that but from your scent too. He can smell how anxious you are and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“Ha! That’s putting it lightly, Eddie…” You laugh dryly.

“Yeah, so, he’s one of my closest friends, the alpha of my pack, annnnd I kind of owe him everything for giving me a chance at the shop.” Eddie sighs, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Yeah I know, I knew he had a friend named Eddie, I just didn’t know it would be you. So I get it, if you don’t want to see me anymore. It’s not like we are actually anything to each other anyways, just because you spent my heat with me doesn’t mean you owe me anything. I can find a new apartment and I won’t come into the shop anymore it’ll be fine I can-“

“That’s the problem though, I can’t stay away from you, sweetheart.” He looks you straight in the eye as he says it, and his voice sounds so sure.

“What do you mean? Eddie, you hardly know me, it’s really okay, I wouldn’t want you to risk everything for me.” You sigh, your head falling between your shoulders. “If my dad knew, he would lose it. I know that, and you know that. I don’t want you to lose your job, or be an outcast.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want those things either. But, that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stay away from you. Darlin’, do you know what soul bounds are?”

“Oh.” He watches your eyes widen and your jaw drop open in realization.

“Yeah, I think we uh - I think we might have one. So when I say I can’t stay away from you, I mean it’ll fucking kill me to.” The look on Eddie’s face has you on the brink of tears, you want to throw yourself into his arms and rub your face all along his scent gland to comfort him.

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. It kind of feels like my whole entire life since I presented makes sense, now that I think about it.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for years. You never thought you’d find a mate, but here he was, made just for you. “Well, my dad can’t really do shit then. He can’t keep us apart, and if he tries to do anything to you I’ll tell him that I’m going with you wherever you go.”

“Sweetheart.” He takes your hands in his and a feeling of relief instantly washes over you. “I can’t ask you to do that… I know how close you and your dad are from the way he talks about you.”

“Okay, well you didn’t ask me to, I want to. I never thought I’d find a mate, I genuinely thought there was something wrong with me because of my scent. But now, I find you? My soulmate? I can’t lose you Eddie.” You squeeze his hands and run your thumbs over the backs of them reassuringly.

“I feel the same, I spent my whole life being an outcast, and then when I presented as an alpha I thought maybe I’d finally get some form of respect. But instead every single person that was supposed to be biologically attracted to me told me there was something ‘off’ about my scent. Not that they necessarily smelled good to me either, but it was still a blow to my ego. But then you show up? This sweet little thing bringing me a pie in her tiny little dress? You’ve made me feel more wanted in a few weeks than I have my entire life.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at his speech, you can’t believe hours ago you thought you were disposable to him. You grab his face in your hands, kissing him with fever. He groans into your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he returns your kiss with equal enthusiasm. He pulls you into his lap and you kiss each other until you both feel like your lungs are going to burst and you have to pull away for air.

“Can we maybe wait a bit, to tell my dad? I just want to enjoy this for a bit, before shit hits the fan.” You rest your forehead against his, your hands still holding his face tenderly.

“Absolutely, I think I’d like to live a little longer.” Eddie chuckles and you laugh along with him.

“Shut up! I’m not going to let him kill you, I swear. I’ll be like, your knight in shining armor.”

“Oh yeah? Sugars going spicy on me? Is that it?” He nuzzles his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, jaw, and then down your scent gland. He inhales before placing a gentle kiss there.

“Oh, you have noooo idea.” He tickles your sides and you laugh, wiggling around in his lap.

“Hmm, I think I wanna find out, you wanna show me this spicy side?” He kisses your neck again, gently nipping at it.

“Absolutely. Think you can take the heat?” You lean back and wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Ooohh you’re in for it now!!” He laughs, tackling you down on the couch. Sending you both into a fit of giggles.

He climbs on top of you, his arms bracketing either side of your head, his hair like a halo around his head with the way your lamp light was glowing behind him.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You smile up at him sweetly, he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of hearing you say that.

“Yeah? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He sends you a wink that has butterflies fluttering in your belly. The flutters quickly turn into an eruption when he connects his lips with yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan at the taste of him. The kisses turn heated when you roll your hips up against his, a low groan rumbling through him.

“I want you, Eddie.” You mumble against his mouth, your tongue darting out to lick across his plump, kiss swollen bottom lip.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He places another hungry kiss on your lips before littering open mouth kisses along your jaw and throat. He laves his tongue out along your collar bones, kissing down your chest. He mouths at your nipples through the thin material of your tank top, swirling his tongue around them until they are both peaked. He grabs the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. “Perfect tits. Perfect body. Perfect little omega.”

“Mmm, just for you, alpha, all for you.” Your hands greedily pull at the hem of his faded band tee and he obliges you, using one hand to pull it over his head. “Wanna taste you, alpha, can I?”

“If you keep looking at me like that? Sugar, I’ll give you anything you want.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

You look up at him with big round eyes as you moan at the taste of him. He stands in front of the couch and you push yourself up onto your knees, perfectly eye level with the very prominent bulge in his pants. You make quick work of his belt, undoing his pants so you can push them down over his hips with his boxers. His cock springs free, a bead of pearly white precum drips from his slit and you can’t resist leaning forward to lick it off.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Baby. Chills run through his entire body. You’ve never called him that before, and it was doing things to him he didn’t think were possible.

You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around it like you did with his thumb. You take him all the way in your mouth, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. Drool fills your mouth and you pull off to him to spit into your palm without breaking eye contact with him. You bring your hand to his shaft, jerking him off with your lubed up palm a few times before taking half of him in your mouth again. Your mouth works in tandem with your hand at the base of his cock, your tongue caressing that thick vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft.

“Oh fuuuuck.” Eddie throws his head back, his thick neck adorned with veins, his Adam’s Apple bobs as he groans at the feeling of you swallowing him down. “That’s so good, your mouth is so good.”

His fingers thread through your hair and he looks back down at you. He has to close his eyes again seconds later to keep himself from exploding down your throat right then and there. Your eyes were rimmed with tears, your mascara that was already smudged from your nap running down your cheeks, drool was dripping down the sides of your mouth and the way you were looking at him like he hung the stars with his dick down your throat made him insane. You move your hand so you can take him all the way in your mouth again. Your throat flexes around him when you gag and he has to use his grip on your hair to pull you off. You whine, trying to take him back into your mouth.

“Baby girl, I’m sorry, but you gotta stop or I’m going to fucking lose it, and I really want to fill you with my cum and just keep fucking you until your body is limp.” He grabs your chin in his hand, his thumb spreading the drool on your mouth all around your lips. “Turn around, all fours.”

You position yourself on your hands and knees on top of the couch cushions, arching your back and wiggling your ass in the air. Eddie groans at the sight, walking up behind you, he hooks his fingers in the band of your tiny sleep shorts, pulling them down with your panties where they pool at the bottom of your bent knees. His hands roughly grab onto your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can see your messy cunt. You clench around nothing and a little yelp escapes you when you feel his spit drip down onto your already wet cunt.

“Fuuuuck Eddie, please, touch me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m always going to give you what you want, sweet thing.” He runs his fingers through your slit, gathering your wetness and rubbing it around. He circles your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers circle your entrance and push inside you. He curves them just right, rubbing them against that sweet spot inside you before he starts to thrust them in and out of you.

“Oh shit! Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, fuck.” His thumb finds your clit while he continues to fuck his fingers into you and you’re already embarrassingly close to cumming.

“You gonna cum already, baby? I can feel your pussy sucking my fingers in.” He curves his fingers against your g-spot again and it’s the final straw. A feral moan rips through you and your pussy spasms around his fingers. “Oh that’s it, good girl, cum for me, cum for your alpha.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth, moaning at your sweet taste. You hear him kicking off his jeans the rest of the way before the couch dips behind you. He positions himself on his knees, taking his cock in his hand. He runs it through your wet lips, the tip of it bumping against your clit with each stroke.

“Baby, don’t tease me.” You whine, pushing your hips back against him. “Need your cock.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside with one thrust. You’re so wet the stretch barely burns, almost immediately turning into immense pleasure. He doesn’t waste any time starting up at a brutal pace. His hips slap against your ass, his balls bumping your clit whenever he thrusts at a certain angle.

“Fuck, this pussy really was fucking made for me. She’s sucking me in like a vice grip.” His hand pushes down on your lower back and you take the hint, resting your cheek on the couch cushion so your back is arched further, your ass as far in the air as it can go. This new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his hand snakes around your front to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge again.

“Oh god - oh fuck, Eddie!!!” Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, you push your hips back against him, fucking him deeper into you as you ride out your high.

He wraps his forearm around the front of your shoulders, using his grip to pull your back flush against his chest. He’s deeper than ever before, practically abusing your g-spot in the best way. The slight pressure on your throat from the way his arm is pinning you to his body is delicious, and when his fingers resume their ministrations on your clit it already has you close to the edge again. His mouth latches onto your scent gland, sucking a bruise into it.

“Mark me alpha, please please, I want to be yours. Please do it, I want it so bad.” Your hands reach behind you, lacing your fingers in his curls. You arch your back so you can bare your neck to him. Eddie thinks about telling you no again, he considers telling you he’d like to wait until you tell your dad.

But the primal part of him quickly erases those thoughts. He wants to please you, in every way possible. He wants to claim you. He doesn’t want to tell you no. So he doesn’t. He runs his nose along your scent gland, inhaling your otherworldly scent. He runs his teeth along the juncture of your throat before sinking them into your soft flesh.

The feeling sends you both over the edge. His teeth are still clamped down on your neck. Your cunt is squeezing him tight while ropes of his cum spill inside you. Everything felt so right, and it wasn’t just the fact that it was the best orgasm of your life. Your entire body felt warm, your heart felt full, you felt so connected to Eddie. It was everything. His knot swells inside you, popping out to connect you in every way possible. He pulls away from your neck, soothing the bloody teeth marks with his warm tongue.

“Wow.” He breaths out, carefully leaning back towards the arm of the couch and pulling you with him. He circles his arms around you, caging you in his embrace.

“Yeah, wow is right.” You chuckle, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He runs his hands through your hair, down your chest, his fingers stop to trace the bloodied mark on your throat. “Are you okay with everything?”

“I’m fantastic. I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment, Eddie Munson. If you’re lucky, I’m lucky as hell. I’m glad it’s you, I’m glad you’re my mate.” You tilt your head to the side so you can look up at him.

“Me too, Sugar, me too.” He looks down at your adoringly, taking your face in his hand and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

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You’ve been seeing Eddie in mostly secret for the last few months. You told your best friend back home over the phone and he told his friends Steve and Robin. Things were fantastic, for the most part. He’s taken you on a few dates, either out of town or somewhere people wouldn’t see you. He made you happier than you’ve ever been in your entire life but sneaking around was getting old fast.

Eddie was for lack of better words, paranoid. You’ve spent every night together since he mated you. Either at his place or at your own. But every morning after he showered for work he would put clothes on directly from the dryer, then immediately douse himself with cologne. He always kisses you before his shower because he refuses to come within three feet of you afterwards. He was absolutely terrified of showing up to your dad’s shop for work smelling like his daughter that he was seeing in secret. After a few weeks of that you both decided it was easier if you went your separate ways when you woke up and did your morning routines on your own. Which you hated, you loved the domesticity of waking up and going about your morning with him.

You also hadn’t seen your dad since the day Eddie mated you, always making up excuses when he invited you for dinner or asked to come see your place finally. You lucked out on your day off when he decided to come into the bakery for a surprise visit. You hated it, if you were being honest. You’ve never hid anything from him, especially not something this big. He was a pretty laid back parent when you were growing up, so you never really felt the need to lie to him.

It was Sunday evening, you and Eddie both had the day off so he took you out on his bike. He drove a few towns over to take you to this vintage book store he thought you’d like, he showed you the oldest cemetery in Indiana, which you adored, and then he took you out to lunch.

When you got back to his apartment you wanted to show him how grateful you really were for how thoughtful the dates he took you on always were. You rode him till he came and his knot was buried deep inside you, then you just kept riding him until he came again. You both dozed off cozy in each other's arms not long after that.

You wake up before Eddie, feeling sick to your stomach. You climb out of bed, carefully untangling yourself from him so you don’t wake him up and throw on one of his shirts and your panties from earlier so you can go into the kitchen for a glass of water. You chug it greedily, trying to will the nausea away. You might have one other, not so little secret. Last week you were at the bakery running numbers and planning for the weeks ahead when the calendar on the wall caught your eye. You started doing some math in your head and immediately told your employee Brooke that you needed to run to the store. You bought three different pregnancy tests and every single one screamed back at you with two lines, pregnant, or a little pink plus sign.

You hadn’t told Eddie yet, and you were surprised he hadn’t realized it since omegas scents usually change when they’re pregnant. Either he hadn’t noticed, or he was waiting for you to tell him on your own terms. If he hadn’t though? It was only a matter of time before he did. You had no idea how he would react, sure things were said in the heat of the moment during sex but you and him have never actually talked about having kids. That, and he was already afraid to tell your dad that you were mates, now you were going to have to tell him you were knocked up with his best friend’s kid too. Despite all that, you want this baby, you want a life and a family with Eddie. He would be a good dad, kind, goofy, attentive. Would your baby have his eyes? His hair? The sound of a knock on the door rips you from your daydreams.

Who the hell was here? You weren’t expecting anyone. Should you wake Eddie? It’s his door, after all.

“Hey Ed, you home? Wanted to talk to you about something!” The sound of your dads voice makes your blood run cold. Shit. You dash down the hall towards Eddie’s room where he’s stumbling out of the doorway while slipping on gray sweatpants. He already has a tee shirt on and his eyes meet yours in a panic.

“It’s my fucking dad, does he fucking know?” You whisper-yell at him. Eddie shrugs at you with panicked eyes.

“Go in the room, in case it’s about something else, maybe I can get him to leave.” He grabs your shoulders, directing you towards the room. You go inside, shutting the door behind you. You feel like a fucking teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend instead of a grown ass woman with her mate, and you hated it. You almost want to just go open the door yourself and get it over with.

Eddie knows damn well that if your dad is here for a different reason, it won’t make a difference. His place definitely smells like you, there’s absolutely no way it doesn’t. He takes a deep breath before pulling the door open.

“Hey Dale, what’s up man?” Eddie feels like he’s going to shit his pants, your dad is taller than him by a few inches but bigger than him in mass by a lot. He could absolutely kick his ass if he wanted to. He also really didn’t want to disappoint him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tired of sneaking around.

“Hey brother, you got a minute to talk? I wanted to run something by you.” Oh fuck, does he fucking know? Is he playing it cool and any second he’s going to choke Eddie to death?

“Yeah, sure man. What’s up?”

“You gonna let me in?” The older man chuckles, raising an eyebrow at his younger mentee.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, come in.” Eddie steps aside to let him in and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. This was it, this is where he dies.

“Whoa! It fucking reeks in here, you got an omega you’re keeping a secret, Ed?” You hear your dad chuckle through the door and internally cringe.

“Uh - I mean - “

“Hold on…” Your dad audibly sniffs the air and Eddie watches his expression harden, his eyebrows furrow and the look in his eyes is the one Eddie has been terrified of. He looks like he wants to kill him. “Eddie… What the fuck is going on here man? Why the hell does your apartment reek like my daughter?”

You take that as your queue to enter, pulling Eddie’s door open and walking out to face the music.

“Hey dad…” You wave awkwardly, trying to use your other hand to make the shirt you’re wearing longer, suddenly very aware of your lack of pants.

Your dad takes in your appearance. Your disheveled hair, Eddie’s shirt, the mark on your neck. His nostrils flare and a growl rips through him. He darts at Eddie, grabbing him by the collar of his tee shirt and shoving him against the nearest wall. A stack of empty mixing bowls knock off the counter in the commotion and your dad shoves his forearm against Eddie’s throat.

“I can’t fucking believe you!! After all I’ve done for you!?” His voice drops to an authoritative alpha tone and growls continue to rumble in his chest. You’ve never seen your dad this pissed before.

“Dale, I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean for this to happen! It’s not what you’re thinking if you just let me explain-“

“EXPLAIN!? Explain how you mated my only child!? I don’t think there’s much to explain here, Ed! It’s pretty fucking clear what happened here!!!” Your dad bellows, shoving his arm tighter against Eddie’s throat, causing him to gasp.

“Dad!!! Fucking stop!!!” You run over and grab onto your dads forearm to try and rip it off of Eddie. To no avail, he was strong as hell. “It’s not his fault! We couldn’t help it! He’s my mate! We have a bond! You can’t hurt him without hurting me! He’s mine! Get the fuck off of him!!”

“A bond? What? Like a trauma bond? Because this situation is fucked.” Your dad turns his head to look at you, his lips set to a snarl, his arm still locking Eddie in place.

“No, a soul bound, dumb ass! He’s my mate, my fated mate! Get the fuck off of him!!!” A growl of your own rumbles through your chest, your hands trying and failing yet again to pull your dad from your alpha.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve come to me like a man and told me the minute he found out! You’re a fucking coward and you don’t deserve someone like my daughter!” He was clearly irrational, his scent nearly suffocating you with how thickly it was permeating the air.

“IM PREGNANT!!!” Two pairs of wide eyes snap toward you, Eddie’s mouth is dropped open in shock, your dad looks like he’s going to puke.

“YOU’RE WHAT!?” Your dad shouts, his grip on Eddie subconsciously loosens and he takes the opportunity to slip free from his grasp. He rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands.

“Are you really? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?”

“I was going to, I was just - I was nervous about how you’d react.” You avert your gaze from his, afraid to look him in the eyes when you hear his response.

“Hey.” His hands thumbs run across the apples of your cheeks and he lowers his face so you're forced to make eye contact with him. “If you ever thought I’d be anything less than stoked to have a baby with you, you’re crazy.”

“Really?” Your eyes well with tears and your bottom lip trembles. As your dad watches this entire exchange his face starts to soften. He looks between you and Eddie, taking in the way you look at each other and your body language. He also doesn’t miss the way that the panic in your scent is now nonexistent.

“Of course, Sugar. I want everything with you, I love you.”

“I - I love you too, Eddie.” The tears that were threatening to escape before are now cascading down your cheeks. He uses his thumbs to wipe them away, placing a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Dale.” Eddie turns towards your dad, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I love your daughter, and I know it’s not ideal, but she’s my mate, my fated mate, and the mother of my child. You can fire me, cast me out, do your absolute worst. But I won’t leave their side unless I’m dead and gone.”

“If you cast Eddie out, I’m going with him.” You nuzzle into your alphas side, putting your hand on his chest.

“Hold on now, nobody’s casting anybody out, or firing anybody. I’m sorry for ya know, kinda choking you out there, Ed. This was just… a shock.”

“I know dad.” You step away from Eddie to rest a hand on your dads shoulder. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you right away, but that was on me, not Eddie. I told him I wanted to wait to tell you, and it’s not like we planned this. We didn’t even realize you knew each other until that day I came into the shop.”

“He still should’ve told me, or you should’ve. I know I’m protective of you but if you told me all of this, yeah I would’ve been mad, but I would’ve heard you out. It’s not so bad, now that I think about it. You guys make a lot of sense actually.” Your dads hand comes to rest on top of yours on his shoulder. “I always wanted you to find a good man, and I know Eddie is a good man. I know he will take care of you. Plus, I’ve never seen him like this, I’m uh - I’m happy for you guys.”

“And notttt to call you out or anything dad, but Tami is like 12 years younger than you and you met her when she was in her 20s, just saying.” You roll your eyes and playfully squeeze his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it, I reacted poorly. So… I’m gonna be a pop pop?” Your dads now tear brimmed eyes search yours.

“Yeah dad, you’re gonna be a pop pop.” Tears flow from your eyes and he pulls you into one of his signature bear hugs. You sob into his chest, finally feeling whole again. You really missed him. “I hated lying to you, I’m sorry.”

“Hey honey, what’s done is done, we’re okay now, alright?” He rubs your back lovingly, pushing you back so he can look at your face. “I’m happy for you. Come here, Ed, get your dumb ass over here.”

Eddie chuckles, wiping a tear from underneath his eye, your dad pulls him into a hug, that he happily returns.

“You gonna take good care of my girl?” Your dad pulls back, one hand gripping Eddie’s shoulder, the other pointed at his chest. A joking glare set on his features.

“Yeah Dale, I’m gonna do everything I can for the rest of my life to make sure that woman, and our child are safe and happy.” That only makes you cry more, which has Eddie rushing to your side to take him into his arms.

“Okay, I came here to talk to you about some work shit but that can wait, I’ll leave you two to talk and celebrate amongst yourselves.” Your dad walks over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin, in everything you do. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Yeah dad, of course not, never. You’re going to be the best pop pop, you know that?”

“Alright, alright, stop making me cry. I love you.” He ruffles your hair, turning to Eddie. “Have a good night, Ed. I’ll see ya at work tomorrow, congratulations.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As soon as your dad shuts the door behind him Eddie is taking you in his arms, spinning you around.

“Whoa, Eddie, motion sickness.” You giggle and he sets you gently back down on your feet.

“We’re really having a baby?” His chocolate eyes shine as his hands come to rest on your abdomen, staring at it adoringly.

“Yeah, we’re really having a baby.” The tears that you can’t seem to get to stop stream down your cheeks and you rest your hands on top of his.

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather start a family with, I love you, sugar.” Eddie rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your noses together.

“Me either, I love you so much, baby.” One of Eddie’s hands laces through your hair while the other cups your neck, his thumb caressing the mark he left there all those weeks ago. He connects his lips with yours and everything in the world just feels right.

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @corkadymu @ali-r3n @nailbatanddungeon @emxxblog @reysorigins @rogerfxckingtaylor @hellv1ra @munson-mjstan @harrydesires @tlclick73 @your-nightmaredoll @gnrquinn @hellfire--cult @meadowdovewood @katethetank @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @ghostducky @nega-omega @ericasdumbworld @peaches-roses-sins (if you asked to be tagged and you arent it wouldn’t let me tag you for some reason)🖤

[pikp0kcas3]

The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

[astraystayyh]

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[er-osion]

Small Things They Love About You

pairing: [separate] bruce wayne x gn!reader, dick grayson x gn!reader, jason todd x gn!reader, tim drake x gn!reader

summary: headcanons about the batboy’s lesser talked about favorite thing about you.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: none, fluff

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

Bruce Wayne — your routines

Bruce Wayne loves seeing you complete your routines throughout the day. From your morning, to night, to mealtime routines, Bruce loves seeing you go through them. There’s something about watching the familiarity of it that makes Bruce feel all warm and happy. His own routines are often interrupted because of his night job but seeing you go through your own gives him that sense of normalcy he’s always secretly craving. He’s happy watching you go through these little habits without thought, it brings him into the present and really helps him focus on just living in the moment with you, the love of his life.

His joy overflows though, when you bring him into your routines. He didn’t notice at first, but suddenly he caught on to how he’s been roped into your morning routine and mealtime routines. When he did finally notice, his heart fluttered in his chest for minutes and an actual smile creeped into his face. Living in one of your routines with you proved to him that you were truly in his life for good, you weren’t going anywhere, and that made him indescribably happy. These routines you have make him feel so domestic, it fills a space in his heart he forgets was empty until you go pouring your love into it. You’re not even trying, that’s the thing. You’re just going about your day like normal, but seeing these habits of yours play out makes Bruce have to fight the urge to wrap you in a tight embrace and never let go. Bruce Wayne just loves seeing you go through your everyday routines, he loves to see you simply existing in his life.

Dick Grayson — your smile

When Dick Grayson says he loves your smile, he doesn’t just mean the one basic smile you give when you’re happy, he means all of your different smiles. He loves your giddy smile, your smug smile, your surprised smile, your relieved smile, and even your sad smile. He loves the hundreds of different kinds of smiles that appear on your face because he loves each of those parts of you. He has all your different smiles memorized and categorized. Dick makes it his daily mission to get you to show off at least five different types of smiles through the course of your day. All of this honestly boils down to the fact that he likes seeing you happy, he likes seeing you content. Dick feels at peace if he knows his loved one is happy.

Dick gets this bubbly feeling in his stomach whenever he’s the cause of one of your smiles. It quite literally lights up his day to see your beautiful lips pull into a grin. Dick has an entire album on his phone that’s just photos of you smiling. The album is full of photos ranging from pictures of you smiling so wide you can tell your cheeks were hurting, to smiles that hold the weight of sadness and exhaustion, clearly taken after you’d gone through a stressful moment. Dick is fully convinced you glow when you smile. When patrols are especially hard, the thing that keeps him going is the thought of coming home to you and seeing that smile on your face you always wear when he comes back alive. Dick gets visibly disappointed if he thinks he failed at making you smile adequately that day. How is he supposed to be a hero if he can’t continuously bring a grin to his partner’s face? All in all, Dick Grayson swoons when you deliver any type of smile, it makes his world brighter to see you so full of light.

Jason Todd – your voice

Jason Todd loves loves loves the sound of your voice. It’s an orchestra crafted in heaven, a choir of angels in his ears. Whether you talk a lot or a little, Jason relishes any moment he gets to hear your voice. Hearing you speak visibly relaxes him in a way nothing else can. There is nothing more grounding and more comforting than the lovely sound of your voice. No matter the tone you take or the volume, Jason thirsts for your voice like a man trapped in the desert.

Because of this, one of Jason’s favorite activities with you, is reading. It’s become a habit for you to read to him for at least a few minutes everyday. Jason especially likes it when you read to him after patrol, it helps his mind wind down from the chaos that his work as Red Hood can create in his brain. Jason will rest his head on your shoulder and listen intently as you read to him. Your voice is like a gentle hug that makes his insides warm and mushy. Jason loves hearing you talk, he’d let you ramble about nothing for hours. When he comes home he always asks how your day was and he always hopes your answer is going to be long winded and detailed, because that means he gets to hear you talk for longer. When you speak, it feels like his spirit is being revived. Your melodic voice stitches together the torn pieces of his soul. Jason has every voicemail or audio message you’ve ever sent downloaded on his phone, so when you two are apart he can still listen to you talk. Whenever Jason is having a particularly rough day, or he just needs a pick-me-up, he listens to a few of those recordings and he immediately feels rejuvenated and happier. Jason Todd is plain and simply in love with the sound of your voice.

Tim Drake – your thought process

Timothy Drake is obsessed with hearing you explain yourself. Not in a weird way, he just likes hearing your thought process. Tim likes learning about the way you think, in his mind, that’s one of the most intimate things a person could do. When you explain your thoughts or ideas, Tim is over the moon. Tim could honestly sit for hours while you went through in over-the-top detail how you came to a conclusion for the problem you solved earlier that day. There’s just something about learning about the way your mind works that makes Tim feel really special. It feels like such a big demonstration of trust. Tim doesn’t have to fight to learn you, you let him do it for free. Tim makes it his job to learn the way you think, so he can adapt to routines that make you more comfortable.

The way your mind works is absolutely fascinating to Tim. When you take the time to explain your thoughts to him, he feels his heart rush with enthusiasm and enchantment. He truly marvels at the way you process things, it’s one of the most gorgeous things about you —in his opinion. Tim gets really giddy when you explain your thoughts to him, everything about it is just so you and it’s the most lovely thing in the world to him. Tim feels like he’s getting a glimpse of your soul every time you go through your thought process with him and he cherishes those moments like a relic. If Tim Drake could take something to the grave with him, it’d be the heavenly way you explain your thoughts.

[norrizzandpia]

I JUST READ You Were Never What I Wanted AND NOW I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY LIFE

IT WAS SO GOOD

IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART (if u decide to post it)

YOURE WRITING IS AMAZING <333

Yall ask and yall shall receive! Part 1 link if you need it <3

But I Need You Now (You Were Never What I Wanted, Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: In the aftermath of Lando and Y/n, Lando makes it his personal mission to show Y/n that it wasn’t fake. Their PR stunt might’ve started out as a lie, but it was love for him and he knows it was for her too.

Warnings: language, angsty, FLUFF AT THE END BITCHES AS AN APOLOGY FOR THE HELL I PUT YOU THROUGH WITH THESE TWO-PARTERS, sexual conversations

Note: see what I did with the title… 😏 You were never what I wanted, but I need you now 🤭 also i made this less angsty as an apology again 👹

Y/n goes home for a few days.

The news spreads throughout the paddock like a virus, being whispered in every person’s ear. When it gets back to Lando, he stands in the midst of the chaos in McLaren’s garage.

Jon leaves his hand on Lando’s shoulder in a comforting manner, knowing something happened between them, but not knowing the specific details.

“She left?” He says lowly, voice wavering as he tries to gain control of it.

Jon nods, “I’m afraid so.”

“What about the race?” He asks, hands clenching at his sides.

“She’s having the reserve driver take her place. You know that.” Jon gives him a confused look.

Lando shakes his head, “No, I get that, but how could she just give up on it?”

Jon sighs and Lando can tell his trainer doesn’t want to tell him the next bit of information. He does anyway, “I heard she was pretty distraught after that gala a week ago. Apparently, she was sobbing and the valet had to help her call a cab. She was a mess, I gather, no one knows why.”

I do, he thinks. I know why, Lando thinks.

Lando abandons the conversation, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl he loves.

She plagues his dreams, his nightmares, his delusions, his thoughts, he doesn’t need her to infiltrate his life anymore.

🏎️

“What’s the problem?” He asks an hour later when Jon treats him like he’s about to have a mental breakdown at any moment.

His trainer eyes him suspiciously, gently, “Nothing,”

Lando groans, arms flying out beside him before smacking down back at his sides, “Jon, cut the bullshit. You’ve been treating me like I’m a fucking baby all day. Why?”

Jon sighs, turning to look at him before grabbing his arm and pulling them out of the garage. Jon forces them into a random hallway always away from the commotion and publicity, looking at Lando softly, “What happened between you and Y/n?”

Suddenly, Lando’s defensive. The mention of her name makes his skin crawl and his heart clench, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You two were dating.”

Lando rolls his eyes, “We were not dating. We were a PR stunt. You know that, Jon.”

Jon stares him down, “You two were dating.”

The meaning of his words hits Lando, what Jon truly is trying to address. He’s drowning in the mistakes of his own actions and the love he developed for her, no way to explain his way out of the situation with Jon looking at him knowingly.

He folds his arms over his chest, “Maybe in the end.”

Jon’s face scrunches up in confusion, “In the end? Of course, you were. Did you sleep together?”

“Fuck, no!” Lando yelps, astonishment at Jon’s bluntness, a trait the man has never had when it came to his romantic relationships.

Jon shakes his head, confusion deepening, “Then how the fuck did you two end up where you are? How did you end up in this mess? Which you still have not told me about.”

He sighs, head falling to stare at his shoes, “I fell in love with her. She fell in love with me. Well, at least I think.”

Jon, the man so incredibly lost, looks blankly at Lando, “You fell in love. With Y/n. Y/l/n. The woman you used to absolutely detest. The woman who used to hate your guts. You two fell in love with each other?”

Lando nods, “I know how it sounds, but it happened.”

Jon’s head tilts to the side, “Okay, and what happened the night of the gala?”

Jon sees the shift of Lando’s demeanor, his entire body running cold with images of her walking out on him. The boy’s body running cold, he tries to get through the night that ruined it all, “Everything was fine in the beginning. We were just talking to a bunch of donors. You know, we got so many that night. Anyways, we were at the bar and being stupid as always, getting drunk, when Lu showed up.”

“Lu as is your ex?” Jon clarifies.

Lando nods, “Yeah, so she came up to us and we just got to talking. She mentioned the fact that we still talk.”

Jon’s mouth falls open, “You and Lu still talk?!”

“Not anymore, not after the gala. She basically cut off contact with me because she ‘hated the way it made her feel when she saw the look on Y/n’s face’. But, at that time, we had been. I should’ve told Y/n when we started getting serious, but I didn’t and that came back to bite me in the ass because she was so betrayed, Jon.”

“So, she walked out of the gala because she was angry about you and Lu?”

“Yeah, she basically told me I didn’t care about her in the way she thought I had, which wasn’t true. I told her I loved her and then shit just went completely downhill after that.”

Jon’s hand squeezes Lando’s arm, “You told her you loved her?”

There’s a flash of sadness in Lando’s eyes and Jon knows it’s because of the painful rejection. He’s learning that Y/n might’ve started out as one of the people Lando cared about the least, but she had quickly become the center of his entire world.

“Of course, I did. But, she didn’t believe me. I don’t blame her too! The start of our relationship was built specifically on hatred. We never wanted anything to do with each other and then, all of a sudden, we were kissing and it was feeling like something more.”

A silence passes before Lando whispers, “Sometimes I wish I never would’ve met her.”

Jon chuckles, “You’ve said that before.”

Lando scoffs, “Yeah, but that was because I hated her. This is because I can’t deal with the fact that she left me.”

“Have you tried to talk to her?” Jon inquires, eyes roaming Lando’s face in search of an answer.

“No,” Lando responds, grief and remorse soaking his tone.

“Well, maybe that’s where you need to start.” Jon smiles.

“In order to do what?” Lando’s lost on the insinuation.

“In order to get her back.”

It’s heartbreaking the way Lando stares up at Jon as if he’d just single-handedly restored all senses of hope and happiness into his body, “You think I can do that?”

“I think that you and her loved each other too much to let it go to waste this way.”

Maybe you’re right, he thinks. Maybe I need to find out for myself, he thinks.

—

Y/n, the girl he hated so much for the love she made him feel, was locked up in her room of her childhood home, information Lando gained from her mother who he had called quietly. It was the first time they had spoken, but it wasn’t the first time she had heard of him. Her daughter had shown up in the middle of the night, sobbing to her over a boy and berating herself for allowing a man to hurt her in the way he had.

However, with the undying kindness Y/n shared, she had patiently heard Lando out as he explained to her the feelings he harbored for her daughter. Strong words of love had persuaded her into giving Lando their address and giving him permission to come. After all, she saw the way her daughter’s Lock Screen lit up with a loving picture of them every time Y/n got a notification. She clocked the picture as the room where Y/n had been hospitalized after her crash, Lando laying on the bed beside her with his arm wrapped safely around her shoulders, a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at the camera.

Bags packed and in hand, Lando stands in front of her house, hood pulled over his head with sunglasses shoved over his eyes. He takes two steps at a time, bypassing multiple steps in the process as he reaches the front door in no time.

Knocking on the wood, Lando waits patiently before the lock is turning and her mother is appearing before him. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she smiles softly at him, a smile resembling the one Y/n had adorned him with before he made her feel less than the most important person in his life.

“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n. Thank you for this.” He says quietly, not wanting Y/n to hear him and get scared.

She nods at him, opening the door and letting him step in, “As much as you hurt my daughter, I think this space is effecting her worse.”

He lingers in the doorway, nerves getting to him as he stares at the steps in front of him, steps he assumes would lead him to her.

Her mother notices his eyes, “She’s up there if you want to go.”

He takes a step toward them, but takes on back and looks at her with tension in his face, “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”

Her mother’s head moves side to side, “I think, at first, she’ll be mad, but she’ll warm up. I know she still loves you, that’s still there.”

He nods, “What should I say?”

His words relay quietly and her mother lays a hesitant hand on his arm, “Why are you here? Why are you fighting for her?”

His answer comes easily, “Because I love her. Because, after years of hating each other, I realize that I never truly, fully hated her. I hated that she was better than me and the fact that she was winning races more than I was, but I never hated her. I never gave her a chance to show me who she was and it took someone forcing us to be together for me to see how amazing she is. I’m remorseful for that, of course, but I’m happy it happened. If it hadn’t, I wouldn’t have realized the happiness that was standing in front of me all along.”

Her mother smiles brightly at him, “Tell her that.”

🏎️

The door creaks as Lando pushes it open, head poking in to see her laying with her back to him.

“Mom, can I just have some time alone right now?” Her broken voice whispers, curling further into herself as Lando steps in and closes the door.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to walk over to her bed and sit down. The mattress is larger, putting space between them so he’s not touching her.

“I can hear you breathing. Please leave.” She says again, this time pleading desperately.

Lando exhales before lifting his hand and laying it on her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles lovingly. He feels her body tense, her head looking down to inspect the fingers wrapped around her skin.

She pulls away quickly, sitting up and whipping her head around to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing here?! You should be at the race!” She yells at him, shifting farther away from him.

He hates how tired she looks, how puffy her eye bags are from a mixture of exhaustion and tears. His body turns to completely face hers, his leg being pulled onto the bed, “Your mom gave me the address and I got the reserve driver to cover for me.”

Y/n scoffs, “Okay, why would my mother do that?”

“Because she knows I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes glaze over, iciness translating in her every move, “How would she know that?”

“I called her.” He states simply, watching her eyebrows stitch together.

Her head tilts, “How did you get her number?”

“From Nick.”

Y/n body rears back, “My trainer?! You coerced my trainer into giving you my mother’s phone number?! Are you fucking crazy?!”

“For you, yes.” He smiles softly. His comment earns an eye roll.

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begins, but Y/n raises her hands in objection.

“No, Lando. Leave me alone. I appreciate the effort, but leave.” Her hands push his arms, doing nothing to move him.

He gently takes her hands in his and shifts closer to her, “No. I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say.”

Knowing how stubborn he is, Y/n sits back and gestures for him to continue.

“When I first met you, I hated the success you had.” He starts.

Y/n laughs, “What a great start!”

“Let me finish.” He states, “I hated the success you had and I was dumb enough, young enough to think that meant I hated you too. So, I spent years resenting everything that had to do with you. I never gave myself one moment to reflect on the reasoning for my dislike of you. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now. Part of me hates that, hates that I spent so much time treating you in a way you never deserved, but another part of me, the part that has fallen so hard for you, is happy it didn’t. If I had realized that I was just jealous of the race wins you were claiming, I would’ve been cordial with you, never getting close enough to get to know who you are out of the envy I held against you. If it had gone down that way, I would’ve never gotten to meet you. And I mean the person you really are, underneath all the PR trained, guarded skin. I would’ve never fallen in love with you, never experienced you and the happiness you have provided me with. It took us so long to get here, through hurtful insults and screaming matches, I can’t let you slip through my fingers, your love with it, because of my stupid mistakes. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/n stays quiet after he completes his last sentence, staring at him as she decides what she wants to do next.

Softly, she says, “Why didn’t you tell me about Lu?”

He sighs disappointedly, “I don’t know. Truthfully, I didn’t think it meant that much. In my head, I didn’t love her. I was just ending a relationship on good terms. I didn’t think far enough to get to you. I’m sorry for that. If I could go back and sit you down, explain to you what Lu and I were doing, the fact that it meant nothing compared to what I feel towards you, I would. You deserve that conversation. I don’t know if that means anything to you, but I hope it does. She was never going to mean the same thing to me as she had before after I first kissed you. Truthfully, she never did mean the same thing to me as you do. I’ve never felt this way for anyone before.”

Y/n nods slowly, gathering her thoughts, “When did you start loving me? When did it stop being hate? Because that night at the gala, at the end of our conversation, you hated me again.”

Lando shakes his head, “First of all, I didn’t hate you that night. I was just hurt and it translated to something ugly, which I can’t apologize enough for. Second of all, I don’t know when I genuinely started loving you, but I know I realized it when you crashed. When I was running throughout the paddock, I could not get away from the heavy pit in my stomach that only pointed toward one thing, I knew that. I tried to push it away, tried to forget about it, but when I saw you laying there, bandaged and alive, it just hit me. I loved that you were still there, I loved the relief that spread through me, I loved the happiness I felt when I saw you breathing, and, then, I just loved you. It built exactly like that. I was just listing the things, in my head, I adored about the moment in order to get away from the severity of it, and then it was just you. You, you, you, you.”

Y/n’s small smile graces his eyes and he moves closer to her, sitting with his legs folded on the bed and his hands over her thighs. The two of them breathe each other in before Y/n is shuffling closer to him. His arms immediately move from her legs to snake around her torso, folding open his legs and pulling her into him. She lays her shoulder against his chest, her head falling to the side to nuzzle in his neck as her legs spread in front of her, lying over his thigh. She plays with the hem of his hoodie as he kisses her temple, laying his head on top of hers.

“You know, I love you too.” She says into his neck. A warmth spreads through Lando, happiness buzzing all the way down to his toes at her confession.

It’s all he’s ever wanted to hear, “I had an inkling.”

She lightly smacks his stomach, giggling, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

Just as he’s about to rebuttal, his phone begins vibrating harshly in his back pocket. His arm reaches around to pull it out, Jon’s face illuminating the screen.

Y/n laughs, “Can I answer it?”

The idea makes him shine with pride, knowing Jon will be proud to hear Lando’s gotten his girl back. So, he plops the phone in her lap with a smile.

Clicking the green button, Y/n puts it on speaker.

“Lando? Did you get there okay? Have you spoken to her yet?” Jon’s rushed voice says quickly.

Y/n gives Lando a playful look before answering, “He got here okay.”

There’s a silence before Jon is cackling, “AHA! IS HE THERE?! LANDO, I TOLD YOU!”

The couple laughs at his antics, Lando moving closer to the speaker to say, “I’m here and I’m starting to think I should listen to you more.”

There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone before they hear Jon screaming to, what they assume is, the entire McLaren garage, “LANDO AND Y/N, GUYS!”

Again, silence, murmuring even, before the entire room erupts in cheers. Lando can hear it’s just his crew, the group of men knowing how much it stressed Lando out to have her mad at him, the reason she was, they didn’t know.

Y/n and Lando break into tears over their laughter at the men on the other end of the phone. It’s therapeutic to see her laughing in his arms again, a sight Lando didn’t think he would see again.

She’s leaning into him as the men continue to cheer, holding him as her body racks with laughter and all he can do is hold her closer, tighter.

He holds her like she’ll leave him again if he lets go, a thought he knows is so preposterous. Because she’s got her eyes closed, blissed out in his presence and he can see the lines of tension wither away.

She’s safe with him, she shows that through the way she hugs him and softly kisses the side of his neck when he ends the call.

When the noise stops and quietness envelopes them, the couple is left with just each other. He lays them down, her body relaxing into him as she murmurs how much sleep she’s lost over their dispute.

He whispers back, “Go to sleep, then, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He watches her eyes flutter close, her head falling further into the crook of his neck when she crosses the line between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Lando’s not tired, however, only laying down with her because he’s not ready to let her go yet. His eyes wander around her childhood room, pictures of a toddler Y/n winning karting races and different championships. Her toothy grin is a charming sight, a look she hasn’t lost in the years of her growth since then.

After inspecting and finding nothing, but more things to love about her, Lando’s eyes avert back to her sleeping form. He brushes the hair out of her face lightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before whispering against it, “At first, you weren’t what I wanted, but I absolutely need you now.”

Tags (i forgot to put these lol): @toasttt11 @megumilovesme @the-untamed-soul @evieepepi08 @igotnorrrizz @im-an-overthinker @cxrlha @ssrcsm @landoslover @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @louvpdf @weasleyreidstyles @ushygushybaby @theycallmeahugger @sainzluvrr @itsjustaninchident @gavisuntiedboot @gracielukey @formula1mount @cjjydes282clo @ssararuffoni @aexitizen

[cozycottagetarot]

How Will They Pursue

How To Pick A Group:

Typically I recommend going with the image that you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This Reading's Contents:

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

LINKS: Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Paid Readings — Open 🫧

PILE 1

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Two of Cups, King of Cups, Nine of Swords (Bottom Deck: Queen of Swords)

I feel like this is a decision that is well thought out and long pondered on. Your person may come across as slightly intimidating in some manner—  likely due to a label attached to them. They are also someone who is very loving and very giving but guards their heart. A relationship with you or I should say pursuing you is something they acknowledge would have its respective challenges due to your differences, but the pull or attraction they feel towards you is one that they don’t want to miss out on. For them, there’s this sense that they’d endure anything because the reward of solidifying your bond is worth it.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: The High Priestess, Nine of Swords, Three of Cups | Four of Wands, The Chariot, King of Swords rev

Your person's initial approach may have a bit of a faulty start. With the nine of swords here, they may overthink how to get you to like (?) them and come across as a bit of a ‘know it all’ … it’s not intentional, I’m hearing that they’re just trying to come across as a good candidate. That doesn’t feel like it lasts a long time though, it could simply be the first conversation or so… or maybe it happens before they decide they want to actively pursue you. Your person would turn to their intuition or lean on that 'divine guidance' for insights on how to best approach you. They’d approach you as a friend first or at the very least someone who wants the best for you. They want to be there by your side celebrating every accomplishment and cheering you on. I think they may also feel like that’s the most authentic way for them to show up balancing being true to themselves and what they believe in versus how you would be receptive to them.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 2

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Nine of Coins, Five of Coins, Four of Swords

Your person pursues you because they feel abundant with you. I think they’ve been through a lot from a young age and have been 'demonised' throughout their life… seen as someone who just represents destruction. But with you, it’s a new sense of happiness and joy. You’ve offered them comfort and kindness seeing them for who they truly are under the surface (which may be a little rough around the edges). I kind of feel like they hate or resent everyone (not out right but it’s there) but you. They put in the work though and now it’s like ‘okay, I can enjoy life fully’ and in a way, you’re sort of a reward for all the bad things that have happened.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Knight of cups, Two of Laurels, Eight of Laurels | Death, Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups rev

Your person is going to offer you their love right off the bat, but it won’t be inherently romantic. More along the lines of offering themself as a friend or companion. They will work to juggle putting the effort in with you versus their fears and insecurities. I think it could create a little bit of a push and pull between you two… or not quite a push and pull but more so one moment they're easily available and the next they're there for you still but you can sense they’re distant. It’s a new beginning for them (and in so many other areas of their life) so they’re working through those fears as they come to see where things go with you. With the ten of cups, they may also see you as family— found family to be more specific. So where things go from here they don’t know— but they are willing to find out.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

PILE 3

Initial Intentions — Why will they decide to pursue you?

Cards: Queen of Cups, The Empress, The Star

Your person may idolise you a little bit.  You have a very feminine energy (regardless of gender as always)— you’re very caring and have a motherly/parental quality to you. Subconsciously this is attractive to them… I don’t know why yet. You’re someone they can turn to when everything feels bleak. On some level, I think there’s that possibility that they could want you to be the parent of their kids (hear me out 🤦‍♀️) or they want someone who can handle kids – What I mean by this last part is that I think there’s a certain level of patience/understanding/compassion that one has to have to 'successfully wrangle' kids lol. I think you’re also just someone who brightens up the world and is so abundant, and they want you to brighten them up too. It’s like that song “Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, Never let it fade away.” But as much as they see these attractive qualities in you, they also want to give you back some of that light that you always give out.

Initial Approach — How will they initially approach you?

Cards: Five of Cups, Page of Wands, Six of Wands | The Waker, The Queen, The Diviner

I kind of feel like your person pursuing you won’t be very difficult for them because I think you’ll be down for it. Spoiler alert, for the other piles it kind of felt like their person was more subtle and those reading the pile were kind of oblivious to it, but with you, it’s like you’re down for them from the start too. Are they aware that you would say yes to them? I’m not fully sure. I haven’t been reading the bottom of deck cards but I ended up looking at the bottom of the deck and you have The Lovers. For me it just all kinds of feels like commitment or the acknowledgement that you too are very important to each other is inevitable… but you guys are open to the journey and seeing how it plays out. There’s a factor of excitement in their pursuit of you also but overall this person feels pretty chill but confident in how they show up.

When it comes to their initial approach, they’re going to put in the effort to pursue you in a way that feels comfortable for you. They’ll learn about your past hurts and do their best to get to know you. I think that’s really what creates success, them getting to know you and learning how you want to be loved/cared for. Even when/if you pull back they’ll be patient. They won’t rush the development of your connection or your readiness.

Thank you for reading! 💕 This reading has an extended version available on my Patreon. All tiers have full access to the reading, along with the images of the cards, or you can purchase that particular reading as a one-time purchase from the shop section.

Extended Reading Includes:

Hidden Desires — What desires are they not openly expressing?

Actions and Effort — What actions will they take to show interest? (Available on Patreon Free)

Communication Style — How will they communicate their feelings and intentions?

Romantic Gestures — What kind of gestures can be expected?

Timing and Pace — what will be the timing and pace of their pursuit

[bvidzsoo]

From people you know, to people you don't

 𝝙 Boyfriend!Yunho 𝝙 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

∞ Warning: cursing, blood, manhandling ∞ Word count: 3.6k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, lovers to exes to acquittances!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Yunho wasn't the same man you had once known. What he had turned into, you didn't know. But you did know one thing, you'd do anything to keep your daughter safe and away from him.

∞ A/N: Hello...we don't speak of this. I know I'm supposed to be writing my thesis and Love Me Like A Rockstar (and Beyond The Obscure), but my mind had been plagued with short drabbles for all of our boys so...yeah, I'm writing a mafia drabble for all of them, it seems like it:) Yunho is the first one to start off this new mini-series, and the next members will be posted randomly. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated, I hope you enjoy!

 𝝙 Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            It hadn’t always been like this. Yunho hadn’t always been like this. Five years ago when we had met, he was a sweetheart. He was attentive and the kindest man I have ever known, so loving and a safe place. He bought me flowers every third day and took us out on dates every Friday, all throughout those two years that we had been together for. But then…somehow the cracks in his character started showing. His smiles became less genuine and his once protective hold became possessive and painful. There was something about his eyes that didn’t hold any warmth anymore, just scary, icy coldness that kept you rooted to your spot, shaking and praying to a God that he wouldn’t pounce on you and do only God knows what to you. He became a predator ready to hunt his prey…even if his prey was me. The woman he had once claimed to love furiously and ardently, an emotion now turned into constant anger and hatred whenever he looked in my direction.

I have never truly understood what I have done wrong, but after a while, I stopped trying to understand. I stopped trying to decipher who Jeong Yunho truly was, and why he was the way he was. I stopped trying to make it work between us when I found out that a fragile life was growing inside of me. I wasn’t ready to become a mother at the fragile age of twenty-four, but I wasn’t capable of letting the baby go no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. Despite our quickly deteriorating relationship, that baby had been conceived with love, and I knew deep down Yunho was a good man, he had just lost his way in life. And I was scared of him and of whatever he was capable of after that fated night.

A storm was raging outside, lightning illuminating the night sky every few minutes, thunder shaking the ground. I had a bad feeling, a really bad one, as I gripped my warm mug tightly in my hands, staring out the window. Yunho was supposed to be home by now, hours ago, actually, but he wasn’t. And he wasn’t answering my calls nor my texts. A tightness seemed to grip at my throat, prohibiting me from drinking any tea furthermore. The crash of the front door made me jump out of my skin, heart racing as I hurried to the hallway, stopping in my tracks at the sight of my boyfriend. Except that he looked nothing like my boyfriend. Dripping wet from head to toe, black hair falling in his cold eyes menacingly, panting through his open mouth, something red tainting his white t-shirt and seemingly dripping down his forearm. The right sleeve of his leather jacket had been sliced open and I could see a red wound peeking through angrily. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to make sense of the situation, hands slightly trembling as Yunho’s eyes slowly drifted upwards, settling on my form. I had planned on telling him tonight that I was pregnant, that we were expecting a baby, but I wasn’t so enthusiastic about it anymore. I was…scared of the man standing in our hallway, in our, once, safe home.

“Yunho,” I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice, “what happened to you?”

Yunho said nothing as he kicked his shoes off, my body stiffening as I finally noticed what he held in his left hand. A knife. A knife coated in red. A bloody knife. My heart started racing as Yunho’s eyes never left my form as he advanced towards me, unknowingly backing me against the living room’s closed door, making me gasp. He smelled…like smoke and like iron, like blood. What had he done? Who was this man standing in front of me?

“I had to take care of some business.” My once beloved boyfriend’s voice was deep, eyes dead as he looked me all over the face, his jaw clenching, “Business you fucked up, apparently.”

“M—me?” I stuttered, avoiding eye contact when Yunho’s eyes sharply found mine. He chuckled, but it wasn’t amused, it sounded sarcastic and irritated.

“Yeah, you.” He hissed, closing the gap between our bodies, reflexively making me hold onto my tummy. I was too early on in the pregnancy to show, yet I was already oh so protective of my little fragile baby, “And it’s the last time this happens, understood?”

“I—I don’t understand—” I stilled when Yunho’s large palm caressed my cheek, just a remnant of how he once used to do it, “I don’t understand what I had done.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Yunho chuckled, sneering, “you are too dumb to understand. How about you change workplaces?”

“What?” I muttered confused, flinching when he gripped my jaw tightly, yanking me forward, “Why?”

“I wouldn’t want the police tracing back anything to me, you know?” Yunho mused, the look on his face anything like him. He looked almost crazed, he looked dangerous.

“Did you kill someone?” My voice was barely above a whisper as we stared into each other’s eyes, my heart almost beating out of my chest. I couldn’t breathe as Yunho remained silent, a small smile stretching onto his lips as if I had said something funny. But instead of an answer, he just pressed his damp lips against mine, almost making me jerk away from him. But he held me in a vice like grip and the door behind me stopped me from going anywhere. When I didn’t kiss back, he bit my bottom lip and forced my lips apart, pinning me against the door as his tongue slipped inside my mouth, bringing tears to my eyes.

Yunho wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with anymore. He was someone else, someone that resembled the devil and was capable of anything. And so I had realized I had to save myself and our baby before it was too late for the two of us, before Yunho did something horrible to us.

            And after that night, I ran away without even as much as glancing back, without having any regrets. I was scared that he’d try to find me, but he never reached out. I left a note on the fridge, in the kitchen, saying that I couldn’t do this anymore and that I was breaking up with him, starting anew. I moved towns, somewhere far away from him, to a city that was filled with life and so many people that even if he looked in every nook and cranny he still wouldn’t be able to find us. Hyeri, our little daughter, and I, that is. Who will be turning three years old today. Life had been…quiet ever since I decided that Hyeri and I would do just fine on our own. Except for my mother, nobody knew where I had moved to. I was too scared that our mutual friends would tell Yunho about our whereabouts, therefore I broke contact with everyone from my old life.

Here, in the big city, I was cautious of who I allowed close to myself and to my daughter, but so far I was lucky enough to only meet genuine and lovely people. Hyeri seemed to like it here too, the little girl growing quicker than I could wrap my mind around it. Soon, she’d be going to daycare. Our day was long due to the little birthday party I had thrown for her, only inviting over my mother, my best friend and colleague from work, Hyeri’s two friends she met at the playground a year ago, and well, the landlord of my previous apartment whom I had become friends with soon after moving here. He was a funny and considerate man, always eager to help me out. My mother kept saying he had a harmless crush on me and that I should give him a chance, but I wasn’t ready to date yet, and besides…my mother somehow missed the fact that he was gay and happily in a relationship.

After having tucked Hyeri in and cleaned the house as best as I could once everyone left, I finally had a moment to myself as I went back to the kitchen and opened the highest cabinet I could reach to grab a glass and my favorite brand of wine. I settled at the table and popped the bottle open, pouring myself an acceptable amount of wine, relaxing into the chair as I placed one leg up on it, hooking my arm around it. I closed my eyes and savored the almost sweet taste of the wine, sighing quietly and being thankful that it was finally the weekend. I could forget for two days about the massive workload I had at my job, papers upon papers pilling up on my desk, a constant reminder of how overworked I was while being underpaid. But I suppose that’s just how things seem to work nowadays. I must be thankful that I make enough to provide for myself and my lovely Hyeri, still.

As I let my head fall forward and rest on my knee, a floorboard seemed to creak in the hallway. Did Hyeri have another nightmare? Or was just the house settling? I listened closely, but I haven’t heard Hyeri’s door opening, so it couldn’t have been her. Suddenly, the hairs on my arms stood and my body froze, sensing danger before I could even see it. I shoot up from the chair when I heard the floorboards creak again, and prayed to God that it was just my best friend coming back, having left something here. She had a key, after all, she was allowed to let herself in without announcing that she was coming. However, the tall and sturdy figure standing in my kitchen’s doorway made my heart drop to my stomach, hand clenching tightly around the glass of wine I was still holding onto for comfort.

Jeong Yunho.

But how—I had escaped him. Forever. I ran away, I did everything, I—my thoughts kicked into overdrive as I realized Hyeri was just a few doors down, sleeping in her bed, unassuming of the monster standing inside our home. I had to protect her. I just had to. Yunho could never know, he could take me, he could kill me, but he would never touch my Hyeri.

“Fancy little house,” Yunho’s voice was just as deep as three years ago, perhaps deeper now, as his eyes scouted the place, “looks like the dream house you always told me about.”

I gulped, unable to respond as Yunho pursed his cherry-red lips, stepping further inside the kitchen. Strangely, his shoes were missing and so was his jacket. Blue jeans clung to his long legs, a little baggy, and a grey sweater warmed his torso, some university’s name printed on the front of it, his silver rosary hanging over it. Yunho looked like—the man I had once loved. Like the dream guy I thought I was lucky to score. But I knew who he was, what he hid underneath that sheep mask of his. There was a wolf underneath, a dangerous predator waiting for you to lower your walls, to let him in, to be vulnerable.

“What are you doing here?” I found my voice at last, when his fingers touched the petals of the flowers I had placed in a vase, in the middle of the round table I had in my kitchen. Those were my favorite flowers; the same ones Yunho would always buy for me.

“I was passing through the city,” Yunho explained, smiling a little as he noticed a picture of my mother and I stamped onto the fridge, “thought I could stop by and say hi.”

“No.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as my heart did somersaults against my ribcage, “No, you can’t—you just broke in, Yunho! I’m calling the cops—”

“It’s not called breaking in when you have a key.” I all but blanched as he grabbed some keys out of his pocket and dangled them towards me. My blood froze over, body going numb. How did he have that? Just how?! “And the cops won’t be doing anything, my dear—”

“Don’t call me that,” I all but almost shouted, forgetting for a second that I had a little child in the house, “Don’t—you can’t be here, Yunho. You have to get out, right now.”

The friendliness slipped from his face as his eyes darkened, slowly walking around the table, coming closer. I backed away from him, trying to aim for the door, but before I could make a run for it, his hand had already wrapped around my arm, yanking my body into his. I gasped, his once familiar cologne wafting through my nose as Yunho’s dark eyes focused on my face, the same chocolate color as they used to be. But they were cold again, just like three years ago. He really wasn’t the man I had once loved.

“Oh, Y/N,” He sighed, leaning down and nuzzling his head against my neck, nose pressing into my skin, “I have missed you so much.”

I was shaking, frozen to the spot, trying to come up with an escape plan. I would have to go to the police, I needed help. How did he find me?!

“Get off.” I whispered, hands gripping his arms to the point my nails dug through his sweater, “Yunho, let go of me!”

Yunho groaned, pulling back to grab me by the nape as he lowered his head to be eye-level with me. I glared at him fiercely as I tried to wrestle myself out of his hold, but he grabbed my right arm and flushed it against himself, pinning my arm to his back.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be able to find you?” He sounded amused, yet his expression conveyed annoyance, “Did you think you could hide from me?”

My chest was rising and falling quickly as my glare bore into his eyes, his glare just as menacing as mine, “Did you think you could end things like that between us?”

“Yes.” I hissed, fed up by always feeling so small and scared of him, “I left you. There’s no us anymore and there’ll never be, Yunho. You’re a—criminal! You’re not the man I fell in love with, and I have nothing to do with you anymore.”

“That’s not how a relationship works, my dear, we take that decision together.” Yunho snapped, his perfectly calm mask finally slipping as he seethed, jaw tense and a fire in his eyes, “I am still the same man you fell in love with, I’m just not afraid to show all sides of myself to you anymore, Y/N.”

“You tricked me.”

“I didn’t.”

Silence fell around us as we both breathed through our mouths, breaths mingling as our faces were close to each other. My cheeks were slowly flushing from the adrenaline that was coursing through my bloodstream, ears ringing as I started feeling helpless. I had to get away, I needed to get Hyeri and flee this place.

“You would’ve ran away if you knew who I truly was so early on, Y/N.” Yunho sounded defeated as he averted his eyes to the floor, finally releasing my arm he had pinned to his back, instead cradling my face with both hands as he walked me backwards towards the table. I gasped as the back of my thighs hit the sturdy surface, and I held onto Yunho’s sides, trying not to fall backwards.

“Yet I still ran away, Yunho.” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat, “You scared me away. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

“That’s a wish I can’t grant you, I’m sorry.” He licked his lips as his thumbs started caressing my cheeks, his chocolate brown eyes falling onto my lips. My heart seemed to stutter when he leaned closer, his eyes fluttering almost shut, and when he was mere centimeters away from my lips, he paused. I gulped, heart hammering in my chest as I gripped his wrists, his hold turning painful, “When were you going to tell me?”

It was merely a whisper, but with how close he was to me, I heard it crystal clear. I went rigid, suddenly fearing for my daughter’s and my own life again, “What are you talking about?”

When Yunho’s eyes shifted to the side, where the fridge was, and I followed with my own, I stopped breathing. We were both looking at the drawing made by Hyeri, a little girl standing in the middle, holding two women’s hands. Mine and my mother’s. They stood in front of a house, smiles on their faces and with a sun that was a little too big for the otherwise cute drawing. I have never felt dread up until that moment consume my whole being, and before I could stop myself, my eyes glassed over and I gripping onto the collar of Yunho’s sweater, trying to breathe regularly.

“Yunho, no—please—you can’t—”

“I can’t what?” He looked beyond furious, hands crushing my cheeks as a few tears rolled down the,, “She’s my daughter too.”

“No, please.” I tried not to sob, scared it would wake Hyeri, “You can’t—I—I won’t let you. You can’t hurt her. I won’t let you, Yunho, she’s mine—”

“She’s ours.” Yunho snapped, shaking me in the process, making me whimper as I grabbed onto his face.

“Please, Yunho, just leave—just leave us alone.” I begged him, flinching as he started wiping my tears away, almost with a fascinated look on his face.

“You were never going to tell me, right?” He asked in a whisper, suddenly looking very sad. My heart stilled and I felt bad, but then I had to remind myself that he had killed someone and that he had probably done so many worse things that I didn’t know about, and didn’t want to know about. I never truly knew who Jeong Yunho was, and I didn’t want to know. I couldn’t let him come back in our lives. He would ruin everything again.

“I—”

“Mommy?” Both Yunho and I froze, our eyes going wide before Yunho was letting me go, stepping back, looking shocked as his eyes quickly fell on his daughter. I quickly wiped my cheeks clear of tears and tried not to sniff as I turned to smile at our daughter, forcing myself to mask my distress.

“My love,” I chuckled, walking around the table to get to her, scared that Yunho would try to do something, “you’re awake?”

“Bad dream.” Hyeri whined as she rubbed at her eyes, giggling when I hastily picked her up. My heart was beating even faster than before as I tucked her head against my neck, shielding her view from Yunho, who was unresponsive as he stared at us wide eyed. I didn’t know how he’d react, and I was terrified. The resemblance between Hyeri and Yunho was unmistakable. She was an exact replica of Yunho with her round cheeks, freckles spreading around it, and pouty lips, even her eyes were the same light color as Yunho’s in the sunlight. Her temperament, too, was similar to Yunho’s. My daughter was a constant reminder of who I once used to love, yet I could never hold that against her. She was everything I have ever wished for, my light, my life.

When Yunho went to take a step towards us, I quickly backed away, walking out of the kitchen altogether, seemingly making him freeze. He gulped, eyes searching my face for something, but I was begging him to stay back and leave us alone. His hands balled up into fists at his side and I feared what would come next.

“Who is man?” Hyeri mumbled against my neck, peaking at Yunho with her eyebrows furrowed. Yunho and her shared a long look, and it broke my heart as Hyeri gave me an even more confused look than before, “Is he uncle?”

I could only hope she was too young to understand reality.

“No,” Hearing Yunho’s soft voice made me jump and caught Hyeri’s attention again, “just someone—who loves mommy and you.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying in front of our daughter and instead forced a smile on my face as Hyeri looked at me wonderingly, “Really?”

“Yes.” I answered her, my own voice sounding unsure and shaky, “Let’s go to sleep while this man leaves, alright?”

“Mommy,” Hyeri mumbled, looking at Yunho again, eyebrows furrowing, “can man tuck me in?”

“What—” I whispered confused, looking at Yeri with furrowed eyebrows, “no, he—”

“Please.” But Yunho’s pleading voice full with regret shut me up quickly as he slowly approached us, very reluctantly reaching his hand out to pet Hyeri’s fluffy hair, “Please.”

And when Yunho’s eyes found mine again, I was alarmed to see the man I had once fallen in love with. Desperate, begging with everything he could, yet reluctant to reach out. Just who was Jeong Yunho?

“Just this once.” I whispered, arms tightening around Hyeri as Yunho’s face lit up, eyes clearing of the tears he was holding back.

“Thank you.” He’s never looked so grateful before, and my eyes widened when he pressed a swift kiss against my lips, making Hyeri giggle in my arms. And before I could interfere, Hyeri was making grabby hands at Yunho, smiling brightly as he carefully took her in his arms, cradling his daughter against his chest like it was his most prized possession. Yunho’s eyes shone like they were the sun and I stood frozen as he walked towards her bedroom, Hyeri muttering things to him that I couldn’t hear.

What was I going to do now?

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[tarlosislove]

For those who are new to the 911verse because of Buck, hello! This is just another post I'm making to show that there's been Queer characters here all along! 🏳️‍🌈

I'm so glad because of Buck being canonically Bi new people have started watching the show, maybe you didn't know there's been Queer characters the whole time, maybe you don't know that there's a spinoff that is also v queer.

Both 9-1-1 and 9-1-1: Lone Star have been Queer from the very beginning.

9-1-1: Hen and Karen are Lesbians, they're married and have a son together. The first season is.. rough with them but we as a fandom have basically agreed to ignore that storyline because they are incredible now and have been for a long time, just push through that storyline and it's all good from there. Shipname: Henren

You'll see Michael and David for a few seasons, they're really sweet and I love them, they're said to still be together but they're not on the show anymore. (That is completely the fault of the actor for Michael)

Josh is a recurring character, he's gay and Maddie's friend and co-worker at the dispatch center.

Buck has had so many moments throughout the show that just makes complete sense that he is now discovering his Bisexuality. So don't worry you're not gonna have to wait 7 seasons to see Buck have Queer moments.

There's also several times we see Queer characters that are just there for an episode because they were part of the rescue.

•

9-1-1: Lone Star: Carlos and T.K are gay and get together at the beginning of the show and are still together as we're going into season 5. Shipname: Tarlos

Paul is a Trans man firefighter. As a Trans person Paul means so fucking much to me.

Nancy is Bisexual, while there has only been one comment in the show both the writers and the actress for Nancy have confirmed she's Bi.

Again there are times when you see Queer characters that are there for an episode or for a rescue. I love when shows do this because it just normalizes Queerness throughout and it's not just main characters that are Queer.

These are both gay firefighter shows and I truly hope you love them! ❤🧡💛💚💙💜💖

[ch6sos]

more nanami headcanons (but as your bf !!!)

a/n: hey everyone! thank you for all the support on my last headcanon post. i never really expected it to go far, but somehow it did. it was my first time ever posting a "fic" you know? i was cringing the entire time but it was worth it, for you guys :) since it did well, here is some more!

i used third person by the way so you're referred to as his partner. tried to make this as gender neutral as possible cuz i love you guys

cw: slight suggestiveness (ooooh... but it's not extreme you sillies)

Extreme gentleman. He respects their wishes all the time. If they want space, he will give it to them. He will give them whatever they ask for.

Pays on the first date. He forbids their significant other from doing anything. He will pay because he wants to. He truly wants to, not because he feels obligated to.

Would be kind of shy about doing anything at first, especially Teen!Nanami. Even after a long period of dating, he would always ask before showing affection because he does not know if they feel comfortable or okay with it.

"May I please hold your hand? Are you okay with that?

"...We've been dating for a month."

"I know, but, I must ask, you know? In case it makes you uncomfortable.”

When he (as well as they) grow comfortable, the affection begins to become more "intense." Not intense, but he does it more frequently. He holds their hand more, gives more kisses, more hugs...

He would give the best hugs. He is a cuddle machine. He appears to hate them, but does he truly? Exactly. No, he does not. He loves them so much. He wishes he could give up his job to spend the entire day cuddling with his partner.

"Stay close to me, please."

"I don't plan on moving."

"Good. I wish life were like this every day." He hums, squeezing them gently.

Kisses with him are never short; even if he is late. He never leaves his significant other hanging. He craves and desires to kiss them. He enjoys giving his partner a passionate kiss, drawing them near to his chest, and placing his hand behind their head, leaving a memory of the kiss that is warm, tender, and unforgettable.

Genuinely feels like he could share his emotions with his significant other. Yeah, he is still serious, because it's who he is. He was raised in a family surrounded by serious people. Though, throughout the relationship, he learns how to express his emotions better. He feels like he genuinely could reveal all the emotions he has stored in him already around his significant other. If he's feeling upset, he would genuinely express that to them. If something ticked him off, he would sit down and talk to his partner about it.

Despite all of that, he still is more of a listener than a rambler. He prefers putting others first before him, and that also goes for who gets to talk. He enjoys looking at their partner with a loving gaze, as they talk nonsense. Whether it is about the new show they picked up, their day, or the latest gossip, he loves listening.

He would write love letters. I do not care if you find that corny. He is corny. He will write love letters. Nanami is romantic. I don't care what anyone says he is a romance god who does not get to show it off as much. He loves writing lengthy letters, showing the love he has for his partner. Describes their personality and how much he cherishes them, how much he thinks they're beautiful, and how he thinks that they are the stars in the night sky that stand out.

Playing with his partner's hair is (one of) his favorite ways to show affection. If they have long hair, he loves to try styling it and ruffling it. If they have type 4 coily hair, he starts learning how to take care of it so he can try protective hairstyles on them.

Another thing is lazy Sundays. He loves Sundays. Even though he has to go to stupid work the next day. The sensation of them being in his arms when he wakes up, his arms encircling their bodies firmly, the sheets covering them. He enjoys gently leaning in to kiss their shoulders, the top of their head, and the back of their neck. When they began to stir, he pulled them closer— not wanting to get out of bed. All he wants is to spend Sunday morning in bed with his lovely partner.

Gets flushed at compliments, but it is not as obvious. When their significant other says he is handsome, he smiles softly and thanks them, but on the inside, he is freaking out.

Cooks breakfast in bed for them. Always. He loves getting up just to make his significant other the tastiest breakfast ever; it is his specialty. He prepares a warm beverage and some fruit-flavored crepes topped with Nutella and whipped cream.

Before meeting them, Nanami was kind of an insomniac. He would not sleep; hence why he has dark circles. But after meeting them, he started sleeping more. Despite everything, he continues to get up before his partner to prepare breakfast for them.

Not only that but when he was stressed, he would drink his sorrows away rather than confide in someone. Since the fan book claims that he enjoys drinking, I think that, unfortunately, one of his coping mechanisms is doing exactly that. However, since meeting them, he has kept everything under control. He learned to express himself more freely and genuinely strives to avoid suppressing his emotions.

Bro is a simp. His mouth drops when he sees his partner dressed. His jaw falls to the floor. He is stuttering a bit too. I know he is supposed to be calm and collected but he would NOT be calm and collected around his significant other, people. He would go feral and be a simp for them.

He says I love you first. It was quite unexpected and seemed to come out of nowhere. He just blurted it out without waiting for the perfect moment or anything else. It was probably a simple morning, cuddling with him on the bed as usual, looking at each other fondly, and he said, "You know how much I adore you, right?"

When he realizes what he is saying, his eyes widen slightly, but then crinkle up when they tell him they love him as well.

He will do whatever his partner says. They could be 5'2 or around his height; he is a certified simp who immediately attends to their partner's needs.

Even if that includes forcibly doing silly TikTok trends. He pretends to hate it but he doesn't. He is a munch or whatever Ice Spice said.

He enjoys nuzzling his partner. Guys, I do not care. This man is a bundle of love wrapped up in a stoic-looking man. He enjoys sneaking up behind them, entrapping them in his arms, and nuzzling their neck and the top of their head. Wherever he wants, whenever he wants. And he utters sweet nothings. And leaves tiny, delicate kisses. He also wraps his arms around their waist.

He sometimes becomes overwhelmed, so he requires his own space. However, he does not simply distance himself from his partner. He properly expresses that sometimes he needs his own space. He still adores them but also needs some space. He does not want to cause conflict or misunderstanding because he is not that type of person.

Will be there for them when they are sick, even if they believe they look disgusting. He does not care; he believes they are the most beautiful sight he has ever seen in his entire life (which was cut short) (sorry, I am still coping). He will be there to care for them whether they are throwing up, crying, or whatever.

He cooks for them, he gives them medicine, he cuddles them even though he knows he may get sick...

And he does. Every single time. And he acts like a baby too.

Adorable tall, strong man Nanami acts like a baby when he's sick. He needs to be looked after completely. He starts off coughing (like a grandfather or a father). So his cough is obnoxious and loud, and he frowns. He then looks up at his partner, his expression reminiscent of a puppy who has been denied treats. It is an adorable sight. It's a turnaround from his usual chill demeanor. He then spends the entire day in bed, despite his attempts to do his routine tasks like cleaning and cooking for them, which they forbid. And he pouts about it like a big baby.

"Please let me take care of you. You took care of me, so now it's my turn."

"No, you're sick, Kento."

"That doesn't matter." He frowns.

“You always take care of me anyway.”

“But it is my honor to take care of you, my love.”

and then they end up having seven mental breakdowns

If they bring home a stray one day, he is reluctant on taking it but you know damn well he'd be like one of those dads that is hesitant about taking it at first but then ends up cuddling it the next day and then begging for them to not take it to the shelter.

Genuine sweetheart. Holds the door for their significant other, makes arrangements for them when they can not find the time, prepares meals for them, and if they come from a different culture, he starts to learn about it, particularly if they are involved in it.

...This guy is in no way aggressive. I have seen people mischaracterize him as a dominant "daddy" or whatever because he is serious, and Mappa blessed us with the hair-pulling scene. That scene was primarily caused by rage at Haruta's thoughtless harm to those around him and the fact that the man was going against two young girls. He would never act in such a way toward their partner, particularly when they were in bed. He is more of a gentle lover and is afraid of going too far.

Needs are needs, so if they ask, he will comply with some hesitation. He never seemed to get into it, so he tells them that.

That does not mean he is not into some stuff. Bro be praising. He praises hella and talks them through it.

"My love, doing so well for me."

"So beautiful, so gorgeous, all sprawled out for me like this."

“You’re mine. Until the end of time, angel.”

“God. My love, my everything. You drive me wild, you know that?”

“Eyes on me, sweetheart. Want to see how breathtaking you are from here.” All in his deep, ragged and needy voice.

that made me cringe

help I'm crying at the cringe so sorry

His favorite dates with them involve going to a restaurant. Nanami knows some hidden gems, so he enjoys taking them to restaurants where they can eat delicious food. Being a food enthusiast, it goes without saying that he is aware of the good and bad places to go. Because of Nanami's exquisite taste, they have never had to worry about their food.

As I previously stated, he prefers traditional nicknames such as sweetheart, my love, darling, angel, and beloved. I do not see him calling his significant other "baby," "baby girl," or whatever; I believe he finds it cringe-worthy. This is self-indulgent oops.

Sings softly to them while they are sleeping. He sings a song while they are sleeping because he is too ashamed of his singing. His vocals are not bad; he is just shy. (Little did he know, they had several recordings of him singing in secret...)

He will sacrifice his blanket in bed just to wrap it around his partner if they're cold. Bro would give them 90004868787893 pillows, and 8 blankets if they said they were cold.

He exaggerates things. And when I say he exaggerates, I mean he goes to great lengths to win his partner over. If they enter a new niche, he buys *everything*. On date nights, he gives them large bouquets if they like that, and he treats them as if they were royalty.

"You didn't need to get me this entire figure collection from *series*... I feel so bad."

"Well, do not worry, I enjoy buying these things for you. I see how happy you are, and it immediately warms my heart.”

Arguments with him are not bad. He truly never gets upset to the point of yelling because that is not who he is—he is not a guy who yells and he does not want to cause trauma to people in general. Again, though, he seems composed, and it might be frightening. But he then does something right away that causes his partner to instantly give in. Bro could just breathe and they're like "OKAY" and yeah. I understand. I would fold so hard bro.

His love languages include quality time and acts of service. He loves spending every single second with his partner and is immediately angry at the world when he has to work overtime and can not have more time with them. He enjoys taking them on dates or simply staying at home on lazy days. He loves spending time with them. Furthermore, he expresses his love by doing things for his partner, such as assisting them with their work (if he could), giving them massages when they are stressed, cooking for them all the time, washing their dishes even when they beg him not to, eating the olives off of their plate if there are any... He is the king of acts of service.

He is not good at taking pictures. His large thumb keeps covering the lens, so they have to force him to take the pictures repeatedly. Despite this, he never becomes irritated because he gets butterflies just watching his partner pose in their gorgeous clothes.

Speaking of photos, he already had an Instagram account beforehand. (As much as he hates to admit it, Gojo is sometimes the one who takes the aesthetic photos on his page.) He was not active, but he has a few posts on it, but as soon as they got a partner, oh lord Jesus. Bro will post on his Instagram story every single second.

Even though this happens, he prefers to make his relationship private. Private but known, you know? He wants the world to know that he is lucky enough to date them, but still not reveal information or talk about his relationship to anyone. So he would take those private but not secret type relationship photos.

Captions are always complimenting them and are extremely poetic. He's just that guy.

"saw a breathtaking sight. the beach is also there."

“every aspect of you captivates me, body and soul.”

"we are all floating around with the stars and the universe, and it somehow led me to you."

cringes again

Off-topic but not, Nanami would NEVER, and I mean... NEVER, go for his student if he was a professor, even if their relationship is legal. I can't stand it when people do that. He understands that there's a power dynamic behind it and it's low-key creepy how much people enjoy it.

Along with stepcest. Why do so many of you like stepcest? Nanami is not touching any of his family members. I'm scared to say this and this is probably hella controversial for this app but he's not touching anyone even if they're not technically related.

Age gap too. He would not date someone extremely younger than him. He is not going to be 40 and dating a 19-year-old. I just can't see it.

Other than that, he does not have any preferences when it comes to appearance. He has turn-offs, but not in terms of appearance. He could care less about what someone looks like.

In terms of personality, he dislikes negative people. He despises that. He would feel guilty if he became involved with someone unconcerned about the world. He also dislikes immaturity and pettiness.

He prefers people who bring positivity into his life, you know? Someone much more outgoing than he is, but still a mature person with whom he could relate. The more extroverted they are the more they bring out of him. As long as they're not so overwhelming to him.

Even so, he simply enjoys people for their kindness and consideration. How willing they are, how passionate and motivated they are. He simply wants someone who is driven by their goals.

Texts them dad memes he found on Facebook.

“Look at it, it’s funny.”

“...lol”

“You laughed at least a little bit right?

“...No?”

“Okay. I apologize :(“

LAUGH AT HIS FACEBOOK MEMES PLEASE. THEY ARE NOT THAT BAD PLEASE.

When he met their family, he appeared calm and collected, but he was nervous. He was fidgety on the way to their house, something he had only ever done in high school. He experiences anxiety about whether he would be accepted by them or whether he would be good enough.

“Wow, I have never seen you this fidgety before.”

"I apologize. It’s just… What your family might think worries me. I am not sure if I will meet their expectations. I simply want to let them know how much I genuinely adore you for who you are and how much I want to be yours forever."

And they are like ??? because this man is perfect? He is the dream man anyone could ever ask for.

Do not take this man mini golfing bro he sucks ass… I know you guys think just because he is partly white he will immediately be good at golf but no. He sucks ass.

He would be protective, but not excessively so. He is devoted to his partner and will intervene quickly if someone upsets them, intimidating them with his composed demeanor.

"I advise you to distance yourself from them before I regretfully have to take action, okay? We wouldn’t want that, right?” Dumbledore says, calmly. While puffing out his chest. And mewing. And mogging. Whatever that means.

Okay fine, he will watch Jersey Shore, The Real Housewives, Love & Hip-Hop, etc with them. Pretends to hate it but he is invested.

Imagine just going to the bedroom and just seeing him in his reading glasses, sitting up against the headboard, immersed in the book in front of him. The only thing he has on is a simple white tee that does justice to his figure and pajama pants.

Yup feral.

Tries to get into the things their partner likes just so he can understand when they yap about certain things. He just wants them to talk about everything to him. He finds it adorable.

Allows their partner to give him a skincare treatment. He then begins to do it himself. Well, he would only use one product—a cleanser. That being said, he started using toner, serum, and other skincare products. And, yes, he allows them to put ridiculously cute facemasks on his face. And the cute little star pimple patches.

Do not take that man ice skating or rollerblading either. He would be so hesitant on going because he sucks at it. He just goes because his significant other told him to. He fell immediately.

“This sucks.”

“Stop sulking and hold my hand.”

“...You don’t even need to ask.” He says, all giddy.

Please show him the love and care he deserves.

When he works out he will flex on them on purpose. He thinks it is all funny to be all yummy. It is NOT funny.

Yup, he does push-ups while they’re underneath, each time he goes down he gives them a peck.

Yeah so imagine that with him in his compression shirt and shorts…

I could read your mind, people. You are not slick.

This man will not let his significant other have insecurities. He is the type to leave notes all over the bathroom, and every mirror, with encouraging words. Praising their looks and more. Plus he shows in…other ways (wink) how much he appreciates how beautiful he thinks they are.

If they are unhappy, he will truly be devastated. He is miserable when he sees them upset, so he does everything in his power to cheer them up. Whether that’s cooking something for them, taking care of them, trying to make them laugh, getting them something from the store, or sitting down and talking to them about their problems, he needs to make them feel happy.

When he drives, he would not put his hand on his partner’s thigh. He would much rather grab their hand, and put it on his lap, as he listens to them hum along to the radio. He purposely moves the mirror slightly toward them, just so he can see how pretty they are through the mirror. He also looks at them with a slight smile at every stop-light, occasionally leaving small pecks on their face.

Does not mind if they steal his clothes. Go on then silly. He could care less. He thinks it’s cute as hell.

Would teach them how to do things. For example, he will teach them to play an instrument if they do not already, especially if he knows how. He looks like a lovesick fool as he watches them replicate what he did. Unable to resist the urge, he kisses them without reason.

“What was that for?”

"I could not hold back. You are very tempting."

“Is that a good thing?”

“Yes. You are everything I think about and want."

Butterflies all around people.

His only red flag is that sometimes he may prioritize work over his relationship. He unfortunately gets into the stress of work and begins to grind more at work. Call him out and he gets back into his senses.

Buys more storage space for his Samsung S24 Ultra to retrieve more pictures of them. His camera roll is nearly full. Just because of his significant other, his camera roll increased from roughly 150 images to over 13,000 images.

When he comes home from work, he immediately collapses on the couch or their shared bed, on top of them. He then looks like a sleepy puppy.

“Someone’s tired.”

“I hate overtime.”

“I know you do. I cooked something for you.”

“I could have just cooked for the both of us…”

“But I knew you’d come all tired from work. So no.”

“That doesn't matter, you know? I love taking care of you. Just to see that pretty smile on your face.” He pouts, once again.

He ends up making it up to them. You can interpret that however you want.

As soon as this man sees them in formal attire (or in general) it is OVER. His jaw is on the bottom of the earth, his eyes are slightly widened, a blush on his face.

“I have no words. God, I don't know how someone could get even more impossibly perfect, yet here you are, darling. No matter how many times I see you, you still manage to take my breath away.”

yup heart attack

Prepare for so many compliments daily. He talks like a true romance book. None of that Colleen Hoover stuff.

Talks about his partner like a true gentleman. He's not like those types of guys who just talk about their significant other as if they're his property. No. He talks about them as if they are an art piece.

Overall, he just loves his partner so, so much. He expresses it in a variety of ways, from taking care of them—to telling them every single second of the day. In his own words,

"Your presence in my life is like a breath of fresh air, keeping my heart full and content. I love you more than anyone could ever fathom, and I promise you, you have my heart for eternity."

i love him </3 NANMINPLEAEE BE RELALRHABADHDJSKDHSNEB

[numberoneredriotfan]

It makes me really upset that Kirishima and Bakugou's friendship wasn't highlighted too much after season 4 or the shie hassakai arc. And I don't even mean this in a shipping sense. Kirishima was a HUGE part of Bakugou's character development even if it wasn't shown that way.

At first, Kirishima is introduced as one of the only people who can handle Bakugou and all his intensity- as well as his explosive (haha get it) personality. This is showcased more clearly in the sports festival arc.

Kirishima offers to be Bakugou's horse, because he's the only one that can handle his explosions with his hardening (which is probably the only quirk in 1-A that really effectively deflect Bakugou's explosions, so nobody else could really be in that position other than Kirishima.) Also, he without hesitation called Bakugou a dumbass and told him to remember his fucking name, even after seeing how angry he can get when provoked. And this isn't even the last time Kirishima does this. So Kirishima becomes someone who can handle Bakugou, but their friendship doesn't end there.

Most this development probably happened off-screen, but overtime Bakugou started to see Kirishima as an equal. Not just someone who could handle Bakugou and put up with him, but as someone who is able to stand by his side unwavering while also understanding his perspective to some extent (which I assume is rare for Bakugou, considering most other's view of him is either "what a jackass" or "wow he's so cool").

Which is why I really love this scene they added in the anime, which shows that Kirishima understands Bakugou, even if he seems like just an arrogant asshole. I think the only other character who understands Bakugou on that level is Deku (and of course his classmates learn to understand later on, but I'm talking about early on).

Kirishima was arguably the first person who Bakugou saw as an equal. Something I noticed about early Bakugou is that he either had a superiority complex or a inferiority complex with someone, and there was really no in between lol. That was, until Kirishima. Who came in as someone who neither above or below him. While Kirishima doesn't take any of Bakugou's shit, he also doesn't treat Bakugou like just a jerk.

This is of course, showcased best in the iconic Bakugou rescue scene.

This scene was honestly just such a good show of their bond, and how Bakugou sees Kirishima. Because as Deku pointed out, Bakugou wouldn't have taken anyone else's hand. We know this for a fact, as this was the same man who would've rather been kidnapped by villains then accept Deku's help-

So yeah. I fully believe if it was anyone other than Kirishima to reach out a hand to him, he would've straight up ignored them and would've tried to fight the villains himself. (Death is one thing but his ego is another apparently-).

It would be ignorant of me to say that Kirishima was the only one who understood Bakugou, because that's just not the case. Because as we saw multiple times throughout the series, Deku (as previously stated) understands Bakugou very well from the very beginning. However, while this opens up the gateway for a reconciliation with Bakugou in the future, Bakugou's complex feelings about Deku make it impossible for them to form a relationship based on that. Kirishima came in as a breath of fresh air, in which there was no lingering resentment or complexity involved. And of course, later in the series, we see the other members of class A understand Bakugou on that level as well. But in the beginning at least, Kirishima was the only person he could sort build that bridge of understanding with.

And even if it's never stated explicitly, I truly believe Bakugou wouldn't have opened up to relationships with his other classmates if it weren't for Kirishima befriending him. Or at the very least, it would've taken him a lot longer.

And the we have to take into accountability of how much their friendship has helped KIRISHIMA develop as a a character. As we can see, from the very beginning, Kirishima has a bad habit of comparing his quirk to the others of their class.

This isn't his fault necessarily, as in their society it's probably drilled into your head from a young age that you can only be a good hero if you have a flashy quirk.

And because of this, rather than looking at his own strength, he pays a lot of attention to how he compares to others.

So clearly, he's hard on himself and has a lot of self-esteem issues. (I am him. He is me-)

And it's clear he looks up to Bakugou a lot from just...Bakugou being Bakugou. Bakugou's a very forward person who jumps in without thinking (for better or worse), which is almost everything Kirishima wants to be. I honestly think that might've been- at least partially- what drew Kirishima to Bakugou. He wanted to be more like him, even if he wouldn't admit to himself. He, in a way, was putting Bakugou on a pedestal, even if he didn't realize that Bakugou sees him as an equal.

But then, Bakugou tells him this:

Which in the end, pushes Kirishima to reach his full potential, which came in form of unbreakable. Bakugou, who was originally someone he looked up to and admired, eventually became his motivation. His drive, even. And it wasn't just Bakugou, obviously, but Bakugou still contributed a lot.

And after all this, their friendship gets pushed to the side so we can focus on Bakugou and Deku's reconciliation. Which isn't bad! I love Bakugou and Deku's friendship as well! And I will say it holds a lot more importance to the plot of the story, and it wasn't necessarily a requirement to have Bakugou and Kirishima's relationship showcased more.

But still, I feel as though one could assume that once Bakugou got his character development from Kirishima, he didn't need anymore. Like he was just a stepping stone in order to reach his redemption with Deku. Which is just a sad way to look at their relationship :( and I truthfully believe that that just isn't the case. We did get a few crumbs, but even then we never got to see them talk one-one as friends after a while.

This isn't supposed to be Kiribaku propaganda or anything like that, and some of this will probably fall into headcanon territory and is just my interpretation of their characters. This also isn't me saying that their relationship is more important than Bakugou and Deku's, or Kirishima and Mina's, this is just more of a vent on how I would've liked to see more of their friendship.

Edit: just wanted to put this here as well

(From mha ultra analysis)