#yeah i totally lied about things being short

[enniewritesathing]

All the pre-relationship ship questions!

hi, anon! 👋

you got it. It's a lot to read!

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

The short version is that Brian on the track team as a freshman and he was constantly being picked on by upperclassmen/teammates (he was way better than them so. yknow, take him down a notch.) Without any prompt, John stepped in. At this time though, no one really knew John and it was very easy to make shit up about him.

One day, during a class that they shared, Brian goes to the bathroom. It doesn't return for a while and the teacher asks if someone can go; John does. He finds Brian a mess -- and asks what's wrong. When Brian doesn't tell him, he guesses. He's right. John basically makes the command decision to be like "I'll take care of them."

(Brian just realizes that it's John, the kid who rarely says anything. He just knows he has a gym bag that he keeps in the front of the classroom.)

Brian offers to do any homework that John has, and John declines. He doesn't need to do anything, except join him for lunch. In the meantime, they got to know one another. Turns out they have a lot in common (and John admitting that he's shy but bc the way he looks, people read it as something else. The girls certainly do.)

One lunch, the people who were harassing Brian found him and did what they did -- but see, John's there. And they don't know. :)

Long story short, (lol), Brian got swung on and John blocked/countered the leader with a punch. Everyone who was involved got suspended, even Brian (bc zero tolerance is such bullshit and John voiced it as such.)

Outside of the principal's office he and Brian are sitting outside. They both hear a woman's voice going off. Brian looks over -- this doesn't seem like this is John's first rodeo the way he looks. Brian's shaking like a leaf -- what will his aunt say? What will she do to him? John takes out a piece of paper, writes something down and gives it to him. It's his phone number and address (?). As Brian's about to ask, the door swings open. A tiny woman comes out and says John's full name... and John is immediately on the defense, pleading his case and she's not having it -- wait until his uncle hears about this.

She briefly looks at Brian and he shrinks as well -- but only for a second; she asks if he's okay. His reply is meek. Honestly, he thought he was gonna catch some strays but she was satisfied -- and turned back to John before storming off. He makes the 'text me' gesture before following suit.

Brian waited two days before coming by the house. He's nervous. Door opens, it's tiny woman. John's mom. Brian apologizes for the whole mess that he's caused but she waves him off. John told her the full story; though he was out of pocket about it, he did the right thing, so she really can't fault him for it. Brian's relieved and she asks if he wants something to eat after calling down John.

(later on, Brian figures out that she was politely calling him skinny -- which he very much was.)

John's surprised at seeing Brian and for the first time, sees him smile. It's a nice smile.

What was their first impression of each other?

Brian thought John was ~cool and mysterious~ and fairly intense. Turns out John was generally a shy person.

John thought Brian could use a lot of sandwiches, lol. He thought that he was smart. (He still does.)

Who felt romantic feelings first?

John, actually. He didn't quite know what to do about it so he was pretty clumsy.

Brian really caught feelings at a gross time (long story short, John had a bad stomach virus and was throwing up in the middle of the night; Brian came in and put his hair in a bun and looked after him for the rest of the night. Didn't care that he was probably gonna get sick. He knew he was really in deep for him to do that.)

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

They did not! As it went on, they realized that there was something between them and decided to test it out with a kiss*.

*several practice kisses

**Brian insisted on John needing practice.

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

I couldn't find the post that I made thinking on this but it would be very different for the both of them.

I think I said that John would be a full-time Muay Thai boxer if he hadn't met Brian. With that, he wouldn't have much time for relationships, if at all. If he did end up finding someone, it's more of a settling down sort of thing, if that makes sense. I feel that he'd have something missing but not quite sure what that is.

(and this is not taking to account that he's a werewolf... he'd be more harsher on himself about it, imo.)

Brian would've been way different. I still think that he would've gotten away from his aunt eventually, maybe running away, but because of him not having a support system... he'd be in perpetual survival mode. He certainly won't like it, no, but he is built for it. He wouldn't stay in one place too long, or be with anyone that long either. One he senses a shift, Brian will leave. It wouldn't be terribly stable.

What was their "flirting stage" like?

Clumsy. John's an accidental flirt more than anything else (and this is still true), so there was a lot of pseudo false starts. Brian is more of a physical flirt with touches (hand on arm or when John flexing his bicep... it wasn't much back then lol).

How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?

For John's side -- his family was very supportive! (Family in the beginning being his mom and aunt and uncle at this point. Dad's side of the family didn't know about it until a few years later and they generally disagree. Not like he talks to that side. If his dad were still alive, he'd be a little surprised but supportive anyway.) Noelle was supportive in that she saw how her son lit up around Brian and how so much better he was in general; it was very obvious after a few talks that he clearly loved him and gave him that nudge.

At first, John didn't think his uncle Elijah didn't approve (there was the whole masculinity at play... it wasn't toxic but maybe some lean into it. I guess indirect?) When Eli pulled him aside after Muay Thai practice and asked John what was up with him at the time (sudden intensity, more focused). He asked, "Who is it?" and John was leery but he told him anyway. Eli nods and tells him that it's fine, to his surprise.

(I think I'll do a one shot of this at some point.)

Everyone else was more or less "god, finally."

For Brian... well, his family didn't even know as he's disowned, and his aunt that he stayed with didn't know until John and Noelle got him to bring him back to their place for good. Connie was disgusted and was about to drop a slur but Noelle punched her square in the nose. Years later, when Connie was at the hospital Brian worked at -- and he realized that even she was terminal from cancer, she was still keen on tearing him down. She admitted that she wished she had her knife on her when she accidentally punched John in the side. (She actually swung on Noelle and John grabbed at the last second; she ended up punching him instead.)

[luveline]

kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k

"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."

Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face. 

"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy." 

"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen. 

Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!" 

"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?" 

"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!" 

"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long." 

Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down. 

"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."

"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?" 

Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren. 

You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.

"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features. 

Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."

"But not for a while?" she asks, startled. 

You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time." 

"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?" 

"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile. 

"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?" 

"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits. 

You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap. 

"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.

Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door. 

"Are you in there, Ave?" 

No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in." 

He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please." 

He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here. 

Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom. 

Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with. 

"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?" 

"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor. 

"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party." 

Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands. 

"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" 

"Dove bit me." 

Steve gasps. "Again?" 

"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts." 

He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"You said I can't be mean–" 

"No, you can't–" 

"But it was really mean." 

"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears. 

Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands." 

He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it. 

"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you." 

"What?" 

"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time." 

Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?" 

He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her." 

He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found. 

"Why would I do that?" 

Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down." 

"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?" 

"What were you doing?" 

"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!" 

Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?" 

Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear." 

"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it. 

Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously. 

"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."

You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something." 

Dove frowns. 

"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?" 

Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily. 

"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery." 

"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles. 

Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to." 

You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?" 

Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front. 

(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.) 

"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.

She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened. 

"What?" he asks. 

"Um…" 

"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?" 

Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.

"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.

"More time. Have any?" 

"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?" 

"I don't need anything." 

"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?" 

She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug." 

"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you." 

Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back. 

"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!" 

"We're your only Harringtons." 

"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both. 

Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby." 

"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend." 

Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?" 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you." 

They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many." 

"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?" 

"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something." 

"How'd you get out of that?" 

Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers." 

"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing." 

"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora." 

"Don't swear in front of my kids!" 

You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington. 

"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids." 

You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you." 

"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin. 

Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon." 

Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!" 

Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie. 

He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?" 

Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!" 

"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke. 

Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach. 

"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers. 

Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born." 

"I'm really happy too." 

"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?" 

Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?" 

You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?" 

Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?" 

You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?" 

He leans in for a kiss. 

"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!" 

Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers. 

[jjkamochoso]

Obviously Oblivious

Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Request from Wattpad: "Reader and Hoshina are being so oblivious that they both like each other to the point where this absolutely annoys Mina and Okonogi because they are ITCHING to see both of them together."

Warnings: none

Another mission done, another celebration was happening at Third Division’s base. Though her subordinates were known for their high success rate, Captain Ashiro was pleasantly surprised by just how smoothly the last kaiju disposal went, opting to treat her soldiers with a special catered feast. Thanks to Izumo’s family connections, the chef served sizzling plates of A6 beef and endless amounts of accoutrements for the standard price, making Mina’s soldiers happy and the military budget even happier. Mina captured a piece of meat between her chopsticks, quietly observing the rowdy group in front of her. Konomi Okonogi sat to her right, a steaming bowl of soup fogging up her glasses. Mina stifled a giggle as she watched the girl wipe her lenses with her sleeve, heavily squinting. Satisfied with her work, Okonogi placed the glasses back on her face and blinked a few times, looking around the room. All of a sudden, her eyes went wide.

“You alright?” Mina asked her, noticing her change in expression.

Okonogi nodded, sputtering slightly. “Huh? O-oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

Mina wasn’t convinced, raising her eyebrows at the bespectacled woman expectantly.

“Well, I…” she hesitated before finishing her thought. “Hoshina and L/n are sitting awfully close together.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Yes!” Okonogi exclaimed, Mina surprised by her outburst. Her face turned beet red as she hurriedly explained herself.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Captain! It’s just that their behavior together is strange. Quite frankly, they’ve been getting on my nerves.”

The operations leader took a sip of her drink and Mina’s curiosity was piqued. Having had her own thoughts surrounding the actions of a certain vice captain and officer, Mina was wondering if she finally found someone she could vent her frustrations to.

“They seem to like each other,” she mused, treading lightly in case she misread the situation.

“Like each other?! Total understatement. Those two are hopelessly in love but won’t do a thing about it!” Okonogi complained, irritated.

“I thought I was the only one that noticed!” Mina replied, excited that the woman beside her was the perfect confidant she’d been yearning for. “They drive me crazy with their cluelessness!”

“Exactly! I don’t know how they don’t see their feelings for each other! I mean, they’re blinder than I am without my glasses! It’s ridiculous!”

“I don’t usually condone relationships in the workplace but those two really are perfect for each other,” said Mina, eyeing you and Soshiro as you giggled over something he had whispered to you. It made Mina’s heart soar in her chest seeing people experience happiness in these moments, when the death and destruction you all faced almost every day could be forgotten for a short time.

“Oh my god, Captain.” Okonogi tugged at Mina’s sleeve. “I think Soshiro’s gonna put his arm around y/n’s shoulder!”

“No way,” Mina breathed out, anxiously watching as Soshiro scooted closer to you, if that were even possible. He looked fidgety.

Probably nervous, Mina thought, staring down the lovebirds. Soshiro was ready to make his move. He brought his hand over his mouth—

He wasn’t going to do that. Was he?

“OH MY GOD!” Mina practically yelled as Soshiro faked a yawn, stretching his muscular arm behind you and resting it comfortably on your chair. The room went silent almost immediately, soldiers turning to see what was going on with their captain.

“That food was really hot,” Mina lied, trying to hide her embarrassment behind a napkin. “I’m fine. Everyone, back to what you were doing.”

In an instant it was like nothing happened, rambunctious chatter filling the space once more. You and Soshiro weren’t phased either, easing back into what Mina figured was your previous conversation. Soshiro’s arm was still around you and Mina was relieved that she didn’t jeopardize this huge stride in your non-relationship.

“What a classic move,” Okonogi said, resting her chin in her palm. “If that wasn’t enough to make them realize their feelings, I don’t know what will.”

“Don’t underestimate their ability to be emotionally unaware,” warned Mina, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if y/n read that as a friendly gesture. They’re both oblivious to romance.”

“They’ve made that quite clear,” griped Okonogi, observing you holding up a spoon to Soshiro’s lips as he took a bite of whatever you offered him. You were laughing with each other again and Okonogi was confused at how any of that behavior could be so deeply misconstrued as anything other than flirtatious.

“Should we do something about this? I don’t know how much more I can take,” Okonogi said.

“I worry it may be unprofessional to get involved, however helpful our interference might be,” replied Mina.

Okonogi sighed. “You’re right. Besides, it is pretty fun to watch this play out. It’s like a soap opera.”

Later that night, Mina and Okonogi were about to say goodbye to one another after making sure no soldier was left passed out at the dining tables. With dinner cleaned up and everybody walking or stumbling back to their rooms, they closed the door and made their way down the abandoned hallway.

Actually, they made their way down what they thought to be an abandoned hallway.

The two women shared a knowing look when they heard stifled giggles echoing from around the corner.

“You’re always so funny, Soshiro,” your voice rang out, and Mina and Okonogi could only imagine the sickly sweet smile you were giving the man.

“Gotta stay on top of my game to keep ya around,” he teased, and they could only image the lovesick grin he was sending your way.

“It’s getting late. I should get going,” you told him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll see ya tomorrow?”

Mina and Okonogi didn’t miss the hopeful lilt coating his voice.

“Of course,” you had replied. “I’d miss you too much if I didn’t see you.”

It took everything within themselves to not slam their heads against the wall. How were you two so… so…

Dumb?!

“That’s it. I’ve heard enough,” Okonogi said, marching down the corridor. Mina had no idea what was about to happen, she just knew she couldn’t miss it. She hurried behind Okonogi, rounding the corner at the perfect time.

“Both of you! You’re driving me insane! Kiss already, dammit!” Okonogi demanded, startling you and Soshiro. She left as quick as she came in, leaving Mina dumbfounded.

“Have a good night,” she told you, hands awkwardly clasped behind her back as she nodded before hurrying away. Recovering from the unexpected chewing out, you glanced at Soshiro, a mischievous gleam in your eye.

“Okonogi’s never given us a bad command, has she?” you asked, hoping he understood what you were getting at.

“Our impeccable Operations Leader has never led us astray, you’re correct,” he responded, his fangs glinting in the dim light. His hands found purchase on your hips while yours rested on the back of his neck, the distance slowly lessening between your bodies. As your lips began to touch his, you realized you owed Okonogi big time for her help.

[cattlemons]

hi, if you're okay with writing for him, wanderer x reader hcs? (it can be short and brief!!) /nf

The Archivist and The Stubborn Scholar

TW: Not proofread and the punctuations on this might be kinda yikes (tried my best tho), this particular big boy is 1,7k words big (very short and super brief (❁´◡`❁))

Hope you like this, my first ever nonnie! (I wanna frame you like a first dollar)

I feel like the Wanderer is kind of a tough nut to crack because his trauma wall is 100 inches thick.

At the beginning, he’s really just huffing and puffing and being a total jerk to you (and everyone else). To be honest, you’re just trying your best to tough it out and not cuss him out every chance you get.

Technically, he isn’t a permanent student of the Vahumana; he only comes in to borrow research papers he needs for his own paper and then he’s off again. So, there's no reason for you to see him all that much.

But aside from being a student, you’re also the Akedemiya’s archivist, so you do meet him fairly often. Not that you enjoyed his prickly presence at first. It was quite the nuisance, if anything.

Every time he comes in to borrow something, it feels like he’s purposefully trying to get a rise out of you.

He’s also frustratingly accurate in pressing your buttons; like he knows exactly what makes you tick and explode.

You want to chop his head off.

Luckily for him, you’re closer to Celestia than he is because your patience for him is on par with that of a saint.

“I need a paper on Tatarasuna, but I want it as recent as possible. The closer to ‘yesterday’ it is published, the better.”

Looking away from your own paper, you looked at him like he grew five heads, each wearing a big ‘ol hat. To your defense, you’re only four beats off.

“Look, I know you’re an honored guest of the Archon and only recently started joining in on this research writing business, but you’ve got to learn how we do things here,” you huffed as you searched for a written guideline you have not needed for a while now.

Pulling the paper out of your bag, you pointed and explained the graphic drawn on it.

“First, you go and find out which collection of research papers you need and ask me politely if we have it here in the archives. Then, I tell you if we have it or not before asking if you want it copied and if you need more assistance—”

“Okay, fine. I want Tatarasuna papers and assistance.”

“Please let me finish.”

“Why’d you stop talking if you weren’t finished?”

“You interrupted me?!”

That’s basically how an average conversation with him goes.

But as time goes on, the hate turns into dislike and then into pretend hate and finally into secret like.

At the start of his research, the visits are few and far between, but as the research starts getting heavier, his visits get more frequent too.

He also likes to work on the tables right outside the archival building for “quicker access to papers.”

This is not for the public, but he also kind of maybe perhaps secretly likes looking at the archivist.

He just likes looking at you when you’re confused about why the journal you’re reading is spewing lies. He also likes looking at you when you huff at your paper because the wording is all messed up.

Yeah, his sadistic tendencies were not wiped away when he pulled his stunt on the Irminsul. You can’t win them all, I guess.

Anyway, it’s all totally because he likes seeing you suffer. You’re on top of his “pain in the ass” list, after all!

Not because you look adorable when you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

Definitely not because he knows you didn’t get enough sleep last night (he heard your friend chastise you about it) and you made a bunch of mistake on your paper.

He DEFINITELY DOES NOT find your tired eyes and sleepy yawns cute (like a very angry cat he DOES NOT want to take care of).

But really, he actually believes in this reasoning. He simply thinks it's schadenfreude.

Man’s smart when scheming but dumb bum when anything else.

He does not catch on to his feelings all that quick. In fact, it took him embarrassingly long.

He had to do a lot of soul searching and experience a ton of jealousy to finally realize that maybe he likes you more than he hates you.

Or rather, he likes you more than he originally allowed himself to like you.

Oh no! It’s the consequences of having a heart because a heart isn’t an object but the accumulation of interactions that build the psyche and emotion! Darn, life lesson! (Wanderer, probably)

The Wanderer decided that he’s going to work on his paper in the archive building today. He’s not in the mood to sit in some shitty cafe and listen to incessant chatter.

Wow, he wished he had chosen the cafe instead.

“Hey! Who told you, you can just take a paper out of the archive and waltz your merry way home? Give that back. Right now!”

“I thought we were friends,” Kaveh mumbled in faux hurt as he stretched his hands out to return the paper to you.

“Archivist first. Friend second,” you huffed out, snatching the scroll of paper out of his hands.

The blond proceeded to clutch his chest and make a scene.

Sometimes you wish you weren’t such good friends with the man. At least then, he’d act civil.

Meanwhile, the Wanderer was watching all this from the front row seat; absolutely soaked with friendly-banter-that-he-misunderstood-as-lovey-dovey-affection. Your interaction with Kaveh spilled over into the splash zone of his seat in the archival building and he hated it.

In his mind, he came up with the conclusion that the heat in his heart is coming from a place of annoyance.

Why are you so loud at 7 in the fucking morning?

Why is the blond one also so loud at 7 in the fucking morning?

Why are you even entertaining guests this early in the morning? Didn’t you refuse him any service when he came this early a few weeks ago?

Why is this guy any special?

Somewhere much deeper in his mind, he thought differently.

I thought you were only grumpy with me.

You said ‘friend’ to him, right?

Why does that ease me slightly?

But you treat me like that too… Am I a ‘friend’ as well?

Why does that hurt even more?

After that moment, his visits get less frequent. When he does visit, though, he keeps things brief and… polite?

You even tried to start up a banter; mentioning something you know (on a normal day) would get his veins popping and kick-start a back-and-forth and then some.

To no avail, he stayed silent and just looked mildly inconvenienced.

This confused you to Celestia and back and then to Celestia again and then back again.

He’s honestly not too sure why he distanced himself from you in the first place.

But hindsight is 20/20 because after a much-needed self-evaluation session (by ‘self’ I mean himself and Nahida) he knows it’s because he doesn’t want a fourth addition to his list of major betrayals.

Not that he’ll actually agree with that statement out loud. But inside, he gets it.

Of course, this understanding is between his own person. You, unfortunately, were completely out of the loop.

You thought you had somehow pissed him off beyond forgiveness or crossed some kind of line.

At one point, you thought that the banter was, in a very weird way, flirting.

But maybe you got it wrong. What if he never saw you as a friend at all, let alone someone he might like.

You decided that if a relationship(?) friendship(?) has to die, then it’s going out with a bang.

*(bang = mutual understanding on what went wrong and peacefully going back to being strangers).

So, you visited him one day. Out of work hours too (mmmm how bold).

The knock on his door broke the puppet out of his cluttered thoughts; thoughts of a certain archivist he misses. Grunting as he stood, he closed the book he pretended to read in favor of opening the door.

“Who is it?”

He opened the door just as the ‘intruder’ reached to knock on the door again. He doesn’t know why you thought that knocking needed that much force but he’s certain it’s way too much.

Anger poked at him as he yelled, “That’s going to bruise, idiot.”

It won’t.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You should be! That hurts.”

It did not.

“Not about that! I’m sorry for whatever happened between you and me to make you hate me…”

The fuck?

“You don’t have to forgive me or anything. I get that you have some sort of past to make you that way and I probably overstepped somewhere but… I thought we were friends. I thought if you were to revert back to us being enemies again, at least you’d tell me why…”

The Fuck?

“Is it because you know I like you? If that’s the case, you’re not fully wrong but I can just throw that away because I know you’re probably not looking for something like that and that’s probably the bit where I overstepped and you know I’m not even fully invested in it so really I can just stop!”

The FUCK?

So much for mutual understanding. With how things are going, it’s more of an individual understanding.

You got way too nervous and now things are spilling left and right and he’s not even saying anything?! He’s just staring at you like you grew five heads, each wearing a big ol' hat. You took a breath to continue your long-winded mess of a rant when he clutched your shoulders.

“Stop for a second, will you, motor-mouth.”

You clammed up right away, tears leaking out of your eyes.

“Listen, I’m not going to ever say this again but I like you too. It’s shit and I hate feeling it because… because I’ve never felt before, okay? So, stop talking all that crap about throwing important things away, it's pissing me off.”

You fully started sobbing now. He panicked and pulled you in for a very awkward, very stiff, but very loving hug. Snot got on his robe and cape as you cried your emotions out on him.

He found he didn’t quite mind. He could use less snot, sure, but he was glad you cared this much over him. He's never had anyone worry over him, let alone to the point of crying.

Soon, tears prickled his eyes but it's alright because relief found his heart.

By the way, he did say it again. He said it 1,000 times before your eventual marriage and 5,000 more times but with ‘love’ as a substitute for ‘like’.

What a liar.

a.n. My first ever request and I’m so incredibly chill about it (lies I jumped and screamed slightly). Anyway, I’m not sure what you’d like to see so I made this about how you came to be the wanderer's partner. Send in another one if you want something more specific (I’ll literally smile and break my cheek muscles if you do).

[angelfoxx]

I just know Keegan looks so god damn hot in his casual clothing, going to bed in loose grey boxers and an old band shirt that rides up his stomach when he lies down, AND GOOD GOD his happy traillll😫I feel like he’s one of those guys with really bushy happy trails, doesn’t even know how sexy you find it. He’s lying in bed, one of his big arms around your shoulders while reading an old book. Raises an eyebrow when your hand starts wandering up his thigh, fingertips dipping under the waistband of his boxers..

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° ❝ NEED SOMETHING? ❞

…in which keegan entertains your perversions.

FEATURING: keegan p russ.

WARNINGS: keegan being a sexy motherfucker. also me giving him a tatted sleeve because it’s sexy and who the hell is gonna tell me no. also me drooling over his happy trail bc HAPPY TRAILS HAPPY TRAILS LOOOOOOOORD

NOTE/S: oh my god

It’s not your fault, really. Feeling like this. It’s not your fault.

It’s his.

He’s not ignoring you. His arm, slung up on your shoulders, is just a heavy, toned reminder that he’s with you. His attention is just elsewhere.

You aren’t totally sure what book he’s reading. Probably something of Stephen King’s. Last week, it had been Christine. The week prior, It. You hadn’t bothered checking; if it was a low-stress week, he’d tell you all about it once he finished it, true book-critic style. In any case, he’s got the thing casually in his lap, spread open by a splayed hand. He’s got a simple silver band on his middle finger, gnarled and twisted like barbed wire — every now and then, he taps it, just an occasional beat of sound as if to remind you that he’s right there.

You’re ogling his hand, now. He doesn’t seem to notice.

Your eyes travel upward. He’s got a pretty sleeve of black-and-white tattoos; churning ocean waves, storm-battered whitecaps, tossing ships. He’d explained it the first time you’d seen it; something about how he found peace in the chaos of an ocean storm. Just standing in a place where there was no resistance that he could give. Surrendering to the fury of nature. Something like that. It’s…um, attractive. Yeah. You swallow and resist the sudden urge to squeeze your legs together.

The top of that sleeve — thick, billowing clouds — vanishes under the edge of his tee. Charcoal-gray, emblazoned with the title of an old rock band that you’d never really heard of prior to meeting him. He’s still wearing his dog-tag, hanging on a silver chain around his neck and rising on his chest every time he breathes.

Christ, you should stop staring.

His shirt’s ridden up on his stomach, and god, you really shouldn’t look because then you won’t be able to look away. But you do look, because what are you if not a swooning idiot for the sniper sitting beside you?

Every time he breathes, his stomach sinks in and you can see the outline of his abs. God. Fucking Christ. You can see the outline of his abs but not really the middle, because along the middle he’s proudly sporting a long line of short black curls.

You’re basically salivating.

He’s just got some loose gray boxers on, sitting dangerously low on his hips. He’s left the v-line of his hips exposed; your senses are on high alert, eyes catching on every little mole spotting his waist, every little white scar, the edge of the paw-print tattoos he has just below his stomach (it’s where Riley’s front feet go when the dog stands up on his hind legs, tail wagging and tongue lolling), and it’s such a cute little tattoo but your thoughts are anything but and—

“Don’t forget to blink.”

You flinch like you’ve been shot. Your mind goes blank, and your gaze shoots upward.

Tiny smirk caught in the corner of his mouth, Keegan looks down at you with lidded, quietly humored eyes. They seem brilliantly blue, moreso than usual — though maybe that’s just the lighting in here. His hair’s a mess; short and still damp from his earlier shower, undercut scrubbing against your arm as he turns his head, just a little, one eyebrow raised. There’s a little scar through his left one; the hair splits unevenly there. You’ve told him several times that you find it sexy.

He agrees.

“What?” Your mouth feels like it’s filled with a fat wad of cotton. You feel like your thoughts are visible in your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid.” His response is honey-smooth. “I’m not dumb.”

“I didn’t say y…you were.” You swallow. “I’m just sitting here.”

“Mm.” Keegan narrows his eyes. “Mhm.”

And then he goes back to that book.

It’s kind of ridiculous, how hard you stare at his hand holding that book open. It’s almost pathetic, actually. You’re sure he’d say the same if he knew exactly what thoughts were running through your head right now. Pinkie finger on one page, index on the other, middle and ring both resting so lightly along the inseam of the spine.

Christ.

Trying to shake yourself out of your own head, you turn yourself inwards. Keegan needs no words; his arm tightens around you, hand sliding down to your hip and tugging it over so that you’re fully facing his side, head resting against his chest and body slung down along his leg. It’s comfortable like this; it goes without saying that he’s built like a motherfucker and so his pec is a comfortable resting-place for your head. He’s warm, too, deliciously so; his body heat seeps up through his tee, prickling against your skin. He’s comfy, so comfy; on other nights, you’d fallen asleep like this, cuddled up to his side with one of his arms wrapped around you. Those nights were sweet; when time started to slow and all of your senses started to bleed together, you always heard him call your name, so quiet you wouldn’t catch it if you were awake. When you didn’t answer, he’d laugh — and then you’d hear the rustle of sheets as he stooped over and pressed a little kiss to the top of your head.

You weren’t totally sure if he knew that you knew he did that.

Tonight, though, you can’t do that. You can’t fathom it, because your hand is just itching to move. It’s just casually resting against his thigh — god, his fucking thighs, hard and thick and oh, you have to stop ogling him. You have to stop thinking about how that muscle feels, flexing so slightly under your hand as it moves up.

Moves up?

Oh.

Oops.

Keegan doesn’t say anything when your hand cups the warm spot between his legs. He lets out a short breath — it almost sounds like a laugh. There’s a curve taking shape on his lips, and his eyes glint with humor as he shifts, purposefully pushing his pelvis so slightly up into your palm.

The weight of his dick pushes between your fingers and your legs instinctively snap together. Above you, Keegan’s breath cracks into a nearly-silent laugh.

He’s onto you.

You bite your lip, risking a glance up at him as you do. He isn’t looking at you; he’s still reading, hawkish blue eyes scanning from left to right, over and over again. The hand on your hip lightly squeezes a handful of your thigh.

His hips roll so slightly up again. He’s daring you to continue.

Cocky sonofabitch. You swallow as you move your hand up, up, over the slight angular swell of his abdomen and up past the elastic of his boxers. For a moment, you rake your fingers up his abs and you shudder in response to the way his stomach flexes and his breathing oh-so-slightly breaks.

No words. Just the sound of him turning the page.

Bitch. You bite your tongue as you shift your head around. You can hear his heart thumping beneath your ear, and — god fucking dammit — it’s not beating quicker at all. It’s like you can’t disturb him. Get under his skin like he gets under yours.

You pick at the elastic of his waistband. On one hand? You’re rubbing your legs together, biting your tongue, and there’s a million and one dirty images in your head. You can practically hear Keegan’s growl in your ear: too needy to sit still, princess?

But on the other hand, he’s being mean. He’s ignoring you and all of your signs. And you kind of want to just roll over and go to sleep and maybe, just maybe, he’d been hoping for you to go further.

But you won’t. So he’ll get frustrated, and then it’ll be him slowly reaching his hand under the elastic of your waistband, fingers curving over the shape of your body and feeling for wet warmth. He’ll breathe in your ear with that stupid rasp of his and he’ll ask, voice raw, if you were really planning on hanging me out to dry like that? and you’ll say maybe I was.

Or he’ll get frustrated, but he’ll reach into his own pants. He’ll leave you alone, but you’ll wake up to the quiet sound of his muted groans and his hand stroking back and forth under the thin material of his boxers and then maybe he’ll do that thing where he tips his head back, swallows, and his eyes flutter shut and he cursed, quiet and hoarse.

Or maybe—

“Cold feet?” There he is again, short phrases and little questions. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking at his book, tilting his head as he turns the page. He raises an eyebrow to you, tongue clasped between his teeth.

“What?”

No response this time. Keegan’s eyes shift over to you; he cocks his head in your direction, and under that messy black mop of hair and those thick black lashes that you’ve always been envious of, Keegan silently asks if you’re really going to play this fucking dumb.

You’ve arrived at a stalemate. You don’t move. He doesn’t speak. You two just stare at each other, blinking back-and-forth like a tennis volley until Keegan finally sighs and looks away. His eyes return to the book.

You’re about to snap, ready to rip the godforsaken thing out of his lap, when the hand on your hip shifts. His arm lifts off of your back; it pulls around your shoulders instead, crushing you into his armpit.

His fingers clasp around your wrist, and you catch the undeniable edge of a smirk on his face before he takes your hand and pulls it into his pants.

get fucking cliffhanger’d bitches

[ghostgirl-22]

Hi! <3 You’re like my favorite writer for Artrick! I swear you characterize them perfectlyyy

I keep thinking about the idea of Art and Patrick going on a date when he’s at Stanford. Like obviously Art wouldn’t admit it’s a date, but I imagine it’s after Art reluctantly admits that he wants to hang with Patrick alone when he comes to visit and that he’s a bit jealous of Tashi. So they basically have an unofficial date night. How do you think this would go, and how would Art go about initiating something physical between them because he’s obviously not gay right?

Okay but you’re actually such an amazingly talented writer and I love your stuff so much! Thanks so much for this request I honestly don’t think I did this ask justice and I’m sorry it was so long but I hope this attempt brings you some amusement <3

CW: 18+ !NSFW! 3.8kish words

—-

It’s not that Art is jealous. He’s not jealous. He’s not. But up until now Patrick’s always called him and stopped by on his little trips to Stanford. It’s not like he expects Patrick to stay long, he knows he’s not the main event… but he at least expects him to come by.

So when Patrick shows up at his door three days later, asking if he can stay in Art’s room, Art tries his best not to express his irritation that he hasn’t once come by his room till now. And it really stings because Art knows the only reason he’s here now is because of the limit on how many days he can consecutively “visit” her dorm.

“You’re saving me man,” Patrick says, patting his arm as he drops his duffle on Art’s designated chair full of stuff.

Art shrugs. “Yeah well. Happy to be an afterthought.” He mumbles.

Patrick raises his eyebrows and then gives him a crooked smile. “You are never an afterthought.”

“It’s fine,” Art says, already embarrassed that he brought it up. “You’re dating Tashi Duncan. It’s totally understandable dude.” He tries to sound nonchalant, hopeful that it’s how he comes across. He feels like he spends so much time these days swallowing down on feelings. Feelings he can’t name, feelings he doesn’t even really understand. None of them jealousy. He’s really not jealous.

He does often wonder what they do alone. He thinks about what they do in bed since the most he really knows is that they’re fucking. He knows Patrick calls her all the time because he doesn’t really call Art that much anymore. They used to sit on the phone for hours, barely talking or talking too much, sometimes till late in the night. The same way they did when they were sharing a room in high school. But gradually it became, Patrick leaving the call earlier and earlier. To Patrick not really calling that often at all.

“You know, you can help me with something actually,” Patrick says, flopping onto Arts bed.

“What?”

“I’m taking her on a date tonight, we’re going to get dinner and see a movie.”

“Oh,” Art says. “What movie?”

“The new Saw movie. What number are they on now? 11?” Patrick laughs.

“Oh I didn’t know she’d like something like that,” Art says carefully.

”Yeah well, she saw the first one and she said liked it. She never got around to the others. I asked her if she’d be scared to see it but she said even if she was… she wouldn’t mind being scared if I was there. Isn’t that kinda… hot?”

Art shrugs again, swallowing it down.

”Sorry, is this hard to hear?” Patrick asks, patting his cheek.

“Fuck off,” Art mutters. “I’m just… I’m thinking about my game on Sunday. I’m not really worried about your relationship actually.” He lies.

“Good cause I was just gonna ask for your advice on what to wear. She tends to dress up for this kinda thing and I don’t want her to be annoyed if I show up in shorts and a t-shirt again.”

“You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“Yeah… you’re always put together,” Patrick says.

“All your clothes are tailored. Just pick something.” Art says, dryly.

“Okay but I want to wear something comfortable. Not something that makes me look like I’m about to donate a hefty sum at some stuffy fundraiser.”

Art sighs, “fine what’d you bring? Lay it out.”

Patrick empties his duffle on the bed, everything he has that isn’t training gear, playing gear and t-shirts is all wrinkled but Art has an iron. He helps Patrick pick something out. He’s still irritated, but he thinks he covers it well.

He’s actually stunned by how happy it makes him when Tashi calls and says she has to cancel. She does kids tennis lessons for extra spending money and a client wanted her help to prep for a game in the early morning.

Patrick’s talking to her, his tone understanding making her feel better about canceling last minute and promising to see the movie another time. He’s such a good boyfriend. It’s so weird that he’s not fucked it up by now. Art can’t remember Patrick ever dating anyone this long before.

Art’s sitting on his bed, back up against the wall, kicking his feet over the edge, listening to him.

“Sorry man, you’re stuck with me all night,” Patrick says after he hangs up. He knees the bed and sinks into it, settling down and leaning close to Art, he picks up his half ironed slacks and frowns.

“Mm… why don’t we go out?” Art suggests.

Patrick laughs and so does Art, feeling himself beginning to flush.

“Or… I mean… we could just hang out. Watch Hell’s Kitchen or something,” Art says quickly. He looks up when Patrick doesn't reply and Patrick is staring at him, a peculiar look on his face.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.” Patrick smirks. “You can be my date.”

“Yeah? Why not?” Art smiles. “I mean who says two friends can’t go out for dinner and a movie.”

Patrick laughs a bit, his expression flitting quickly between amusement and something Art can’t recognize. “Mm right. Platonic date night. Here we come. You have something nice right?”

”Yeah,” Art says. “I can wear that one shirt I wore to the awards dinner last year.”

“Oh yeah, you look so hot in blue, wear that,” Patrick teases.

“Shut up,” Art smirks, ignoring the weird feeling that blossoms in his chest after Patrick calls him hot.

They get dressed. Patrick’s clothes fit him so well. He’s in an outfit that might read as casual (fitted t-shirt, slacks, and a blazer) if not for the simple elegance of it all being quietly wealthy.

He’s also got a great body and anything fitted on him is going to bring that out. Art doesn’t think about his body often or anything like that, it’s just something he notices. The sky is blue, water is wet and Patrick Zweig has a great body. It just is.

They go to the movies first. “I prefer that when I go out on a date, so we have something to talk about over dinner or drinks,” Patrick explains as he drives them over to the theater in his jeep. “You know in case the date is boring. Not that that’s ever the case with Tashi. Actually, you know what’s crazy? I feel like she’s as easy for me to talk to as you are.”

“Hm,” Art says, swallowing down on something bitter in his throat. “Well I think you should try to find a balance. Talk to other people. You don’t want to scare her away by only ever talking to her.”

“Oh is that what you think?” Patrick says, smirking. “I don’t only talk to her actually. I’ve just got a lot of pressure on me. The only time I get a chance to rest I’m so exhausted— I got one phone call in me and so you know…”

“Oh,” Art says. “Well yeah I guess that makes sense.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” Patrick asks.

“Mm, I mean… I think I might be interested in this girl on the team. She’s really good.” Art lies. He’s not really interested in anyone and he’s probably wasting his time, thinking more about Patrick and Tashi than he spends thinking about his own social life. He wants her so bad unfortunately every other girl he meets just pales in comparison.

—-

They’re actually on the 4th Saw movie, and it’s as stupid as Art might have expected. They laugh about it over dinner at Applebees. Patrick’s got this pretty realistic looking fake id so he orders a drink and they split it when the waitress isn’t looking. Not that she cares, she’s also a Stanford student. She’s been to a few tennis games to watch Tashi play but she knows Art is the number one singles player on the men’s team.

“You’re really good,” she smiles at him and he can feel his skin flushing as Patrick grins at him from across the table.

”Thanks uh— but Patrick actually plays professionally.” Art says.

“That’s so cool,” she says, she smiles at Patrick and then looks back at Art. “I would love to learn to just hit the ball over the net.” She laughs.

”He can teach you that easy,” Patrick says. Art kicks him under the table and he just grins wider.

“Can you really?” The waitress asks, flipping her pretty blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Yeah I mean… whenever,” Art says, awkwardly.

“Cool, I’ll be back. You guys want anything else?”

Patrick gives Art a meaningful look and then orders a second drink.

“When were you gonna tell me you got number one singles?” Patrick asks, watching her as she walks away.

“I figured Tashi told you,” Art says.

“Yeah but you should have told me,” Patrick says. “She’s hot right?” He adds, gesturing back towards the waitress.

“I mean… I can tell her you think she’s hot,” Art says. “I don’t think she believes you’re actually dating Tashi anyway.”

Patrick laughs, “God you’re such a dick. I meant for you. That would be a fun night.”

“I guess,” Art says, rubbing his palms on his lap. It’s all he has to say for Patrick to keep teasing him throughout the rest of the night, getting her to come back over and flirt with Art. He orders more and more drinks which she happily brings over.

In spite of the teasing, it’s actually really fun. Of course Art has been to movies with Patrick before, even gone out to dinner with him and their friends or family before, but this feels different. Art can’t figure out why… maybe because he gets to be in Tashi’s place. Maybe because it feels like old times.

They probably spend two and half hours in Applebees talking about the movie, high school, tennis, their parents, video games, girls and anything else that pops into their heads. They only leave because its 12 am and the restaurant’s closing. By then they’ve split a total of six cocktails and Art is feeling so tipsy.

“How much is it?” He asks when the waitress brings the bill.

“I’ll take care of it,” Patrick says.

“Dude it’s okay we can split,” Art says.

“No relax, it’s our platonic date night, right?” Patrick pulls out his credit card. “I can give you this though.”

He hands Art the non singable copy of the receipt and on the bottom the waitress left a note: For whenever you decide to teach me how to serve, Jenny. Followed by her phone number and a heart.

“She drew a heart and everything,” Patrick teases.

”It’s for you,” Art says, shyly.

“It’s so clearly for you, Stanford boy,” Patrick smirks.

“We probably have to take a cab home,” Art hiccups. Changing the subject. He does slip the receipt into his jeans pocket though.

“Oh yeah,” Patrick says. “You’re so responsible by the way. I love that about you.”

Art snorts a laugh and Patrick starts laughing too. Patrick leaves a big tip and they call a cab. Art promises to come back with him to pick up his jeep in the morning and they share a cigarette while waiting for the cab. When it arrives they hop in the backseat for the 25 minute ride back to campus.

Art’s feeling sleepy, the combination of food, alcohol and a long car ride is lethal for him. He closes his eyes, head slipping to settle on Patrick’s shoulder. Distantly, he feels Patrick rest a hand on his thigh and he opens his eyes, suddenly wide awake. It should be a nothing feeling but Art goes rigid, he feels it all up and down his spine and even worse, his cock starts to wake up.

“Did you have fun?” Patrick asks, quietly.

“Yeah,” Art says, he stares at the meter on the cab. He feels so dizzy and confused as Patrick’s fingers play a light pitter patter along his thigh.

“I’m sorry I’m not… free all the time. Like in high school, you know?” His voice is soft, Art can almost feel the vibration of it from where he’s leaning. He can feel Patrick’s breath on his cheek. It makes no sense the way his body is reacting. Maybe he’s drunker than he thought.

“Uh,” Art sits up. “Don’t worry about it. We’re both um— busy.”

“I know,” Patrick says, he’s still playing the pattern on Art’s thigh. “But I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”

Art feels anxious, he looks up front, he can see the driver glancing back at them in the rear view. “Look… obviously your girlfriend comes first. We can do bro stuff whenever…” Art says as he gently eases Patrick’s hand off his thigh even though it feels nice. His heart is racing like he’s running some kind of marathon he doesn’t know why but it’s probably just the drinks. All the alcohol making his head all fuzzy.

“Yeah,” Patrick sighs. “Bro stuff.” He rests his head against the back of the seat and they’re mostly quiet for the rest of the ride. Arts mind is racing. All he can think about is how close they are but how much it feels like something is slipping away.

The halls are mostly empty as they get back to the dorm. There’s a few students still up. A couple talking softly to each other. One girl on the floor with her headphones plugged in watching something on her laptop. Some guy exits his room, talking on his cellphone as he breezes past them.

“You think I can sneak back to her room or no?” Patrick asks, one arm resting on the door frame as Art leans in to unlock his room.

Art feels his heart still beating oddly fast, probably because Patrick is right behind him. He’s never been able to manage personal space as long as they’ve been friends but right now Art is just so… aware of him. “You can stay here. It’s just one night. I’ll even let you have the bed all to yourself.” Art says.

“It’d be two nights. I leave on Sunday.”

“Okay, two nights then,” Art pushes open the door, breaking the closeness. It feels like a temporary bit of relief.

Patrick follows him in and slips off his shoes. “That’s the one thing I hate about dressing up. Fucking boat shoes.”

Art smiles. “I’m really drunk I think.” He says, kicking off his own shoes.

“Yeah?” Patrick smirks.

“Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna make it to practice tomorrow.”

“Isn’t it in the afternoon?” Patrick pulls off his jacket and then his t-shirt. He digs through his duffle for something to put on.

“Yeah but still.” Art realizes then he’s been watching Patrick undress, like he hasn’t seen him butt naked before. He shakes his head and goes to change into his own night clothes.

“Don’t be mad,” Patrick says as Art gets his jeans off.

“What?”

“I think I need a session, maybe I found that waitress hotter than I realized,” he’s in his boxers holding himself. His eyes fall over Art’s body.

Art looks down and swallows. He’s seen Patrick erect before… even touched it… But they were a lot younger last time. They’d actually grown out of doing it in front of each other a long time ago.

But ever since Patrick brought it up that night… ever since they kissed… Art’s mind would occasionally wander to what it might be like to see it again. And now there it was… just… right in front of him. Patrick holding it idly like it’s not ridiculous to be carrying all of that around. Art’s fingers twitch, his mouth is suddenly too wet and he swallows again. The worst part… he’s getting hard.

Patrick sighs. “I’ll go in the bathroom.”

“Um…” Art can hear his heartbeat in his ears, he sits on his bed just because his knees are shaky. “I thought… I think she’s hot too.”

Patrick is still for a moment watching him, before he smiles and approaches Art. “Right? I think it was the skirt. I mean those fucking legs.”

Art nods. He reaches for Patrick. His head is all fuzzy, his ears are ringing and Patrick straddles him on the bed. Art touches it through his boxers. It’s heavy and really, really full.

Patrick eases his fingers into Art’s hair. “And she’s blonde….I think I like blondes more than I should.”

Art grips him properly. It’s not just lengthy, it’s thick. The only thing he can think about is what it might feel like in— in— just in.

He rubs it up and down, like it’s his own. He’s never done anything like this before so he’s shocked when Patrick reacts, “Fuck,” he gasps, this quiet sound that makes Art shiver. Art grabs at the front of his boxers and eases them down, revealing a shock of dark hair and Patrick’s cock as it bobs forward. Circumcised, all pink, and all so real. So much bigger than the last time Art saw it like this.

He leans over and licks at the shaft.

“Whoa,” Patrick breathes and then he chuckles.

“I uh—‘m sorry,” Art looks up at him, anxious that maybe this is too much, too far. That he did something wrong.

“God Art. You’re so fucking…” Patrick breathes and settles down on Art’s lap. He takes Art’s face in his hands and kisses him. Art breathes in as their lips touch. It almost feels the way it felt that night. Something warm, almost on fire. Their chemistry overwhelming.

God, is he into this? Is he into Patrick? He thought it was all because of Tashi but this still feels good even when she’s not watching. And right now Art knows he wants to feel more of Patrick’s tongue. He wants to lick his cock again. His mouth hasn’t really stopped feeling wet, but the kiss feels good in spite of it…maybe because of it. He finds himself exploring every inch of Patrick’s mouth. His heart is still racing. He knows Patrick can feel how hard he is. The way he feels Patrick poking against his stomach. He grips it and gets excited when Patrick hums a pretty little moan.

Patrick eases them out of the kiss and looks at Art, fingers tangled in his hair. His cheeks are all flushed and rosey. His freckles are so vivid up close. He’s actually incredible. “You want to taste it again?” He asks, brushing up against Art’s lips.

“Mmhm,” Art nods.

Patrick takes a deep breath and he actually stands up in front of Art, so his cock is just right in front of Arts face. Art stares at him and nibbles on his thumb. Patrick’s got freckles on his tummy, just a couple spattered here and there. Art wants to lick those too.

He sits up and grips Patrick’s cock again. It feels so warm he must run at a thousand degrees. Art licks at him. He can see the way Patrick’s muscles tense. Hear his little breaths. Art starts licking more. Up and down, all over the length of him. He likes how it feels along his tongue. The heat of it, how soft and solid it is at the same time. He likes the taste and the smell, salty and heady. He sees the pearls leaking from the tip and tastes that. He really likes how it tastes so he sucks on the tip a little more. And it’s all punctuated by the way its affecting Patrick.

“Mm, fuck sweetheart, I know you want to explore but this feels insane.” Patrick breathes. “You’re gonna mess around and make me shove it in your mouth.”

Art feels warm at the way he says sweetheart. And the thought that Patrick might lose control over him.

He opens up and takes in more.

“Fuuckk,” Patrick sighs like he’s sinking into a warm bath. Art closes his eyes and runs his tongue over the length. He’s almost sure he can taste Patrick’s heart beating through it. It feels incredible and Patrick starts moaning for him which makes Art begin to lose himself in it. It’s too big to get it all inside at once but he tries to take a little more. His mouth is so wet that when he pulls back spit drips onto his thighs. He licks and then takes it in again, more this time.

“Oh shit,” Patrick gasps. He starts moving his hips like he can’t control himself and Art needs to grab on to keep him from shoving it too deep. But he likes the sliding feeling as it moves back and forth over his tongue. His own cock is aching. He feels like he might start pushing up against the air too. It’s so hot how he’s the one doing this to Patrick. It’s all him. His mouth. His tongue.

“Can you look at me?” Patrick gasps.

Art hums and looks up as it’s sliding out of his mouth, he takes a small breath before taking it back in again but his mouth starts filling immediately. Art feels it hot and thick slipping down his throat and he starts coughing. Which makes it start spilling everywhere, dripping off his lips and Patrick’s still coming so Art licks around the tip to try and taste it.

“No… wait, fuck, fuck… that’s too sensitive just… relax,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. He pulls his shorts back up and stumbles to sit on the bed next to him. He rubs his thumb over Art’s messy lips, Art licks at it and Patrick smiles letting him suck it for a minute before pulling it away and sucking it into own mouth. “Come here.” He rubs his thighs.

Art stares at him for a minute and then moves to straddle him. “Sit,” Patrick says, softly.

Art settles on his lap.

“Have you ever done that before?” Patrick asks, rubbing him over his boxers.

“No, is it okay?” Art asks, his voice a little hoarse.

“So fucking okay,” Patrick says and he starts kissing him immediately. It feels so satisfying, rubbing his tongue along Patricks after having a mouth full of him. He feels Patrick’s fingers ease into his boxers, gripping his cock where Patrick starts jerking him off properly. That combined with the stimulation from the kissing makes Art finish embarrassingly quickly all over Patrick’s fingers and in his shorts.

“Mm I need another cigarette,” Patrick laughs, licking his fingers and gazing at Art.

Art swallows hard, mildly panicked now that he’s back in his right mind. He climbs off of Patrick’s lap.

“What?” Patrick asks. ”And don’t say sorry.”

Art bites his tongue and takes a deep breath. “I think I drank too much.”

Patrick grins. “I don’t know. You kinda spilled some of it,” he gestures to Art’s lap, a bit of pearly liquid settled there.

“That’s not funny,” Art says, biting down on a smile.

“Oh it’s really funny.” Patrick says, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?” Art asks. Strangely enough he just kinda wants to be near him.

“I’m gonna wash my hands,” he says. “And clean up a bit.”

Art bites his lip.

“You want to come?”

Art nods and gets to his feet. “I’ll just brush my teeth and um… change my…” he gestures vauguely.

Patrick smirks and beckons for Art to lead the way. “So,” Patrick says. “Where do you wanna go tomorrow night?”

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Been thinking this a while but

You ever think about why the House and King in SASASAaP is so much worse than it is in ISaT?

Like, at first I put it down to just 'different timelines/different worlds' but the more I think about it, the more I've realized it is very much the same world and King and the difference specifically lies with the two game's respective Siffrins.

Why the House is so different: In Act 5 of ISaT when Sif 2.0 is running around losing his mind, the House very clearly warps around him. At first this seems to be just Sif's perception of events but when the friends come to rescue him, they bring up that the rooms were warped around, which means that Sif's Wish Craft doesn't just warp time but also space. Because ISaT Sif on some level didn't want the loops to end, the House grew longer, pathways stopped making sense, they were lead to every room of the house where they had any kind of precious memory with their family (but notably not the rock trap room) etc...

And clearly the same thing is happening to the House in SASASAaP, the difference is Loop/OG's mindset: They want to get through the house as fast as possible without 'distractions' like the very helpful Hidden Library they don't know exists but at the same time they dread the king (dread their friends dying over and over and over) so the path is short and free of bosses (including those 'Nostalgia' star crest Sadnesses), but full of time consuming and tricky puzzles to delay them -even just a bit longer- from what they see as the inevitable end. ...Also the path no longer requires the Keyknife and OG Sif gets outright angry at the Change Statue when the others pray at it so make of that what you will.

Ok, so the Houses are affected by Sif's mental state, but what about the King? The King is a totally different kettle of fish. He very much is not effected by the respective Sifs' Wish Craft but he can pick up on it. And well, how does he react in ISaT when he realizes Siffrin 2.0 is using Wish Craft?

... *Thinks about a hand, squeezing*

So yeah. My theory for why the King is so much worse, especially in the Perfect Route in Start Again is simple: Loop/OG Sif had been looping so long that their reek of Wish Craft's sweet smell was basically covering the whole party and the King, not knowing who to torture directly, responds by trying to kill them all especially horribly, especially on the 'Perfect' route where Sif likely continues hiding their looper status even as they are dying. ...Trying to mentally break them just as he tries to break Siffrin 2.0 in ISaT.

...Which is also why he doesn't auto kill everyone in the 'True' route - because that's the route Sif gives up pretending they're not a mess, meaning the King can identify that Sif is the Wish Crafter by the party's concern for them and their lack of reaction (much like the King did in ISaT), can see that Siffrin is already breaking, and thus being the 'merciful ruler' he is, decides to toy with them a bit, only going for the killing blow when he gets lower on health and starts getting concerned he might lose (which in turn means most of his attention in the fight was on the clearly not ok Sif, the party likely noticed and that's probably why Isabeau was able to jump in and block the King's fatal attack in time).

So um. YEAH. That's my thoughts on SASASAaP's King; he's the exact same as ISaT's King the only difference is that by the time OG Sif reached him the first time, they'd already looped a horrific amount of times and reeked so strong of Wish Craft that the King never even entertained the 'talk them down' facade and went straight for the kill/'torture them into submission' option every time.

Not sure these details matter too much really but I figure it might be helpful to all the Loop lovers out there making wonderful fanfics to consider (circumstances Odile can theorise about if Loop ever gives her enough hints to try, perhaps?) so... yeah. Hope my thoughts were interesting and would like to hear your thoughts on the stuff I didn't manage to figure out like the skill differences between the two parties, and various people frozen in the House having different pronouns and things (currently going with: Loop/OG Sif is not really listening to anything and is possibly misremembering details they don't care about for the later but the former is very much 'I know this is probably because refined mechanics but what if-?!' area for me and I'd love to see in-setting reasoning for it) <3

Edit: Realized I forgot to mention a thing: A sweet scent is never brought up in SASASAaP probably because that might've been a later addition to the plot but I like to think it's more because everyone in the prologue is just so used to it at this point that the party are putting it down to being part of the 'King altered' House while OG Siffrin is completely numb to it at this point, and the King's not interested in talking so... yeah. No one brings it up. ...Might also explain why Bonnie doesn't offer the Melanga fritters: the sweet scent could potentially alter the taste (and also they're not 100% sure Sif likes them) so instead they offer sweets like the candy and Palmiers that would be less effected, the burnt samosas which are 'already bad' and the fish head which probably tastes so strong that Bonnie's less worried about it's taste being masked. But that's just my spitballing for excuses so hope that's helpful for anyone wanting to use this info? XD

[katyawriteswhump]

top of the world, steddie microfic

For @steddiemicrofic May prompt ‘Top’.

Rating: T  CW: None WC: 510  Tags: kid fic, flashback, established Steddie, mild angst.

Inspired by a discord plot bunny from @bananahoneycomb that I've totally not done justice to (where steddie have been dating for a while before they realize they once knew each other before. ) Thank you anyway <3

... 

Eddie’s gotten Steve squished between him and a tree, and they’re kissing each other stupid. When they break apart—breathing is tragically necessary—Eddie glances to the treetops to snatch a giddy, Is this real? moment. Steve dabs his tongue around kiss-swollen lips and leans in to start the kiss over.

Eddie’s still staring upward: “Holy shit!”

“What is it?”

“I remember this exact tree. Some kid I once knew got stuck in it.”

Steve glances skyward, tenses, colour draining from his face. “Jesus, Munson—that was me.”

…

1977

“Johnny?”

On hearing his friend shouting from the treetop, Eddie cringed. If he’d known he’d pass the best month ever with this kid, he wouldn’t have lied about his name.

“I’m at the top, Johnny! C’mon!”

“Still gonna pass, Han. Not a huge fan of heights.”

“Wuss.”

“Ever coming down?”

Eddie waited. And waited. Han shouted, “Sure you won’t climb up?”

“Look, you win. You’re the dude. I’m a candy-ass dweeb.”

“Johnny, please.” Han’s voice turned wobbly. “You gotta help me. I’m stuck.”

…

“Hey, kid?” A voice rumbled from the bottom of Steve’s tree. “It’s Deputy Hopper. Got a ladder here. You think you can climb down?”

Steve’s arms and legs ached from clinging to the branches. He’d been AWESOME going up. Descending, he’d peeped downward, totally frozen up.

“N-not sure.” Steve sniffled. “C-can’t move.”

He daren’t even wipe his tears. This epically sucked. Being rescued like a stranded kitten was humiliating. Knowing he’d made a dork of himself in front of Johnny hurt worse.

“It’s Han, right?” called Hopper, ascending the ladder. Steve cringed. The dumbass things he’d done to impress Johnny! Then again, who wouldn’t want to be Han Solo for a summer? “You local?”

“It’s not Han. It’s Steve Harrington.” He bit his wibbly lower lip. When his parents discovered he’d been playing with strange kids in the forest, he’d be in deep shit. Right now, he didn’t care. “I want to go home.”

…

Eddie and Steve start garbling as one:

“Seriously?” Steve plants his hands furiously on his hips. “You deserted me up the stupid tree! I never saw you again!”

“Got help, didn’t I? I was scared too. When I knew you were safe, I basically fled—inherited my Dad’s healthy suspicion of the police, okay? Anyhow, you never showed again, either.”

“I was grounded till fall!”

“My mom moved away for work! I came back to Hawkins, years later, and then… I guess I had tats, the rocker hair. I looked for you, but… You used to be blonder, right, Han?”

“Yeah, Johnny?”

“Wanted to be Johnny Rotten—my short-lived Sex Pistols phase. Felt bad for lying. I didn’t expect to like you.”

“Well, I did all that shit to impress you. I guess you were my first crush. I was miserable for ages when you literally vanished.”

“Back at ya!”

They glare. Eddie’s fingers return to the nape of Steve’s neck, stroking tenderly. “Guess this makes us childhood sweethearts. How vomit-inducingly sweet.”

Steve huffs, rolls his eyes, and they launch into another blisteringly hot make-out session.

[quills-of-freedom]

Short story ~

First time with Reiner Braun 🌺

Female-bodied reader X Reiner Braun

Reiner had been acting strange since the two of you shared an interrupted kiss a week ago - and now you're partnered together on wilderness training. What could possibly go wrong?

Includes: Confession of love. 18+ only ~ fluff ~ smut

Reiner had been acting weird all day, but you couldn’t really blame him. The last time you were alone together, you'd ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. You hadn’t spoken about it since – You hadn’t really had the chance. Between training and having your classmates around, it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.

When Shadis announced that for this exam, you would be teamed up together, you both internally groaned.

You had another two years of training, and you were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. You'd both made sure that during the entire hike, you didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force you to talk about the inevitable subject of the heated kiss.

It was quite comical, actually.

Constant talking either about your task, your friends, or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to address it. The both of you just didn’t want to know the other's thoughts on the matter. You both had serious reservations about it; you were totally focused on training and not fooling around, unlike some others in their class.

And yet…

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on you since day one. The crush that, over the last twenty months, had developed into something a lot deeper. He’d kill for you. He thought about that only earlier when you had made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and you had found a good place to camp for the night… that was when things would inevitably go south.

“Hey Ba- uh, y/n?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue but also from what he had discovered in their shared backpack.

You were only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left your sweet lips. “Did you almost call me Bertolt?”

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.” “What is it?” You frown, heading over.

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack. “…We only have one tent.” You looked at him like he spoke another language. “So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”

I bet Jean would have loved that…

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone-induced erection.

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all. “Get over yourself.” You chuckle, nudging him playfully as you returned to what you were doing.

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time. He will not get any sleep – being so close to… you. Alone… Miles away from anyone. After you'd kissed. He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation. Reiner Braun was desperately in love with you and he was supposed to be keeping away. If you kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject you if you reciprocated his feelings, even in the slightest. Luckily, the kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how you truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face. His fingers clumsily began to fix things together; you already had the fire going and preparing dinner. His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get your famous, amazing cooking. Sasha had been furious he was paired with you. His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask you to marry him already.

“You need help?” your voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time. “Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.

Eventually, the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of you sitting by the fire after you'd eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased the two of you cosily, as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.” “I’m glad you liked it.” You beamed beautifully.

Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; You now began to feel weird about the intimate moment you'd had. It wasn’t very often you had time alone and your feelings for him remained the same since. The pair of you sat back, gazing up at the stars in comfortable silence.

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever,” You commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.

Another silence.

He noticed you had been pretty quiet since you began relaxing by the fire. You were wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now. Maybe he regrets it? You bite your lip at the thought, eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on you a hell of a lot and you resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same. Reiner noticed this.

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss?

Should he ask? There’s no way he would ever stand for you feeling down, let alone because of him.

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart. You flinch a little in surprise when he slowly crept his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across your fingers. He didn’t look at you though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you. You, however, assumed it was an accident.

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.

He took a deep breath.

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.

“Oh? I’m fine.” You lied.

He knew you were lying. He knew you too well.

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” You noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block the view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.” “R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated. He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for your lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot. As you go inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.

Sure enough, as you lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above your heads. You lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between you as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide. You had your limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when you camped out, you were freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, your body temperature would drop. Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel…

He’d been close to telling you a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before you shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time. You were just so… perfect. And he had to say something before Eren sinks his claws into you. It was evident how he felt about you, too. Heck, half the class had some sort of crush on you. Not only were you extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted you, but you were strong. Smart. Funny. Caring… His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about you in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried… I really did.

He glances back and that’s when he noticed you curled up in a ball, shivering. His eyebrows furrowed. “…You cold?” “Y-yeah.” He instantly turned onto his side to face you, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”

With a sigh, he sat up and began unzipping your sleeping bag. “What are you doing?” your teeth chatted. “Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.” You averted your eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. You knew he slept in his shorts. Your breath catches in your throat as he wraps his big, strong arms around you and pulling you back against his warm chest; heat rolling off him and encasing you like a huge bear was holding you. His scent rolled off him and embraces your sense of smell, relaxing you immediately. He kept his pelvis away from you, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling. “Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.

Your heart almost stops when his head rested and lay between your neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing your skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down your body to in-between your legs and seemed to just pool there. His brows furrowed behind you; inhaling the intoxicating scent of you silently. Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against you, he still felt so comfortable having you in his arms like this, like you were supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect you. To care for you. To love you. His mind flutters back to how he’d almost told you he loved you before. He’d hinted so hard but you just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell you. When he was around you, it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just… amazing. You made him laugh, he could tell you anything (almost) and you always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day.

But to him, the best part of it all was how excited you got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something I need to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time. Maybe it was being this close to you that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that you were facing away from him.

“Hm?” you hummed softly; your eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.

“…I love you.” That was it. It was out. There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered you both. He felt you tense in surprise, eyes flying open. You swivelled around to face him, eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception. But there wasn’t any. A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.

“I… I mean, you know –” he began before you silence him by pressing your lips against his. Both of your eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping your face, thrilled to be kissing you once more.

You pull away, your own pink hue colouring your face. “You… Love me?” you ask, voice soft and sweet.

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding. “ y/n, I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.” “…How crazy?” you teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession. He smirked. You know just how to make him comfortable. He grinned slyly, looking in your eyes. “Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.” You laugh beautifully, heart swelling with joy. Even that dumb little exchange, confirmed to you that you definitely felt the same.

“So, you don’t regret that kiss…?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and…. Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to your heart. “You… Wanna marry me?” you whisper, totally blown away by the intensity of this confession. “I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel… Sorry” “You know…” you whisper shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.” His eyes enlarged and his breath caught in his throat, causing him to cough. You let out a cute giggle. “That’s if… You’d want to.” You added adorably. “Are you sure?” he whispered, praying you would say yes. You nod in reply. “I want you, Reiner.” You breathe. “I love you too. I want… you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion. Elation. Excitement. Arousal. Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions. There’d been countless times he’s imagined you uttering those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock. He’d lost count of how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while you occupied his mind. But as his feelings for you deepened, they became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respects you too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes. “You won’t.” You shake your head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –” He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side. You let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste. He returned your laugh.

“Okay…” You muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as you begin to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag. All he could hear under the movement of you undressing yourself was his heart pounding in his head.

There’s no way this is real and happening.

His cock was already hard at the thought of you undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with you quickly washed away as you threw your clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.

“Alright… You can come back.” You inform him. At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to yours. His arm flinched, about to pull you back into his embrace but he hesitated. “Are… you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation. “Yes.” you giggled, nervously. His arms snaked around you, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze on your eyes as he pulls your now naked form against his.

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he feels your satin soft skin against his, bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and your lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. A gasp parts your lips as you feel, not only how hard he is, but how big.

“R-Reiner…” you couldn’t help but stammer, your face heating up as well as your insides. A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation.

He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating.

Your lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, fingers grazing across his scalp, your breathing heavy and needing. His arm snakes around your stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. You could feel it weeping against your flesh as it throbbed and danced against your lower stomach.

You pull back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one-time thing for me…”

He catches your gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” You smile - elated at his words as you return your kiss, hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. His mouth moves down to your neck, with slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electricity through your entirety.

Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” He groans, his large palm pushing your arm above your head as he hovers over you a little, his fingers interlocking with your own, still kissing you deeply.

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy-lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses you is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against yours, hands caressing your hair as he keeps himself steady over you, before gingerly rolling on top of you completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break you as you explore one another’s bodies, tongues entwining in a slow dance within your mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face.

The only sounds that could be heard were the kisses, whines and groans as well as your laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. He suddenly stops the kiss, placing his head against yours and rubbing his large thumb across your cheek, back and forth.

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to you that he really was just so happy you felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” “I want to…” You reply, the snake coiled within wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. Really, make me yours…"

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God, it was hard for him not to touch you between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that you were sure.

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down your stomach to your pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down your clitoris and to your soaked lips. You both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against your most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, your thick slick was heavenly.

“Is this all for me…?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke you. You nod, biting your lip. He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” “I don’t care.” You groan, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss.

As much as he wanted to enter you, he refused to allow himself yet. Instead, his lips trail down your body, your eyes locked onto his broad back, flexing with every tiny movement as his head moved, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from your mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when you'd made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. His kisses remained so gentle, so tender…

He lets out a gasp as his hot breath caresses your skin - it was satin soft and felt better than he'd ever imagined. “Reiner…" You breathe involuntarily, fingers running through your own hair. A groan vibrated his entirety hearing you say his name in such a way. Your tone, desperate. Wanting him. Needing him. All things he'd day-dreamed about for two whole years. And it was actually happening. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was going to savour this moment. He leans back with shaking breaths, his fingertips gently grabbing your calf and lifting up your leg, his eyes not leaving yours as he grazes his lips down your inner thigh. Before you knew it, your back was arched in such wonderful pleasure as he leans down and encases his mouth over your bloom.

You watch the muscles in his shoulders and back flex under his skin as he slowly and sensually makes out with your slit, placing your leg up over his shoulder. "Ah~~" You melodically sing, eyes clasping shut. He grunts into you, the vibration of his vocals only adding to how good it all felt.

He tries to ignore his aching cock, now so hard it was dancing in rhythm of his pulse, begging for some friction as he watched the love of his life bare and vulnerable in the most beautiful way for him.

His tongue pin-points your bundle of nerves and he begins to flick it and roll his warm, wet muscle against it.

The deep cherry hue across your cheeks darkened further as he relentlessly invades your most sensitive spot.

How can this feel so good…? Your legs began to shake and you try your best to stifle your moans, biting down on your finger.

Reiner continues, slowly massaging the insides of your legs as he works you, his brows still furrowed and desperate, eyes now closed as he drinks in the moment. Something primal was taking over him and it was all so new. This was his woman. He'd die for you. He was made to protect you, make you happy and feel good. He whimpers into you, unable to handle all of these feelings and emotions.

He begins to rock his head up and down, his mind flashing of how jealous every single one of his friends would be if they knew. But he wasn't going to tell them. This moment was sacred to him. Your fingers run through his hair as it felt as though you were being pushed higher and higher.

"R-reiner…" You whimper as you reach realms of pleasure you didn't even think were possible. He picks up his pace thinking about how he hopes and prays you would use him for all of your needs in the future. If you're ever feeling fired up, he'd be more than happy to just have you ride his face into bliss and nothing else.

The golden moment approaches as he relentlessly keeps flicking his tongue until you go higher and higher and… Your legs tense and begin to shake, eyes close as you rides your huge orgasm through heavens gate.

Shit… Reiner thinks, totally now boarderlining into feral territory of arousal, having his love come undone into his mouth.

He slows to a stop when he feels your legs relaxing, his mouth not stopping and trailing kisses hungrily back up to your stomach, breast, neck and lips.

"You're so perfect." He whispers heavy lidded between kisses and burying his head into your neck. "I love you. God, I love you…"

Tears pricked both sets of eyes at how heightened and intense everything was.

"Make me yours…" You whisper back before nipping his earlobe with your teeth. He instantly returns to your face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft.

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. You nod. He lines up his gleaming, pulsing head before pushing gently, your tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, your finger returning to your teeth to stifle how amazing you feel.

He pushes harder. “ Y-y/n…" He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion.

He gently removes your hand from your mouth. "Don't try to be quiet… I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I can make you feel…" He pushes again, a little firmer, his head popping in past the first hurdle. You cry out in surprise, pleasure and a little bit of pain.

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. He paws your head gently. “Yeah…” He pushes again, your tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - your ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before, as he jitters to a stop at the hilt.

“Fuck…” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again.

He's always tried his best not to curse around you, but this time it just poured out of him from how good it all felt. It felt like he had to fight the urge to burst into tears of joy just from how amazing it all felt. Encased snuggly, deeply inside of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching you, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against your g-spot as he trembles above you. With each slow thrust, your pleasure being pushed to an impossible new high, your nails sinking into his large back as you clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of your orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were you and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers.

His fat head that curved up slightly kept hitting a spot you didn't even know you had, making each slow drag of his king cock feel even better. The full feeling of him was beautiful, his short pubic hair also friction against your previously licked sweet spot.

Reiner didn't know what to do - it was all too much but in a good way. He'd never felt such pleasure like it and his hands roam your body; breasts, ass, hips, legs, face… he's spoilt for choice.

He pushed himself right in and stopped, his heavy breathing steaming up the air as he presses his forehead against yours. Your tunnel spasmed and clenched around him, massaging and milking him with strength.

"Urgh…" He groaned loudly as he feels your insides gripping him and trying to pull him in further. "S-so beautiful…" He runs his fingers through your hair gazing into your eyes. He pulls back and thrusts, this time more firmly. Your breasts bounced and eyes closed, your lips parting.

"Look at me…" He husks.

Your eyes open and lock onto his in a haze.

"I want you to keep looking at me…" he swallows hard as he painfully slowly drags himself out, before pushing in again.

"Ah ~ ! Reiner ! I can't take it, it's too good…" You beg, not really knowing exactly what you're begging for.

"Let me do this…" he pulls out slowly. "Whenever you need me to… please…" He thrusts harder.

"Ah ~!" His hand gently takes your chin. "Promise me you'll let me fuck you forever."

Thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Reiner, I - I'm going to…"

“Oh, baby…” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good…”

“Reiner!” You sob hysterically as you snap, coming undone around him as your legs tremble and head throws back. As you unravel around him, your name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last, as his thick and large cum shot explodes inside of you, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver and eyes cross.

He leaves himself buried inside of you as he catches his breath, desperate whimpers escaping his vocal chords as he plants frantic kisses against your neck and cheek.

You stare into the void, the violent after shocks of your orgasm sending shivers throughout your entire body, the spasms of your insides squeezing and releasing Reiner's slowly softening dick.

"That was... amazing..." You hear him from somewhere below you as you're still floating in the clouds of satisfied haze. "I - I told you I wouldn't last long."

You silence him by running your fingers through his hair.

It didn't matter.

You were together now and nothing was going to take this high away from you.

[hyufucks]

STARBOY .ᐟ

★ STARRINGS: choi yeonjun and fem!reader. ft choi soobin

! cw – jealousy, possessiveness, yeonjun is aggressive, fingering, unp. sex.

playlist while your read this (click on 'playlist')

2ND PART OF HOW MANY SECRETS CAN U KEEP?

yeonjun's lifestyle is not the typical cliche where he's a bad boy and his life depend on fucking every girl and living from party to party (the latter may have been a bit cliche, but trust me, he dosen't go out every weekend).

you know his reputation, and you know it all too well.

you know he's a top student with outstanding grades, a star athlete, the favourite of the teachers and, above all: a jealous boy.

he has a thing about being the centre of attention, your centre of attention. if you're not with him, if you're not seeing him, if you're not talking exclusively about him and how hot he is, he'll get jealous (too much, i'd say).

several times you met his dark eyes and chilling gaze, almost so sharp that he would effortlessly slit your jugular for the simple fact that you were talking to a boy other than him.

he can't stand not being the starboy, a nickname that echoes through the hallways and teacher's room, but which he only prefers to hear from you.

but what he hates the most is seeing you next to choi soobin: his rival.

soobin is a friendly, smart, shy and funny guy. you don't understand why yeonjun hates him so much and why he wants to keep you away from him all over the coast.

but yeonjun knows things that you might not, and maybe those things are the reasons why he spits shit at soobin.

right?

yeonjun's soft kisses on your neck made you lose your sanity, his cold hands provoking a thousand sensations on your warm skin as he caressed your thighs and waist. his fingers nimbly unbuttoned the buttons of your shorts, and just as he was about to remove your underwear, your phone started ringing.

you reluctantly pushed the dark haired guy away to pick up your phone, quickly sitting up in bed when you saw who was calling you.

'who the fuck is calling you?' your partner asked, somewhat annoyed that you had interrupted what you were about to do.

'oh, it's soobin. i'm supposed to do investigation work with him, remember?' you said with total impunity, as if you had completely forgotten yeonjun's feelings for the poor blond boy.

you saw him tense his jaw and close his eyes as soon as he heard his name leave your lips 'why are you doing it with him? weren't there other options at that stupid hippie college?'

you laughed before quickly picking up the phone, motioning yeonjun to silence.

'hi! soobin, it's so good to hear your voice again' you looked at the dark haired, looking provocation.

and you've done it, because never in your life have you seen him settle between your legs so quickly, taking off your underwear and looking at you like a ferocious animal stalking his prey.

'yes, hello, i say the same thing' his soft voice provoked a certain tenderness in you, unlike yeonjun who's voice only made you wet.

oh, and speaking of the king of rome; his fingers didn't miss the opportunity to caress your clitoris in a circular way. you saw him wet his fingers with his own saliva before inserting two of them into your sweet spot.

you muffled a moan, but it was useless as the boy on the other the line quickly noticed that something was wrong.

'hey, are you okay?' he asked confused and somewhat worried 'i thought i heard something' how cute.

yeonjun brought his face closer to your neck, biting and sucking gently 'put him on speaker' he said with his characteristic deep voice when he was in that mood.

and of course you did it.

'y-yeah, it's just that i'm a little shaken up from today's practice, you know, cheerleading stuff' you lied mercifully, because clearly you wouldn't say that there's a guy fingering you and that guy just happens to be choi yeonjun.

'on a saturday at ten at night?' you heard him laugh softly. looks like he's caught you red handed 'anyway, 'i wanted to know if we could get together monday morning to discuss about the work'.

'of course, at my house or at yours?'

'in mine. it's closer to your college, so i could take-' you couldn't hear him finish. yeonjun took your phone and ended the call suddenly, throwing it angrily on the bed.

before you could say anything to him, he grabbed your wrists with both hands and pushed them over your head, pressing his body closer to yours, preventing you from moving.

'what the fuck do you think you're doing?' you've seen him angry before, but he never got physical like now.

'what are you talking about? he just wants to be nice' he clicked his tongue and sighed heavily.

'yes, of course, and i was born yesterday' he replied with notorious sarcasm 'for you that's being nice, but for me that means he wants to fuck you in his flat and in his damn car'.

you widened your eyes in surprise and almost shocked, feeling a pressure in your chest that you had never experienced with him before.

'what the hell is wrong with you, yeonjun? you can't just think the worst of others. not everyone wants to wet their dick like you'.

'and you can't always think the best of others and believe that i'm the only one who wants to push you against the mattress, damn it' he spat angrily.

he quickly released you and moved away from you, walking away from your bed, walking out of the room. you got up and followed him to the front door.

'where do you think you're going?' you asked behind him, placing a hand on the door.

'finish this on your own, maybe thinking about soobin will help you cum quickly' he pushed you almost roughly and left your flat, slamming the door shut.

'damn son of a bitch'.

almost a week since you and yeonjun last saw each other. you only exchanged glances in the hallways. sometimes you would see him train secretly, and you knew that he did it too.

but no one dared to approach.

throughout that week, you were with soobin and practicing tonight's performance together with your team. tonight, yeonjun and soobin were going to play on different teams.

and you were just afraid.

you looked in the toillet mirror one last time before heading out to the basketball hall, noticing that your ribbon was scruffy and your lipstick was not applied correctly.

the sound of the door opening and the familiar voice caused you to jump a little in place.

'what do you want, choi yeonjun?' you asked without even looking at him at all, you only saw his body resting comfortably on the cubicle doors in the mirror, arms crossed and with that gigantic smile of a mischievous cat.

he looks so attractive like that, that for a moment you forgot what an idiot he is.

'i just wanted to know if you were going to cheer for me tonight' he replied calmly, moving closer to you.

'and what if i don't? are you going to corner me like that day?'

he bit his lips lightly and then licked it. his big hands took your waist and he forced you to turn around, being face to face.

'come on, doll, we can't spend our whole lives pretending we don't exist'

he leaned down to your neck and placed little kisses there, just the way you always liked 'you're so hot when you're angry'.

you sighed and leaned your neck to give him better access, surrendering to him and his charms.

his lips touched yours, joining in a needy, hungry kiss. your hands tugged at his hair, making him moan against your mouth.

he lifted you over the sink and you quickly wrapped your legs around him, feeling the bulge of him pressing against your pussy.

you moved as best you could, trying to create friction between you and him. yeonjun laughed in between the kiss.

'you're itching to fuck already, mmh?' you nodded 'ask me and i'll grant you the wish'.

you squeezed your eyes and sighed 'please, fuck me'.

he laughed again against your lips 'wish granted'.

you gasped when he practically ripped off your underwear and pulled you even closer to him. he removed his shorts and boxer, stroked his base a few times before fully entering and thrusting inside of you with a single thrust.

you heard him moan in relief once he hit rock bottom 'god, i missed this pussy so much'.

you leaned back a bit, touching your back against the mirror. you grabbed his hair again and pulled him close to you, connecting your lips against his.

you bit his lip as his fingers moved in a circular motion over your clit, pushing three fingers inside.

kisses distributed on your collarbones and chest almost make you explode.

the way he would go in and out would drive you crazy, how he would go deep and then not.

yeonjun held you tightly, hugging his body to yours. that is what definitely made you start moving desperately, chasing your orgasm.

'aw, are you about to cum?' he gently caressed your cheek as if you were an adorable little animal 'tell me, did you cum thinking about that idiot the other day?'

you denied 'no, i thought of you'.

he half smile, satisfied with your answer 'who makes you cum?'

'you' muttered.

'say it louder' he grabbed you again and pushed himself hard 'I'm not listening, baby'.

'you' another push 'you' another one 'god, you'.

and you clung to him as if your life depended on it, moaning in his ear, feeling safe.

as it has always been.

the heavy eddies and knots appeared, the approaching heat and the familiar feeling in your belly took you over.

and he kissed you like he never did before.

and you felt something you had never felt before.

he hugged you tenderly and you could feel his heart beating like you had never heard it before, smelling his perfume in a new way and from a different point of view.

and when he moved away, you were already missing him.

'make yourself pretty, but not so cute because you're going to distract me' he laughed coquettishly, winking at you before leaving.

another time you would have rolled your eyes, but this time your heart jumped and your cheeks turned pink and filled with an unknown felling.

you also went out into the hallway and saw him leave, turning his back on you.

from not-so distant you heard his faithful devotees who were waiting for him, who received him with his characteristic nickname and insane applause,

starboy, starboy, starboy!

and you just smiled, knowing that that name would never be the same for him if you weren't the one who told him.

and you knew that it will never change.

© hyufucks, 2023.

[evianlovesblue]

Scott Pilgrim is (bi-curiously) Confused

(scollace smut one shot)

-

i'm totally new to posting things on here so if i did it wrong. oh well

-

-

scott pilgrim is (bi-curiously) confused

It's been a little while since Scott has been with someone, since Envy. naturally, that means Scott hasn't gotten laid. This has become a problem.

The time is exactly 11:43 pm. Scott Pilgrim and his cool gay roommate Wallace are lying side by side on their ratty shared futon. The only thing going through Scott's mind at the moment is how hot Wallace has seemed recently. Why can't he stop thinking about him? Scott's not gay. At least, he doesn't think he is. "This must be because i'm too pent up. I haven't had sex in a long enough time." Scott decides. As he continues to think about doing dirty things under the sheets with Wallace, which in his mind is So Not Totally Not Gay, Wallace groans.

"Scott, I can tell you're still awake, you don't fall asleep on your back. what is it, guy?" Wallace mumbles into his pillow, eyes still shut. Wallace doesn't actually expect to get an answer, so he tries to go back to sleep. Minutes of silence go by until Scott sighs,

"Wallace, what's it like to have sex with a guy?"

"...Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you thinking about gay sex."

"Just... thoughts."

Wallace sits up and turns to look at Scott, who's got his right arm across his eyes, flushed from the embarrassment of this conversation.

"What do you want to know?" Wallace questions, eyeing Scott's demeanor.

"Ummm, I don't know, does it... feel good?"

"People wouldn't have it if it didn't feel good, guy."

"Right, right..."

"Why are you asking?" Wallace says with a hint of a flirty attitude.

"Dunno... just.. curious."

"Mhm." Wallace hums in response, raising a brow. An idea crosses Wallace's mind, but he decides not.

"Wallace?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we, ummm..." Scott stutters, feeling a heat in his crotch from his lewd thoughts.

"Spit it out, Scott."

"Um, okay.. so could you... I don't know.. uhmmmm, could you maybe kiss m-"

Wallace cut his sentence off by pressing his lips against Scott's, biting slightly on his lower lip. Scott immediately pushes back into the kiss, slipping his tongue into Wallace's mouth. Short, muffled moans come from behind Scott's lips as he runs his hands through Wallace's hair. Wallace pulls back from the kiss to look at Scott.

"How far do you want this to go?"

"Umm, like. the farthest?"

"You want to have sex with me?" Scott feels his cock twitch at Wallace's words.

"Maybe.." Scott mutters, looking away. Wallace gets up to straddle Scott, pinning his hands above his head to the futon.

"Tell me if i need to stop, okay guy?"

"..M-mhm.." Scott hums back, embarrassed but aroused by the position they are in. Wallace leans down to Scott's neck, kissing and sucking on his sensitive spots. Scott starts to whimper at this, unable to cover his face from his hands being pinned above his head.

"You make some pretty cute noises, Scottie." Wallace whispers in his ear, smirking. Scott blushes hard from Wallace's words, starting to get really turned on. Wallace continues to suck on Scott's neck until he feels something hard against his ass.

"Are you hard?" Wallace questions, the side of his mouth crooking into a smirk.

"Uh, no." Scott lies.

"Sure, guy." Wallace moves down to unbutton Scott's pants and pulls down his boxers. To his surprise, he was met with 7 inches, completely shaved with a glistening pink tip, leaking precum already.

"P-please, I need you Wallace..." Scott manages to mumble, flipping a switch inside of Wallace. He wipes the precum from Scott's tip all over his hands and starts to stroke him while giving the tip kitten licks.

"F-fuck Wallace.." Scott moans, whimpering at each movement he makes.

"Be a good boy and don't cum until i say so, alright Scottie?" Wallace says in a seductive voice. Scott nods his head shyly. Whimpers and moans fill the room of their apartment, mainly coming from Scott.

"'m gonna get lube" Wallace says as he gets up. Scott whines brattily for being left on the futon.

"You sure you wanna do this, guy?" Wallace questions, and Scott gives him a look of approval. He puts lube on two of his fingers, massaging them onto Scott's ass. Scott whimpers from the foreign feeling as Wallace pushes his fingers in.

"Mmmphh.. Wallace..-" Scott moans as Wallace scissors him.

"You ready?"

"..Yes."

Wallace lines the tip of his cock up to Scott's ass and slowly pushes it in.

"A-ah.. Wallace this hurts."

"That's because you're so tight, guy."

"Whatever.."

"I'm gonna start moving now, okay?"

"...Be gentle."

"I will, Scottie."

Wallace starts moving slowly in and out, breathing steadily. as he starts to pick up the pace, Scott starts to whimper, mumbling "Wallace, Wallace" over and over.

"Y-you're right this f-feels so... so good.~" Scott moans as Wallace thrusts in and out of him.

"G-good boy Scott,." Wallace huffs, moaning every time he pushes back into Scott.

"Say it.. say it again.." Scott whines, close to his climax.

"You're such a g- good boy Scottie." Wallace pants, movements becoming sloppier as he reaches his limit.

"F-fuck oh my god.~" Scott moans out. Wallace bites his lip hard, stifling a moan. The two of them both sprawl out on the futon, breathing heavily.

"Wallace?"

"Yeah Scott?"

"Am I gay now?"

"I think this just makes you bisexual Scott."

"There's more than two options?!"

[static-sulker]

I might maybe possibly be thinking of a modern fantasy apartment AU with the main crew. All of them being stupid ass magical roommates without tadpoles...Just letting them be happy.

Also my Tav is in there because...yeah. His name is Silk and he is such a silly guy ridden with the 'tism. Drow Warlock who sees the good in everything... Such a...A yeah...

Little notes i've been conjuring about this...

Gale and Wyll made a chore chart in the kitchen, with little magnets for each person. Astarion regularly will switch his magnet in the middle of the night just so he doesn't have to do the fucking dishes and EVERYBODY knows besides Gale and Wyll. Wyll is on the fence about it, but Gale wholeheartedly believes when Astarion lies through his teeth about never having done it.

Karlach and Halsin go on grocery runs in the mornings. Karlach goes for the running part, while Halsin comes along for the run as well as to stop Karlach from buying the most horrendous shit. The one time she went alone very early in the houses lifespan, Karlach bought like 3 bags of go-gurt, about 50 dollars worth of cheap booze, and a big piece of raw steak to cook. She burnt said steak. But she's trying now, at least.

The team will take turns every now and then to get Astarion blood from themselves as it gives Astarion a lot more energy then normal settling blood. BUT they do have "blood bags" that they set up in the kitchen fridge whenever they know nobody with the right blood is gonna be available to give him blood if he needs it. They TOTALLY get it by legal means and it TOTALLY doesn't melt Astarions heart that they try so hard to help him.

Silk finds a stray dog in the alleys of their building one day when they went out to work (they do freelance art with their magic for like startups, it's fun). After casting "speak with animals" they find out this dog, Scratch, is waiting for his owner to return. His owner was killed out by some gnoll gang downtown. When they come back from work later in the evening, they find Scratch again, still waiting. Long story short, Silk adopts scratch in their very strict "no pets" rule of an apartment. And don't get me STARTED on the owlbear cub. Lae'zel and Halsin were out, originally to get some spare lightbulbs and tools for the apartment and find the little critter getting chase by some goblins in some backalley parking lot. Lae'zel plans to ignore the thing, but Halsin assists the cub. Once done, they plan to leave, before the cub begins to follow them home. Halsin names the cub "Vauva" and Lae'zel soon becomes SO attached.

They have presentation nights, where everybody makes slideshows about literally anything. Last week, Gale made one about the conflicts of archmages and the idea of apprentices. Karlach then made a tier list on the worst monsters ever documented, Lae'zel helped with that one. Shadowheart made this whole discussion over her favorite and least favorite teas (she fuckin' hates green tea for like no reason). Wyll made one on Baldurs Gate history. Astarion made a smash or pass list of all of the political leaders in Baldurs Gate. Silk made a presentation on the weirdest underdark myths and rumors they have heard on their time above ground. Halsin presented (well more like persuaded) on getting a new herb for their kitchens row of herbs and spices set on the windowsill. They have too many and he got like 5 minutes of stand time before Karlach kicked him off.

Lae'zel hate-cleans when shes mad at somebody in the apartment. Basically, she cleans every room in the entire fucking apartment BESIDES any of said "victims" parts of the house. One time, she got into a fight with Shadowheart and threw all of the dirty laundry she had so carefully put into the laundry room back into her room just all over the fucking place. If shes calm though, the house is normally fairly clean under her and Wyll's watch. It's one of the only things they agree on.

Because every bg3 piece of content I make loops back to bloodweave, I think they would have a little reading time together. Like whenever everybody is settling down for the night and they are up for it, they take this lovely window seat couch/bed thing in Gales room and just take out a good bottle of wine and a book for each of them and just read until late. They originally did this separately, but when the two find themselves both in the living room at 2 in the morning reading, they decide in silent agreement to make it routine. They sometimes read in silence, other times just talking absently about anything. Shadowheart finds out first by coming in to Gales room late one night to return a book he lent to her to find the two both passed out, tucked away in the window, books still in hand before they accidentally passed out. Shadowheart then teases them with photos the morning after.

Karlach and Lae'zel both do these really intense shadowboxing exercises in Karlachs room whenever the two have freetime and enough energy to go through with it. It's a heated bitter rivalry in the eyes of the githyanki, but Karlach just loves a little workout with her friend! Lae'zel does enjoy the workouts, as she doesn't get many options to really let off ALL of her steam, even if she works at a gym as a personal trainer. She is constantly told shes a bit TOO rough with the clients so she has to "tone it down". So it's nice.

Astarion and Shadowheart have girls nights. Like they paint each others nails and watch like twilight together (ironically they get so heated at how wrong they get it. "Just another human writer writing about shit she doesn't get" is used a lot in their rewatches). They also talk about like...their feelings. But it's very sparse and done so by a copious amount of wine (wine with a heavy amount of blood on the side for Astarion). Both of them never got to have moments like this in their childhoods, of just pure calmness and domestic childhood enjoyment, so they make due with what they can.

BY THE HELLS I JUST REALIZED I WROTE THIS MUCH. DAMN OKAY.

[simpingforcys]

OH, I ASKED THIS ONCE BEFORE, BUT I WILL ASK AGAIN, what's your favorite thing about turbo/king candy

I'm answering this in the late ass time of night but it's the perfect time let's gooo

I. Love. Everything. About. This. Man. I love him so so much. His style, his laugh, his voice, UGH HIS VOICE, movements, goofyness silly, racing, the JOY he takes in everything he does, his SILLY GOOFYNESS AAAAA, the way his crown always stays on his head no matter what, the BOUNCYness of his body at the smallest movement like a jelly, his adorable self, his UNHINGED SELF, the hint of growl in his voice talking about his possession of the game, his effortless and overall LOVE for racing, his eyes constricting/become smaller when he's absolutely pissed tf off, the authority persona he can pull off even in his short ass 3"0 self still so imposing (pant pant), the little patting he does to sour bill like pls my king do to me pls, the manipulative lil SHIT, but he's an entertaining manipulative lil shit, the way he so effortlessly lies through his teeth and makes it believable, the way he can make others do what he wants on just words alone without the need of force cuz he KNOWS physically he can't do SHIT and I fucking LOVE silver tongue characters HHHHHHHHH, speaking of- that tongue THO?? boy what that DO, that lisp I find so so hot just hhhh sir how dare you, I love the sparkles that always just follow him, on his clothes, his kart, his throne, just ALL of him, the way he just HAS FUN with everything he does (not even MENTIONING THE CYBUG EVERYTHING), the added helmet and gloves when he's racing that even Turbo didn't use??? the bow tie twirl it does when he's surprised, he MUST have coded that in, and oh- KNOWING HOW TO FKING CODE, whether someone told him or he learned on his own, being able to manipulative an entire world for YOU, creating a new model/body for himself, like it's TERRIFYING to know your entire existence and even YOUR OWN MIND can be manipulated from a couple of cables just below you and he fully took advantage of that, I love everything of his design, the purple sparkling coat, the candy wrapper bow tie, the heart designed hand cuffs, candy cane neck collar, the POOFY pants<3333, the crown with the balls that look like Ferrero Rocher chocolates, the chocolate dipped design, his jellybean nose<333 my second favorite candy, the purple eye shadow he looks so hot with and add to his for some reason constant bedroom eyes look, the rosy blushy cheeks that perk up when he smiles and giggles, the bushy eyes rows that make him SO expressive with every emotion EVEN WHEN THEYRE OFF COLOR SO OFTEN IN HIS MERCH DEPENDING ON WHAT THEY FEEL LIKE THAT DAY, his smile lines that curve with every smile, how soft his face, skin and lips look and bet they would feel just LOOK, the way his lips sometimes go expressive on the 'ooh's sounds so cartoony but also make me wanna kiss him so much, how soft his hands look even with finger nails cuz of course gotta look chibi and cartoony in the new game, the way he MOVES around with the microphone, TOTAL show off man built for the spotlight, beautiful perfect host like imagine a GAME SHOW WITH HIM AS HOST?? the little hip sway when he closes the door of his kart, the way he dives into his collar when he dodges down so CUTELY, his silly name puns and candy phrases that even pass on to the magic kingdoms game, so on point,

the two tail coats behind him that HONESTLY WORK SO WELL with the later dual cerci tails in his cybug form like a foreshadow, the little button behind his jacket that looks like a Mario coin (and I haven't looked at a picture of him since I opened this ask, this is just by memory he's just Aaaaaaa), the whole white chocolate design aesthetic with his royal racer kart and honestly himself too with the inner shirt, the fact that his "fans" are POPCORN, LIKE THAT'S NOT A CANDY but they're still there even tho like yeah animal crackers aren't candy either BUT ITS SO FUNNY to think Turbo went "I need my own little 'crowd' to fit in with the other racers, uh uh, POPCORN, yeah that was popular in the 80s", the fact he let his jealousy, vain and possessiveness for control get to him to destroy an entire game, like I fully believe he would PHYSICALLY PERSONALLY unplug a game if he could, I just love him so so much, Alan Tudyk, you did amazing with him, I genuinely can not see anyone else that would of taken him and made him AS GOOD AND ICONIC as he did, I just love him so so much, I adore him, I need him, I adore him, and I know it's gone so far when I found myself saying "I would let the world burn for this man," if he told me he hated another game and wanted it gone, disappeared, killing his competition, I would do it for him, anything to have him with me still. I adore everything about him.

And I haven't even gotten to TURBO since he got 24 SECONDS OF 3D SCREEN TIME (YES I COUNTED AND TIMED).

what was the question? oh favorite thing?

I'm very big on voices. so. voice. voice

[karinadele]

Budget Walmart Medic

Ratchet x Reader

ch6

Short form

Prev (AO3)

Short Form (Tumblr)

• He's never seen a signal like this. It blared in flashing red as if it was a warning for something catastrophic to happen. Yet something oddly familiar. It felt like deja vu. He desperately attempted to decipher the frequency as he made his way back to the human.

• Honesty is the best policy right? You haven't lied since being an adult, locking your past away and turning a new leaf. But in this moment, you could almost excuse it. A pair of glaring yet -is that worry? Optics stare right at you. He cradled you in his hands yet spouting absolutely nothing but profanity. Ironic it wasn't even a day ago he was the one telling you that you swore that much.

• "uh" With a small sigh you start to speak. A half truth will have to do. "yeah. I touched it." But you actively leave out the fact you snorted it. You could see him opening his mouth to protest something, but quickly shut it not long after.

• The frequency ringing in his audials have start to fade. If that's any indication of anything, it means the worst has passed. Ratchet didn't know why it bothered him so much, most likely it was just because medics are always high strung and always on alert.

• You two argue again, back and forth with Ratchet reprimanding you about how dangerous that was, and you shooting back that he only met you because you're always getting into things. Eventually he kicks you out the cave as you're banned from energon in whole, and he needed to excavate the raw crystals.

• It was only when you had a chance for yourself that you thought about it. How tf are you guys gonna process it?? Your place isn't small by any means, but even a house would be too small for him to even stick his head through the doors?? You're starting to really regret not shoving him into Raf's little hands and making it his problem.

• Ratchet emerges moments later while you're deep in thought wondering why they couldn't just contact each others or whatever the "harbinger" was. You were going to ask him about it until you realize he wasn't holding anything. "Where's the energon?" you ask him.

• On the way back, he explained that there's some sort of 'subspace' something like a blackhole that just disintegrates materialistic objects and can yank it back out in whole? You also learn some terminology of the cybertronian anatomy, things like hands are servos, feet are pedes, and a bunch of other things you've definitely have forgotten. But the one thing you did remember, was that they weren't able to contact the rest of the team as the Decepticons were keeping tabs on their communications.

• ? Wouldn't the right course of action is to just jam the communications? Ratchet scoffed at the idea. "You? Jamming alien Decepticon technology?" You argue with him that if they can't do anything server side, then at least try on the client side? If you can't smash their LAN room, (or whatever equivalent of it) then at least encrypt the messages they send? or hell, encrypt and distribute packets through other IPs, -or whatever their version of the internet is. A decentralized message.

• Ratchet is not onboard. One single one step and their cover could be totally blown. The cons can easily decrypt human encryption, after all, its extremely primitive. But you're determined. Where is this ego coming from? It's not ego, its sheer will and stubbornness to back down.

• You two pull up back into the garage. And with still no way of refining energon, Ratchet still has not been able to refuel. He tells you he'll just shut down and you're instantly thrown into a panic. That is until he explains it's just the equivalent of going to sleep, or recharge. So much for your unintended sympathetic nervous system running overtime. All this time you thought he was trying to die. Regardless, you hatch a plan. At this rate he will die if he doesn't get some sustenance into him. Without any other connections, your best bet was to contact Raf and that black and yellow muscle car.

• It wasn't until the human has left him alone and returned to her apartment that Ratchet realized what nagging frequency humming in his audials were. It was a life signal. Almost throwing him for a loop nearly smacking the celling half transformed. Not unlike that time Cliffjumper's life signal came back online from the dark energon. But oh so faint almost like the spark was holding on for dear life. "...How...? In a human? From merely touching energon?"

Next (AO3)

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[mbappeward]

when he finds out about your stretch marks you were hiding - kylian mbappe imagine

Looking into the mirror, glancing at your hips, you traced each of your stretch marks with your eyes. Disgusting. That's how you felt and thought of you the whole time.

Having stretch marks was a completely normal thing almost everyone owned somewhere on their body, but you were never able to be satisfied with the fact. You never found them pretty or "normal" on you. You did everything to hide them, even from your boyfriend Kylian.

Not once has the thought of him being disgusted by your stretch marks crossed your mind, but still... -you never wanted him to see them.

Whenever you were intimate with each other, you made sure it only happened during the evening-night time so he wouldn't be able to notice your stretch marks on your hips. Of course, he didn't only want to be intimate with you in the night, but during the day as well, but whenever he was trying you just gave him excuses like "I'm not in the mood" or "I'm on my period".

He never knew that you were actually just hiding from him because of your stretch marks.

You let out a sigh, quickly pulling your shorts up to cover your stretch marks before you walked out of your shared bedroom.

"It feels so good to take a shower" you said as you entered the living room, watching your boyfriend kylian casually laying on the couch while watching TV. "What are you watching?" you asked curiously, plopping down next to him, resting your head against his muscular arm. "Nothing really, just switching between the channels" he responded, eyes on the screen.

You turn your back to see the clock on the wall, realizing it's only four in the afternoon, before turning back to the TV. "Everything is boring" your heard your boyfriend murmur, turning the TV off by pressing the button on the remote.

"Are these my shorts?" Kylian suddenly asked has his eyes met your figure next to him. "Yeah, they looked pretty cool so I wanted to wear them. I hope that's okay for you though" your voice softened as you realized that you've never asked for his permission to wear his shorts. "It's okay, the look cute on you" he leaned closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

The kiss felt good, well actually, amazing.

Kylian cupped one of your cheeks with his big hand, his other one pulling your body closer to his, making you straddle his lap. You found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately and lustful until you felt him going in for the next step.

"Kylian-" you called out, watching him raising his brows slightly, waiting for a response. "We can't today, I'm still on my period" you lied, watching him sighing and groaning mentally.

"I think this is the right time for us to talk" Kylian let out and you got off of his lap, narrowing your brows at him. "What do you mean?" you asked confused, feeling a knot in your stomach as you could imagine what he was going to say.

"You know I'm not a man who would ever pressure you into things you can't do or don't want to and I also respect each of your decisions, but there's something that just doesn't make sense to me and I need you to explain it to me" he admitted.

He knew it.

"I've noticed that during the day, whenever we make out together, you don't go any further except when it's night. You always excuse yourself by saying "you're on your period" or you're not in the mood-which I totally respect, don't get me wrong-but it's getting a bit suspicious and I just want to ask you if there's anything I need to know?" Kylian explained very calmly and for a moment, you thought you'd be able to admit everything and just tell him the little secret of yours, but a second later and you already felt too uncertain to do it.

"Oh! N-No, no Kylian everything's fine. It's also really weird to me why we only manage to do it in the night, but yeah I have my period and I also barely feel like doing it during the day because of my hormones I guess" you awkwardly laughed, watching him nod.

"I understand, thank you for clarifying" he said and you gave him a small nod, feeling the embarrassment through your entire body.

"But at least let me kiss those pretty lips of yours" Kylian said lowly, leaning to press his soft lips on yours. Your placed your hand on his chest, sliding it up until you reached the back of his hand to pull him closer to you.

The embarrassing feeling wasn't leaving you, you just tried to ignore it and let Kylian kiss it away for you, but deep down it was there and sooner or later you had to tell him the truth.

"Your lips feel so warm" He commented during the kiss, making your heart flutter in your chest.

He pulled away from your kiss, grabbed you by your hips and let you straddle his lap again. "I like this sight of you" he smirked and pressed his lips once again on yours, kissing you with the lust he had to hold back, because you couldn't be fully intimate with him.

Kylian has always loved touching your bare skin, whether during your intimate time or just randomly during the day. He'd always slide his hand under your shirt to grab you by your waist and pull you closer to him, his hand still resting on the spot or just caressing your skin under your clothing when you cuddled together.

During the greedy kiss, you felt his two hands pulling your shorts slightly down to have a good grip of your hips, but a gasp escaped your lips as you pulled away with a flinch.

"Y/n" his tone was cold, as if he knew you were lying to him.  "Kylian I-I can explain" you said frustrated, feeling like an idiot as you looked into his concerned eyes. "There's something I've been hiding since the day we started dating and I just never had the courage to show you or tell you, because I, myself, feel so disgusted by it" you confessed, his eyes wandering down to your hips.

 He took the fabric bet his fingers and slightly pulled on it to see what you were hiding from him, but the moment his eyes met your stretch marks, you could see him narrowing his eyes.

"That's what you've been hiding from me? Stretch marks?" he asked, and you gave him a nod, feeling a big knot in your throat as you forged yourself not to cry.

"Babe you scared me for a second, but stretch marks are completely normal I don't get why you were so scared to tell or show me. Actually you wouldn't even have to do that, because I don't mind them and it's nothing a human being should be informed about, before seeing a body. It's completely normal thing that belongs to us humans" he explained softly and you felt your tears forming in your eyes.

"I don't know kylian, I just feel so disgusting" you cried on his shoulder, feeling him caressing your back while hugging you tightly and carressing your hair. "Babe, please don't cry" he comforted you, and you sniffed before pulling away from him with teary eyes.

"Where you scared that I wouldn't find you attractive anymore after finding out about your stretch marks?" Kylian asked softly and you gave him a nod, watching his expression change into a sad one.

"Y/n, listen" he spoke.

"You're the hottest and most gorgeous woman I've ever came across and nothing, really nothing", he emphasized the nothing, "will ever make me see you differently, not your stretch marks or any other things" he confirmed, wiping your tears away.

"Stretch marks are normal y/n, and I would never think of you differently. It's saddening me how you think of yourself when in real life-you look so absolutely stunning and gorgeous" he said, making you giggle through your sniffles.

"Was that also the reason you didn't want to be intimate with me during the day?" he asked very careful, but you nodded, not wanting to hide anything from him ever again.

It felt good to let it out, to tell him the truth and making him aware of your current worries and thoughts, but you still felt very disgusting.

"Babe.." he softly said, pushing your hair behind your ear.

"You know what? Let me showing you something" he said and lifted you by your thighs, walking towards the bedroom.

"Look into the mirror" he almost demanded as he put you down, caging the mirror.

"What do you see?" Kylian asked and you took a deep breath.

"Myself" you answered simply. "And if you see yourself now, what do you think of yourself?" he continued asking.

"Without my stretch marks I think I'm actually pretty okay looking, but when I see them I just feel so disgusting" you respond, feeling his hands on your hips.

"Okay, and now let me ask you another question. If I pull your shorts down and make your stretch marks appear, do they change anything on your face? Do they change the shape of your body? Do they change your personality?" he asked and you shook your head as a response. "Exactly, they're just there and they don't change anything about you" Kylian said and you watched his eyes softening.

"When I look into the mirror now, I only see a beautiful woman, my woman", he corrected himself, "and all I see is your beautiful smile, your beautiful eyes and your beautiful personality you're carrying with you right here whether with or without stretch marks" he said and pointed at your heart.

"Don't focus on something so small that won't change you in any way. They're a part of you yes, but nothing you should be embarrassed about" he turned you around so your face would finally face him, your body pressed against his.

"And also, I think they look sexy on you" he complements you, making your blush heavily.

He was right.

It was a part of your body, but nothing that would change your entire appearance. It was still hard for you to fully accept it and look at yourself without any doubting or negative thoughts, but kylians words made you realize that you were just focusing too much on something so small which led you forget about your entire appearance and other parts of your body you actually like. 

"You're making me blush now" you said softly behind your hands which you used for hiding your face. "Don't be shy now what I'm saying is just the truth" he said and took your hands to reveal your face.

"You look very sexy with them on your hips" he smirked with lust growing inside his eyes, making you giggle. "Thank you kyky, thank you for all of your kind words that made me realize that it's not all about my stretch marks but me in general. I was focusing too much on them which made forget about the things I actually like on my body and yeah.. I wanted to thank you for that" you shyly thanked him, placing a soft peck against his lips. Kylian chuckled and leaned in to place his lips back on yours, kissing them gently before cupping your cheeks.

"Baby, I still respect all of your decisions and if you're still not ready to do it now it's okay, but I need you so bad right now" Kylian admitted frustrated, making you giggle.

"I want you too" you smile at him, before he crashed his lips on yours, kissing you with the desire he had to hold back the entire time.

(you can imagine what happens next lol)

{Please don’t ever be insecure about stretch marks, because they’re completely normal and make you unique!! 🤍}

[papabearbobbynash]

It's kinda curious and hilarious how twitter fandom always choses the Bobby/Bathena arcs to complain about long focused arcs.

I mean yeah we already saw Bobby Minesotta fire backstory, but we also already saw Eddie relationships failing because he doesn't realize he keeps looking a woman to fulfill a role of mother for Chris/A woman he can project his glorified relationship with Shannon. We also already saw Buck's multiple times navigating through feelings and LIs to discover a new self (the gender of the LI being different doesn't change it's basically the same thing), except for the representarion, that is always good and needed

"But it's new layers of the characters being shown, it's not the same", this also applies to Bobby.

We're actually about to see his childhood, something the writers never touched or explored before, so people acting like it will be the same stuff again is kinda ?? to me.

Also acting like thevcruise ship arc is at fault for madney wedding being short was hilarious to me, because the writers could totally have cut the nun bulshit with Marisol that had cost half episode of scenes where Eddie was spiralling over it. In fact, the writers could have finished eddiesol relationship off-screen way before, like it was done with bucktalia. This way Eddie didn't have to cheat and his fans didn't have to fight their lives trying to defend it due context/narrative. If the writers had cut any of that, we could have seen more of the wedding prep.

I'm not even afraid of them not wrapping storyline in two episodes for S7, because they legit don't need to rush. They guaranteed S8 so idk what is the need in rushing the arcs (Hen and Eddie's) to wrap the season. If the writers are smart they will leave arcs for S8

Anyway, sorry about the negativity, just ignore me. i'm just a little bit bitter because I only see this type of discourse when it's bathena/bobby arcs. It was like this with "The Devil You Know", same with cruise arc and now with "Bobby arc" that didn't even air.