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babyyhoneyyy · 7 hours

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I wanna kiss your neck H.S

“You mean a lot to me too, Harry. You’re my best friend.”

He grinned. “Oh? You let all your best friends eat your pussy and choke you, then?”

“Don’t be a dick,” she smacked his chest lightheartedly, “we can try like… friends with benefits?”

Or,

The one where Y/N and Harry are best friends, but they’ve crossed a big, fat line that says otherwise.

You can read this as a stand-alone but its more fun as a part two to this one <3

word count: 4K

content warning: mature. I got a little carried away 😭 also fwb!harry (my fav)

When Y/N woke up the next day, Harry was pressed tightly to her back, arm slithered around her waist and stuffing her impossibly closer to his slumbering body. She could feel the rumbling of his snores against her spine and he must have sneaked into her bed after she fell asleep, ditching the couch pallet she prepared for him in her living room. He had a habit of doing that so she wasn’t shocked or alarmed by his sudden appearance behind her.

All Y/N could really think about was what the actual heck happened the past night when Harry offered to ‘make her feel good.’ She would be lying if she said he didn’t make her come harder than anyone else ever had. The way he worked her body had her all hot and bothered again, restless in Harry’s tight grip when he groaned all of a sudden, all raspy and deep right in her ear, “stop moving, Berry.”

Berry.

He hadn’t called her that in a while. It was a nickname he often resorted to when Y/N and him were little, their first meeting being one where Harry caught Y/N blue-stained and sticky-fingered in the playground because she was inhaling the berries her mum packed her for a snack. He pointed at her face with a stern look and said the singular word, Berry. And from then on it stuck, all the way up till they were seniors in high school, where the name lost its appeal and Harry got whisked away into the hot, popular persona he adopted at the time.

After that he sparingly said the word, it only slipping out in unconscious or vulnerable moments, and apparently that morning was one too.

When she twisted in his grasp so she faced him, Harry blinked one eye open, “go back to bed. It’s the weekend for fucks sake.” He shuffled so he was facing her on his side, not withdrawing his hand fully as it still rested in the dip of her waist and thumbed over the smooth skin there. He had ditched his sweater for the night, just in a pair of soft sweatpants. His hair was pulled back in a bun but most of the strands were free now, thanks to his restless tossing and turning in bed. “I know it's the weekend, it doesn’t mean we laze around all morning. I have things to do.”

“Who said anything about all morning? Just five more minutes.”

Five more minutes turned into ten, and ten minutes later Harry somehow made his way between her thighs again. It started with him stroking her side, up to her shoulder and scratching his nails against her scalp. When she would try to make a move to leave bed and freshen up, he thumbed over her jugular and pushed her to lay on her back, scooting closer to her so he could lean over her side.

“Want me to eat you out again?”

It’s a terrible ploy to keep her in bed— one so outrageous it actually works and Y/N finds herself quickly nodding, slipping her hands in his hair to pull his hair tie. He kissed down her neck, sloppy and slow, all the way across her tummy and the tops of her thighs. She didn’t wear anything on her bottom half since she thought she was going to be sleeping alone but that proved a good decision when Harry had easy access to her sopping cunt.

From then on it was as good as it was the first time. In fact, it might have been even better. He was passionate as he stuffed his face into her, lifted her thighs so they bracketed his cheeks like he wanted to suffocate himself. His tongue was unrelenting, wriggling between her folds and making those noises that made Y/N’s face and neck go red as she pulled his locks harshly between her fingers. When he pulled out his favourite move of isolating her clit and flicking the tip of tongue against it hard and fast, it had Y/N shaking and whining out loud. She was brought to the edge very quickly after that, back arching and a loud gasp spilling from her mouth.

Harry popped off from her with a filthy sound, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and smirked up at her fucked-out state.

After that, it became some sort of trend.

Every weekend, Harry would come over to her apartment like he normally did, they’d chat about their week, pick out a movie and crack open a bag of chips only for Harry to nudge her mid-movie with his eyes sparkling and lip between his teeth and he’d ask her if he could go down on her again. So he would, and it would be amazing every time. Somehow he was even more enthusiastic than he was the last time, licking into her eagerly. It was like he wanted to drown in all she offered and one night he refused to let her go, slicking her folds over and over again until she came about three times.

Everytime he made her come she’d ask to return the favour since he was always sporting a painfully large bulge when he pulled away from her. Yet every time he politely declined— told her he was fine and would take care of it himself.

But this time Y/N was not letting that happen.

She was hell-bent tonight on getting him to come, no matter how much he persisted she didn’t need to do anything for him. Y/N knew tonight would be like the others— he’d find himself face-first between her thighs within 20 minutes of walking through her door. It’s not like she didn’t appreciate his very obvious oral fixation, it was just that her body was beginning to get used to his delivery of orgasms every weekend and she now had a different sort of ache that she needed to get fixed.

The ache to be filled up by him.

The burn of his cock inside of her was one she found herself craving often. She knew he was big by the way he would sometimes press his bulge against her thigh for some relief. All she wanted was for him to sink inside of her, reach all those spots she just knew he’d be able to hit and fuck into her nice and deep.

Obviously this was crossing a big, fat, red line.

Y/N and Harry were friends.

Best friends, in fact, ever since they were in the playground. Just the fact that he was spending his weekends suffocated by her pussy was definitely against the rules childhood best friends were bound to follow, but maybe they could venture into something more than just that— and Y/N didn’t mean dating.

Maybe something like a friends with benefits situation.

Yeah, Y/N didn’t mind having an arrangement of that sort with Harry. Besides, she trusted him, and surely their bond was strong enough to go through with it.

When he arrived at her door at about 7PM, Y/N jumped to quickly open it, finding Harry standing there with a single dimple making an appearance, hair pushed back and clad in a pair of matching sweatpants and a hoodie. He didn’t waste a beat in pressing himself against her, his greedy hands all over her waist as he walked her back into her apartment. “Hey,” he breathed, kissing her just below her ear, “I missed you.”

Y/N heard the door shut behind him, her eyelids fluttering under the feel of his lips against her skin, suckling warm kisses across the skin. “You saw me last weekend.”

“Mm. Too long.”

Harry’s voice was muffled against her skin, and he pulled back to brush his nose against her, his hands now sneakily resting against her bare waist. “It’s just seven days you horndog.”

“Heyy. Don’t say that like you hadn’t missed me either.” He pouted, shoving her hip so she fell back on the couch. Harry quickly climbed over her, hips snug between her thighs as he tenderly brushed her hair away from her forehead. Y/N could feel her cheeks heating up as he stared right at her. “Yeah,” she accepted defeat, like his eyes had fed her some sort of truth serum, “I missed you too. A lot.”

He must have liked her answer, because he pecks her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, then skips right over to the top of her chest exposed by the low neckline of her shirt, “did you, now? What about me did you miss, Berry?”

She didn’t respond for a while, lost in the feel of his mouth against her skin, trailing lower and lower until he pushed her shirt up and over her tits. The peaks of her nipples were pebbled, practically begging for Harry to wrap his mouth around them. Warm fingers slivered up her tummy to squeeze both her tits in his palm harshly. “Asked you a question.”

“Fuck,” those same fingers travelled over to her nipples, pinching the sensitive bud until her back arched off of the sofa, “um, your mouth.” The words barely left her throat as she struggled to keep her composure, squeezing Harry between her thighs so tightly he was afraid he’d get bruises on his hips. “That’s nice. Using me for my mouth, then are you? Quite selfish if you ask me.” Y/N knew he was only joking, but she couldn’t help bucking her hip into his, twisting his hair between her fingers.

“I’m not selfish! Just… need you.”

She barely recognised her voice, it sounding whiney and desperate as Harry finally dragged his tongue against her nipple, index finger and thumb bracketing her breast as he held it to his mouth. The way he moved his tongue was almost calculated; careful and thoughtful as he figured out the way to best please her— flicking the muscle against her bud, grazing it with his teeth and lulling long, slow circles around it. “S’okay. You can have my mouth. It’s all yours anyway.”

He popped off from her chest, leaving her a heaving and whimpery mess, though before he could fit his shoulders between her thighs, Y/N was quick to pull him back up with his hair so he was level with her face. The burn against his scalp made him groan as he stared down at Y/N, quite annoyed that she stopped him from having his treat.

“I want something else tonight,” she breathed. His eyebrows dipped slightly as he brought a large hand to wrap around her throat— one of his favourite ways to hold her, “what do you need, princess?”

He was subtly grinding his hips against her, pinning her against the couch as she tried to figure out the words to say what she wanted. “I need you to fuck me. Please.”

All movements paused. His fingers tightened around her throat and his eyes became a shade darker. “S’that what this is then? All needy to get my cock inside of you?” Harry’s thumb subtly caressed the side of her throat as he nudged his nose against hers, “hmm?”

”Yes, please. I need it so bad, Harry.”

She gave him the best doe eyes she could, biting her lip for added effect. Even though Harry was a weak man for a pretty pout, he had to think rationally here. His eyes softened as he stared down at his best friend— if he could even call her that at this point. “Are you sure, Berry? I don’t… I don’t want to do anything that could ruin what we have,” his thumb made its way to her cheek where he stroked lovingly, “you mean a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, Harry. You’re my best friend.”

He grinned. “Oh? You let all your best friends eat your pussy and choke you, then?”

“Don’t be a dick,” she smacked his chest lightheartedly, “we can try like… friends with benefits?”

This made him somehow smirk even wider and Y/N’s cheeks got warmer, “gosh I just am that irresistible aren’t I?” She rolled her eyes, “don’t make me take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He kissed her forehead then her nose, “‘course I’ll fuck you. I’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

With that, he pulled his sweater off of his head and helped Y/N with her shirt. She had seen him shirtless before numerous times but never allowed herself to ogle him in a sexual way. She didn’t hold back as she let her fingers trail all over his tanned skin, squeezing his sides and pulling him closer so there was practically no space between the two. Harry giggled at her desperation. “Horny, Berry?”

Y/N smacked his head for real this time. “Shut up.”

He rubbed the spot she struck, “that hurt.”

“Well too bad,” she let her fingers work on the knot of his sweats, hastily trying to push them off of his hips but Harry had other plans— long fingers came to wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands away from him and pinning them next to her head. “You’re so fucking bratty all the time. Thought maybe all those orgasms were helping but clearly I wasn’t giving it to you hard enough.”

She whined in his grasp, trying to break free. While he held her hands in one of his, he let the other trail down her body and slip into her shorts. He came into contact with her wet cunt immediately, sliding his index and middle finger through the folds, slowly, surely. He tsked, “slutty pussy.” The words went straight to her throbbing clit as she bucked her hips against his hand, though she was crying out loud when Harry let his fingers slap over the bundle of nerves. “Be patient, Y/N.” She frowned at his words, trying her best to keep her composure.

All the while his fingers continued to explore her folds, not applying any pressure where she really wanted, just feeling around like her wetness amused him. The moment she felt like she was actually going to cry, he slipped a finger into her heat. “Fuck,” he pumped his digit slowly, “perfect little cunt.”

Y/N’s fingers twisted and writhed under his hold, back arching as he showered her in praises, lips pressing against her jaw and neck. Her thighs shook when he curled his finger against that one spot, and she knew a couple more seconds of this and she’d be coming undone around his fingers.

Before she could succumb to her orgasm, Harry pulled his fingers out and stuffed them into her mouth. Her opportunity to protest was taken away from her as he forced her to taste herself, stroking his fingers against her tongue, “s’that good, baby? You’re lucky I’m sharing today. Can’t let anyone else know how sweet this pussy is for me.”

Once she was done sucking him clean, he straightened up to pull her shorts off and got off the couch to kick off his own sweats and boxers. His cock slapped up against his abdomen, long and thick and the way it throbbed looked like it was almost painful. One of his hands came to wrap around it while the other pulled a condom out of his wallet. He climbed back on the couch and pulled her by the hips. Y/N slid closer to him, “ready for me, Berry?” He murmured as he rolled the condom on his length.

Y/N couldn’t find the words to tell him how badly she needed him, only let her nails dig into his skin and nodded eagerly, “yes, yes, yes please. I’m so ready, Harry, need i—“

He didn’t let her finish, cutting her off with a deep groan as he impaled her with his dick. She could feel him snug against her— all of him inside all of her. The squelch that resounded in the room when they came together was loud and embarrassing as Y/N moaned uncontrollably, pulsing rhythmically around him trying to adjust to his size. His slow place built up to something faster and harder, the sound of skin slapping skin making Y/N even wetter.

It was a surprise he wasn’t straight up slipping out of her with how wet she was. She could feel it coat the inside of her thighs when he brought one of her legs up and over his shoulder. The new angle made everything feel a hundred times better— he was hitting places she didn’t even know she could reach. Harry’s hands held onto her hips tightly, one of them sneaking over her mound as his thumb came in contact with her clit. The added stimulation made her squeeze her eyes shut, head angling away and into the sofa beneath her.

He didn’t let her look away, though, as he bit back a moan and brought his free hand to grab her face. His fingers squeezed her cheeks as he manhandled her to face him, “don’t fucking look away from me,” he leaned closer to her. His hips stopped pumping and he resorted to deep, filthy grinds against her g-spot. “Look at me when I’m fucking you. Bet no one’s ever given it to you so good, hmm?”

She can’t find it in herself to come back with a witty remark, so far gone with the feel of him stuffed inside her. It was like he reduced her to nothing but babbles and whines, “uh-huh, uh-huh, yes please, Harry.” Her fingers found his hair again, pulling the locks hard and then tucking them behind his ear. He found himself locked in a tender moment when his eyes met hers, and he pressed a soft kiss to her brow bone before he began thrusting again.

Somehow he was harder, deeper, faster and pulling so much out of Y/N she was ready to burst. Her moans began sounding annoying to herself but she just couldn’t help it, especially not when he began circling her clit again. It took only a couple more seconds and she was coming around his cock, back lifting off of the couch almost too harshly as she clamped down around him. “Tha’s it, gorgeous. So beautiful you are, Berry.”

Harry worked her through it, her warm, wet walls beckoning him closer to his end. “Wait!” She called desperately when her orgasm subsided, “come… come in my mouth, please?”

“Jesus Christ.” He pulled out quickly, ripping the condom off and letting his fingers gather her arousal. The sensation made her flinch in sensitivity but she got over it when she saw him use her arousal as a lubricant, pumping himself as he leaned over her body. Y/N dropped her mouth open and stared right into his eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he came, it was a lot.

White, hot spurts that Y/N tried to catch with her tongue, and he just kept coming and coming and coming. The sounds he made were enough to make her all riled up again— his eyebrows furrowed, hair tickling his upper back as he tilted his head. Some of it landed on her jaw and chin but she swallowed as much as she could; which was only what actually made it on her tongue. One long stroke was delivered, and only then was he done, posture slouching as he lazily eyed Y/N. “Incredible.”

She giggled at his praise, still covered in his release. His eyes on her were burning and a second later a mischievous glint made her tummy flutter, “one second.” He leaned over the couch to grab his phone, pulling open the camera app. Y/N’s eyes widened when she realised what he was implying. Harry smirked, “just as a keepsake.”

One of his ringed hands came up to her jaw, cupping it tightly as he forced her head to face the camera. The sight could make Harry come all over again— Y/N’s lips were parted, his come painting her jaw and chin and decorating the edge of her bottom lip. Her neck was littered in purple bruises from all the time he spent there and his hand served as an accessory which she wore with pride. His rings felt cool against her skin when they slid across her jugular.

“Say ‘queef’!”

Y/N’s nose scrunched, “Harry!”

He laughed when she slapped his hand away and quickly kissed her forehead, “I’ll be right back, babe.” Y/N hummed as he left to go to the bathroom, the sight of him covering his dick with his shirt with his bum out making her laugh.

She was so happy.

It might have been the post-orgasm high, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. Obviously the fact that she was doing all of this with her best friend was a big, blaring red flag but it was like she just didn’t care. He made her feel good and confident in her skin— something she hasn’t felt with a number of her past partners.

Just as she fluttered her eyes shut, the sound of Harry’s phone startled her. It was probably his roommate, Niall, wondering where he was. It was nearing 9PM.

She grabbed his phone to silence it, but what she saw made her freeze in her spot.

A picture of a gorgeous brunette flashed across the screen, her eyes twinkling and lips painted red.

Chelsea 🩵

She was smiling wide, and just on the corner of the screen did Y/N catch a glimpse of Harry pressing his lips to her temple.

Her Harry.

The one who’s been her best friend ever since she was in diapers.

Her Harry.

The one who just fucked the living daylights out of her.

Y/N didn’t know what to do so she just watched the phone ring and ring. It was like all the air from her lungs was stolen. Suddenly she felt gross lying here covered in Harry’s come, all that confidence melting away from her body. She felt used. Before she could let the tears threaten her eyes, Harry appeared in the living room. She dropped his phone before he could see.

He walked over to her with a towel in his hand. “You alright?” He asked her, noticing her stoic expression and quiet demeanour. “Mhmm.” Harry must have thought she was just tired after her orgasm, humming as he ran the towel across her thighs and then her jaw. “We did make quite a mess didn’t we?”

He was smirking, trying to get a rise out of her but she just couldn’t stomach the lump in her throat. She faked a laugh, “yeah.” If he noticed her dull responses, he didn’t say anything. When he was done, Y/N sat up and pulled her shirt over head. She was gnawing harshly on her lip, swallowing down tears and anger and confusion as she watched him pick up his phone. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Is everything okay?”

She didn’t know why she asked. Whatever he would say would only make matters worse for her. “Uh, yeah. Jus’ Niall wondering when I’ll be home.” He flashed her a small smile and Y/N felt like the walls of her apartment were crumbling around her. “I have to call him back, Berry, I’ll be right back.” A kiss was pressed to her cheek as he quickly left the room.

Y/N felt like she was suffocating under the weight of his lie. She was disgusted by herself— the same touches she yearned for and looked forward to each weekend now felt like a burden on her body, dirtying her. She wouldn’t let herself cry; she couldn’t let Harry see her like this.

a minute later he walked back in and began dressing himself. “I’ve got to go, Y/N. Sorry, I feel like an ass leaving you so soon but Niall needs me urgently,” he walked over to her, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She swallowed down another sob, “mhmm.”

He pecked her forehead and whispered goodbye, leaving swiftly without so much as another glance in her direction. Only when her door slammed shut did she allow her tears to spill over her cheeks. They poured and poured like a leaky faucet as Y/N pulled her knees into her chest.

This was probably why he didn’t want to fuck her in the first place.

He was getting his fix elsewhere, and Y/N felt like a fool for ever believing they were anything more than best friends.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

HEYYYY this is just a load of filth :p let me know what your thoughts are and if you enjoyed it !! LEAVE FEEDBACK PLEASE ITS ALWAYS NICE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK !! LIKE REBLOG COMMENT REPLY YADA YADA KISS KISS GOODNIGHT!! xxx

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emry-stars-art · 10 months

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Whalemack!

He’s a gray/grey whale, very nice and VERY big (though about half the size of a blue whale). He’s been mostly solitary for a while, sometimes joining other whales on their migrations, but then he starts collecting little mer children that make travel hard. I’ll probably add some scars from boats/etc to this design. And we need to figure out if mers have tattoos 🧐

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dutybcrne · 3 months

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Kaeya is rather touch averse, cringing away from casual contact people give him under the guise of being distracted or idle movement. He's used to it, the Ragnvindrs and Adenlinde got him used to frequent affectionate physical contact, but it can still be entirely Uncomfortable if he's touched by someone outside those he is close to or someone he's otherwise Allowed to touch him.

#hc; kaeya #//Mentioned before; but am Elaborating on other aspects since Aven get brain juices flowing for this #//Unlike Aven; he's FAR more tolerable of people who touch him unprompted. & more willing to indulge for himself outside his comfort people #//Unless he himself had actively given the indication he doesn't want it; in that case THEN he's likely to anger & retaliate #//But yeah; his response is usually Discomfort & trying to get away from it one way or another. Can tolerate it to appear friendly; sure #//But would rather not want people to touch him so easily. Is decently okay with brief touches tho; like shoulder pats or the like #//Will actively lean into it & encourage further touching ONLY as a means to an end; adjusting any wandering hands only when going too far #//Esp if he can use that like a carrot on a string–if they concede to what he wants; they can touch him more. Maybe MORE than just that too #//He won't initiate any touch unless he deems it Absolutely Necessary; WILL internally scream if they Immediately reciprocate the contact #//Uses it as a 'reward' sometimes; a little pinch of the cheek; a hug; getting right into their space; if he sees they'll react favorably #//Maybe more if they have connection enough; like Huffman or one of his longer-running liaisons. Is p ok w/ sleeping w/ them as reward #//Sometimes he forgets some people don't like that he does this; like Rosie. Tries the tactic to get a favor then Remembers #//Absolutely apologizes; feels mortified when she scrutinizes him for it. Esp since she'd be one of few ppl who KNOWS just how Averse he is #to it in the first place. Him slipping up like that in front of HER is smth he'd STRESS over. She could hold over his head for all he knows #//How can he even joke abt it? Worse if she asks abt his way of doing things or indicate she doesnt Like that he uses himself as bait #//Has absolutely accidentally tried to seduce/bait sb like that who he absolutely should Not have. Like Jean. Ended up playing it off like #a joke between friends; but damn near had a panic attack from the guilt the moment he was safely in his office. bc Jean is SPECIAL to him #could he treat her like THAT? How could he almost let her SEE that side of him? His casual charm and facade are ONE thing #//But him actively doing something like THAT; esp for Jean of all people; is COMPLETELY off-limits; no matter his feelings #//Actually; especially BC he harbors feelings for her. Ppl like Lisa on the other hand; he is VERY comfortable doing this with/to #//She GETS the flirty habit & dishes it back without losing image of him in the way someone he regards at Jean's level possibly could #//And as far as Lisa knows; it's Only a playful habit; not a means to an end. The ones who prolly Know might be certain folks in the church #//But that's just bc he gets frequent checkups after every lil Rendezvous of his. Which is why he's got dirt on Every Single Person There #//Except Barbara; but he absolutely makes SURE she's not the one he's dealing with whenever he goes. Wants to spare her his messes #//Damn; veered a little but it's alright. 'A little'; HA. Nah; my tags are but the cluttered corkboard of my thoughts jhdbfjdf #//Diluc; Addie & Jean are the people he most Fears finding out abt his methods. Doesnt wanna THINK abt how they'd feel/regard him after tha #//Knows for SURE it'd be painful if the way they treat him changes even a SLIGHT. ESP Addie; he can bear the other two; but Addie???#//Nah; he'd be fucken DEVASTATED. That's the ONE person he knows hold true unwavering unconditional love for him; no matter what #//To do anything to damage that? He'd be so fucken GUTTED. He expects everyone to get fed up with/disdain him at some point. But not HER #//Keeps this shit on the down low by always having dirt on the people he gets Involved with; if not using keeping it up as an incentive

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osaemu · 5 months

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GOJO SATORU: KISS & MAKE UP

✩ ‧ ˚. streamer!au: after the breakup, you two decide to make up in the traditional way—by having sex! NSFW

contents: fem!reader. oral (f. recieving), p –> v, teasing, praise, hair pulling (m. recieving), missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, use of pet names (too many to list here). not proofread bc you couldn't pay me to read all this again. 2.5k words. read this fic beforehand for better understanding of the context, but you don't have to.

author's note: tumblr hates me and that's why the banner quality's trash. if u wanna see the details, click here. anyways the streamer!gojo smut has finally arrived, tagging @satorena @screampied @cultrise, enjoyyy ;)

“did you tell them we’re back together?”

satoru nods in response to your question, plopping down on the couch next to you. he's spent the last hour chatting with his stream, and eventually he broke the news that you and him were back together after the breakup.

“yeah, i did,” he confirms, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. your hands automatically move to his hair and you thread your fingers through the soft white strands, pausing after a couple seconds to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

a week ago, you and satoru had an admittedly messy breakup—not messy in the sense that it got toxic or dramatic, but messy in the way that it could’ve easily been avoided. it wasn’t that big of a deal, but thankfully, you and satoru resolved your misunderstanding within a relatively short time.

since then, things have been a little different—satoru’s been taking a break from streaming, which gave him move time to spend with you and away from his thousands of fans. it was his suggestion, and not surprisingly, it worked. but all good things have to come to an end, and your “honeymoon” away from satoru’s stream seems to be coming to a close.

“something smells good,” satoru notes, lifting his head and glancing at the kitchen. “wait, is that ramen?” your boyfriend gasps, eyes rounding as he looks at you hopefully.

“yeah, you said you were craving it, so i made some,” you reply with a smile, untangling yourself from his arms and walking over to the kitchen. satoru blows you a flurry of kisses that you see out of the corner of your eye as you check on the ramen, which looks pretty much done.

“y’know, i still haven’t forgiven you for the shit you pulled last week,” you say dryly, turning off the stove and draining the water from the ramen into your sink. the steam rises up as the boiling water slips down into the drain, clouding your face for a moment before it dissipates into thin air.

“...does that mean i don’t get to eat that ramen?” satoru asks tentatively, a nervous smile on his lips as you empty a packet of flavored powder into the ramen. you shoot him a look and raise an eyebrow, turning back to the stove to hide your smile.

“maybe, maybe not,” you reply coyly, not wanting to give in too soon.

“boo, you whore.”

you roll your eyes and divide the ramen into two bowls, one for you and one for your boyfriend. “you’re lucky i’m too nice to let you starve, regina,” you say pointedly, walking back over to the couch and handing one of the bowls to him, which satoru takes with both hands—a habit from his childhood that never went away. “otherwise you’d be—”

satoru cuts you off by poking your lips with his chopsticks, steaming hot ramen wrapped around them. you reluctantly open your mouth and let him feed you, smiling when he seals the bite with a kiss.

“best girlfriend ever,” satoru proclaims when he pulls away, a lazy smile playing on his lips. his soft blue eyes study your own, observing your unusually guarded expression and frowning.

“how many times do i gotta apologize for my bullshit before you stop making that face at me?” he grumbles, twirling his chopsticks in his bowl and taking a bite of the ramen. it’s cute how satoru’s face lights up at the taste, and it’s even cuter how his eyes round at you in awe when he takes another bite. “i didn’t know instant ramen could be this good,” he muses, licking any lingering flavor off of his lips.

“very funny, satoru,” you laugh, swirling your chopsticks around the broth and watching the rest of the steam rise from your bowl. “and to answer your question, i don’t really know.”

satoru tilts his head and takes a sip of his water, ice clinking against the side of the glass. when you respond to his question, he pauses and tilts his head in confusion. “...wait, what does that mean?”

you think for a second, choosing your words carefully. “i’m not sure how long it’ll take until we’re back to… normal,” you say cautiously. in all honesty, you weren’t that pissed off at him—you never were. but the fact that satoru was so ready to throw your relationship away over something as small as that was upsetting, to say the least. and you weren’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen again.

satoru looks at you thoughtfully, more serious than you’ve seen him in a while. you can almost see the gears turning in his head before he replies. “any idea how i can make it up to you?”

you shrug, swallowing another bite of ramen before you meet his eyes. “you tell me. actions speak louder than words.”

your boyfriend drops his chopsticks, letting them clatter around in the bowl before he stands up. he extends a hand to you, a determined glint in his eye. “then lemme prove it to you.”

“satoru, you can’t bribe me with sex.”

“that’s not all i’ll be doing, sweetheart. trust me.”

and that’s how you ended up in his room, hands tangled in satoru’s soft white hair as he eats you out. his tongue laps at your cunt with quick, kitten-like strokes, and he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh. “feels s’good, satoru,” you breathe, involuntarily tugging on his hair and dragging out a groan from his lips. “sorry—”

“don’t apologize,” satoru mumbles in reply, nose brushing against your dripping thighs as his tongue slips past your folds and goes in deeper. he looks up and locks eyes with you, unable to resist smiling at the way your legs tremble around him. “aw, you’re so fuckin’ cute,” he murmurs, flicking his tongue in and out of your cunt with a grin. “and i’m the one who should be—fuck, you’re gorgeous—apologizing.”

this isn’t the first time satoru’s eaten you out, but it feels like it every single time—somehow, his tongue has a talent of rendering you unable to focus on anything else but him. you grind your hips against satoru’s face, eyes squinted shut as your boyfriend flattens his tongue before lapping your slick up with cloudy eyes. “shit, i don’t know what i’d be without you,” he murmurs, voice low and steady—and something about his tone makes you certain he’s being completely honest with you.

“you’re so—fuck, satoru, i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, back automatically arching when satoru’s tongue reaches that spot inside you. he laughs, and the vibration of the soft sound against your puffy, sensitive cunt almost makes your legs give out—but thankfully, satoru’s hands are secured around your thighs, holding you in place. “‘toru, i can’t—”

“yeah, y’can, just relax that pretty pussy for me,” he cooes, licking up the slick dripping down his chin. “c’mon, you’re doing so good f’me, keep going, baby.” and just like that, his tongue slips out of your cunt and he lets you cum—the sheer force of your orgasm hits you like a truck, and your hips roll against satoru’s face in a choppy rhythm as you desperately ride it out, hands gripping and accidentally yanking his hair.

you stutter out his name a couple more times, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of satoru’s mouth on your sensitive, gushing pussy. your boyfriend praises you the whole way, gently murmuring soft words about how sweet you are for letting him taste you, even while your relationship was rocky. when your voice steadies enough for satoru to make out what you’re begging him to do, he’s not at all surprised to hear you plea for him to fuck you—so stands up and tugs you down onto his bed, hand intertwined with yours as he pulls the sheets over your bodies.

you squeeze satoru’s hand and lean in to kiss him, chest still heaving from your earlier orgasm. naturally, you miss his lips and end up kissing the side of his face, which is flushed bright red from the way his body reacts to the taste of your pussy. “don’t ever leave me like that again,” you whisper, tears pricking at your eyes for some reason—maybe it’s the lovesick way satoru looks at you, or maybe it’s the way he’s holding onto you like there’s no place he’d rather be.

“i won’t,” satoru promises, pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead and pulling your head into his chest. his lips touch the top of your head as he murmurs, “and if i do, shoot me.” it sounds like a joke, but you both know that he’s dead serious.

“good thing i won’t have to do that,” you say with a soft giggle. your smile is heart-achingly familiar to satoru, and it feels like home—and that’s the realization that has him stripping off what little clothing the two of you still have on before he climbs on top of you.

satoru touches the tip of his dick to your pussy, waiting for your nod to allow him to go in all the way. after a second, you dip your chin and trail your fingers down satoru’s jaw, grabbing his chin and pulling him down into another kiss. his lips linger for a couple seconds, still-minty breath tickling your face, before he pulls away. satoru slowly lowers his hips and nudges his dick inside of your desperate cunt, hands resting on either side of you.

even though it’s only been a little over a week since you last had sex with satoru, it feels like it’s been forever—your boyfriend curses when he feels how tight you are, mumbling something about missing you “so fucking much” as he goes in deeper and deeper. it hurts a little at first, but you quickly get used to the feeling of him inside of you.

“fuckin’ hell, i’m never gonna get tired of this,” satoru breathes, dipping his head and kissing your collarbone. a single drop of sweat drips down the side of his face as he watches you squirm, eyes soft and endearing as you do so. he starts rolling his hips back and forth against you to loosen you up a little, dragging out soft moans from you as he does so.

“yeah, you better not,” you mutter, tilting your head back and drawing in a long breath of air. you can’t remember the last time you felt this good—maybe it was the last time satoru fucked you. “satoru, y’re going so slow—”

your boyfriend cuts you off with a particularly harsh thrust, making your body jolt against his mattress. satoru lifts his head and looks you in the eye, a breathy laugh slipping out of him when he sees the pout on your lips. “the fuck you mean, i’m going slow? you want me to tear you apart? silly girl,” he tuts, back to his usual cocky self. he shakes his head and goes deep enough in you to force you to arch your back, starting to grin at the way you paw at his chest. “always so selfish, aren’t you?” he cooes, dipping his head and giving you a sloppy kiss on the forehead. “but you’re always—so—fuckin’—sweet,” satoru whispers, punctuating each word with a thrust hard enough for you to moan out his name more times than you can count.

“you’re the selfish one,” you mumble, lips trembling enough to muffle your voice. satoru huffs out a sigh and kisses your mouth, teeth gently brushing against your bottom lip. “you broke up with me for no reason,” you continue, tears pricking at your eyes again. “you think i’m gonna forgive you this fast?”

satoru shakes his head again and caresses the side of your face. “will you?” he asks, slowing his pace enough for you to notice. you mutter something about him edging you on purpose, to which satoru shushes you and repeats his question.

“maybe.”

“you gotta stop giving me maybe’s, baby—y’re drivin’ me crazy here.”

in the past week, satoru’s done so much for you, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. on the day after your breakup, he picked you up from your house and took you for a picnic entirely curated by him. on the second day, he made you breakfast, lunch and dinner—it wasn’t the best food you ever had, but it was definitely the most memorable (in more ways than one). on the third day, he took you out to your favorite amusement park and did everything he could to make you smile—by then, you had pretty much forgiven him, and the giant teddy bear he dropped in your bedroom only made you love him more. the rest of the days were filled with longing glances and little gifts left around your house, which only helped him earn more and more of you back.

so, you figure that satoru deserves what comes next.

“okay,” you whisper.

satoru’s eyes widen and he hesitates before he tentatively asks, “does this mean—”

you don’t let him finish his question, instead grabbing his face and tugging him down into a full kiss. he lets out a soft hm? in surprise, but kisses you back more than gratefully. “c’mon, make me cum,” you breathe when he finally pulls away. satoru nods dazedly and mouths “i love you” before he goes back in you, pace faster than before.

one of his hands snakes down to your waist, holding it in pace while the other caresses your face. you gaze up at him with a soft smile, eyes fluttering open and closed every time his dick hits your sweet spot—which is more times than your body can handle, but you welcome the feeling of him deep inside of you. after barely a couple thrusts, a coil forms in your stomach, growing tighter and tighter with each movement of satoru’s hips.

satoru laughs, chest heaving as he grins down at you cheekily. “i knew you’d forgive me,” he murmurs, pinching your cheek affectionately. “m’ so sorry—”

“shut up and fuck me,” you interrupt, tongue starting to loll out of your mouth as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming all over satoru’s dick.

“as you wish, princess.”

satoru’s breathing slowly changes, becoming more choppy and uneven the closer you watch him get to his high—it’s so, so close for both of you, and when it comes, it takes over both of your minds like a drug. satoru curses and groans out your name, thrusts growing sloppy as he desperately rides out his orgasm. cum shoots out from his dick and coats the inside of your cunt white, dripping out once you physically can’t take any more.

you run your hands all over satoru’s body, clawing and gripping at every inch of skin you can latch onto—satoru’s always been your anchor, and you hope that he always will be. one of his hands leaves the side of your face and tangles with your fingers, holding it down against the mattress as he promises to never screw you over like that again, and you’re only too welcoming to him and his words as you squirt all over his dick. “fuck, satoru—”

he lifts his eyes and meets your own, and unlike you, his vision is clearer than ever. “shoot me if i ever leave you again, baby. i’m serious.”

you raise a shaky hand and touch the side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you murmur, “i know i won’t have to.”

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4unnyr0se · 7 days

Text

❥ being satoru gojo's sugar baby

warnings: rich asf gojo, reader is a bitch in the first part, fem! reader, lingerie, riding, cunnilingus, doggystyle, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, gojo hates stupid people, not proofread, reader gets so spoiled, spanking, asphyxiation

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.6k

Being Satoru fucking Gojo wasn’t easy. Being handsome, rich, and popular with the ladies? Talk about a workout. He had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it all. It’s only the result of being fucking brilliant at business practices, always knowing when to strike a perfect deal. And that bore the fruit of luxury cars, Italian jackets, and beautiful women aplenty. Gojo liked fucking the pretty girls he met in the clubs, sure. They were good for a decent cock-sucking, their expensive lipstick always forming a nice little ring around his dick. Poor things, it was probably the only nice lipstick they owned. Gojo felt bad for them in a way, they would never know what it was like to be spoiled by a man such as himself. They were so fucking fake, expecting to be spoiled just for having a decent pussy to fuck. Don’t get him wrong, Gojo liked fucking the college girls he met in the clubs, but he wanted something that was real. He wanted a good girl to spend his infinite cashflow on, not a whore who didn’t know what a fucking tax bracket was.

He met you at his usual club, not recognizing your face from behind the bar. Hm, you must have been new there, Gojo would never ignore a pretty face like that, even though you were so grumpy looking. Did you hate your job like he hated bimbos? Gojo wasted no time in sitting himself down in your section of the bar counter, ordering a shot of the most expensive vodka the club offered. You called him an asshole and Gojo could have proposed right then and there.

Gojo attended the club every night, sitting at the exact same spot and ordering a different, expensive drink each time. He noticed how you softly smiled when he told the local club bimbos to piss off, no doubt enjoying him shooing away drunken, stupid girls. Eventually you finally caved and gave him your number, resulting in him giving you a kiss on the back of your hand like a prince would.

Every day he would call you, text you, ask about your day. Did anyone give you trouble at the club? If it was a shitty coworker of yours, Gojo would have them fired. It didn’t matter if he didn’t own the club, he was half of the club’s monthly revenue. Gojo could do whatever the hell he wanted, he was practically paying everyone's salaries. His texts brightened your day, along with his visits to the club when you worked long evening shifts. He had stopped ordering drinks altogether, just slipping you a healthy $300 every hour or two. You had refused at first, but Gojo had this really annoying habit of being able to convince anyone of anything. It got to a point where you just held out your hand for the money at the start of every hour, which made his cock throb with desire. You were growing accustom to being spoiled and he fucking loved that. You were spoiled without being stupid, that was so fucking sexy to him.

One night, after a very annoying shift, you invited him to visit your crappy apartment downtown. Gojo jumped at the opportunity and practically threw you into his Bently, no doubt breaking a couple of traffic laws to make it to your place in record time. It was so humbling, your apartment. There were cracks in the fall and the faucet had the most annoying drip, this would absolutely not do. You deserved to live in a fucking castle in the sky, not in this shithole.

Gojo bought you a townhouse a stone's throw away from his penthouse. You protested and groaned at him not to, claiming you weren’t worth it. Gojo quickly shut you up with a passionate and longing kiss, whispering against your plush lips that he would buy you the moon and the stars. After that, you really couldn’t complain. Everything was paid off for the fifty-year lease that Gojo had signed; he was so disgustingly rich. Why did you have to go back to working at that sleazy club? Oh, right, you had to afford to eat and shop. Don’t worry; Gojo gave you a ridiculously large sum of money every week to buy whatever the hell you wanted, sending you more money if you run out. You only spend a couple of hundred dollars a week on groceries, but then there was this stunning vintage Dior dress in a shop window, and you simply had to have it. You sent Gojo a picture that displayed the price tag, and he swore he came in his pants. Fuck, you looked amazing wearing designer dresses. And you were modeling for him; he wanted to marry you so badly.

You bought lingerie one time, lacy and black, and so fucking expensive. Garters and stockings and the works, a gorgeous French design. Gojo just about lost his mind when he saw that photo you sent, driving over to your townhouse as soon as he had an opening. He tackled you in a passionate and longing kiss, ripping off the lingerie with his hands. Whatever, he’d buy you another set. No, twenty more sets.

His lips trailed across your body, leaving searing, hot kisses in their wake. You were covered in Gojo’s bites and bruises, looking like an ancient Greek sculpture. Gojo fucked you right on the floor of your living room, not bothering to carry you up the flight of stairs to your bed. You just looked so good in the lingerie you purchased with his money. His money, his lingerie, his sugar baby. Your sobbing pussy was squeezing his massive fucking cock, sucking him into you like a vortex. Your manicured fingernails left angry crescent-shaped prints on his back, his Italian jacket, and other expensive clothes long forgotten about in a pile next to the door. His cock slammed into you over and over again, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix until you were screaming his name, swearing you were gonna cum all over his cock. Gojo fucking loved hearing your moans; they sounded so expensive when his ringed fingers were wrapped around your throat, squeezing it ever so gently. He moaned into your ear as your orgasm washed over you once more, the third one in the hour. He still wasn’t finished, oh no. He had you folded into a mating press, begging and whining to be cummed in by one of the wealthiest men in the world. And who was he to deny his princess? Gojo shot himself deep inside of you, painting your womb with his seed. It looked so pretty seeping out of who; he just had to take a picture. You wouldn’t mind, right? He’d just give you another five grand for a few more dresses.

Oh, even his aftercare was expensive. Running you a bath infused with freshly-pressed lavender and rose oil, soaking into your skin beautifully. Your fucked-out face was flush from the steam in the bathroom, making your already perfect skin so smooth. Gojo never wanted to stop touching you, not for a moment. He wrapped you in your Egyptian cotton sheets and held you tightly in his arms, thanking you for being his baby. As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his precious baby’s ear, you drifted off.

After that perfect night, Gojo basically lived in your luxury townhouse. He would be there when you opened your eyes and when you closed them. There to take you out on romantic restaurant dates and feed you the highest quality sushi there was. He was there to buy half the fucking boutique if you wanted him to. Those dresses were too pretty for anyone else to wear besides you. You no longer protested when he bought you stuff, only kissing his chest while humming a thank you in his ear. The expensive lipstick you wore stained his cheek, not that he minded one bit.

Apart from the expensive gifts, dates, and other such things, Gojo loved fucking you. You modeled every single set of lingerie he wanted you to, especially black and blue sets. He loved your little fashion shows, the way you would always sit on his lap and grind down on his thigh, your arousal soaking the delicate fabrics. His hand would slap your ass, commanding you cum on his thigh and ruin your panties. He’d fuck you face down ass up with an expensive vibrator on your puffy clit, smirking sadistically as you sobbed that it was too much, you couldn’t take it. He’d make you ride him in his home office, making sure his video camera was always off during meetings so no one except for him could see that pretty ass bouncing up and down on his cock, milking it for all it was worth. He’d demand you sit on his face, not letting you off until he had his fill, your cum covering his mouth and face. Gojo would command you to lick it off him, hands squeezing your waist, and was adorned with a leather garter belt.

God, he wanted to breed you. He never wanted to use protection, which you objected to at first. But he whined and pleaded, claiming it would only be once. Well, once turned into always. He always came inside of you multiple times a day. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure that he had fucked his cum inside of your pussy, sticking a finger inside just to make sure it was still there. He would babble on about how you two would have the most perfect wedding and have such cute babies, how he would take care of you. You would be so pretty, all swollen with his child.

Satoru Gojo took care of you from the moment the two of you met, your companionship being the most valuable asset he had. To him, you were the most precious thing, and he would take care of you until the day that he died.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut

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fauustic · 1 year

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late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again.

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you."

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue.

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers.

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights?

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working.

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights.

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms. "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished.

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything."

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him.

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted.

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds.

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño."

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina."

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves.

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub.

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive.

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about.

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara fluff #x gender neutral reader #x fluff #x comfort #comfort #fluff

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augiewrites · 2 months

Text

"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them.

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

#stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #stardew farmer #sebastian x farmer #sebastian x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley fic #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian fic #farmer x sebastian

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - vu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 2

wc: 4537

a/n: thank u to the people who requested this <3 so sorry its so longshdkks pls lmk if u want a pt. 2 with a resolution. not proofread btw </3

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan wasn't a big drinker by any means. sure, he enjoyed the occasional drink with his friends, but it wasnt much of a habit. being a member of seventeen, however, it was quite often that he found himself around alcohol. quite a few of his members enjoyed sharing drinks with one another whenever their schedules allowed. jeonghan, being jeonghan, would always join them, enjoying nothing more than to be around the company of his most loved ones. unfortunately, during these instances he was also away from you, seeing as drinks with his friends tended to be right after work, just before he arrived home to you. this would cause him to make his way into your arms later than usual on the days his friends dragged him away to a pub. you didn't usually mind this, only occasionally pouting at him when he'd come home a bit later than usual without texting you about it beforehand.

today was one of the many days in which jeonghan had found himself at a discreet pub in seoul, accompanied by none other than mingyu, seokmin, chan, seungcheol and joshua, who were all pretty heavy drinkers whenever the mood struck them. jeonghan had prior plans today; it was your birthday tomorrow, so he knew he needed to get home at a timely hour in order to allow you to fall asleep in his arms as your birthday celebrations began. those plans were, however, slightly interrupted by the insistence of a choi seungcheol who adored jeonghan's company and insisted he tag along, even if only for a little while. jeonghan didn't see any harm in this, knowing he didn't have much of a tendency of getting drunk at these gatherings. he could easily make an appearance for one or two hours before excusing himself to go find refuge in your arms.

except that did not happen.

jeonghan wasn't sure how events had turned this way. he had lost most of his sense of self five shots in (what the hell was mingyu feeding him?). he began to go in and out of consciousness, still being aware of his surroundings, but not having many more thoughts past that. the one thing that did manage to slip his mind, however, was his plan to go home to you before the clock struck 12, as it was now 1 in the am. he had fully disregarded his phone too, too distracted with his friends to notice the vibrations on the table.

he woke up the next morning at about 12pm, insane headache and in familiar surroundings. it was joshua's house, he was pretty sure. and he wasn't alone. seungcheol and the rest were also located in different areas of the living room which jeonghan had awoken in. how did he even get here, he wondered. must've called a cab last night. but wait, his phone was out of battery last time he checked it. must've been one of the boys then.

none of these things mattered to jeonghan right now, so he simply got up and charged his phone, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water as he made conversation with joshua, who was the only other member awake at the moment. as soon as his phone charged, jeonghan headed over to grab it, immediately noticing a total tally of 19 notifications, all from you. had something happened? you didn't tend to message him so much. he immediately worried, hurrying to open the messages.

turned out he was right, something had happened.

it clicked almost immediately, with the tone of your texts expressing varying emotions as time progressed, and the date above the messages confirming his suspicions; it was your birthday today, and jeonghan was hung over at his best friend's house. he had no idea how he'd been so irresponsible. he knew he'd be a bit later than usual, but he was so sure he'd still make it home to you before midnight. but that had clearly been wrong. jeonghan dreaded it, but he decided to call you, to at least assess if your mood was as sour as the messages showed.

you picked up within three rings, immediately voicing your concerns at him.

"jeonghan? are you okay? you didnt come home last night," okay, you were worried about him! that was a good sign, right?

"i- angel, i'm so sorry. i'm okay. time got away from me and i ended up blacked out at shua's. shit, i'm so sorry, angel. i'll-"

"were you just drinking the whole time?", you paused, sighing before continuing, "you couldn't even message me or anything? you ditched me today of all days to get black out drunk with your friends? are you serious?", you paused again, not giving him enough time to respond, "you made me spend my birthday worried you didn't make it home. with no communication. jesus christ, jeonghan ..."

"angel. fuck. i'm so fucking sorry. i'll come home right now. it's still your birthday! let me make it up to you, yeah? i'll do whatever you want, just-"

"you know what, han? ... just stay there. we can do this some other day. i'm not really in the mood right now. i'll call you later today, okay? love you."

"wait, angel, no. just let me-"

he wasnt able to complete his sentence, as he was met with a beeping sound, informing him the line was disconnected. he stood there dumbfounded at what had just happened, not knowing how to react.

"man, you're fucked," chuckled joshua, who had heard the whole conversation.

yeah, he had fucked up big time.

joshua -

today was a terrible day. well, no. it was an amazing day actually. it was your birthday. it shouldve been an amazing day. except due to uncontrollable circumstances, your boyfriend joshua had to be away from you for the entirety of the week. there was an award show going on overseas, in which your boyfriend and the rest of seventeen had to be in attendance.

he had planned a beautiful day for you, really. he had wanted to spend the whole day with you, tending to your every need. he was going to wake you up with breakfast - prepared by himself, of course. then he would take you out to a secluded restaurant to ensure privacy. he had even planned to give you a serenade (he knew you would just call him corny, but could be be blamed for being in love?). he had communicated all this to you as he lamented his sudden absence to you a week before the day of his departure. you had accepted it, being touched by the mere thought. he'd promised you he would still be with you on your special day. although the award show was that same day, he promised to come back to the hotel as soon as time would allow and provide you with his company even if it was only through the phone.

and now it was that time. seeing as he was in japan and you in his home back in korea, there was no timezone to worry about. you'd simply have to wait at home for him to return and give you a call. it was now 6pm. it was understandable he would still be busy. you knew he had packed rehearsals all morning, so his only chance to call you would be later in the night. he had still sent you a few messages congratulating you on your big day and reminding you to be ready for him at around 8pm.

it was now 8:33pm. you had expected him to be a bit late, so you didn't mind it. the award show had been live, and it had ended at around 7:30. however, you knew it would likely take him a while to get ready and to get back to the hotel. so you waited patiently, knowing your boyfriend to always stand by his word.

it was at 9:33 that you began to worry. you had already sent him a few texts, not wanting to bother him in case something was going on. you pondered about texting his members just to make sure everything was okay, but decided against it. you didn't want to be pushy.

it wasn't until the clock hit midnight that you'd given up. by then you had already called a few times, only being met by his voicemail. at 12:18 you called his manager, knowing that was your last resort. the response you received was disheartening to say the least. he had informed you that your boyfriend and his group had been taken to an after party, claiming it had been a last minute thing, but that they'd all seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. you decided not to voice your annoyance to joshua's unsuspecting manager, instead choosing to go to sleep, sad and dejected.

the next morning when you woke up to 28 messages and 5 missed calls from joshua, you turned off your phone, disregarding him in the same way he had you. happy birthday to you.

jihoon -

despite popular belief, jihoon was not as emotionally constipated as he seemed. he was a great boyfriend, always making sure you felt loved and tended to. you were always one his top priorities, so he would do his best to spend as much time with you despite his packed schedule. you were also one of the only people who made him want to clock out at the end of the day, knowing you'd always be home waiting for him with open arms. jihoon, however, still had the tendency of sometimes holing himself up in his studio. during these periods of time, jihoon would cut off most contact from the outside world, being hard to reach for a few days as he stayed over at his studio without ever making it home.

this week was one of those times. jihoon never really scheduled these occasions. they'd just somehow end up happening whenever he had a spurt of inspiration, being able to conjure an entire series of songs he believed would perform well together. he liked to keep things organized, after all. any time he disappeared for over 24 hours, you could safely assume he was in his studio, not even allowing himself the simple pleasure of going on his phone to message you. for entertainment, he would sometimes allow himself some anime in between work, but not much more than that. he'd still leave the studio occasionally to show up to dance practice and such, but he would not interact with anyone other than his members, his manager, and maybe some staff if need be.

he knew this might be a bit too much, but it was all part of the creative process. as of today, it had been three days since he had left the hybe building, having given his manager full control over his phone as he wished to remain as productive as possible. he knew that one single text from you and he'd haul ass back home, too lost in the bliss of your presence to get himself to do any work. he missed you, of course, but this was not your first rodeo. the two of you had gone through this before, and it seemed like you accepted his weird work habits, having never complained nor shown discomfort over them. which was why he was quite shocked upon finally exiting the building four days later and calling you up in order to finally check in on you, but not finding the usual response.

the first thing he did as soon as he got his phone back was he call a few times, but he had received no response, which was quite strange from you. he knew it was kind of hypocritical to expect an immediate response considering he had gone off the grid for a few days, but he also knew you were usually free at this hour, so he had expected the usual reaction in which you'd jokingly curse him out for ghosting you followed by an invitation to come over.

he decided then to open his imessage, choosing to instead text you and maybe check in on any of the notifications that never arrived due to having kept his phone muted and away from his reach for the past few days. that was when he realized his grave mistake.

from: my love ❤️‍🩹

(sun) baby

(sun) babyyyy

(sun) where are you? i thought u were gonna sleep over tonight? did u forget about tomorrow?

(sun) okay i called u and ur not picking up im gonna assume ur busy. ill call u again tmrrw then. gn hoonie <3

(mon) okay i gave u most of the morning but its 12 now ... i assumed you'd come back yesterday night. are u at the studio?

(mon) are u rlly holed up there today of all days?? we talked about today last week.

(mon) baby :((

(mon) i dont wanna bother u. take ur time. call me whenever ur done i guess :(

that was when your texts had stopped, two days ago after you had seemingly realized he did not have his phone on him. he also noticed a few missed calls from you during those two days, halting upon the second day of no responses from him.

it had not clicked at first, until he noticed the date above the first text, detailing a day before your birthday. the rest of the messages were sent on the date itself, stopping that same day at his lack of response. the realization made jihoon stop in his tracks. how could it have slipped his mind? not only had he forgotten but he had literally left you in the dark during your special day, even continuing his lack of contact for the next two days. his spiraling thoughts were interrupted by you finally calling him back, something that filled jihoon with hope that you weren't angry at him.

"jiho-"

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. i swear to you it just slipped my mind. i'll go home right now and make it up to you, i promise," he interrupted you before you could say anything.

you paused before responding, "jihoon. was work that important? was i that easy to forget? i respect your job, but you decided that day of all days?"

"it wasnt on purpose! baby, please just let me- let me come over and i swear we can have the day together. ill take off tomorrow too. the whole week! im so sorry."

"im ... im not really in the mood to see you right now, hoonie. it's been three days. i thought about just barging in your studio, but i didnt want to be that type of person. i had the stupid hope that you'd show up, that it wasnt that easy to just disregard me, but i was wrong. clearly."

"baby ... im so so sorry. i .. i'll give you your space. can i .. can i see you tomorrow then? please?"

"i'll call you to let you know, okay?"

jihoon held his breath at this, but quietly accepted your request, "i .. okay, baby. i love you."

"yeah, love you too," except your tone was cold, followed by the beeping of the phone, signaling the call had been disconnected.

seokmin -

many people knew seokmin as the embodiment of boyfriend material. or that was at least what many of his fans called him. in reality, he was even better than what cameras showed. he was the nicest, most respectful boyfriend imaginable, always providing you with everything you could ever need and more. he'd come home with flowers on a regular basis, he'd call you every single day to check in on you. he'd make you breakfast any time he had to leave before you, wanting to make sure you were well fed before a new day. he'd go above and beyond on any and every ordinary day in order to show you his utmost affections for you. don't even get you started on your birthday, which was a national holiday in seokmin's eyes. a day dedicated exclusively to celebrating the birth of his beloved? sign him up! nothing beat a day in which he could freely express all types of love towards you. he was over the moon every 365 days, knowing his favorite day would come again and again.

he had a huge day planned for you this year. there was a carnival in town, so he had planned to grab his manager and sneak out there with you for an hour or so before taking you back home. he also planned a cute moonlit dinner out on his balcony upon arriving home. it was all perfectly romantic, just like every other of his gestures towards you. he had the day marked on his calendar, only counting down the days until it finally arrived.

unfortunately for you both, your birthday landed on a work day for seokmin, who actually worked every day, really. but it was fine! seokmin had planned around that. he had his regular rehearsals plus a public appearance at a fashion show in the evening, along with a quick appearance at the afterparty, but after that he was all yours. he had to stay at the dorms this past week, having an extremely packed schedule, but he had made sure to text you a huge good morning paragraph detailing his love for you and how thankful he was you were his (just usual seokmin behavior, to be honest).

the fashion show had passed by quickly, having only taken a few hours. the after party, however, had been dragging a bit. it was now 6:04pm. he had promised you he would be home by 6:30, giving you enough time for the quick outing he had planned, plus a romantic dinner afterwards. he knew he still had time, but he was still worried he might not be able to follow through with his plans. the last thing he wanted was to be late. he currently had no way to communicate with you either, as his manager had possession of his phone while he was in such public schedules.

he lingered a little, making conversation with anyone he knew. there were many familiar faces, with a majority being that of actors who were also ambassadors of the various luxury brands at the event. he even saw a few actors he had been dying to meet. he felt badly at having such a good time while you were at home probably awaiting his return, but that thought left his mind as soon as a few of his musical performer friends approached him, engaging him in conversation. if there was anything seokmin was, it was overly friendly. he never said no to a conversation with friends, always being the energy maker in any and every relationship. however, it was easy for him to lose track of time and space whenever he found himself in conversation with friends, which was how time once again got away from him.

seokmin hadn't realized time had escaped him so quickly until his manager came up to him, quietly interrupting seokmin's lively conversation with his friends to inform him that his phone had been vibrating nonstop. fuck. he completely spaced out. checking his phone, he realized it was now 8:47pm. how had time passed by so quickly? he wad a bit buzzed, but he had no idea how he got caught up in conversation for so long. it was now too late to take you to the carnival, but he could still make it home for the romantic dinner. yes, okay. everything was fine. or at least that's what he thought until finally reading the 10 unanswered messages on his phone (while wincing at the 6 unanswered calls, also from you).

from: my love 😍

(5:32) cant wait for tonight baby <33

(5:32) i even bought a new dress hehe hope u like it ;)

(6:38) baby, are you gonna be running a bit late? it's fine, no rush! just pls let me know so i dont worry haha

(6:49) minnie ... is everything okay?

(7:14) minnie :(( are you coming soon?

(7:45) okay i called u a few times now ... do you not have ur phone on you? idk ur manager's number baby idk how to reach u rn :(

(7:53) they close the carnival at 8, i guess thats not happening anymore is it

(8:16) its so unlike u to keep me in the dark like this. i checked ur location and ur still at the event .. im assuming it ran late?

(8:23) its mean of u to keep me unaware of whats going on minnie

(8:35) okay nvm. u can just stay there. ill see if one of my friends wants to go out. goodnight.

the messages kept getting worse the more he read. he couldn't believe it slipped his mind like this. he planned it for weeks, even adjusting his schedule for it. and now he had ruined it all just because he felt like catching up with some friends.

he wasnt sure what to do. he had kept you in the dark all night, not even letting you know he wouldnt have his phone on him for a majority of it. he knew this was just an accidental slip of his mind, but that still didnt remove the way he hurt you. all he could do now was run home and await for your own return, hoping that you'd understand his mistake.

seungkwan -

such an outgoing guy like seungkwan always had high demand. they did call him the energy maker for a reason. his presence would always light up a room, which was one of the things you loved most about him. you'd met him in a very public setting, being able to witness first-hand how well he got along with, well, everyone.

however, his outgoing personality did come with some faults. due to having such high demand among friends and colleagues, it was sometimes a bit difficult to share seungkwan. yes, he was not yours per say, but he was your boyfriend. you liked to think you had special privileges that gave you exclusive access to his company that not everyone else had. and you did. seungkwan always gave you top priority when it came to sharing his time. he'd always let you know how much he cared for you, always babying you and tending to your every need. there was nothing in this world he loved more than you, his beloved, which was why it was easy for him to put everything aside whenever necessary.

now, you were not one to hog your boyfriend. you never wanted to be that person who insisted on having access to your boyfriend 24/7, nor would you ever want to keep him away from his friends. it was with this mentality that you had let your boyfriend know it was fine if he had previous engagements on the day of your birthday, letting him know that you'd be more than happy that day as long as he came home to you for a nice night together. he'd informed you that he'd be done with work that day at around 4pm, letting you know that he'd pay a quick visit to some of his 98-liner friends afterwards before going home to you. he had apologized to you for the bad timing over and over again, telling you that this was the only day they all had a day off all at once and would not be able to to gather for a few months after that. he'd insisted he would be quick, wanting nothing more than to head back to you as soon as possible. you'd assured him it was okay, being happy he'd be with you on your special day at all.

so now you were waiting. you'd spent part of the day with friends and family, not having seen seungkwan since the prior day due to his stay at the dorms this past week. you didn't mind this, though, as you were used to occasional separation due to his career. he had sent you a message in the morning, wishing you a happy birthday and once more confirming he'd be back home soon, prepared to celebrate your day. when it became a bit later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to continue to wait, not wanting to be pushy while he was with friends. when it became a lot later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to message him. but your messages went unanswered. you then began to call, receiving no response. it went like this until around 10pm, when you had finally chose to just change into your pajamas, only to be interrupted by a call from the man himself.

"baby! i'm so sorry, i just got your messages. i lost track of time, i swear! eunwoo and mingyu called me up while i was with my friends, and they were on live, so i had to go or else it'd look bad. don't be mad at gyu! he had no idea. i was supposed to just stay for a bit, but the live kept on dragging. i swear im on my way right now, i'll be there in-"

"kwan," you sighed, "not even a text? i dont understand. i didnt want to be pushy but .. today? i cant even lie to you. i'm disappointed."

"baby .. i'm so sorry. i completely spaced out. it's totally my fault. i got too caught up with my friends and then when mingyu called, i was too buzzed to even think straight. i- im sorry. i love you. please don't be mad," you could hear him pout from across the line, a bit frantic as he explained.

you sighed again, frustrated since you did tell him it was okay for him to be with his friends, but still sad he had forgotten you so easily, "i'm not mad, kwannie. just sad. i wish you'd called me to let me know you wouldnt be here at all today."

"but i will be! i'm heading there right now, baby, i swear!"

"i dont ... i dont think i wanna do anything anymore, kwan. im sorry," you felt childish and immature, but you really did not want to see him right now. you knew your emotions would only get the best of you. having your boyfriend choose to be away from you on your birthday was beginning to get to you.

"oh," he paused for a beat before continuing, "i- i understand. can i ... can i come over tomorrow morning, then?"

"you have work tomorrow. you have work every day, kwan. you dont have to-"

"please? let me see you tomorrow?"

"i- yeah. okay. i'll see you then."

"thank you ... happy birthday, my love. i love you. please dont forget that."

"love you too, kwannie," you felt sad as you said it, but you knew you still meant it. you just needed to sleep on it to ease the disappointment. or so you hoped.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 3 months

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Hey, could you please do a Percy x daughter of Dionysus headcannons pls?

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of dionysus! reader hcs warning: language, i think sexual references??? idk, mentions of death and grief author's note: i might as well just do all the greek gods daughters x percy jackson at this point. look, i love percy, really i do, but where are the leo requests??? the jason requests??? frank??? luke?? guys, save me from drowning in percy requests

the princess of camp half blood has arrived

even before she started dating percy she was little miss popular

shes like that one friend with like no shame or embarrassment, which in turn makes you have no shame or embarrassment and then somehow you guys are apart of a flash mob.

idk how else to explain it, like all inhibitions are gone

actually, it's like being drunk but still being able to think and what not

she, like her father, had a 'revolt against authority' habit.

lets not forget that dionysus got put in charge of camp half blood bc he was pissing off his own father

also, when new campers come and are like mr. d this and mr.d that, she just goes 'the d stands for dad' and walks away

its her funniest bit

she's actually pretty close with her father, but you wouldn't guess it from the way they yell at each other

"OUT OF ALL THE GUYS AT THIS GODS FORSAKEN CAMP?? PETER JOHNSON??"

"YOU KNOW HIS NAME, DEADBEAT. AND AT LEAST HE'S HOT!"

"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S A DAMN MODEL-"

that's love right there

when no one was looking - and i mean literally no one, if you see this, it's the last thing you see - they had their heartfelt moments

"here. it was the deepest back wine bottle i could find. im assuming that makes it the oldest."

"did i ever mention you're my favorite daughter? by far better than all those other ones...and i'm not just saying that because of the wine."

"I know, dad."

when castor died, one of her baby brothers, the first person she went sobbing to was her dad, dragging pollux with her as they both needed their dad in that moment

then she went running to percy, who held her like she would slip away.

percy found healthy ways for her to get her grief out, having found a secluded part of the woods and just letting her grow and kill and grow and kill those plants over and over again.

she'd later take pollux out there, help him the way percy helped her.

following what happened with castor, mr. d approached percy when his daughter wasn't around.

"look, i know we don't get along and you are quite literally the biggest pain in my ass but...i'm willing to be, er, civil. for her."

"you know what? i can look past the years of slander for her, too," percy replied, shaking mr. d's outstretched hand. mr. d rolled his eyes and went to make a smart comment before closing his mouth.

"and you'll look out for her?"

"with every inch of me."

"good."

as much as she loved her cabin, when she hung out with percy it was always in his cabin.

his bed was softer he'd say, but he actually just considered it neutral ground.

to go into the dionysus cabin would be asking to get choked out by vines.

though, the more percy thought about it, the more she was worth it.

his favorite thing to do with her tho is just explore new york

like i mentioned earlier, girly has no shame and will do a cartwheel on the sidewalk if you so much as think about it

it feels like he's seeing the city for the first time all over again, this time through her eyes

and the world was pretty beautiful through her eyes, percy was learning quickly

tho, not even close to as beautiful as her

cheeky bastard

but he’s YOUR cheeky bastard so you put up with his ass

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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headpats from little shrimpy!

Genre/Tropes: Mutual pining.

Summary: Floyd doesn't know if YOU know that merpeople show they're interested in each other with physical contact, but one head pat from you and he's lost all forms of self restraint. Oops!

Author's Comments: Okay as someone who is HEAVILY FIXATED on moray eels and knows too many things about them and how they interact with other morays (+ shrimp in mcs case) this is such a TREAT. I LOVE THIS. Granted it's not scientific at all but still. Cute.

~~~~~

It would have been such an unimportant action to anyone else.

Having a cute little Shrimpy pat you on the head as they passed by with the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge wouldn’t have mattered to anyone else.

But it mattered to Floyd Leech.

It mattered a lot.

It mattered so much, in fact, that he froze in his chair and stared at your retreating back. Was it just his imagination, or were you walking faster? Jolting out of his seat, he made a run for you and prayed he’d catch you before you disappeared into Azul’s office.

Unfortunately, you made it. Boo. No fun.

Floyd pouted, jiggling the locked doorknob. Azul had a habit of locking it when he was in a meeting, and that’s exactly what he told Floyd after he told him to go away.

How unfair! His Shrimpy was in there!

Officially in a sour mood, Floyd went back to the booth he was sitting in and pouted. He’d just wait for you to come out and grill you with questions! Yeah, he could do that!

...

Floyd Leech could not do that.

He ended up pacing around the Mostro Lounge for a few hours, passing through the kitchen to talk to Jade before he got bored again.

“Did you see Shrimpy pass through here?” Floyd asked, poking his head into the kitchen for the seventh time, “I’ve been waiting for them but they haven’t come out of the VIP Room!”

“The Prefect? They left about ten minutes ago.” Jade hummed, focusing on his simmering cream of mushroom soup.

Floyd wrinkled his nose at the pot before darting away from the kitchen, intent on finding you before you escaped from him once again. You must have slipped out while he wasn’t looking! You couldn’t just pat his head and not say anything!

It wasn’t like you knew the implications, but physical touch was a way for merfolk to show that they were romantically interested in each other. Floyd felt his mood souring even more when he realized that you might have just done that to do it. It might have not even meant anything to you.

“Boo. Shrimpy better have meant it.” he huffed.

It was like the entire school could tell that Floyd was in a bad mood, because nobody dared to stop him as he ran through the halls. Riddle looked as though he wanted to say something, but decided against it as he ducked into a nearby classroom. Floyd didn’t have time to antagonize him right now, though—finding Shrimpy and asking them about their head pat was more important!

Before he knew it, Floyd was bursting through the Ramshackle gate and sprinting up to your front door. You weren’t anywhere to be seen on the front lawn, so Floyd hoped you were inside. If he had to look for you any longer he’d be grumpy for the next week.

“Shrimpyyyy!” he called out, cupping his mouth so the sound would travel farther, “Lemme in! I wanna talk to you!”

He heard loud thumping inside as you rushed down the stairs, the sound of the lock on the door jiggling making him bounce on the tips of his toes.

“Shrimpy!” he beamed, throwing his arms around you the second the door was open.

“Hi, Floyd.” you wrapped your arms around him awkwardly as he leaned over you, crushing you against his chest.

“Hey, hey! Didja mean it? You better have meant it!” he pulled away only to shake you by the shoulders, “If you didn’t mean it I’m gonna be so upset!”

“Oh...Oh, that.” you mumbled, squirming in his hold, “I...You mean the head pat, right?”

“Yes!” he whined, shaking you harder, “Do you like me like that?!”

“Like what?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“Like you wanna date me!” Floyd huffed, finally letting you go.

He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, eyes glued to your face in hopes of an answer. You felt your face heat up at the scrutiny, turning away so you didn’t have to look directly at him.

“Well...yeah.” you mumbled, “I asked Jade what I could do to, um...make you realize that I like you. And he told me that merpeople...really value physical contact? So I thought if I just gave you a head pat that might be good enough...? And I guess it was.”

“Awww, that’s so cute. You went to Jade for help?” Floyd laughed, the high pitched giggles easing your nerves just a bit, “Well lucky you, Shrimpy! I accept. Now come here.”

Floyd pulled you back into his chest and patted your head gently, and you allowed yourself to sink into his embrace.

“Cute Shrimpy.” he giggled into your hair, squeezing you tightly, “I’m gonna squeeze you every day now!”

#auburn's fics <3 #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #floyd leech is a silly guy #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #floyd fluff

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preqwells · 1 month

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♡︎♡︎ SWEET.

simon riley x reader synopsis: you and your fiancé were settling in for the night, ready to go to bed until you insisted on doing a little skincare with him— he didn't know it'd bring about old memories. tags: fluff, slight angst/lots of comfort, mentions of blood word count: 1.8k

There you were again— another night of standing in front of the mirror, your menagerie of face products messily lined upon the white-marbled sink, the hum of a low fan serving as white noise as you got ready for bed. The bathroom’s humidity welcomed you, having just gotten out of a well-deserved shower. A white towel wrapped snugly around you as you reached your hand out to press it against the fogged glass, rubbing the condensation away in short and swift motions. You leaned over the sink in a feeble attempt to get closer to it, the edge of the sink poking at your stomach as your eyes squinted in concentration. An exasperated sigh left your lips, eyes daring to roll back into the back of your head out of sheer annoyance from the inconvenience. A sudden hand snaked around your waist, pulling you into its warmth as you jolted up out of surprise, your shoulders loosening once you put two and two together.

“Boo.” The gruff voice whispered, his voice reverberating from his chest into your frame. A huff of amusement escaped through his nose, seeming quite pleased with his ability to still catch you off guard doing such mundane things as taking care of yourself. He was met with a gentle elbow to his hardened abdomen, your elbow seeming to take more of the blow than him. “Rude, Simon.. I was busy!” You griped, reprimanding your fiancé for sneaking up on you when he was aware of how much you hated that. Years of military training seemed to only hone his stealth rather than diminish it, his tendency to loom in hallways and corners out of pure habit by now. “Uh-huh. Bet you were, love. Quite a shame.” Simon supplied simply, unphased by words that lacked any venom in them. He slipped past you with ease, extending his arm out towards the lid of the toilet seat, letting it fall as he took a seat atop it, legs spreading as he drank in your figure. Simon did this often, almost following you around like a lost puppy— dark eyes simply fixated on you and enamored with your movements. “I was! I was about to put on a face mask.” You said as your hand reached for a nearby packet, the small gray packet crinkling with each movement. Simon’s eyes narrowed in examination of the product, brows slightly furrowed as he took it from you without further hesitation, his eyes scanning it, practically burning holes into it. “Charcoal... paper mask. What s’all this for?” He asked with a hint of interest in his tone, his brows knitted in skepticism. He was aware of your interest in skincare, yet the topic remained foreign to him for the most part. He had no need for it although his skin was beyond needing care. A couple of ingrown hairs from messily shaving in the wrong direction, and purple under eyes that did anything and everything but blend into his skin. Skincare— what the hell does anyone need skincare for? Are soap and water not enough these days?

“It’s supposed to reduce oil by pulling blackheads out or something, I think.”

“Your skin’s oily?”

“Isn’t yours too?”

“Dunno. Just usually scrub the shit out of it and roll out of bed good as new...” He mused, rotating the packet between his index finger and middle, offering it back to you after he was done. Being in the military left little room to worry about the condition of his skin, the only liquid meeting his skin being water, sweat, and blood— his own... most of the time. It was a folly thought to think you believed he was informed about the condition of his skin, stifling a small laughter caught in his throat. You gently took it from him, attempting to rip the top of the plastic packaging off and absentmindedly setting it aside before an idea crossed your mind. Simon sensed this, his eyebrows slightly raised as interest peeked through his poker face.

“Si…” You began sweetly, your voice comically raising an octave in an attempt to persuade him. As predicted, Simon’s resolve slowly crumbled at the sweetness in your voice, mentally cursing himself for being such a sucker for you. “What is it?” He softly inquired, his head cocked slightly to the side as he awaited your words. “Would you want to try this with me?”

"Try what?"

"A face mask— don't act stupid."

"If I wanted to act stupid, I'd take notes from you, lovie."

"Oh, ha-ha." You stuck your tongue out at him, eliciting a huff of amusement from him. He remained quiet as he gently took ahold of your hand, getting your fingers to loosen their grip on the packet. His eyes scanned the foreign piece of plastic, reading the ingredients it contained. You caught his attention, moving closer to him as you pointed out the ingredients.

"These are just all the things it's mixed with. Niacinamide is supposed to help with oil reduction, the aloe is for calming inflamed skin..." You trailed off as you gestured for him to read the rest. He gave you a look that practically screamed, 'You don't need any of this', but he obliged in the directions you gave him anyway. Everything checked out with what you said, not that he'd doubt your knowledge. You always knew about little facts, odds and ends here and there-- maybe that's why you kept wiping the floor with him whenever you two would watch Jeopardy.

He inhaled deeply for a moment before letting the puff of air out through parted lips, finally giving you a nod of acknowledgment at your earlier offer. "Yeah, sure." He agreed, shrugging it off as if it were no big deal. The corners of your lips tugged to form a huge grin as he handed the packet back to you to rip open. You took a step forward between his legs, his dark brown eyes watching you with rapt attention. Pale eyelashes flicked up to trail your features as you struggled to open the packet, much to his delight. The shape of your lips, the way strands of your hair would fall into your face and catch against your long lashes that dropped over your eyes— Simon was by no means a saint, but God, did he want to be one for you. His hand found its way to your clothed hip, his thumb rubbing small circles over the fabric.

"Aha! Got it!" You threw your hands up in the air, fists clenched as you celebrated your small victory of getting the packet opened. "Ready?" You eagerly asked, practically teeming with joy. He stiffened slightly at your words, his eyes straying from yours for a moment. He didn't know what came over him— you had seen his face a thousand times, hell, it wasn't like he was wearing a mask now. Maybe it was the way that all these face products served as a reminder that he didn't have perfect skin. Better yet, it served as a reminder he was far from perfect himself. Scars littered his body, some from even when he hadn't been in the military— each scar on his body told a story, some nastier than others. "Yeah." He responded bluntly, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. You were his fiancé and accepted him wholeheartedly— he knew that. Your relationship had been through hell and back to get to where you are now. Countless missions he had gone on that you were convinced he wasn't going to come back from, dreading the day that you'd only have his dog tag to remember him by. You were the only person he had left and gave a promise of coming back to— everything be damned if he didn't claw his way back to you every time.

You fished the paper mask out of the packaging that was soaked in product, his eyebrow twitching in curiosity about how it was going to be applied. "Close your eyes." You cooed as he stared at you for a moment before his eyelashes fluttered shut. Your expression softened as you straightened the mask before placing it over his face, the coolness of the mask sending a chill up his spine. You began smoothing out the mask with your thumb, delicately mapping out his features. His nose was crooked from the time he told you he broke his nose at age 18 for getting into some barfight at a local pub, which served as no surprise since you were well aware of his temper when it was directed towards others. Craters of acne scarring embedded into his cheeks from his nails digging at the painful hormonal acne he had suffered from until the ripe age of 22. The scar on his chin from when he had scraped it on a rock as a rookie in training for the military. All of what made Simon, Simon.

"You're handsome." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know it." He replied, his voice mirroring yours. You gave him a weak smile as you shook your head, your thumb still smoothing down the edges of the mask. He always hid behind his cocky demeanor, vulnerability masked by his dry humor. "No, I mean it." You mumbled as a moment of silence fell between you two, filled by the low hum of the bathroom fan. His hand was still resting on your hip, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh blanketed by polyester. He didn't say anything in response, opting to say nothing as he blinked a few times, his gaze falling on a nearby bath towel that was strung up to dry. Even though his words failed him, you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile threatening to grace his features.

The rest of the evening continued with him learning more about skincare, letting you ramble on about which products you were looking forward to getting in the future. Night fell as quickly as the evening ended, landing you two in the comfort of your shared bed. You fell asleep before he did, practically swallowed whole by the cotton blanket you two had picked out a week ago. Maybe it's too big, he thought to himself. His eyes landed on your sleeping form, watching as your chest rose and fell rhythmically. Your hair was sprawled across the pillow as moonlight filtered in through the curtains, almost giving an illusion of an aureole of light surrounding you— he could've mistaken you for an angel itself if he were half-asleep, honestly. He reached out for your hand, gingerly taking it in his as he admired the ring he had proposed to you with. His index finger grazed across the band of gold, the reality that you were his pulling at his heartstrings.

He fell asleep with you in his arms that night, peppering kisses to your temple before bringing his face down to rest in the crook of your neck with him tucked at your side. He wasn’t burdened by nightmares for the first time in a while— he dreamed.

banner credit: @/saradika

#cod x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost mw2 #simon riley x y/n #fluff #simon riley fluff

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obsessivevoidkitten · 9 months

Text

Your Guardian Angel

Male Angel Yandere x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Extremely dubious consent, stalking, possessive yandere, jealous yandere, general yandere behavior, manipulative yandere, emotionally manipulated reader, reader dies nonviolently but the story continues with them in the afterlife, reader's boyfriend momentarily has cancer, religious themes and concepts, heaven, angel disguised as a demon, mild biting, soul claiming, heartbroken reader) Word Count: 2.5k (This was written within one late night/early morning writing session and was not beta read, I hope you all like it and I apologize for any errors.)

Not everyone receives a guardian angel, there are simply too many humans in the mortal plane to meet that type of demand. Instead guardian angels are allocated based on greatest need to those who might be most vulnerable to dark forces and to those with stronger souls who would be too dangerous if corrupted by the likes of a curse, demon, or vampire.

But you were one such soul. Perhaps the trials you had struggled through in life had left your spirit bruised and battered and dark entities were primed to take advantage.

Or perhaps the things you had experienced had strengthened your will and that was reflected on your soul, making it a tempting mark for corruption.

Either way it really didn’t matter, the result was the same. You had a guardian angel, Eriphel.

Eriphel was, relatively speaking, still somewhat new to the work of guarding humans. He had been at it for a few human generations. Which was very short, considering the immortal life span of an angel. He was one of the younger angels that had been created for this task.

He protected each charge he had with complete determination, always near his assignment, remaining unseen to the mortal realm despite being on a plane that overlapped with it.

When he started watching you when it became apparent in your early adulthood that you required a guardian the job was no different from any of the others that he had.

But… there was something about you that fascinated him. He hadn’t allowed himself to pay much attention to the personal details of his previous charges.

Eriphel didn’t know what was different about you but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. No matter what you were doing he just had to drink it all in. Watching you do your job, watching you cook, watching you read, watching you do all your little human hobbies, watching you do anything filled his entire being with such foreign alien sensations.

His heart fluttered and his chest filled with warmth and longing. He even felt his pants tighten with arousal for the first time in his life. It was so euphoric… and torturous at the same time. The longer that he was around you the stronger all these sensations became.

After around a year it was no longer enough for Eriphel to merely watch you. To be only a passive observer as your life played before him like a movie he had no control over.

He started sleeping beside you in your bed, wrapping his wing around you protectively. Of course you didn’t know he was there, but your sleep did noticeably improve. No nightmares or insomnia, not on his watch.

Eriphel also developed a habit of hugging you at work, wrapping his arms around whenever you became upset or stressed. It helped your mood a lot.

The angel’s divine light was washing over your soul in these moments and even if you could not see him he knew he was the best thing for you. But he also knew that eventually you would pass away as all mortals did and your soul would slip through his fingers as it transcended to heaven.

He couldn’t allow that, he had to take ownership of your soul in the same way that demons did.

If he made a soul pact with you then he got ownership of your soul when you eventually moved on and then you would be his and his alone until the end of eternity.

But he didn’t have to rush it, you were not in any great danger and he could protect you and keep you alive from any external threat that could threaten you… even if it violated a few rules to intercept mundane physical threats.

He had plenty of time.

Or so he thought.

A bit of time passed and you met someone. A man by the name of Jason. A mutual friend had set the two of you up. You tried not to think too much of it at first, how could this tiny insignificant human have any possible influence on you when your souls had felt the holy embrace of an angel’s wings?

But as the days turned into weeks turned into many long months it became obvious you were in love with him.

Eriphel wouldn’t stand for it.

He had been with you for nearly two years by this point.

He knew your favorite color, he knew your favorite foods, he knew every single password that you had for every website, he knew what expression you had when you were deep in thought, when you were annoyed, when you were in the middle of an orgasm.

There was nothing he didn’t know about you.

As he stood before you in the dead silence of night watching your lover spoon you protectively tears rolled down his cheeks. He had never cried before, but he recognized the behavior from the humans he had watched over.

Something had to be done.

If he could just claim your soul then he wouldn’t need to worry about the relative tiny amount of time you spent in this world because you would spend eternity with him when you passed on.

Eriphel decided he would interact with you directly as you slept. He’d disguise himself as a demon and make a deal with you. Then you’d be his and everything would be alright. He was shaking with the sheer anxiety of what he was about to do, he had barely said anything to a human before and even then that was only with some who were deceased.

That night you had a vivid dream, it was so real. A demon came to you and made you a fabulous offer of wealth beyond imagining. You couldn’t remember what he wanted, but you felt the price was too high. You were scared. You turned him down and ran.

Eriphel should have known an offer of wealth wasn’t enough to gain what he wanted from you, still he thought it was worth a try. He knew you’d at least be tempted by all the good you could do with money.

When you next saw the monstrous demon in your dreams you remembered it even more clearly than you had before. You were in a pristine palace of obsidian and red, richly decadent but with an undeniably sinister undertone.

The demon spoke in a voice that sounded like several people talking in unison.

This time it offered to let your parents live longer, to give them pristine health for their age so that they could spend more time with you.

This time you were tempted, you hesitated. But after some consideration you still declined before fleeing. Your parents weren’t in bad health as far as you knew and them having a few extra years wasn’t worth the price of your soul until the end of time.

Eriphel was homing in on the solution, getting closer to the offer that would have you as his. But he wasn’t there yet…

A couple months passed and you and your beloved Jason moved in together. But tragedy struck as not long after that your boyfriend went to the doctor to get some worrying symptoms looked at.

Cancer. Inoperable brain tumor.

The news broke you, but you had to put on a strong face for Jason’s sake. He had always supported you and been the strong one when you needed him and now he needed you.

Jason fell asleep with his head on your chest as you held him in your arms. You made sure he was sound asleep before you let yourself cry silently.

It took a long time but finally the emotional toll of the day caught up with you and dragged you into sleep as well.

Once again you were in that clean, rich, sinister building of polished red and black. The horned demon standing before you again, terrible and proud.

“I can save him. I can cure him with a snap of my fingers. All you have to do is agree to hand over your soul after your death.”

You were shaky, you couldn’t think clearly after the events of the day, you wanted nothing more than for Jason to live the full life he deserved. If it meant you had to be a demon’s victim and tortured for eternity after your death then so be it, the years you had growing old with Jason were worth any price.

“Yes! Please! S-save him!!!”

He smiled and approached you, grabbing you by your clothing.

“Wh-what are you-”

“This is how a soul pact is sealed. You do want this deal don’t you?” You nodded and hung your head silently as he peeled off each article of clothing one by one. Suddenly you were in a different room, laying naked on your back with your legs propped up on the demon’s shoulders.

You knew he was a wicked and power hungry entity but the way he looked at you was almost like a human looking upon a holy relic. He took his time, shaking hands rubbing up and down every part of you.

This was not how a soul pact had to be sealed, but he couldn’t wait any longer to feel you.

The red skinned monstrosity kissed up your thighs, careful not to harm you with his horns. He was as gentle as a lamb.

When he finally got to the point where he was lining up his large cock with your hole he kept that same gentleness. You thought he’d have just ravaged you but he didn’t do that at all.

The demon slid his cock in you slowly, this wasn’t your physical body and no lube was needed, he glided deep inside you painlessly and moaned loudly as he did so.

Heaven was nothing compared to being inside his beloved darling who before today could have only dreamed of what it felt like inside of you.

As he slid his entire length in and out of you he bit at your chest, hungrily, but not very hard. Not enough to really hurt. Just enough to stimulate you and to taste your skin. He trailed up to your neck and licked, sucked, and kissed there over and over again like it was some drug he was hopelessly addicted to with no chance of quitting.

Your hands gripped the bed sheets feebly as he began to pick up speed. You felt a bit sick. You didn’t think that this would be pleasurable. You thought this would be as painful as he could make it, but it was so good. It made it feel like you were really cheating on Jason.

Even if this was probably just a stress induced dream your brain made to help you cope with devastating circumstances.

Eriphel couldn’t last long, being his first time and doing it with someone so supremely important.

His pace remained steady as his strong hands gripped your hips and pulled you close, slamming you down to his full nuts as he emptied them into you and the two of you shared a mind shattering orgasm. You could feel your very soul being claimed by his magical seed.

The demon kissed you passionately and then you and Jason both woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.

It was the doctor.

He was calling to explain that the machine was busted and was showing false tumors. He wanted Jason to come back in tomorrow for a scan on a different machine. He was probably okay.

The demon had kept up his end of the deal.

The two of you hadn’t slept long but now with the new test looming over the both of you neither of you could manage to go back to sleep.

When the time came the both of you got in the car with him driving and you in the passenger seat. Everything was fine and you both tried to calm yourselves and not get your hopes too high. Jason was likely okay, but there was always that small chance that he wasn’t.

You idly looked at the houses and trees as they passed when you saw movement from the rearview mirror. The demon hissing and lunging towards you. You screamed before everything went dark.

Doctors later examined your body and determined that you suffered a massive stroke. Not really what happened. Eriphel just couldn’t wait to have you, and he never said that he’d let you grow old with that… thing… you called Jason.

No, he said he’d cure him. And he had. It had been easy enough to reverse the magic he had used to give him cancer in the first place.

When you woke up you were in a large white room that looked like it was made out of marble, gold, and silver. The lights around the room looked to be carved out of pure milky white crystal.

You were confused. If you had died by the hands of that monster wouldn’t you be in the place you had seen in your dreams?

“Hello.”

You turned to see a tall lean man adorned in white robes, his hair was sparkling silver, he had a pair of great wings outstretched from his back, the feathers looked as if they had been dipped in the most thin and fragile layer of silver possible. His whole body glowed with a faint white light and his eyes were an otherworldly shade of shining gold.

“I understand you are confused. I am Eriphel, I am an angel that scours the mystic planes for demonic presence and eliminates it where I can. You were attached to a foul demon, a parasite of human misery. I noticed this just in time and snatched your soul at the moment of your death…”

You took in his words while staring transfixed at his beauty. You were really dead then. You introduced yourself and thanked him several times before calming yourself a bit and asking what you desperately needed to know.

“Is this heaven? Will I eventually be reunited with my boyfriend?”

Eriphel had to suppress a bit of rage that began mounting at that last inquiry.

“Sadly, your soul was marked by a demon, you can never enter the proper realm of heaven without being cast to hell, where that demonic entity would surely get you. But you are safe here, in my home. You will have to stay here… forever…”

His voice was mournful, and his eyes were wet with sympathy at your plight… or so you thought. Eriphel was really just crying because his fondest dream had come true. With no one else to interact with and his intimate knowledge of your every like and dislike you’d certainly fall in love with him.

The angel pulled you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest at never being able to see Jason again, and he smiled wickedly as he rubbed your back. No one else would ever come between you again.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exophilia #yandere exo #yandere angel #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #male yandere x gn reader #male yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #My OCs #My OC Eriphel #yandere scenario

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mitsies · 1 year

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» THE TRAIN RIDE HOME ; itoshi rin «

; ↠ itoshi rin sees you every morning at 7. the moment you smile at him, he knows it's all over.

## author's note: i went thru the 7th circle of hell and a pack of malboros while writing this. enjoy! ## contents: itoshi rin x reader, feminine reader, crushing, canon-compliant i think? idk ur both like 17 so it works, confessions and fluff! ## wc: 13.2k (i'm unwell)

itoshi rin likes to count the people as they board the train. it's a habit leftover from his childhood, where he'd sit with his little legs swinging, pointing everyone out to his brother. (passenger 4 wore blue every day, and passenger 18 always had cat fur on his coat, and so on.)

he collected minute details to store in his head, a way to de-stress from the rush hour of his life. every morning at 6, he'd go on a run, and then from his final destination, he'd take the train back. rin was a regular, and an observant one at that- so it was only a matter of time before he noticed you.

you sat diagonally from him, always with your hands in your lap, twirling around the loose threads on the cuffs of your sweater. that was the first thing he noticed about you- the white cable-knit zip-up you frequently donned.

it looked nice on you, he thought. you seemed cozy, almost, as cozy as one could be on a train at 7 in the morning. rin wondered where you were going, since you appeared too young to have a corporate job.

you were on the train whenever he boarded and got off 2 stops before he did. and itoshi rin couldn't help but watch as you left. you carried a canvas tote with a familiar character that he couldn't quite place, and you'd always smiled warmly at the sweet old lady to your right. there were paint splatters smudging your shoes and rin wonders if you liked to draw.

he’d never ask, though. because why would he? you were a pretty person on the train, and he was just another passenger.

rin thinks he’ll settle for just watching, for now. he never expects you to look his way.

it’s a cloudy thursday when you aren’t sitting at your regular spot for the first time in at least a month. rin shouldn’t feel a tinge of disappointment, the way he does in the pit of his stomach now. he doesn’t even know you, so who is he to be upset by your absence?

it’s not until he takes his own regular place that he realizes- you weren't missing. you'd just shifted seats. you were next to him, now, bag in your lap and hands rested on top of it.

rin snaps his head away from you as soon as he realizes you're there, and he can feel his ears burning. you're not even looking at him, exchanging amicable conversation with the same elderly woman, who is now across from you rather than next to you. there's a mother with a little sleeping boy on her lap occupying your regular place, and he presumes that's the cause of your breech of pattern.

he's snapped back to reality when the old lady laughs and says a name that sounds so honeyed and sweet that it couldn't belong to anyone but you.

"you're just the funniest," chuckles the woman, "makes me feel young again."

your smile is wry. "i guess i picked that up from you, mrs. sato."

rin doesn't quite mean to eavesdrop on your quiet conversation, it kind of just happens. you were right next to him, how could he not? and he also didn't mean to sneak glances towards you whenever you were turned away. that was also an accident, a slip-up he was very grateful that no one else picked up on.

it wasn't his fault that you looked even prettier up close. it wasn't his fault that he wanted to memorize how you looked when you smiled, down to the minuscule creases and lines of your cheeks.

you bid mrs. sato goodbye with a polite tip of your head when the train reaches your stop. your shoes have new paint stains, and your jacket is collecting more lint. rin wonders if you've noticed. and he watches you go long after you're gone.

he's not expecting to be addressed, so it takes a few tries before mrs. sato gets his attention.

"hello! young man! hello," she waves a wrinkled hand in rin's face and he turns to her.

"so..." her eyes shine with a childlike mirth and rin is a bit scared because what is going on?

"you're not as sneaky as you think you are, boy."

rin stiffens. "what?"

"i see you peeking at my dear friend."

he blinks, unsure how to reply. it's not everyday that the 70-something year old woman your totally-not-a-crush is friends with confronts you about your staring problem.

"huh?" he asks dumbly.

the old woman rolls her eyes and the train lurches to a stop. "well. i'm out of town for who knows how long, and i wouldn't want them to be lonely. i'm sure you wouldn't, either."

she stands with a joking wink and rin fights the embarrassed scowl from creeping onto his face. he's positive that he's red right now, and he's giving his all to not be disrespectful to this elderly woman in public.

"well, be good to them." rin opens his mouth but she's already hobbling away. he sinks back into his seat and wishes it would eat him alive.

rin sees you the next day, sitting in the same place as you were yesterday. he shifts to put a little more space between the two of you, a little embarrassed- his breathing is still heavy from his run, and he's sure he smells of sweat.

you notice and give him a soft smile, though something akin to confusion muddles your eyes. you must be wondering where mrs. sato is, but you don't bring it up.

"sorry," you apologize for nothing. you also scoot a little to the side, and rin almost wants to say 'no, don't move further, you didn't do anything,' but that would be creepy and he doesn't want to be that guy.

so instead he fights his resting bitch face and gives you a sharp nod without meeting your eyes, because his face is already hot from hearing your voice say a single word and he is rather humiliated by his limits. "you're fine."

rin thinks he sounds like a strangled cat and he'd punch himself in the face if you weren't right there. but you give him a smile, and he feels a strange elation, and god, was it always this warm on the train?

"you're on this train every day, right?" your voice is hushed, and rin wonders if it's because you're trying not to disturb the mother and her child (who are still cuddled into your usual spot) or if that's just your demeanor. either way, he wants to find out. he wants to know you.

"i am."

you seem to consider his words for a moment and rin realizes that this means you know him. or, at least, know of him. you've seen him every morning just as he's seen you- the realization sends a strange spark through his stomach.

"where are you headed to so early?"

"home. i run out here and take the train back."

"you're a runner?"

"something like that."

you hum, and before you turn away, rin speaks again. "where are you going?"

he watches as you turn your head back towards him, a genuine smile forming on your face. "i work at a primary school. it's not an official position, but i'm kind of the art teacher."

he raises his brows. "art teacher?"

"yeah! i started off as a volunteer, but i guess i fit better since i'm younger than regular teachers," you shrug, and rin thinks he could listen to you talk forever.

your voice is beautiful, he thinks. it suits your name, and you face, and he can't think about it much longer because otherwise he'll start burning alive. he's still not looking at you when you introduce yourself, because for the sake of his dignity he doesn't think he can.

he already knows your name but he thinks it sounds even prettier falling from your lips. and god, he messed up, because now he's thinking about your lips.

"itoshi rin," he manages to get out when it's his turn to introduce himself.

"itoshi rin," you repeat, and the boy thinks he might die right then and there. what is wrong with him?

you're about to say something more but you get a look out the window and realize it's almost your stop. grabbing your bag, you stand as the train stills.

"this is me. i guess i'll see you tomorrow, then."

"see you."

and then you're gone, just like that. the morning train is silent once more, save for the whirring as it begins to run again and the footsteps of passengers finding their places.

rin decides that he can't wait until tomorrow. he's not sure why.

over the next few days, you and rin grow closer. or, you'd like to think you've become closer. you talk a lot more, about everything, and he sits and listens.

he knows about your favorite student at work, and how he had given you the doraemon tote bag that you always sported for your birthday last year. he knows about your cat named snorkel and how your friends always tried to set you up on dates. he knows about your favorite foods and how you hated sleeping with wet hair.

and rin decided that he would do anything to hear you talk. he acted uninterested, sure, but he hung off every word you said. he engraved every single sentence into the details of his memories, stowing away any information you'd give him in the catalogs of his brain.

it came to a point where every single one of his thoughts were tainted with the knowledge of you. you were all he could think about- he saw you in every crowd and smelt your perfume in the wind even when you weren't around.

it was pathetic, really, the way he searched for you in everything, and the way you appeared to him, too. especially since this 'infatuation' was the product of a few measly mornings and some half-asleep conversations.

this was pitiful, rin thought, he was pitiful. but he kept coming back.

(..and it was especially pitiful because you were kind of annoying.)

your smile was as radiant as it was infectious, and you really, really liked talking. you might've been a little hesitant to speak to rin at first, but that certainly wasn't true anymore. with the way you ran your mouth, anyone would think you'd been friends for years.

rin hated how you left him without things to say. he couldn't muster his usual cruelties when he spoke to you. usually, he just hummed along or gave you minimal replies. but the flow of the conversations you had were never dull, and they became a highlight of his day.

"you'll never guess what happened," you started, as soon as rin took his usual seat next to you one tuesday morning. he uncapped his water bottle and took a sip as you continued.

"yesterday morning, i told you about how we were doing an animal painting activity, right?"

"yeah."

"okay, so i had just finished my example and instructions, and i was helping this one little boy. he's really sweet, by the way, he just doesn't really like... paint. which is kind of counterproductive."

"mhm."

"but anyways, this other kid comes up to me- she's tugging on my sleeve, and she says 'i made you something!' and it's not like i never get paintings from students, so i'm all like 'oh, thank you! what is it!' fully expecting it to be just some drawing, right?"

"right."

"but she hands me my bag!"

it's then that rin notes that you aren't carrying your usual tote bag. instead, you have an old canvas satchel that's cute but not nearly as endearing as your previous one. he frowns.

"it was fully covered in paint- like, it was all over her hands and everything. no way i'm getting that bag back. so messy," you shudder.

"it was the one your student gave you last year, right?"

"yeah. i'm a little sad, but i can't be too upset. she was like, 7 years old. they do that."

you begin to prattle on about some other inane topic, and for the first time since he's met you, you don't have rin's full attention. you don't seem to notice, but he's already adding another item to his mental checklist.

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

the following day, when rin boards the train, he doesn't greet you. he's holding something, and when he sits next to you he wordlessly drops it on your lap.

"what's this?" you fumble with the item in your hands- it's something light in a plain paper bag. rin doesn't reply, crossing his arms and slouching down in his seat. he stares straight ahead, eyes probably burning holes into the side of the train.

"okay, grouch. don't say anything, then."

"just open the bag, dumbass."

"jesus, fine."

you reach into the parcel, pulling out a denim bag. it's roomy and well-crafted, and a set of pins are stuck into the side. you recognize familiar cartoon characters, a paint palette, and a little train. for the first time since you've met rin, you're not sure what to say.

you stare down at the bag. rin stares at you. when you look up to meet his eye he whips his head away. but then he hears a shuffling, and your arms are around his neck, and he's frozen.

you're hugging him, and he can smell your hair, and he can't say a word. he thinks your shampoo smells like peaches. he would ask you if he was right if only he could find the words.

you're gone just as soon as you appeared and rin misses your warmth, but maybe a bit of it has transferred to him because he's all hot beneath the collar of his crewneck and he's feeling his face grow uncomfortably flushed.

he slumps back in his seat as you fiddle with the enamel pins- they're dainty and unique, and you're a little taken aback by how thoughtful they are. "i love this."

if rin were to try and form a coherent sentence, he thinks he might combust. so he just hums an 'mhm' and pries his gaze back to the opposing window, a little humiliated by how difficult it is for him to take his eyes off you.

he thinks he's done a pretty good job of cooling himself down until your hand is on his forearm. the contact feels icy against his hot, flushed skin and it sends a shiver down his spine as he turns to meet your gaze again.

"thank you," you say and your hands gently squeeze his arm, "this means so much to me. really."

this isn't the first time you've left him speechless, but it's the first time you've witnessed just how potent your effect on rin really is. you smile at him again before leaving him be, continuing to fiddle with the bag while he recuperates.

you keep talking at him but it's in one ear and out the other, and by the time it's your stop he's only a little bit better. you stand when the train stops and the window's light trickles through the opened doors and falls upon your lips like they're being highlighted just for him. he blinks the thought away.

"i'll see you tomorrow morning, rin," you say as you hold your bag close to your side, its new contents sitting heavy in the bottom. rin only nods and crosses his arms.

he hopes that little expression can contain the vast expanse of indescribable emotions that he feels for you, but he knows he's unfair for that because even rin himself hasn't been able to comprehend them.

he's not sure why he doesn't see you as a bother or distraction. he's not sure why he'd be disappointed whenever you didn't continue a conversation or praise the littlest things in a way he'd never expect from anyone else. he's not sure why he's so determined to make you smile, and he's even more uncertain as to what the strange, strange sensation he experiences whenever he succeeds is.

he's not sure, he's not sure, he's not sure, but he thinks he loves it.

he frowns. rin loves how you make him feel. his frown grows deeper at the realization. his eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back against the edge of his seat, a dull thump sounding as it hits the metal.

he thinks he'll ignore this realization, for now.

it's almost a week after rin's gotten you the bag, and it's become your new everyday option. he can't help but think it looks especially good with your white zip-up and he applauds himself silently for his fashion choices.

the bag already has some tiny, colourful fingerprints decorating the sides and streaked up from where you'd presumably snatched your property out of your students' grabby little hands.

the thought makes his lips quirk upwards into a tiny little half-smile, one that's barely there but you pick up on all the same. pausing in the middle of your sentence, you ask him: "what're you thinking about?"

if rin was smooth, and if he was interested in you, he'd reply with 'just you, babe,' or something else that would make you blush and make him want to die inside. but rin is not smooth, nor is he sure how he feels about you.

it's nothing short of sickening, how you continue to take residence in his mind constantly. if he thought it was bad when he'd first started talking to you, it was a thousand times worse now. rin kind of wishes he could go back in time for the sole purpose of beating the shit out of the past him as a warning to not let you do this to him.

because, if he was being honest, he was scared. the premonition that his feelings toward you might be something like attraction was horrific because god, what was he supposed to do?

his entire life was dedicated to being the best. he was born to be on top and he'd die on that podium, looking down on everyone else. in the past, he'd cared about nothing else but winning.

his dreams, for the longest time, were plagued by pedestals and gold medals, and trophies with his last name but someone else's first. he'd fall asleep to his mind's eye envisioning blood pooling in his gut as he bled for his crown, his crown that was always out of reach.

and then you showed up in them. rin couldn't decide if you made his dreams better or worse. (okay, that was a lie- definitely better, but he's not ready to admit that quite yet.)

in the midst of his bad dreams, you'd come to him, sitting pretty on the train next to him. you'd talk but he'd never be able to remember what you said come morning.

this was bad, rin thinks, he was bad. he was awful and horrible and wrong because he should be dreaming about winning and not you. you were distracting him, being on his mind all the time. while he ran to the train stop, a task that usually cleared his tired mind, all he could picture was you, you, you, waiting for him.

that was another thing. you were waiting for him, and he couldn't not show up. rin's considered changing his routine so he could keep away from you for the sole purpose of fighting his maybe-crush and being able to focus on his sport. he's thought about not replying to your texts, which you sent every afternoon to check in and ask how he was.

but then he pictured you, alone on the train, and he couldn't. the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him made his skin crawl. what if that boy who sat on the other side by the door tried to talk to you while he wasn't there?

no, no, rin couldn't have that. not when he liked you this much- it was far too late to let go. he'd already done this to himself.

so he keeps coming back, every single morning, just to see your face. there was no denying it anymore- rin liked you. too bad he'd never say a thing.

"rin?" your voice snaps him out of his thoughts. "what's up?"

he glares at you like he hates you, but you know better and so does he. "nothing."

you tilt your head. he stares right back at you before conceding. "the paint smudges on your sweater and stuff."

"hm. what about them?"

"your job must be hard."

if he's being honest, rin doesn't really care about what you do. he's just trying very hard to not let the fact that he was smiling thinking about you show.

"it's not that bad," you say, "well, i mean- tedious, sure. plus i hardly get paid, i'm not under contract, and they could just decide to stop paying me at any point since there's nothing making them, technically."

rin raises an eyebrow. "and you say it's not that bad?"

"it's not! really!"

"and you work with kids."

"yeah, so not that bad."

"that's worse." you make a face at him and he fights another smile because how do you do this to him so easily?

"i swear it's not as bad a job as it seems."

"it's not even a job, technically," rin points out.

"okay, okay, you can stop making fun of my position, rin."

your use of his name makes his heart do something weird and nauseating in his chest and he hates it. "whatever."

you hum in contemplation before sitting up in your seat with an idea. "how about you come with me today?"

rin stiffens. "what?"

you don't flinch at his unintentionally bittered tone, and rin feels something strange inside him again. he feels a bit like a fish out of water, being put on the spot like that.

"well, i mean- only if you're free, of course," you twist away from rin ever-so-slightly as you start to backtrack, hands finding their way to fiddle with a strand of your hair, "i don't wanna overstep or anything, and i know you're probably busy and we're just-"

"no."

rin's voice cuts you off. "oh. that's cool, i'm sorry i asked."

oh. that wasn't what he meant to say at all. "no, no, wait. i mean no, stop talking."

"oh. i said i was sorry."

he's really just digging his own grave, at this point.

"wait, wait, wait. i mean.. no, stop talking, yes, i'll go with you."

it's almost comical how you brighten up in a heartbeat, and a strange twinge of pride at the fact that his presence could do that to you zips through his chest.

"oh, i'm great. i mean- that's great. this is great. i'm so excited." you fiddle with the sleeves of your sweater and the enamel pins on your bag that he got you jingle and rin thinks that he's stupid for ever considering avoiding you.

and again- if he was a better man, he'd say so. but he's not, so he side-eyes you instead. "are you sure this is even allowed?"

"i am. as long as you're not some kind of criminal, or whatever." you look back at him, eyes creased with amusement. "you're not, yeah?"

"nope. just a few aggravated assault charges." he's only kind of joking (because injuries on the field do not count against him outside of it), and his voice is dry with sarcasm. he's not expecting you to laugh but you do, and he thinks everything he's done to lead up to this moment has been worth it.

"lovely. then you'll be fine. i hope you're good with kids, rin."

his mouth falls into a frown. he'd forgotten about that. he's about to say something but the train lurches or a stop and you're standing, prompting him to follow.

it occurs to rin that this is the first time the both of you have stood next to each other. the slight widening of your eyes at his obscene height is something that amuses him, but he chooses not to comment on.

he also keeps silent about how your beat-down and paint-smudged pair of shoes squeak ever-so-slightly as they exit the train. you move with a slight bounce in your step that makes the shoes pivot and squeal a little in a way that should irritate rin and not endear you to him the way it does.

it's only a short way to the school you work at from the train station, and you talk about menial things the whole way. rin's arms are crossed uncomfortably over his chest as he walks, and the plush insides of his deep blue sweater suddenly feel too hot, and he's feeling clammy even though the sun is hardly out.

you walk through the front office with rin in tow, tailing you while looking incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. the front office ladies chuckle like they know something he doesn't when you check him in and rin kind of wants to punch them. he doesn't, though.

when you lead him to your classroom (or, more precisely- a large storage room that was reassembled with tables and chairs to become a classroom) he's not surprised to find it colorful and bright.

the walls which aren't big windows are practically covered in various pieces- hand turkeys, landscapes, various misshapen animals, crude imitations of people- and a few pieces that are undoubtedly from a much more skilled artist. there are beautiful scenes that look like they're from movies, and there are unique interpretations that seem like they took painstakingly long to create.

he walks up to one- a faceless pair of women. one is sitting on the kitchen counter and the other stirs a bowl of something that looks like cookie dough. it's simple, it's sweet, and it's beautifully made. "you painted this?"

you're placing your bag down on the chair that sits behind the teacher's desk, which is just a repurposed old table. "i did. that's really old, though. kind of embarrassing."

"it's not." his finger traces his newest observation about the painting- your name scrawled in the corner. "it's not."

he's not looking at you, but he knows you're staring at him. he won't look back now, but he wonders what you're thinking. he imagines your quizzical expression, and he imagines the sun filtering in through the windows making you shine as you absorb every colour in the room.

he imagines you looking at him, and he thinks it's the prettiest sight he's ever thought up.

the bell rings after a beat of silence passes. the shrill noise draws you both from your stupor, and rin turns to see you walking around, busying yourself with placing a piece of thick watercolour paper on each desk.

"well," you say, and rin might be imagining it but your voice is a little choked, "we've got.. 2 classes? yeah, two. both will be 7-year-olds today. think you can deal with that?"

rin's eyes narrow. "i thought you said i wouldn't have to deal with any kids."

your face contorts into a smile. "yeah. i know. you can just sit in the back and watch. i'll get them to not bother you."

you gesture to a tiny little desk situated in the back corner of the room and rin cringes internally as he walks up to it. he sees you biting back a laugh and glares. as he takes a seat, his knees are up to his chest and his arms are draped uncomfortably over them.

"this isn't funny," he deadpans as you bite your tongue. with a humiliating amount of effort, he removes himself from the tiny chair and walks back over to the teacher's desk where you stand, crossing his arms over his chest.

"in my defense, i didn't compensate for how tall you'd be. you can just be at my desk, i don't mind."

you place your bag down onto the floor in the corner and rin moves to take your seat. all you have on your desk is a pile of books that are collecting dust, and a dingy computer setup that seemed like it was from the stone ages. there's a series of sticky notes on the black screen- he knows he shouldn't, but he reads a few.

there's a few about restocking some supplies, and even more about various lesson plans. rin thinks you put an awful lot of work into a position that technically isn't legal. and then, his eyes land on his name- in pink pen that stands out on the yellow paper, 'itoshi rin' is scrawled on with a myriad of stars and hearts and squiggles surrounding it.

rin blinks, half expecting the message to vanish. it doesn't. his hand reaches out to take the note but he's interrupted by the room door slamming open and a gaggle of children bursting in.

their teacher seems exhausted, and rightfully so, especially considering it was barely 8 in the morning. she takes a seat close to the exit and slumps over, seemingly asleep, as the students spread around the room.

they take places behind desks and fist the provided paintbrushes in their little grubby hands, chattering amongst themselves as if it's not insanely early. rin watches as you bounce around the room, conversing with the kids who call your name.

his gaze doesn't leave you once, as you move to the front of the classroom to begin your speech on today's assignment. he's only half-listening, but he catches short phrases. it's something about practicing watercolour responsibly and learning to work with a new medium.

rin's never been an art kid. he's never seen the appeal. but the way you seem so excited to be there, and so genuinely happy to teach, makes him think that he should be listening, too.

the kids start to paint, now. he notices how some of them start with a pencil, tracing crude outlines of whatever they're trying to make, while others dive headfirst into the watercolour. you weave around desks lavishing them in praise, and rin wonders what you were like when you were their age.

little feet begin to scramble around the classroom as the assigned seating chart dissolves with time. you don't seem to care all too much, continuing to help a student- a little girl, with tiny, short pigtails tied off with purple scrunchies.

he doesn't realize he's been watching you until the girl catches his eye and says something he can only kind of make out. "who's that guy lookin' at you all mean?"

her finger points straight at rin, and he promptly pretends like he was very invested in the blank screen of your 1900s computer. he sneaks a glance back to see your eyes fixed on him before returning to the girl with an awkward laugh.

"ah, him! he's.. my friend. he's just sticking with me today," you smile, and feels himself sink into the chair deeper. he's not sure what he feels at the use of the word 'friend' but he doesn't think he likes it.

but it was a fine answer. it was decent, it was true- what, did he expect more? if he did, clearly he wasn't the only one because the little girl with the pigtails gives you a look. rather loudly, she exclaims "you mean your boyfriend?"

you blanch at her words and rin's subtle gaze returns to a full-on stare as he watched your reactions. "asami, not so loud! indoor voices," you try to sound authoritative but your voice splinters and sea of little faces is suddenly turned to face you.

and then, slowly, like a horror movie, the 20-something 7-year-olds pivot to face rin.

a little voice speaks up. "you're ms. teacher's boyfriend?"

in a normal scenario, rin would probably linger on the fact that you were addressed as 'ms. teacher' as if you had no other name. but with an ocean of inquisitive eyes, yours especially, he felt a little frozen. just as he was about to snap open his mouth to say something probably cruel and snippy, you jumped in.

rushing to the front of the crowd you wave your hands frantically, trying to maintain your cheery disposition while sweating through your clothes with anxiety. "no, no! he's- he's not my boyfriend! and don't bother him, please, he doesn't.. speak the language! he's from.. germany!"

it's a bad lie. horrible, even. and it would take a fool to fall for it- either a fool or a collection of unbelievably innocent children.

"oh!" one pipes up, "is that why he's so mean and doesn't talk?"

you furrow your brow. "we don't call people mean, remember."

and just like that, everything is back to normal. or, at least, however normal this situation could be. the students resume their artistry and continue scurrying like mice around the room to show off their creations or grab fresh sheets of paper.

you walk up to rin, and he hopes his ears have turned less red at this point as you sit on the desk in front of him. "see? not so bad."

he narrows his eyes. "are we in the same room right now? did you not just see that?'

you sigh dramatically and place your hands behind you as you slouch back. "maybe they're right. you are mean."

"okay?"

"you should be ashamed of yourself, y'know."

"you really do sound like a schoolteacher." at this you laugh and swat at his shoulder, eliciting a tiny could-be smile from rin. "never say that to me again."

and it seems like cutting rin off is a fun activity, because a little boy with messy brown hair skips up to the desk and basically shouts, "hello!"

the thing is, he's not talking to you- he's talking to rin. big, doe eyes are fixed on the striker expectantly, and he rolls back and forth on heels while clutching something in his hands behind his back.

rin blinks. "hi."

he sounds mean, he's sure, and definitely not german, but the kid doesn't seem to notice or care. "i think germ-in-ey is so neat! i made you this!"

the country is pronounced like he's speaking with rocks in his mouth but the boy's smile is bright and he holds a kind-of crumbled piece of watercolour paper in his hands.

it's still dripping and incredibly poorly done. what appears to be a house? or a building of some kind? is splattered onto a green line that might be grass. a blob that could be a body if you squinted hard enough is attached to a big oval with messy dark hair, angry eyebrows paired with neon blue eyes, and the biggest eyelashes the world has ever seen. they extended from all the way inside the eye to the sticks that rin supposes must be hands.

a random rectangle with doodles inside is in the top left corner. a little label reads 'german flag' in pencil.

rin blinks at the paper and looks dully at the kid. he feels your eyes staring into him, too, and he opens his mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.

"this looks bad," he speaks before he knows what's coming, eyes widening at his own words. a deep pit of guilt opens in his stomach as the boy retracts his hands with the paper. oh, my god, what did he just say?

he is unbelieveably lucky that you are still next to him at that moment, because you jump in to save the day yet again:

"haru! don't worry about him- he's german, remember? he doesn't know how to say what he means! bad in german actually just.. uh.. means really, really good!"

the boy instantly brightens up again, like a wilting flower back in bloom. "really? that's so cool! i didn't know they spoke german in germ-in-ey!"

you return his bright smile. "how crazy! what a small world!"

the little boy skips away, leaving his masterpiece in your hands, and rin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"oh, wow," you say with a sparkle of amusement in your eyes, "i didn't know you were this horrid with kids."

a grumble of annoyance leaves him, but he's more embarrassed than anything at this point. "and i didn't know i was german."

you shrug. "it was the first thing that came to mind. it worked, didn't it?"

rin ignores your question. "i can't believe you let that kid go off thinking 'bad' means good. he's gonna go around telling everyone that."

"i.. did not consider this," you purse your lips, "it's his teacher's problem. i don't even work here, technically."

"so you're a random person who comes onto campus and spreads lies to children."

a smile splits your face. "at least i'm a nice liar."

"nice?"

"oh. ouch. okay, thanks rin."

and he exhales, and it's no longer just a half-smile, because you see it so clearly on his face- the way his lips turn up at your words as he speaks. "yeah. anytime."

it's then that itoshi rin has a moment of infinite clarity- he's fallen for you. he doesn't like that fact, nor does he understand the intricacies of this romance.

he likes you. that's all there is to it. rin doesn't see why there needs to be any more. it's not like he'll tell you and even though the feeling of repressed and realized emotions in his chest is something a little unbearable, he's dealt with worse. and he thinks he'd rather keep his mornings beautiful than run the risk of messing it all up.

so rin thinks he'll settle for being in your background, as he watches you hop off the desk and move to help the students as they finish their paintings and clean up.

they sing a stupid jingle about keeping things neat that makes you laugh in the way you do where your head tips back just a little, and rin swears it's his favourite sound in the world.

it's another hour and another class before you're finally done with your work. the second one was thankfully a lot less strenuous for rin- none of the students paid him much mind at all, save for the occasional curious glance every so often.

"bye ms. teacher!" the final student belted before leaving, slamming the door with a resounding thud. you wave cheerfully and take a deep breath as soon as the kid is out of sight. "and we're done! how was that, rin? you just got the full fake-teacher experience."

rin stands from his place behind your desk and stretches out his limbs, slightly sore from being in one place for so long. "as bad as i thought it'd be."

"you're always so negative."

"glad you noticed."

you roll your eyes and grab a spray bottle and washcloths off the highest shelves. "help me clean?"

wordlessly, he catches the rag you toss and the other bottle. the two of you work in silence for a few moments, wiping down the desks that the students had done their best at keeping neat. the only noises were the muffled sounds of the cafeteria during lunchtime outside and the ever-present squeaks your shoes made.

the lighting through the window lit the scene golden and turned all the colors and textures and works in your classroom even more beautiful. and not just them- rin thinks that you look breathtaking in the sunlight. a part of him suspects that it was invented just for you.

"what did you think?"

rin looks up at your voice. "hm?"

"what did you think? about this, i mean."

he looks at you for a moment. this is a new expression, the one you're wearing- at least, one he's never been able to observe unobstructed. you almost seem bashful, in the sunlight, refusing to meet his eyes.

"i think," he says, and he's so careful because he thinks he'd die of embarrassment if he misspoke and insulted you again, "that this makes sense."

"what?"

he frowns, not wanting to explain himself. "you loving this. it makes sense."

"i actually have no idea what you mean by that."

he scoffs, "whatever," but you keep pushing, curiously leaning over the table and placing your washcloth down.

"you can't just 'whatever' me. i'm curious now."

"you're irritating."

"i'm aware." you keep looking at him and it's no surprise to him when his conviction crumbles into dust and ash.

"you just seem like an art person." he tries and fails to get his point across. you raise a brow. "are you profiling me? what, do i seem like your starving artist trope?"

"no, no," he grumbles, "like, you're.."

and he's not sure.

rin has no idea how to follow up his words. because he thinks so many things of you- he thinks you're kind, in ways he will never be, and he thinks you're pretty enough to rival the sun, and he thinks you're flat out lovely- but he can't convey it all into one word.

"you're just you," he says. it's a simple statement, said with a conviction that doesn't match the quiet tone of his voice. he speaks softly, like he's afraid you might disappear if he was too loud.

blinking, you meet his gaze, and rin hopes you can see yourself how he sees you in the reflection. he hopes you see yourself like gold, and all the colours in the world, and as the essence of creativity- he hopes you know that he sees you as art, plain and simple.

but your expression is unreadable. he wonders if his is, too. and rin also wonders what you see when you look at him, because you're suddenly inhaling sharply and pivoting, busing yourself with straightening up jaws that don't really need to be fixed.

"well, rin," you say, and your voice is a pitch higher, "i didn't mean to keep you so long. i'm sorry you got held up here."

you're laughing, but it sounds strained, and rin wishes he could go up and smooth whatever's bothering you out from your skin, but that's creepy so he'd rather not.

"i didn't stay so long because you made me or anything. i wanted to."

"oh." you freeze for a split second before continuing to scrub a little too vigorously, "uh. thanks."

"i like your paintings," he blurts out. it's not fitting as a response, and he should've just said 'you're welcome' and moved on with his life, but he feels like he needs to say something, and relieve at least a fraction of the burden off his chest. he likes your paintings, and he likes you, but he can't say that quite yet.

"oh! i didn't take you as an art connoisseur."

"i'm not."

and he was telling the truth- rin knew virtually nothing about art. he remembers his own experiences with the subject, all limited to his pre-teen years in school, where he'd been forced to make whatever the teacher commanded.

his work had always been lopsided and a little fugly, but in the spirit of learning no one had ever said anything. it was always 'that's so good!' or 'you're so creative!' or 'nice cat!' when it was meant to be a tree.

"not even a little bit?" you hum as you lean onto your tiptoes, struggling to push a bottle of cleaning solution back into the space. rin moves to your side, placing it on for you. he misses how you go breathless at his actions.

"was never an art kid," he says simply.

you purse your lips in that stupid way he's noticed you do when something doesn't go right, and shake your head. "i don't buy it."

he raises an eyebrow. "what?"

"i don't believe that."

"you're just.. rejecting my statement?"

"yeah. everyone's an art kid."

rin considers your words before shaking his head. "no. you're just weird."

rolling your eyes, you're suddenly gone again to the front of the classroom, rifling through a set of overworked cabinets that seem to be bursting at the seams. you come back to the desk rin was standing by with a full arm of various supplies- he recognizes paper, canvas, pencils, gouache paints, and brushes.

"everyone's an art kid," you repeat, "you just never had anyone show you right."

"you sound fucking crazy."

"yeah, probably," you reply, motioning for him to sit down on the chair. he complies, and you hop up to take a seat on the desk again.

"and cheesy as hell. like a stupid nickelodeon character."

"that's a little far. be nicer to me! i'm about to give you free painting lessons."

"ones that i didn't ask for."

you sit back on your hands. "you could leave if you wanted."

rin is silent. you smile. "lessons it is."

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

you might have been a little bit incorrect in your approach. rin is kind of a little bit hopeless with art.

"just a straight line," you're practically begging, "just one. you can do it."

rin proceeds to draw another very un-straight line to go with all the other ones on the piece of paper.

that was okay, though! maybe pencils just weren't for him. you could live with that. you'd brought out some paints just for this possibility, after all.

painting is difficult to mess up. you slap some colors on a canvas, call it modern art, and you're set- that was your philosophy. anyone could paint. anyone, you now think, except for itoshi rin.

"are you colourblind?" you say, and you're not trying to be mean, you're genuine, because he had just used the most horrendous choice of color palate he could have had.

"shut up," he scowls, covering his face with his hands. "you're a shit teacher."

you gawk at him. "how is this on me?"

"your stupid 'art kid' philosophy. plus, you've just been staring, not teaching."

you frown. okay, yeah, maybe you had been a little bit stare-y, but it's not really your fault. he just has one of those faces that would be criminal not to stare at. an idea pops up in your mind, and you hop off the desk.

rin turns his head to follow you as you move behind him. "what are you doing?"

"i'm teaching," you bite back playfully, leaning over his figure. you take a hold of his hand with the paintbrush, and you're both so close that you can hear his heartbeat speeding up inside of his chest. you wonder if he can feel yours do the same.

your hand ghosts his before you take a hold, grabbing it gently. his palms are warm and his whole body seems to radiate heat. the skin of his hand is rough and calloused.

"like this," you instruct, dragging the brush slowly across the canvas. it's already a smoother, straighter line than his previous ones. rin remains speechless, but he lets you take control of his movements. you direct him gently and he moves in return, like a slow dance on canvas.

after some time, a scene is playing out on the formerly blank space before the both of you. it's the classroom, complete with the yellowed lighting of the sun coming through the windows and the blocks of color to represent the various works hanging on the walls. it's a crude imitation of reality, but a piece of you and a piece of him, and you think that makes it beautiful.

"see?" you say, breaking the silence, "you did that."

you move to release your grip on rin's hand but he clasps his other one over it without thinking. you blink at him. he lets go, embarrassed.

"you did most of the work," he shrugs off, but it feels like he's just talking to himself, "i was just there."

"hm. you're right, but come on! give yourself some credit."

your attempt to lighten the heavy tension in the air falls onto deaf ears. "i should go," he mumbles, standing.

"oh."

"bye." his words lack the usual edge, and he seems more confused than upset. still, you wonder if you've overstepped and a pit forms in your stomach.

"bye," you say, but he's already out the door.

you try not to be too upset about it, but it's a little difficult. you've liked rin since before you even knew his name, and you were far too stubborn to let it go just yet.

you'd been almost 100% he felt the same, too. but again, your pride wouldn't allow you to make the first move. and his reaction to the closeness didn't bode well for your intentions.

a surge of disappointment consumes your chest and everything suddenly feels a lot heavier. your regular cable-knit feels itchy and too hot on your skin. you bite your tongue.

your friends have mocked you for your infatuation with this faceless 'itoshi rin.' they've encouraged you to move on from this crush that was seemingly going nowhere until almost a month ago, even going as far as to try and set you up with someone. maybe you should finally look into that offer,

you sigh to yourself and flop back onto the hard wood of the desk. oh well, you think, you'll see him tomorrow anyway.

the next week of early morning train rides is missing something.

rin notices it almost right away- how you sit a little farther from him, you you're just a little more skittish and quick to leave. it's a stab in the gut every single time, and he's not sure how he can mend the undeniable rift forming between the both of you.

he's not sure what happened. was it his leaving? had that upset you? why?

the invisible wound of unspoken words festered like mould as the morning conversations grew shorter and stiffer, and he felt helpless like he never had before.

and then, you bring something up that makes his heart plummet.

"this afternoon? i think i have a date, actually."

he shouldn't be mad. he shouldn't be upset. but doesn't he have the right? the person he likes, and ew, he hates admitting that, is going on a date with someone else.

"oh."

"mhm. my best friend's friend- she's been trying to get me to go out with him for ages."

"oh."

"tomorrow night, i think it is."

"hm."

"i hope it goes well."

"why?"

again, rin's mouth runs separately from his conscience. he wants to hit himself. you have no obligation to answer, because the both of you are just friends, maybe even less.

you blink, looking over at him. "i mean.. why not?"

the rest of the train ride continues in awkward silence until you get off. you give him a brief smile but you don't say goodbye, and rin watches your figure walk away until the train starts again and he can't anymore.

there is a very strange emotion, that rin is experiencing. he recognizes parts of it- that same bitter, green envy that curls around his lungs and squeezes til he can't breathe. he's familiar, but never in this context.

and then there's something darker that hurts his chest. it reminds him of growing pains, and of valentine's day, and of things he never thought he could have wanted. it reminds rin of you, and he is so, so distraught.

that afternoon, he waits for your text. usually, your messages are usual, like clockwork. you'd message him around 1 when you were on the train ride home, either to update him about your day or send him a game pigeon game.

he always indulged your messages, and he'd never let you see but you were one of the pinned contacts on his phone.

that day, however, your text never comes.

he's so pathetic for how he sits in the locker room at 2, alone, staring at his phone screen. he's sad for how he's taking a break from practicing at 3 just in case you message. he's stupid for how he spends the next few hours just waiting for a notification that he knows will probably never come.

it's 10 now, and rin has never felt more tired.

he's about to go to bed, having his night clothes lined up on his bed and brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. it was an average, regular day- there was nothing special nor abnormal, but everything just felt so wrong.

he wonders if you were on your date then, as he spits his toothpaste into the sink. he wonders what you wore- if you donned your white cable-knit or your squeaky paint-smudged shoes. he wonders if you carried the bag he got you, pins and all. he wonders if your date held open the door like he would have, or if he joked around with you like he did (kind of.)

rin wonders where you were. he wonders if you were okay.

and then, his phone rings.

your name lights up his screen and suddenly, he's not so exhausted. he answers a little too haistily on the 1st ring.

"hello?"

there's a short pause, but he can hear the way your breath comes in short huffs on the other side of the line. this was strange- the both of you had never called before.

"rin?" your voice is crackly in a way he could accredit to the poor reception wherever you were, but something in his heart wrenches and there's an undertone that is undeniably distress in your voice.

"yeah? what's up?" he's already bustling around his home, though, grateful he hasn't changed yet as he pulls out his shoes.

"are you doing anything?"

"no," he lies.

"i'm sorry then, 'cause i know it's late, but- um, yeah. i'm about to get on the train. like usual, just the night one. but, i don't want to bother you, so-"

"no. keep going."

another silence follows rin's words before you continue. "could you.. come here? i know it's dumb, askin' you to ride the train here just to come back with me but," and your voice cracks, "i don't really want to be alone right now."

rin exhales. he's already outside, walking briskly through the cold night air with his free hand stuffed in his jeans pockets as he makes his way to the train stop.

"i'm on my way."

‧̍̊ ˙ · 𓆝 . ° ｡ ˚ 𓆛 ˚ ｡ ° . 𓆞 · ˙ ‧̍̊

when rin gets on the night train, you're the only other passenger on board. you're huddled up in your usual seat with your knees drawn up to your chin and eyes misty with something dismal. you look at rin and he's heartbroken for you, because nothing should ever make you this upset.

but you offer him a weak grin and move to sit normally, patting his seat next to you. he notes that you are indeed carrying the same bag he got you.

the new distance isn't present when he takes his place beside you. in fact, he's so close tonight that he can almost feel your thigh brush his. he eyes you cautiously, unsure how to begin. thankfully, you answer his questions before he needs to ask.

"remember my date?" rin nods. how could he forget?

"it was kind of awful," you concede with a watery laugh. "he was all fine, at first- but i just wasn't interested. he asked for a second date, and i said no thanks- he just- he yelled at me. called me all sorts of things. i dunno."

his heart tightens in his chest as you keep going. "it's not a big deal but i didn't really- i'm not sure. i'm not sure."

he doesn't think too much about his next actions, as his hand curls around your shoulder. you're all too complacent, letting yourself be pulled into the warm fabric of his crewneck. he hopes you can hear his heartbeat pick up its pace. he hopes yours does the same.

rin allows you to bury yourself in his warmth, to acquaint yourself for a few moments before he starts talking. "last week i went to the grocery store and i saw this lady with her cats," he said.

you glance up at him quizically but his arm holds fast, keeping you there as he continues: "she was old. probably too old to be toting around all those groceries.

"i would've offered to help but then i took another look- she was ripped."

a muffled laugh escapes you. "for real?"

"yeah. i mean it."

"a ripped old lady with cats, huh? what was she getting?"

"blueberries."

he thinks he feels your smile against the fabric of his clothes. "blueberries. that's nice."

"and just a few days ago, i think, i was on my run and i passed by this apartment, right?"

"mhm."

"and i hear yelling. so i stop."

"yeah?"

"on the balcony of the apartment, there was this woman and some guy. they were in their 20s, i think. and she was screaming at him."

"oh? what about?"

your voice is thickening again, but this time with exhaustion. the occurrences of your day were finally weighing on you, rin presumes. he keeps talking.

"something about him being unfaithful. then she threw his gaming console off the balcony."

"oh," you say, with a slight yawn, "that sounds so funny. i wish i was there."

"me too."

rin really should break this habit he's beginning to form. it definitely isn't a great idea to share all his innermost thoughts with you always- but lucky for him, you seem too tired to notice the accidental compliment.

"good for her," you mumble.

"good for her," he repeats.

you tilt prop your chin up on him to meet his gaze. your eyes are heavy with exhaustion and bags are formed beneath your eyes, and your hair is frazzled and messy but rin thinks this might be the prettiest he's ever seen you.

you're dead on your feet, but you're still looking at him. you're feeling so many things and you're still you. his hand absentmindedly flutters accross the back of your head to flatten your hair as you begin to speak.

"you're so nice." is all you say. rin looks at you, incredulous.

"you are," you insist, breaking away from him for a moment with your hand pushing yourself off of his chest. "you wanted to help that old woman. you heard yelling and stopped in case someone needed help. you're here at 10pm after i messed everything up."

rin blinks.

you've always been the kind of person to make him think. you made him reconsider his own future, his capacity for love, his interest in romance- you made him think about it all. but there was one thing that was a constant, that he didn't think even you could make him reconsider- the fact that he wasn't a good person.

it's then that it dawns upon itoshi rin- he doesn't see himself as worth loving. his life's purpose was success, and without it, was he even worth caring about? and on top of all that, he was cruel.

he cared about no one. he was blunt, and he was unfriendly, and when he was in school people walked away. the neighborhood kids all hid from him, and his teammates never bothered to even try and introduce him to new faces anymore.

itoshi rin was mean and cruel, a fact that he had decided for himself and then been enforced by the people around him. itoshi rin was not worth anything without a gold medal to demonstrate his value. itoshi rin was not worth caring about, because he'd just hurt you. itoshi rin didn't think himself even capable of wanting anything but to win.

and itoshi rin was proven wrong the day he met you.

because he'd fallen for you, with your shoddy footwear and worn-out zip-up that could hardly be considered white anymore. he'd fallen for you and the way you always had something to say, and he'd fallen for you, who could see the art in anything- even hideous artwork made by unskilled 7-year-olds, even teenage boys who couldn't find it in themselves to admit that they loved you.

you must've changed him, he thinks, or at least brought out a part of him that he'd long since forgotten had existed. because now, on this train at 10 pm with you still staring at him with intent, tired eyes- he thinks he sees it, too, in a way that he thinks you might've been trying to get him to see from perhaps the very beginning.

he sees himself, itoshi rin, as artwork. and he sees you- the artist.

it's beautiful, how the world explodes into colour at that moment. the night sky outside the train window has never been quite so beautiful, and he thinks he can see all the stars in the world even though he's not even looking at them. his eyes are trained on yours, and there's nothing left to do, say, or realize, so he just pulls you back into himself and keeps talking.

"and then two days ago, i think, i was at practice. and my teammate opens his locker, and a squirrel falls out. nanase- that's his name- was terrified."

it's almost comical, how the roles have reversed. usually, you were the storyteller, and he was the patient listener. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone in such a one-sided fashion for so long, but he doesn't really care anymore.

"apparently it was bachira. no one was really surprised."

he looks down at you, and you're finally asleep. your breathing is even, and he can only partially see your face. your cheeks are patchy from previous tears, but the way your features are relaxed amends for the hurt. his hand holds your head close, still, fingers absently massaging your scalp.

the silence carries on for a few beats. he watches your inhales and exhales when you do. when he finally talks, he's even quieter.

"i missed talking to you," he finally admits. it's almost as if he's admitting this to himself rather than you, with the way he leaves the words to hang in the air.

"so much," he adds, "it was fucking gross."

he continues to speak. perhaps this was his confession- he'd tell you his truths, the fact that he liked you, and the fact that he'd never be able to say it to your face. he doesn't see the harm, not on the empty night train with just him to hear.

"when we were all.. distant. i hated that. i had so much to say to you. i guess i always have. because," he lets an aggravated sigh, "i just didn't know.

"you're rubbing off on me, i guess. you and your stupid.. i dunno. just you. you make me so weird inside."

he pauses like he's waiting for you to say something, even though he knows you can't even register his words. he frowns and rewinds:

"that day. a week and a day ago. i left.

"you were so close to my face, so close to me- i dunno. i guess- i guess i just panicked. because i shouldn't like you. you're so.. you. and i'm nowhere near that. so i left.

"i wanted to kiss you. i want to all the time, it's fucking awful. when you told me about your date today? i hated every second of that. i just wanted to tell you but i couldn't. i don't know why, though.

"i still can't tell you. don't know if i will. but it's out there, now. i like you," rin laments, the last words foreign and unwelcome on his tongue.

"i like you. i like you a lot."

rin thinks his words should be followed by silence. he thinks that they'll hang and vanish in the air like his breathe, and he thinks it'll be gone forever, just like that. he thinks the next morning, he'll find a new morning routine and delete your contact.

but your breath hitches, and your body stiffens ever so slightly against rin's as his confession exits his lips. rin freezes, his hand falling dormant in the air behind your head.

you rise from his chest, and an empty cavity of dread is left in your place. the quiet is so poignant that you could hear a hairpin drop. he stares at you. you stare at him.

"rin," you start slowly, voice rough around the edges with sleep.

(the train rumbles distantly in the background. faintly, rin wonders when his stop would be.)

"you like me?"

he is silent. you blink once. then twice. and then you move. from your place next to him, you take his hand in both of yours and shift it to your lap.

"you like me."

it's not so much of a question now as it is an answer. your skin is cold against his, and it reminds him of the afternoon spent in your classroom where he learned of his limits for the first time.

"and you said you want to kiss me all the time," you continue, and rin thinks he'd be utterly humiliated if he wasn't so frozen.

"so why don't you?"

your question is one that lingers, hanging in the air like a heavy mist or smoke, and his lungs feel like they're being weighed down by the steeled sky.

you're right for asking, because why didn't he? why had he run, that day in your classroom? why had he let you grow so distant from him in the week that followed?

rin has always been one for pushing his limits. even when his body was broken over his sport, but he kept going because that was what was right to do. it was his purpose, and he didn't matter much outside of that.

but things were different now that he'd met you. rin decides that he just might be worth something more than a victory, because you look at him with a reverence, an affection, that tells him that he's maybe more than that.

you hold his hand in yours like it's glass, and your expression is soft with a curious lilt, and his hand is on your side and traveling to your back, and his other one is in your hair, and his lips are pressed on yours like he needs you, because fuck it, rin decides, he's never cared much for limitations anyway.

you kiss him back before long. it's messy and crude, and all teeth and bumping noses, and a long time in the making. you pull away before he does and he chases your lips like a starved man. but you duck your face into the crook of his neck, body as close as you could manage on the uncomfortable train seat. he feels you laugh into his neck, and he can't help the smile that spreads on his face.

"fucking finally," he says quietly, more to himself than you.

"finally," you agree, as the train slows to a stop. you glance up to check the destination- oh. it's your stop- your apartment block was only a short walk from here.

"this is where i am," you say, trying to find it in yourself to stand up. rin beats you to it, emerging from his seat and pulling you with him.

"i'm walking you home." he's no longer holding your hand, but his pinky finger is interlaced with yours, and he gives a surprisingly firm tug as he ushers you to the exit. "let's go."

you skitter along right behind him as the cold air rushes against his face, planting rosy, frosty kisses against his skin. you swing your joined arms with a wicked grin like you know it'll annoy him but he's not about to tell you to stop.

and if rin thought you were the prettiest in your classroom, or prettiest on the train, he was sorely mistaken because you're nothing short of gorgeous now, in the night air holding his hand, with a big, dopey grin on your face and his name on your lips.

he thinks he'd like to kiss you again, so he stops in his tracks on the sidewalk. you lurch to a halt, and call his name questioningly. he kisses you again because he can now, and you kiss him back, and he can do this again, and again, and again, because what's stopping him now?

the weeks following the emergence of your newly formed relationship are nothing short of blissful.

neither of you discussed your relationship status- it was just implied that he was your boyfriend now, because rin is almost sure he'd implode if he had to consider his feelings any longer.

your routines had both amended themselves around each other. every day, you'd meet on the morning train. he'd come to your classroom and sit through your lessons with you, and the both of you would go to either your apartment, his house, or whatever other destination was on one of your to-do lists. he'd go off for practice in the afternoons, but he never missed you too much.

he knew your texts would be waiting to be answered, without fail, and he knew you'd always be waiting for his call. and it felt nice to have someone- someone who cared for him, someone to call his own, someone who waited for him, someone he'd won.

rin thinks that he'd follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, and especially if you didn't. he sees it as mature and responsible- someone has to keep you in check. you just call him clingy.

this is how he finds himself at a farmer's market. it's bustling, and nostalgic, and crowded, and probably not his scene. but you're there, so he'll make it work.

"oh, there's so many things. uh, let's see," you fumble with your phone, pulling up your list from your phone, "naomi can't have peanuts. asami is allergic to.. strawberries? how sad. and hiroshi will probably start crying if he sees cucumber. god, kids get weirder and weirder by the day."

you've been roped into helping host the graduation party for this year's oldest elementary students, most of which you knew by name. you'd been stuck with the food prep which rin didn't really understand assigning to you, since it's presumably the hardest task and you're not even a real employee.

"what's left, then?"

"uh.. i think we can make blueberry pie or something. and if they don't like it, it's not my fault because i tried."

"i'm not helping."

"no, no. you are. you don't have a choice in this."

he scoffs, and is about to reply, when-

"ms. teacher! hi, hi! hi!"

a little tiny pair of legs attached to a blur of brown hair as a small boy hurtles into your legs, capturing you into a hug the best he can. you let out a huff as the wind is knocked out of you.

looking down, rin recognizes the same kid- the same one who had made the watercolour painting of him and was surprised that they spoke german in 'germ-in-ey'.

"haru? hi yourself! what're you doing here?"

you almost instantly kneel down to meet his eyes and haru immediately giggles and taps the side of your head. "bonk, bonk!"

you laugh. "that isn't an answer, buddy."

the boy rocks back and forth on the heels of his feet with his hands fidgeting with each other in front of him, and rin is both enamoured by your endless warmth and feeling very out of place, standing awkwardly behind you like a scared child.

"my mama runs a fruit shore. yum, fruit! 'nd, i get to ex-spore! 'cause they're all busy with the fruit shore!"

"really? how cool!"

"yeah, yeah! 'nd, why are you here ms. teacher?"

you pretend to be in deep contemplation, tapping your finger on your chin. "well, if i tell you, you've got to keep it a secret, 'kay?"

"pinky swear! swear it!"

"it's for a surprise party."

haru looks like you just told him nuclear secrets. "oh my gosh!"

he squirms where he stands, running around in circles. "a sur-pies party! a sur-pies party!"

and then he stills, looking at you with the utmost serious expression that cracks a grin onto even rin's face. "i swear i won't tell anyone about your sur-pies party."

"thank you very much, haru. i appreciate it," you reply, with equal seriousness.

and then, haru's eyes wander over to rin.

"mr. germ-in-ey!"

rin cringes. he wasn't mentally prepared for this, not today. "hi."

haru seems to have forgotten that people from germany tend to speak german, because he converses with rin like there's no implicit barrier there. "hey, hi! i didn't know you went outside the school!"

rin's brows furrow and you stand, laughing. "what?"

"you're always in ms. teacher's classroom. in the back, all sad."

he frowns. "i'm not sad."

haru surveys him, and he feels a little ridiculous getting once-overed by a 7-year-old. "no," haru agrees, "not anymore!"

at this, you chime in. "oh? what changed?"

rin glares at you over his shoulder and you return with a bemused expression. haru mimics your previous posture, with his hands on his chin like he's stroking a beard.

"you guys are in love!"

you freeze, shooting up straight with wide eyes. rin stares at the kid.

"come again, haru?" you manage to choke out, perhaps hoping that you heard him wrong.

"you guys are in L-O-E-V-E!" haru sings the words out, spelling it wrong but still reinforcing his previous statement.

rin is flabbergasted, and you choke on your saliva. bystanders are beginning to look at the scene unfolding, and you attempt to straighten yourself out while rin takes a step away.

"uh, haru," you say, letting out a breath and an awkward laugh, "why don't you go find your mom? tell her i say hi."

haru hums before nodding like he'd entirely forgotten the previous conversation. he scuttles away with the speed of a scared cat. rin directs his gaze to you and shoots you a look.

"your students are so fucking strange."

you sigh, "yeah. yeah, they are."

he pauses. and lets out the heaviest, most resigned sigh he thinks he's ever managed before. "but they're not wrong."

you look at him blankly, before you process his words. and then you're positively beaming as rin makes a face.

"ugh, gross. forget i said that. that was vile."

"awh, rin!" you say, disregarding his statement, "you're so cute! so, so cute!"

you close the distance between him and you, and he ducks his face away but makes no real effort to move. "i hate you so much."

"i don't think so," you hum, getting infinitely closer to his face. he's sure you can feel the heat radiating off him at your proximity, as you continue: "i think that you are obsessed with me."

your lips are ghosting the corner of his mouth and he doesn't realize he was holding his breath until you pull away, eyes suddenly wide with realization.

"oh my god," you say, all the teasing removed from your voice and instead replaced with a daunting sobriety, "haru is going to tell the entire class. the entire school."

rin blinks. "okay? and?"

"no, you don't get it!" you grab his arm, a genuine terror that is almost comical shining in them. "i'm going to be trampled."

your boyfriend shrugs. "i don't see how that's my issue."

"you idiot. you come with me every day."

"so?"

"you're never going to know peace again."

rin finally gets it, and he frowns deeper than he thinks he ever has. "i'm breaking up with you, then. no way am i dealing with that."

you roll your eyes and sigh, and rin laughs- it's quiet and short but real and genuine, and he sees the love brimming in your eyes as you follow his movements.

"god, i love you."

your words catch him off guard. but he takes your hand as a response. rin doesn't think he can say it back, not right now- but you know he does, and this time, so does he.

because rin loves you, and you love him, simple as that. there are no limits, there are no rules- just brushstrokes on a canvas, just an artist and a muse.

in that moment, in the middle of the bustling farmer's market, you and rin are all alone, and he thinks to himself: he would spend forever counting the passengers on a train if it meant he would meet you.

he'd spend years if he had to, waiting for his girl, the one with a white worn-out zip-up and shoes that were on their last few wears, and a denim bag smeared with paint and decorated with pins, and a smile to rival the sun.

he'd give it all to meet you again, and he'd give even more if you asked. in truth, there's nothing he wouldn't do to fall in love with you all over again- but he doesn't need to imagine, because you make it happen every day.

because truly, it may have started in just a few mornings, but it would always end with you.

(3 weeks later, mrs. sato appears on the morning train again.

you and rin are seated in conversation, bodies turned towards each other as he listens to your words. you're both interrupted when the train doors shut and a voice calls your name.

"ah, what have i missed! do my eyes deceive me, or is there a lovely new couple in my presence?"

you grin at her arrival. "oh my gosh, mrs. sato?"

the older woman hobbles over to sit down in front of you. "you have so much to tell me," she states, wrinkled smile gleaming with childlike joy.

rin frowns. why is it such a common trend to make him the 3rd wheel in his own relationship?

rin listens in as you narrate the course of your relationship, thankfully skipping out some more personal pieces, with a pink face and blood warming the tips of his ears.

and in turn, you learn that in mrs. sato's absence, she'd been partying all over the bahamas on a cruise, making a few crude and suggestive jokes about ship crew boys. "ah, but i can't say that anymore, can i? not with your boyfriend here. girl talk."

rin crosses his arms over his chest, looking and feeling a bit ridiculous with your bag on his laugh. mrs. sato cackles. he thinks she reminds him of a witch, just a little.

"ah, well, i hope you didn't miss me too much, dear. i'm off again- to jamaica this time!" mrs. sato exclaims and you smile supportively even though rin can tell you're more amused than anything.

"when do you leave?"

"tonight," she laughs, "i'm going to the airport right now."

when mrs. sato leaves and bids you and rin farewell with a hug and wink respectively. rin looks at you questioningly. "i can't believe you speak to her."

you grimace. "she's terrifying. i think if i wasn't friendly she'd hunt me down."

"probably. wouldn't be hard."

"i should send you to jamaica with her."

"i'd take some cruise boys over you any day."

"i'd pick them over you, too"

rin smiles. his hand taps a rhythm onto your knee. "so what're we doing today?"

"after school, i think it's finally time i buy new shoes. it's been long enough."

he frowns. "i like your shoes."

"they're like, a million years old. there's a hole in the sole."

"oh."

"you can pick them, since you clearly seem to think your fashion sense is better than mine."

"it is, actually."

"you're horrible, y'know that?"

"yep."

the train stops, and you stand before he does. you extend your hand for him to take.

he takes it without hesitation.)

##: if you read this long, hey! writing this actually made me insane i'm not gonna lie! but it's finally out, and genuinely would mean the world if u left a like, reblog, or comment :,) feedback keeps me motivated!

#blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock #bllk #bllk rin #rin itoshi #rin x reader #itoshi x reader #reader insert

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owliellder · 9 months

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?”

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.”

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.”

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass.

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table.

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen.

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

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