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#accompanies tooth
friendlygirlswag · 9 days
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hot take. hunters tooth gap isnt a cute little tooth gap. the space is too big to be a cute little tooth gap. belos (or kiki tbh) actually knocked his fucking tooth out
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meiieiri · 1 month
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𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 [toji fushiguro]
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synopsis: in which toji hears the words “happy birthday” for the first time.
pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | song inspo: cliché | visuals: keychain | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist
warnings: brief mentions of physical and emotional abuse (toji’s painful past, really, i just wanna give him a big hug). inspired by the works of @/ddub1618 on twt!
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He could get in trouble for this, now, normally, he doesn’t sneak out of training but Toji’s curiosity got the better of him this time. Being one of the taller kids, he stays close to the ground so his hair doesn’t stick up from the bushes. He holds his wooden katana close, peeking when he hears delighted laughter coming from the engawa of the estate, a sound that’s a little rare here in the Zenin estate.
“Happy birthday!”
Toji’s breath hitches in his throat when he hears the happy giggles of one of his younger cousins, and he stealthily sneaks over to a tree that’s just a few feet from one of the estate’s buildings, hiding behind the trunk, peeking from time to time to see what’s going on. He watches with a glittery look in his eyes when his aunt presents his third or fourth cousin, Toji doesn’t really know at this point, with a gift box, happily urging the little one to open it.
A thousand thoughts were running through his head as he inquisitively watched the toddler open their presents and have some of the sweet colorful mochi his parents must have requested from the estate kitchens for this special day. The sweet smell of osekihan lingered in the air, and Toji’s stomach growls at the decadent aroma of the slow-cooked red bean rice. He doesn’t get to have sweets often, so he is left wondering if his parents would allow such a thing for him on his own birthday.
“Toji, what are you doing here?”
Toji stiffens at the sound of his older brother’s voice. “Shh, I’m trying to watch.” He says, pressing an index finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. “Look there.”
Jinichi momentarily places his hands over his hips, indulging his younger brother. “It’s just a birthday. What’s so special about it?”
The younger Zenin huffs at the arid response. “I’ve never had one of those before.”
Toji looks down at the broken fingernails on his hands, worn out from the grueling training regimen today, he imagines what it would be like to hold a present and not sharp edged rocks for once. He can only imagine the excitement he’d feel as he slowly pulls the green gift wrapper off the box, being extra careful with it because it looked too pretty and expensive to haphazardly tear apart. As for the tooth-rotting mochi he’ll be receiving, he’ll do his best to only eat tiny pieces of it at a time, making sure to leave some of the sweet treat for later because who knows when he’ll ever get to eat such a luxury again?
“Say, why don’t I get a birthday? It’s always just you getting one every year.”
Jinichi rolls his eyes. “Everyone has a birthday, dimwit. But not everyone celebrates their birthday.” Toji scowls in displeasure at that, his bottom lip curling up in a pout. At his brother’s petulant silence, Jinichi taps out of the conversation, turning on his heel to go back to the training grounds. “I’m heading back, I’m not about to catch another beating because I went to go look for you.”
“Go do whatever you want. I’m staying.”
And with that, Toji turns his attention back to the joyous occasion, looking longingly as the little birthday celebrant receives a loving peck on the cheek from his mother. He doesn’t even notice the familiar ache in his heart that accompanied how his fingers touched his cheek longing for the day his own mother does that for him.
In a perfect world, all children are wanted; they’d have warm beds to snuggle in at night in place of a rundown storehouse’s cold hardwood floor, their cheeks would be showered with kisses and not harsh slaps, they’d be lulled to sleep by warm lullabies and not the sound of their parents arguing why their child turned out this way like they’re some factory defect, they’d be given toys and not weapons that they need to master.
In a perfect world, Toji would have spent his sixth birthday with a plate of nerikiri in front of him and not some random rocks he found in the garden and lined up in a neat row to make it resemble the white bean dessert. He’d be surrounded by the people he so painfully loves and not the sympathetic ants that crawled on the grass in a tucked away corner of the Zenin estate’s compound on the day he was born into this world.
In a perfect world, Toji wouldn’t have to sing himself a ‘happy birthday’ because no one else ever cared to do it for him.
“Happy birthday, Toji…”
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“Toji!”
He must have been zoning out. You told him to meet you outside Shinjuku station today for your date and he doesn’t really know how long he’s been sitting in the waiting area, but it must have been long enough for his mind to wander to the agonizing recollections of his childhood. Toji looks up to see you hurrying to tap your train card on the turnstile with a tired smile that’s pretty hard to miss.
Toji stands up to meet you halfway and you giggle, launching yourself in his arms. Toji loves it when you do that, it shows how you trust him completely that in any and every given second, he’ll always catch you. Burying his face in your hair, he inhales the floral smell of your shampoo, the haze in his mind dissipating ever so slightly.
He frowns when you’re the first to pull away and he opens his mouth to whine about it, but he instantly drops it when he sees you holding up a little gift-wrapped box in front of him. Toji blinks. “This for me?” He almost couldn’t believe it. “You actually remembered?”
You’ve been casually pretending this entire week that you didn’t know what was coming up because you’ve been trying to keep your little surprise low-key until today. Nodding, you kiss the scar on his lips.
“Of course I did! That’s why I was late, I was looking for some…uh…well, never mind! Just open it!” You tap your toe against the floor shyly as his fingers nimbly and painstakingly unwrap the present.
As if he had stepped into a time machine, Toji pictures himself back in the Zenin estate, his knees pulled to his chest as he celebrates his birthday alone, a solitary tear streaming down his face. Except something’s different like the time-space continuum hit a snag or something. The difference being a miniature version of you, smiling adoringly at him, as you plop down next to him on the dirt ground, not caring if your little dress got soiled. In his hands, in this version of events gone by, is a half-opened present wrapped in a beautiful blue gift paper.
Oh, how it would have been nice had that been the case all those years ago when your gentle hands would cup both his cheeks, your thumbs gently rubbing his bruised cheeks. How you would have brightened his days with your warm sunshine.
After what seems like an eternity of gazing into your orbs, seeing his modified past play like a montage from the light reflecting off your eyes, Toji opens the gift and he picks up a crocheted keychain, his index finger flicking the metal hook.
“A frog.”
You chortle as he points out the obvious. “It was the easiest thing to crochet,” you said defensively. “I was late today because I was looking for these,” you point to the black beads serving as the little frog’s cute eyes.
“There’s a…” Toji trails off, his voice wavering. You know what he’s talking about, so you take his bigger hand in your delicate ones. The two of you gazing at your little masterpiece.
“Sorry, I kinda ripped it when I pulled the yarn a little too hard. Guess I was getting sleepy.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Then, I kinda ran out of green yarn to fix it, so, I had to improvise. I’m sorry if it seems a little offensive—“
Toji cuts you off with an abrupt kiss, not caring if the two of you were attracting a crowd of commuters as the two of you kiss in the middle of a crowded train station. “It’s not half-bad, squirt. Don’t worry.” He ruffles your hair, eagerly suppressing his smile as he looks at the frog keychain that’s meant to resemble him with the tiny pink scar you knit on the corner of the frog’s smiley lips.
Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you nudge him gently as he continues to stare at the keychain. “Don’t lose it now.”
“You kidding? I’m putting this in a damn safe.”
The two of you share a laugh at that, your fingers interlacing with one another as your lips brush against each other once more.
“Happy birthday, Toji.”
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brewed-pangolin · 2 months
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Soap MacTavish has a sweet tooth.
He once mistakenly ate an entire plate of freshly made brownies in one sitting while you were out purchasing a quick grocery list, thinking it was your usual recipe.
As you entered your home, your eyes immediately went to the empty metal tray that sat on your counter as you took in the sight of the crested Scotsman splayed out over your couch.
Quietly, with only the slightest aggravated smirk, you stepped towards him as his glazed eyes mindlessly followed the images of SpongeBob flashing on the expansive TV screen.
"John," you said with a hushed tone. Patrick's voice echoing behind your shoulder as Soap's eyes lazily moved to meet your questioning stare.
"How ya feelin', babe?"
He answered simply with a smile. Unable to speak as the effects of copious amounts of THC coursed through his veins and clouded his mind as you gazed upon him, lovingly rolling your eyes at his mind-numbing state.
"Yeah. That ain't nothing yet."
You sat by his side for the next 10 hours as he rode out the high he had so inadvertently thrown upon himself. Only moving when he muttered 'got'a pee, lass', which was a feat upon itself as you shouldered the inebriated Scotsman ever so carefully down the hall to the bathroom (yes, you helped him because you love him and he's too embarrassed and high to ask)
You vowed never to leave a tray of special brownies unattended if you knew he were to be home alone. The man could not be trusted, especially since he had no discipline around your expert baking.
And you'd hide the newly made gummy bears in an inconspicuous container. Margarine, perhaps. Anything to keep his greedy hands from embarking on yet another cannabis fueled adventure.
Although you'd be lying if you didn't love the dopey smile he gave you as you rode him on the couch. Limp body with a throbbing dick. Accompanied by a dilated stare that melted your heart as you pulled the most delicious moan of your name from between his permanently kissable lips.
Drabbles Masterlist
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losersiren · 5 days
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𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭
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"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o
The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.
You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 
“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.
The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.
What a bastard
“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.
”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”
His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.
He should’ve fought harder for you.
People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.
 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 
“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.
The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.
The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.
“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.
You’re so close
“I forgive you…I forgive you…”
“I forgive you, Ambrose…”
Oh…
His name on your tongue….
His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.
His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.
“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”
.." Or shall I beg more?"
End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)
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flseur · 5 months
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꒰ 𐙚 holiday sex — jjk men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : winter dates that jjk men would take you on, and what happens after them !
⟡ characters : satoru gojo, kento nanami, suguru geto
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, size kink, standing doggy, overstimulation, soft to rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, praising, squirting
౨ৎ note : this started off as a genshin fic but i turned into a jjk one bc i haven’t posted anything for it in a bit
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୨୧ SATORU GOJO
❥₊ ⊹ with his apartment being right near a canal, during the winter time it was bound to be frozen over. and one of satoru’s favourite things to do, ever since he was a child, was ice skating.
so when the months got colder, and the ice was thick enough to skate on, he was excited to have you celebrate that tradition with him. he made you sit on a bench while he tied your skates and made sure that your jacket was tightly done up before taking you by the hand, leading you on the ice.
his nose and cheeks were flushed red due to the cold weather the two of you were once outside in, but also because of the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his cock.
he had you bent over the granite top of his kitchen counter, the idea of the hot chocolates you once craved long forgotten with how satoru was bullying your velveteen walls.
your slick messily coated his length, dripping down his balls as he pulled soft mewls from your throat. the thrusts of his cock were delicious paired with the feeling of his large hands grabbing at the soft skin of your hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts halfway.
"a-ah! satoru! s'big..." your words slur, your mind was too focused on the searing pleasure your boyfriend was giving you instead of forming a full sentence.
satoru curses at the sounds of your moans, your sobs only spurring him on more. he watches the fat of your ass move each time his thick cock grinds into your pussy. his pace was unrelenting and his thrusts were calculated, each one hitting that gooey spot inside of you.
you were so perfect. pretty face with crystalline tears running down the apples of your cheeks, back sinfully arched, clothes discarded, and your cunt that satoru swore was made just for him was milking him dry.
"so perfect, baby..." he groans, "you're so fucking perfect." then one of the hands that was on your hip slithered to where the two of you were connected. his lithe fingers feathered above your clit, teasing you lightly.
"don't tease..." you sigh. your breath hitches then fades into a moan when you feel his digits begin to rub circles on the bundle of nerves.
it was all too much. satoru was too much. the feeling of his cock dragging through your walls, him playing with your clit, and his moans. he invaded your every sense and you swore you could feel him everywhere all at once.
"ohmygod... g'nna cum, fuck!" you cry out, body spasming and pussy convulsing as white, hot pleasure shoots across your abdomen. your legs were about to give out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure but satoru's strong grip on your hips is tight and his cock is still pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt.
"give me one more, baby... one more..."
୨୧ KENTO NANAMI
❥₊ ⊹ what started off as kento travelling overseas to new york for a business trip, turned more into a vacation with you accompanying him on it.
he at first was very adamant about focusing on doing the paperwork for his up and coming meeting for the company’s clientele. but when it comes to you, his workaholic demeanour faltered fairly quickly.
he let you drag him down the snowy-covered concrete paths of new york to look at the different stores, hand in hand. you stopped at different shops and bought a few gifts for friends for the holiday season, then you pulled him over to some little cafe in an old brownstone building to grab warm apple ciders, hoping it would satiate your sweet tooth.
and as the sun sets, casting the beautiful city in an orange haze, the two of you decide to make your way back to the hotel you were staying at. as the two of you unlock the door to your room, you can't help but give your husband a sweet smile. and kento can't help but kiss it off of your face.
those sweet kisses turned into something more. winter coats discarded and your clothes soon following after them, as you've now found yourself underneath kento, moaning and swallowing back loud sobs as his cock stretched out your little hole.
kento peppered open-mouth kisses on your neck as he shallowly thrusts inside your pussy. "fuck… sweetheart... stop squeezing so tight..." he groans.
"you feel s'good, kento..." you moan, fingers lacing themselves through his blonde hair, tugging at the roots.
his thrusts sped up, fucking into you at a rougher pace and you cry out.
he pulls away from your neck to look at you, god you were so beautiful. kento brings one of his large hands down to your abdomen and presses down on it, watching your eyes roll back into your head. the strained moans he was pulling from your throat were heaven-sent.
your pussy pulsed around his cock, dragging him further in. kento's head lolled back as he felt you squeeze him tight again. the hand that was once on your abdomen creeps down and rubs fast circles on your puffy clit.
he couldn't hold back his moans as he continued to fuck you senseless. you felt so good but hell, he looked so fucking hot right now, you could cum just at the sight of him.
his usual stoic facial expression was completely gone and replaced with one overwhelmed with pleasure. his skin was flushed pink all over, hair messily pushed out of his face and his abs, covered in a sheen of sweat, contracted with every rut into your messy pussy.
your orgasm washed over you with little to no warning, you grabbed at kento's broad shoulders as you shook from the intensity of it, nails digging into the skin and he groans.
"o-oh fuck! kento!" you cried out. "cum inside! please cum inside!" you were begging him to fill you up, to make you mess. and that was all he needed to hear to have him spiral into his own orgasm. kento's thrusts became irregular as his hips stuttered, eventually stilling inside of you.
"shit..." he cursed as he came, his cock twitching inside of your dripping cunt. "you're so messy..." he chuckled, pulling out watching his cum dripping out of your hole.
"says you..." you mumble, hiding a smile, "you look like shit for a serious businessman."
"haha." kento gives a sarcastic laugh then lays down on your chest, pressing kisses to your jawline.
୨୧ SUGURU GETO
❥₊ ⊹ as winter comes each year, the weather gets colder which meant that it was finally the perfect time to stay inside. so when you looked outside of your apartment and seen it snowing, you decided that it was the perfect time for you and your boyfriend, suguru, to do some holiday festivities.
"oh wow!" you gasp, looking at his gingerbread house. “a-are the windows supposed to look like they’ve been broken into?”
suguru snorts at your question, “they’re supposed to be curtains. and this,” he points at two blobs of icing that you were assuming to be snow piles, “is us. see?”
“really?” you ask, trying your hardest not to laugh. his effort at trying to make this cute made your heart swell, but he wasn’t exactly the best at executing it.
“no, i’m just fucking with you,” he laughs. “i forgot to put the metal thing on the icing bag so it just spilled out there.”
“you mean the piping tip?”
“yeah, that thing.” he smiles.
you giggle at him then yawn lightly. “do you want to go watch that christmas movie now?” you ask.
suguru nods his head, you could tell that he was getting a bit bored with decorating the gingerbread houses. so, the two of you quickly cleaned up then head to the couch.
though soon enough, you weren't paying much attention to the movie. suguru had peeled your clothes off of you, leaving searing kisses in his wake, completely distracting you from the film. as he reached lower and lower, you felt your breath hitch when he was face to face with your cunt.
"need me this badly, baby?" he teases, bringing up a teasing finger to your folds, collecting your arousal on the tip of it.
and who were you to ignore him? you did need him, especially when he was looking up at you behind those long black eyelashes, and his pink lips so close to where you wanted him most.
"y-yes..." you stutter, "please.."
suguru smirks then leans in and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit. his lips wrap around your bundle of nerves as one of his digits pushes into your pussy, thrusting in and out.
you choke back a sob when he adds a second, then a third finger into your aching cunt, hips grinding down onto his face. he hums against your clit, pulling back to watch you.
your face was contorted in pleasure, one hand grabbing at the cushion of the couch while the other grabbed at your own breast, pinching and tweaking your pert nipple. you were making it harder and harder for suguru to ignore the ache of his cock, begging to be freed from the confines of his boxers.
he brings his mouth back to your pussy, flattening his tongue and then swirling your clit around with it as his fingers continue to pump inside you at an unapologetic pace.
"just like that! mph!" you cry out, arching your back. you were so dizzy, the feeling of suguru's tongue in between your folds was driving you crazy.
the taste of your arousal was intoxicating to him, he wanted you to cum so badly. but he wanted you to cum, everywhere.
as your moans become higher pitched, suguru knew you were going to come soon. he angled his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside of you, your eyes rolled backwards as you orgasmed with a strangled cry.
"i-i'm cumming! oh! fuck!" you hiccup, hips spasming against suguru's face as you squirt. your arousal coats his hand, upper arm, lower half of his face and suguru drank it all in.
"that's it, princess... make a mess on my face." he mumbles, fingers still pistoning inside your pussy. you felt yourself being hurrled into your second orgasm and it was coming quickly.
"suguru! can't! is t'much! oh my fucking god!" you sob, gasping as you cum for a second time. white flashes blurred your vision as your head spun, hips sputtering and your pussy clenched around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm.
"good girl." suguru praises you, finally removing his soaked digits from your sopping pussy. he presses a kiss to your clit before coming up to kiss your temple. "you did so good for me, baby.”
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flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.
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yvnaology · 5 months
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LANGAGE D’AMOUR: HOW THEY LOVE!
LANGAGE D’AMOUR: love languages, how they show their innermost emotions that make your heart melt and your cheeks burn. it’s how they show their appreciation for you, in their own special way.
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CHARACTERS. fontaine cast (lyney, lynette, freminet, wriothesley, clorinde, neuvillette, navia, charlotte & furina.)
CONTENT WARNINGS. tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst in navia’s + slight spoilers if you haven’t done the archon quests, established relationships, not proofread.
EXTRAS. last time i’ve ever even attempted writing was in july, it’s DECEMBER. please bear with me & my rusty weaving of (mostly) fluffy tales! 🫶🏼✨
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I. ❝ MAY YOU BE REWARDED WITH TANGIBLE ITEMS, MY DEAREST ! ❞
GIFT GIVING: people with a gift-giving love language prefer to be shown love through the act of giving and receiving gifts. (furina, freminet.)
FURINA brightens up at the slightest glimmer of joy in your eyes when she expresses how the item inside the box in her hands resembles you. Regardless of value, Furina expresses her utmost adoration by giving you a myriad of tangible presents. Her presence at your doorstep painted a spot of joy on your cheek, much more so when she presented you with a beautifully wrapped offering — her look of anticipation for your reaction inciting a giggle to escape your lips. Reward her with words of appreciation or even a kiss, would you? The prominence of a reddened hue on her cheeks and how she would act as if such an action didn’t have much of an effect, betrayed by the pounding feeling in her chest . . . is well worth it.
FREMINET whose diving expeditions never came out empty-handed. Whenever the urge rises to the surface, he finds himself delicately weaving matching bracelets or necklaces using romaritime flowers and beryl conches for the two of you. He wears the most flustered expression you’ve ever seen when he presents them to you, a token of his appreciation. When you wear his handmade jewelry with a twinkle in your eyes, he feels his heart warm indefinitely. Neither of you can explain the twitch of the corners of your lips, when a sudden collaborative effort ends with his mechanical penguin friend, Pers, having an addition to its design, a lumitoile necklace.
II. ❝ MY APPRECIATION COMES IN DOING, ASSISTING, AND SERVICE ! ❞
ACTS OF SERVICE: people with an acts of service language love language show love by doing something for their partner that they know they would like. (wriothesley, lyney, clorinde.)
CLORINDE, who does not express her inner worries whenever you walk across the streets of the nation of Hydro — and nonchalantly offers to accompany you to ensure your safety. You notice how the corners of her lips twitch into a small smile when you accept, her expression mirrored on your face. She’ll listen attentively to your woes, joys, or rambles while keeping a hand on the hilt of her sword in case of an emergency. If danger does arise, you will be sure that the Champion Duelist will resolve the issue while keeping your person a safe distance from the root cause. Any doubts will immediately diminish, and her question of ‘are you alright?’ gives you butterflies, but I guess that makes two.
LYNEY, who presents you with a magic trick at the sight of your tears, tips his hat and winks as he performs the way he would for the bawling children. A sense of wonder would overcome your senses and distract you from the cause of your woes, as he gently takes a rose from behind your ear — a flick of his finger and suddenly your hair becomes a holding place for an abundance of rose petals. The moment a smile is etching on your features, Lyney knows he has done something right. Your flushed cheeks give him the motivation to continue until you’re left with a racing heart from something that wasn’t a monster in the form of anxiety. He’ll spoil you with his tricks, wonderous and extravagant at heart, and finally press his lips against your dampened cheek at the end of his performance.
WRIOTHESLEY who constantly pats the cushion of the chair for you before you sit, ensuring its comfort. He prepares a cup of your preferred morning drink every day, much to your delight. His actions have their way of making you smile, something he will forever be grateful for. Wriothesley, who puts a hand on the small of your back or around your waist as you two walk around the Fortress of Meropide — such a question as ‘why?’ crosses your mind once or twice, but the moment you ask . . . his response is vague. It’s his intention to leave you in the loop of questions while your blood rushes to your cheeks. You feel him tightening his hold on you only slightly, noticing the small grin appearing as you point it out — earning a small snort from him.
III. ❝ MY TIME IS YOURS TO CHERISH, TO CREATE MEMORIES FROM, LOVE. ❞
QUALITY TIME: people who have quality time as their love language, time itself holds a great significance to them and their relationship, as the clock ticks — there is not a moment they’d like to waste with you. (neuvillette, charlotte, lynette and navia.)
NAVIA, who cherishes the times she’s made macarons with you, inviting you to gatherings that the Spina Di Rosula held, even the times when you’ve had to watch her break down in tears of reminiscence of her losses. She appreciates you, for accompanying her to her father’s grave, and for agreeing to have a picnic near the area where memories of sorrow lay bare. Navia keeps you close, unable to fathom the idea of another person being taken from her. As proud of a lover as she was, she feels herself fearing and doubting more often than not. All of your smiles, laughter, joys, and tears are things she will forever find herself admiring. You only live once, and she plans to spend every waking moment by your side.
CHARLOTTE, who captures what she considers to be the best moments of your relationship on camera. Time is a precious thing, unable to be wasted and regretted — as she takes you by the hand, she wonders if the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest will remain within the next five or ten years. She’ll fondly look over the pictures she’d taken, a few of them capturing your.. rather expressive emotions. A picture of your pout, frown, and smile — yet she can’t possibly choose a favorite out of all of them. Whenever her camera flashes in your eye, the expression she wears is almost.. soft. The moments that she’s the most quiet, even she feels the need to become a romantic, intertwining your fingers in hers.
NEUVILLETTE, who finds himself learning about human emotions as time goes on — observation, mental note-taking, until he finds one he couldn’t decipher or describe in words: love. The feeling of euphoria only existed in your presence, such intensity took him a while to come to terms with — all because of your smile. His role in Fontaine is complex, and he finds himself wishing that time would stop for both of you. Every free minute he has, he will always choose to spend with you, oh lovely you. The melusines aren’t the only ones who take note of his longing gaze, causing you to visit the Palais Mermonia frequently. His smile reflects yours, as his wish for another minute by your side had been granted.
LYNETTE, who often invites you over for tea parties, whether it be with the company of her siblings — or simply a moment for the two of you to enjoy. She’ll prepare you the best brew she has, along with a few desserts she knows are to your liking. She makes sure the atmosphere is comfortable, waiting intently for you to start the conversation. Regardless of the topic of the words that escape your lips, she is there to attentively listen to every word without fail. Your secrets are safe with her, guarded by her undying love for you. She isn’t the best at comforting, nor is she the kind to sugarcoat her opinion, but her small tea parties are almost equivalent to relaxation sessions. They allow her to pamper you in her own ways, just as you deserve.
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© ywalara 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate any of my work without my consent.
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I've Been Waiting For You | Bonus
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Azriel x Reader bonus scenes based off of this one shot. These are some scenes/ideas that didn’t make it to the final cut.
warnings: just some suggestiveness with the last one (but not really, it's just the morning after you and Az spend the night together but the scene itself is just fluff.) all of these scenes are purely fluff 🤧
Thank you so much for all the love you showed this imagine! I'm so happy you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing ♡ I tried to keep all of this roughly in chronological order.
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Azriel groveling after snapping at you.
Azriel found himself in a situation that required more than just words to apologize to you, especially with the look of hurt he had seen in your eyes. Determined to make amends, he decided to enlist Elain's help, knowing that you had a sweet tooth and that snickerdoodles were among your favorite treats. Elain was happy to help, agreeing to bake them for you.
Azriel carefully left the freshly baked cookies in the kitchen, accompanied by a note expressing the sincerity of his remorse.
**
However, the next morning took an unexpected turn when Cassian stumbled upon the kitchen with Nyx in his arms. "Cas-see-an," Cassian kept repeating to Nyx, enunciating his name so slowly in an effort to get the infant to repeat it.
Nyx babbled in response as Cassian gently set him down on the counter. He kept a hand on the baby while his other reached for a mug, missing the way Nyx's curious gaze landed on the colorful note resting atop delicious cookies.
His tiny hands grasp at the note, squeezing it in his hand before it it falls from his grip. Nyx watches as the note falls to the floor, landing under the cabinets. He lets out a small whine.
"Are you hungry?" Cassian asks, turning back to his sweet nephew and follows Nyx's gaze.
"Oh!" Cassian exclaims with a gleeful grin when he spots the plate of cookies. "Don't tell your mother."
Cassian quickly uncovers the plate, thanking the Cauldron for gifting him with a wonderful sister in law that loves to bake. He offers a cookie to Nyx while he takes a couple for himself.
**
Sensing your presence nearby, Azriel dispatches his shadows to investigate the kitchen. They quickly report back to him with the unfortunate news that the cookies had been devoured. He's then rushing into the kitchen himself.
"Morning, Cassian," he hears you say and then with a much lighter and excited tone, "Good morning, Nyx! Whatcha got there?"
"Morning y/n," Cassian greets back, brushing crumbs off his shirt.
Azriel's eyes narrow, gaze flickering between the empty plate and the crumbs on both Cassian's shirts and Nyx's face.
"Oh! Good morning, Az."
At the mere sound of his name, he notices the subtle tension in your body. Before Azriel can utter a word, you swiftly conjure up an excuse and make a hasty exit from the kitchen. As Azriel turns his gaze to Cassian and Nyx, he finds himself unable to muster any anger.
A sigh escapes him. His first effort to make amends had not gone as planned.
**
Undeterred, Azriel decides to try a different approach for his next apology. This time, he chose to give you flowers, intending to leave it somewhere for you to find. However, in his haste or maybe his distraction, he accidentally placed the flowers in a spot where someone else stumbled upon it. Amren, of all people.
"What are these, boy?" She asks sharply, eyeing the colorful arrangement warily as her hands wrap around the vase.
"Flowers."
"I know they're flowers."
"They weren't for you."
"Oh, thank the gods," Amren says in what sounds like relief.
And just as Azriel is about to take them back, his shadows sense you approaching. The Cauldron must not favor him, he thinks. He hears the sudden pause in your step as your gaze lands on him and catches the way your fingers tighten against the book in your hand. He catches a glimpse of Seers in Prythian etched across the cover.
Azriel knows you want to turn around but given it'd be absolutely obvious that you're avoiding him if you did, you find yourself frozen. When he meets your gaze, you turn your head, focusing your direction on Amren instead.
"Nice flowers, Amren."
"Thank you," Amren smirks, silver eyes flashing between you and Azriel. "Aren't they lovely?"
"Lovely as you!" You reply with a smile and then leave.
Once again, Azriel finds himself sighing deeply at another failed attempt in apologizing to you.
"Do better, boy."
"I know."
**
Azriel's third attempt in making amends is cornering you so he can finally talk to you. He sits in the living room, perched on the couch that directly faces the door to Rhysand's office, with a book about the history of seers similar to the one he had seen in your hands the other day. You're currently inside with Elain as you both debrief Rhysand and Feyre on your progress with Elain's powers.
Elain is the first to step out, eyes widening in surprise. "Azriel," she greets with a smile. "What are you doing here?"
"Reading," he replies simply, gesturing toward the book in his hands.
"About seers...?"
"Just thought I could help..."
Elain's eyes narrow at him and Azriel finds himself sinking further into the couch. Though he's apologizing because he genuinely feels remorse and wants to make things right, he can't escape the fact that Elain had chastised him for not doing so already days ago.
"You haven't apologized yet, have you?"
"I'm trying."
Elain's gaze softens and she lets out a small chuckle. "She'll be out in a couple of minutes."
Azriel feels a wave of relief as you step out alone, prompting him to rise to his feet and call your name.
"Hey, Azriel," you greet politely, and his shadows seem to dance with delight at the acknowledgment of his presence. Finally, they whisper eagerly into his ears.
"Can we talk?"
"Oh, um...," Your gaze shifts over his shoulder, seemingly fixed on something that his shadows report as nonexistent. "I think someone else is calling me. Maybe another time? I have to go!"
As you attempt to maneuver around him, Azriel subtly moves with you, blocking your path. "No one called your name," he points out softly, suppressing a smile as your eyebrows furrow. He senses you scrambling for another excuse.
"The future!" you exclaim, your eyes brightening as you tap the corner of your eye. "The future is calling me. I must go."
As you move, Azriel doesn't have it in himself to block your path again. He doesn't even have it in himself to be upset. Not when he finds your excuse amusing and your presence itself endearing.
His shadows, however, aren't as forgiving. They whisper harshly into his ears, growing impatient with each failed attempt. "Next time," he promises them quietly.
(And almost two weeks after him snapping at you, he finally succeeds in asking for your forgiveness during his fourth attempt when he brings your dinner to you in the library.)
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Elain gets a vision, where she finds out you and Azriel are mates.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," you instruct her softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration and as her head grows quiet, the world around her seems to awaken. She can feel the power coursing through her veins as she says, “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”
“Good. Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”
“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow as she struggles to delve deeper into her power. She finds herself stuck amidst the wild sea of the unknown. Wave after wave crashes down on her, knocking her down before she could even get back up.
“Here, take my hands,” she hears you say and then she feels your hands reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”
Elain does as told, bringing herself back to that sea of unknown in her mind. This time, she's not alone and she's able to rise from the water. You're there with her, the two of you standing knee deep in the waters that are beginning to calm in your presence. The world stills around you two and Elain feels her body relax as she allows you to guide her to the center.
And suddenly, the dark sky around her begins to brighten with visions, dazzling her like the stars in your eyes do. She finds herself overwhelmed by the all the flashes and voices. She takes deep, steadying breaths like you always do and the visions begin to slow, developing before in a way she can discern.
Her eyes widen she realizes they're all of you.
In the first vision, you're sat at the breakfast table, making small conversation with Cassian and Nesta as you bite into your pancake. The next couple of visions are mundane, just you going about your daily routine.
Then, you're seated at one of the tables at the garden, basking in the sun while Elain gardens a couple of feet away.
"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"
"Many things," you answer her with a grin. "Called him his Fox boy..."
And Elain wants to linger in this vision longer, itching to know more. But as quickly as it flashed before her eyes, it's fading away and a new vision is brought forth.
Now, she stands within a resplendent ballroom nestled within the House of Wind. Fae lights adorn the ceiling, casting a celestial glow that lets her know its Starfall. Amidst the enchanting scene, you and Azriel gracefully twirl on the dance floor. Elain, intrigued, takes a step forward, captivated by the mesmerizing dance unfolding before her.
“You should stay.”
“Why?”
She watches as a wistful expression takes over your features and she has to stop herself from reaching out for you. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of Azriel's hold before the next song starts, missing the way Azriel frowns at the loss of your warmth.
“There’s no one here for me.”
There's a deep, haunting sadness to the laughter that follows your words. Elain also finds herself frowning. She didn't know you were feeling this way, or rather, going to feel this way.
Elain detects a subtle twitch in Azriel's hand from the periphery of her vision, as if he longs to reach out to you but is held back by fear. Redirecting her focus to Azriel, she observes the tender and affectionate gaze he bestows upon you, while you remain unaware, fixated on the ground. This sight tugs at Elain's heart.
It's surprising because she thought she would feel hurt by it. But she doesn't. Instead, empathy floods her, accompanied by a silent wish that you would lift your gaze and witness the profound way Azriel looks at you in this very moment.
Please, she wants to scream but even if she opens her mouth, she knows no sound will come out. Please look up!
“I’m right here.” 
Elain exhales with relief as you finally meet Azriel's gaze, but the moment has passed. Azriel's expression transforms into one more guarded, his eyes now concealing what was once openly displayed. A subtle frown settles on your lips, and Elain witnesses a fleeting trace of hurt that crosses Azriel's face. Whatever you sought in that exchange, it appears you did not find it.
The scene before her blurs, shifting into another. Elain is now standing at the foyer of the river house, watching as you make your way down the steps. Suddenly, the door slams open and Azriel's chest is rising and falling as if he's been running. His eyes are wide and frantic, relaxing only when he spots you.
"It's you. All this time. It's been you."
“You know?”
"You're my mate."
A warm smile graces Azriel's lips as his gaze meets yours, and the tender expression Elain previously observed during the Starfall vision reappears on his face. She feels her heart melt at the sight because this time, you don't miss the way he's looking at you.
And just as she's about to dive into another vision into your future, she finds your connection abruptly broken. The warmth of your hands leave hers and you disappear from the depths of her mind. The sky around her darkens and though the waves begin to lap at her again, they remain calm and soothing.
"Stop!"
"I'm not hurting her!"
Elain blinks her eyes open and widen at the sight before her. You wear a pained expression on your face and there's blood trickling down your nose. Guilt courses through her, making her skin pale. She didn't know she was hurting you. Oh gods, if she knew, she wouldn't have lingered in the visions of your future. She didn't even know she could do so and judging by the look on your face, you're completely unaware of her accidental intrusion. Maybe, it's best if she didn't tell you...
"Are you okay?"
Elain doesn't have time to dwell on it as Azriel is urging her to go grab a towel while he guides you forward with a worried expression. When she returns with the towel in hand, she finds her apology dying at her throat, reluctant to disrupt the tender moment between you and Azriel.
"Like what?" She hears Azriel asked in an amused manner.
"Don't make me answer that."
At that moment, your gaze locks onto hers, and Elain assumes an air of nonchalance as she finally approaches the two of you with the towel in hand. Azriel takes it from her, carefully wiping at the blood on your face, and as Elain silently watches, she can't believe how she didn't see it before.
You and Azriel are mates and she feels nothing but pure joy for you both. She only wishes she had known sooner.
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Elain confesses to you about Lucien and then asks you about Azriel.
The vibrant streets of Velaris hum with excitement as you and Elain approach one of the bustling markets. Amidst the lively atmosphere, you find yourself marveling at the enduring beauty of the city. You inhale, taking delight in the sweet blend of fresh flowers.
There's a certain lightness to Elain's steps, more so than usual today. Catching your gaze, she turns to you with a soft smile, intertwining her arm with yours and drawing you closer.
"Can I tell you a secret?"
Your eyes light up involuntarily, driven by your insatiable curiosity for gossip. "Of course," you reply and though this is a secret you promise to keep, it doesn't dim your desire to hear it.
"I wrote to Lucien. I think I'm ready to give him a chance."
You stop, halting her in the process as well. A frown creases your brow as you look at her. "Are you sure?"
"I used to think mating bonds were precious," you speak again, mind drifting to Azriel briefly, before redirecting your focus back to Elain. "But I've come to realize there's an even greater beauty in choice."
"I want to give him a chance," she reassures you. "It's my choice."
"Okay then," you reply and the two of you resume in your walk toward the markets. "As long as you're happy, I'm happy."
Elain's gaze lingers on you, a fleeting trace of guilt flickering in her eyes so briefly that you wonder if you imagined it. Curiosity takes hold as she ventures, "What about your own happiness? Is there anyone special you fancy here?"
"I like you," you smile, completely missing the point. "I like Feyre, I like Nyx, I like--"
"No," Elain giggles beside you. "Anyone you like, like?"
"Maybe a certain somebody...," she hints, her voice trailing off and when you stare blankly at her, she adds, "Like maybe Azriel?"
At the mere mention of his name, your body tenses. You're silently hoping Elain doesn't pick up on it, but given she still has her arm wrapped around yours, you're sure she felt it. Still, you feign nonchalance.
“What about Azriel?”
“Do you like him?”
“He’s beautiful, yeah.”
"That's not what I asked," Elain laughs, wearing a knowing grin as if she's already privy to your response.
Your heart skips a beat, prompting an abrupt halt once again. At this rate, you won't reach the stall that sells your favorite pastries in time.
"The other day," you start, and she instantly understands the reference to the day she accidentally glimpsed into your future. "Did you see anything?"
"No," she responds a bit too hastily. "Did you?"
"No," you say with a shake of your head and that dull ache from that day returns. "All I saw was a dark void."
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Elain asks what the Suriel had to say about Lucien.
Nestled on one of the lounge chairs in the garden, you close your eyes as you bask in the sun. Elain, rests a couple of feet away on the soft grass, as she tends to the gardens.
"Did the Suriel ever say anything about Lucien?"
"Many things," you reply, opening your eyes. Your lips curve into a grin as you remember all the late nights you spent talking about said Autumn male. As emissary to the Spring Court, who often got sent on a lot of missions, the Suriel had a lot to say about him.
"Called him his fox boy...What are you itching to know?
Turning your head toward Elain, you catch the way she blushes. "I don't know," she admits sheepishly. "I was just curious."
"Did you know he told Amarantha to go back to the shit-show she'd crawl out of?" Elain's lips begin to twitch upwards, but your next words prevent the smile from fully forming. "It cost him his eye, unfortunately. "
"Lucien is good male," you speak again, swiftly shifting the topic to something lighter. "He has friends everywhere, in every court. He's the type to do anything for those he holds dear. From what I've heard, he's a pretty generous lover and given he's from Autumn Court, gods are you in for a treat. One night, the Suriel told me that he took a female to--"
"That's okay!" Elain cuts you in sharply, making you laugh.
"Autumn males have fire in their blood and I heard they fuck like it too."
"Feyre!" Elain gasps with wide eyes, her face growing as pink as the roses she just planted.
You're turning to face Feyre with a delighted smirk. "So you know too!"
Elain stands up, brushing her hands on the dress, indifferent to the dirt staining the fabric.
"Where are you going? We were just about to get to the good part." You muse.
"I'm actually going to go see him," Elain admits and before you can any anything, she adds, "I think I'll just ask him what I want to know myself."
You respond with a shrug of your shoulders and wish her good luck. "Have fun!" Feyre calls after her.
After Elain disappears from view, Feyre gracefully settles into the lounge chair next to you. Her blue eyes carefully assess you for a moment. "What else do you know about him?"
You meet her gaze, detecting an unspoken knowledge. "What else do you know?"
You feel her presence asking for entrance in your mind and you let her in, smiling when all she mentally utters is one word. A name, actually. Helion.
His father, you reply back with an all-knowing gleam in your eye. Did you know the Lady of Autumn and him are mates?
Feyre's eyes widen, and she releases a gasp. There's more isn't, there? She speaks into your mind.
Of course there is, you reply back. With a graceful wave of her hand, a complete tea set materializes along with an array of snacks upon the iron table between you.
I sense we'll be here for awhile, she muses to you, blue eyes glimmering with anticipation.
You chuckle as you start to sweeten one of the steaming cups of tea to your liking. Your attention shifts to the untouched third set on the table, and a dull ache settles in your chest as you envision the Suriel, absent yet somehow still present at the table.
As you bring your tea cup to your lips, you proceed to indulge Feyre with every bit of knowledge and gossip you possess about Helion's affair with the Lady of Autumn through your mind.
You don't realize it then, but this day, marks the beginning of what you and Feyre would later name "the Suriel fan club." As time passes on, the club grows more and more, until it becomes a monthly meeting amongst the inner circle.
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The morning after you and Azriel spend the night together for the first time.
Your eyelids flutter, like delicate butterflies stirring from slumber, as the muffled whispers of morning dance in the air. You stir and turn to your side, bringing the warmth of your sheets with you. Your movement causes a chain of reaction and your entire body freezes when you feel an unfamiliar weight come to rest over your side.
It's instinct, the way your fingers grasp for the dagger you keep under your pillow. In a moment of panic, you find yourself straddling a body and pressing your dagger against what you initially thought was an intruder.
"y/n, what are you doing?"
Your eyes snap wide open and memories of the night before flood your mind. You find yourself looking down at Azriel. Your mate, Azriel. Despite the dagger pressed at his throat, he smiles lazily up at you.
"I'm so sorry!" You exclaim with a heated blush, throwing the dagger onto your nightstand, relieved that you didn't knick him on accident. Judging by the way he's looking at you, you don't think he'd mind anyway.
"I'm not used to sharing my bed," you admit sheepishly, sliding off of him and wishing your bed would just swallow you whole at this point.
Taking advantage of your shift in position, Azriel turns on his side and hovers over your body, hazel eyes gleaming down at you. "You sleep with a dagger under your pillow?"
"Yes and?" You retort, a touch too defensively, eliciting laughter from him that sends an infectious warmth coursing through you. A smile tugs at your own lips. "You were listening when I told you I lived between Prythian's forests and shady Inns for many years, right?"
"Of course, I was. I listen to everything you say," Azriel responds smoothly. "It's just..." His voice trails off, and though your gaze remains fixed on his face, you notice him reaching for something in your peripheral vision.
He flashes you a grin as he pulls out his beloved dagger from under the pillow his head was resting on earlier.
"I sleep with a dagger under my pillow too."
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a/n: hope you enjoyed these little scenes! I also wanted to clarify that Elain was starting to think about giving Lucien a chance, even before she found out reader and Az were mates, and it's her finding out about your bond that gives her the confirmation to move forward. She realizes that Azriel won't be alone as he has someone waiting for him (:
tagging: @stormhearty @shinyghosteclipse @justvibbinghere @mybestfriendmademe @aandweaa @loveareum @hellodarling1357
@sassybluebird, @crookedcrusadestranger, @xlosttdreamss, @peachcontour-blog, @shadowandlightt, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @darlingbravebelle, @scooobies, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @toobsessedsstuff, @kaysav608, @idkitsem, @coffeebeforewater, @rinalsworld, @elissanatok, @mischiefmanagers, @paranoidhwks, @meshellexplosionmurder, @skylling, @irismoon, @addieslibrary, @wildrosewhiskey, @aneekapaneeka, @mx13sworld, @vixemi, @strangersreadingcorner, @aristocrrat, @olive-main, @moonyscherry, @stressed-reader, @alysena2, @heartysworld, @aomi-recs, @vardda, @awritingtree, @sillysillygoose444, @spideytingley, @aria-chikage
I tried tagging everyone who had left a comment or reblog with comment/tags, just in case you were curious to read more about Az & seer reader. Idk why not all tags worked out :(
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Wave
teacher!mingi x teacher!reader
summer camp/school trip au
word count: 7.8k
genre: fluffy stuff, just tooth rotting fluff for once
synopsis: when you suggest the idea of a one week trip to give the seniors a little break before their exams, you find yourself paired with mingi as the teachers in charge of your group of students, to your surprise and satisfaction. you've had your eye on him for quite a while- but so has mingi. he proves that it isn't too late for a highschool sweetheart - him.
manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we formally salute all fluff writers bc this shit was tough)
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when you heard you were accepted as a part of the crew who would be accompanying students on a one week road trip 
not only were you beyond relieved because you needed a break so bad
but you were also way too curious about who else made it into the crew
it hadn’t been long since you started teaching at eden high school
but it was the quickest you found your place as an english teacher
it was surprising how well you got along with the staff here considering your not-so-excellent experience at your previous school
and the students here were just students, yes, just like everywhere but
you were pretty sure this was the most adored you had been
perhaps because you were in charge of the seniors who really needed someone like you- a person they could confide their problems and concerns in
a person who would offer solutions instead of telling them that it was just a fleeting worry
a person who would notice when they were beyond exhausted with the pressure of being, well, a senior
you remember how hard it was when it was your time and you wouldn’t want your students to go through the same thing
which was why you once suggested to mr. kim that perhaps the students would appreciate a trip
it was just a casual observation you had made and when mr. kim said ‘perhaps they really need it’, you weren’t sure if he was being serious
but turns out that he was, and the preparations began
not all the teachers could join but you had to be a part of it, mr. kim said, since you suggested it in the first place
you got so busy with assuring the students that they would have fun and they had nothing to worry about
talking to their parents in case they were being reluctant to send their kid, thinking it was a waste of time
convincing the students who were taking their studies way too seriously that they needed this- they really didn’t want to be burned out when exams would be near
that it slipped your mind- another suggestion for mr. kim to take mr. song along
mr. song mingi- the history teacher- the one who made history quite fun to learn
you had specifically planned with the staff- including him- to visit a few historical sights on the road-trip
however, he wasn’t the only history teacher here so you weren’t sure if he would be tagging along
and you never got the chance to ask him
(or even if you did, you were too shy)
but the day finally came
way too early in the morning when even the sun was asleep, you were standing by the bus counting the heads
almost all of your students made it- it was a bummer that some couldn’t but you promised to take them out for dinner after you were back
it was the least you could do for them
the girls were all over you, finding your casual style pretty intriguing
they had only ever seen you in professional clothing, tied hair and reading glasses on the bridge of your nose
so with your hair down, shades hanging by the neckline of your light blue sundress
the girls were pleased, yes, but the boys couldn’t help but share the sentiment too
“miss y/n, you should wear dresses more often!”
“light blue is your colour!”
“your hair looks so good-”
“come on now,” a familiar voice boomed and if you thought the flood of compliments from your students was making you smile
the smile changed into a grin, almost a giggle when you turned to the source
the source being none other than song mingi- in a loose sleeveless white shirt with a denim outerwear and matching jeans
song mingi may be a ‘boring history teacher’ like you sometimes teased him
but that man has got impeccable style
“stop flattering poor miss y/n and find your seats, come on!”
the students laughed but obeyed and the class pres started the roll call
and you felt a little somersault in your stomach when you locked eyes with mingi
“you made it”
he grinned back. “did you think i wouldn’t?”
“i was hoping you would, actually.”
and that took mingi off guard
you weren’t always forward with what you said unlike him and he found you a bit hard to read sometimes
and oftentimes, you surprised him with your actions or your words, just like you did now
but mingi knew when to make something out of an opportunity
“well, you’re stuck being paired with the boring old history teacher. hope you don’t mind.”
“i never called you old, though,” you told him, smiling to yourself before following the guard’s orders and getting on the bus
.
mingi, of course, sat next to you, the only seat available
and you marvelled at the turn of events
because how long had you wished for some sort of proximity to happen?
it wasn’t easy to be alone in the school with him- not that you wanted to do anything alone with him, but
sometimes, you thought, it would have been nice if you got one-to-one interaction with him that wasn’t related to grading each other’s papers 
or sharing pointers about the next exam
sometimes, he would find you alone with your head in your hands
and he would decide not to disturb you and leave a little something for you near your desk for you to spot if you, well, got your head out of your hands
a candy or a ‘cheer up!’ note
you would also find him alone in some classroom sometimes
you noticed he preferred to be alone at times so you knew to look in his classroom first instead of the staff room
he would be so absorbed in whatever he was doing
that you would simply watch him until he felt your gaze burning into his skin
and then you would pretend to have been passing by 
and of course you ‘accidentally’ bought two of whatever you were going to snack on
mingi would offer you to join him but most of the times, you let him be
but sometimes, if the staff room was too noisy, you would join him
and the two of you would sit at opposite ends of the classroom doing your own work
(while secretly stealing glances but nobody needed to know that)
so now that you finally got to be alone with him
ignoring the twenty-some noisy children in the back- they could be considered background noise
you couldn’t help but play with your fingers
the bus started and mingi initiated conversation
telling you who was paired with who
each bus had at least one male and one female teacher and only two out of the four buses had two teachers
the other being jongho and gyeoul
“ah, gyeoul is going to forget she’s a teacher. i bet she’ll be sitting with the students playing uno with them.”
“jongho is going to drive the kids away with his dad jokes,” mingi tsk-ed. “but guess the most interesting pairing?”
us?
“hongjoong, wooyoung and yuqi.”
“no way!” you actually laughed out loud this time. “hongjoong’s going to regret ever planning this trip.”
“you bet,” he scoffed. “seonghwa, mina and eunha are in the other bus.”
“all the calm ones?”
“i switched with seonghwa, actually,” he admitted and you raised a brow. “seonghwa gets along with them. i get along with you. we might as well have a good time too, now that we’re here, right?”
right.
he switched to be with you
“you sure you won’t regret that decision?”
you didn’t expect his eyes to travel all over your face and his lips to curve into a smirk
“i’m sure.”
and that was your cue to check on your students
you took a round, making sure everyone was comfortable and told them all to just take a nap
there wasn’t anything interesting going to happen for a good few hours
lucky for you, the kids were sleepy
so the bus fell quiet, the driver assuring you that you both could relax too- there was another driver to keep him company anyway
so you asked mingi if he was sleepy
“not yet. are you?”
“not yet,” you confirmed.
“are you comfortable? do you need anything?”
you relaxed back, shoulder to shoulder with mingi, a small blanket on your lap. “i’m good. do you need anything?”
“not for now, nope,” he took a deep breath. “how long has it been since your last trip?”
.
and that was how you found yourself actually relaxing and talking to him
you told him your last trip was a while ago with your family
you didn’t want to count school trips but you told him about that too
and he told you about his experiences
just like that, you got to know each other a little better
details you wouldn’t have shared otherwise
from random facts about each other:
“i used to love reading. i became an english teacher because i would consume books like nothing else. but i haven’t read a new book in about a year.”
“i hated the idea of being a history major until one of my professors started using storytelling as a way to get us to learn about the world. i still remember the stories he’d make up.”
to gossip:
“i think i saw wooyoung checking out eunha earlier”
“don’t you think mina’s got a thing for seonghwa?”
somewhere between all of that, you got too sleepy to continue talking
you didn’t realise when you dozed off but when you woke up with a weight on your side
your heart almost stopped when you realised it was mingi resting his head against your shoulder
and quite comfortably at that
you realised you may have been resting your face on his head too
and the current position with your neck upright was sending a painful wave down your shoulder
so you decided to give in, checking the time- you could sleep for another hour
you went back to resting your face on top of his head, the bubbly smell of his shampoo lulling you right back to sleep
you woke up when you felt the bus stop and when you groggily lifted your head
you realised that mingi had been awake for quite some while, using his phone
but he never moved because you were using his head as a pillow
“oh my god,” you said, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn’t see your flaming cheeks. “i’m sorry, i didn’t realise-”
“it’s okay,” mingi chuckled, waving his hand in dismissal. “i’m to blame too.”
you looked at him to make sure it was really okay and when he said, “your snores are cute” you chucked your blanket at him and looked around
you were making a quick stop at a rest area
you woke the kids up and told them now was the time to get snacks or use the toilet
you met up with the teachers to have coffee, everyone in good spirits having woken up from their naps
the wind already felt different and fresh now that you were a few hundred miles away from the city
with newfound energy, you all got back into your buses and that was when the fun started-
for the kids.
it was suddenly too lively and noisy, loud music blasted in the bus and a few kids showing off their dance moves, the rest cheering them on
you clapped along, reminiscing about your own highschool time
soon, you reached the first town on your list- a town known for its historical ruins
though the kids had been complaining about visiting ruins- what’s there to learn about ruins?
you assured them the trip would only get better and you kept the ‘boring’ sites for the first few days
because you wanted to end the trip on a cheerful note- the beach
as the kids crowded and started following the teachers, you took note of their complaints and unsatisfied grunts
and though panic started bubbling in your heart- maybe you shouldn’t have put this town on the list? all your anxieties faded away when a certain history teacher stepped in to save the day
“alright, remember when i told you guys about the spirit of the exiled princess that haunts a certain town? that people spot in the forest sometimes?”
“is the spirit pretty?” a boy asked, earning a bunch of snickers from the crowd
but the way mingi smirked made them all shut up
“i guess you’ll find out soon.”
you winced when the kids burst into a chorus of cheers or frightened screams and the teachers shared a good laugh at how mingi handled this
“remember- if you find a four-leaf clover, the spirit might spare you!”
and as mingi guided them along the town, sharing fun facts about the sites, the kids kept their eyes trained on the ground in chances of finding the lucky leaf
really, it was worse than a needle in a haystack
.
after visiting a few sites, you found yourselves in the heart of the town, at a food street
all the class presidents were instructed to make sure the kids stay in sight and that they were free to go eat whatever they wanted
the kids were simply famished and just wanted those corn dogs and fish cakes
the staff took a table in the centre and you were glad that it was a weekday today- apart from a few people, you were the only ones here
you all got some noodles and double checked on your accommodations- it was supposed to rain so you wanted to check-in before dark
just like that, it was time to go find shelter
you stuck with your group of students like every other teacher 
and when you reached the lodge, you made sure everyone went to their rooms before finding your own that you were to share with the female staff
the rest of the girls were already there, removing their makeup and stretching. you smiled as you followed suit
“this trip is exactly what i needed,” yuqi slumped down on the mattress as she said. “even though today was a bit boring, the weather makes up for it.”
“well, the night isn’t over yet,” gyeoul smiled mischievously. “it doesn’t have to end on a boring note.”
she came up with the genius idea of having drinks in the backyard with the boys
mina sighed in disappointment because if gyeoul had told her earlier, she wouldn’t have removed her makeup so soon
“you’re pretty anyway,” eunha told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out
you told them you would join after a few minutes and changed into your pjs like the rest
when you went to the backyard, you let out a surprised laugh
because the boys had already prepared drinks for all of you before gyeoul
“great minds think alike” hongjoong said
“rich coming from you because all it takes is one drink and it’s game over for you,” wooyoung said and seonghwa’s laughter boomed in the air
“you’re no good either, seonghwa!” mingi pointed at the teacher, clicking his glass with wooyoung’s and sharing a shot
you smiled to yourself- it looked like you were going to make really good memories on this trip
you took a seat between the noisy ones- wooyoung and yuqi- and immediately started regretting it
because not only were the two of them were making you drink a lot, ensuring a good hangover
but they also kept teasing everyone (including you) and you thought they were too loud
not that you weren’t having fun
you surprised everyone by joining them after a few drinks, though you couldn’t defend yourself like the two did
what a team they made
of all the people, mingi noticed that perhaps… you needed to switch seats
or the environment- he didn’t want you to get too drunk
so when he subtly motioned for you to follow him, you nodded in answer
he told the drunk lot he would get more drinks
as if there weren’t a bunch of unopened bottles on the ground 
but thankfully they were too busy roasting each other to notice
and then you made the excuse of wanting to go to the toilet and left
you walked inside the hall, trying to figure out exactly where mingi had gone
you almost walked past him in the dark corridor and if mingi hadn’t grabbed your arm, you wouldn’t have known
you turned towards him, eyes wide in surprise
he immediately let go of you, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable
“wanna go see the stars?”
when he said that, you didn’t realise it would become a nighttime ritual for the two of you
because away from the city, you could see so many stars
that drunken night, you watched the stars with him in silence
too afraid to speak lest he figure out the desires within your heart
the desire to be with him, to get to know him more, to simply talk to him
but that comfortable silence definitely created a shift in your dynamics.
.
you didn’t travel much the next day, just explored the surroundings and made a trip to the top of the hill
taking as many photos as you wanted
capturing candids of the students and the teachers to share with them later
watching in fascination as some of the kids caught bugs quite easily
thanking the girls who made flower bracelets for all of you
and when you caught mingi smiling at the bracelet on his wrist, you showed off yours
“the boring old history teacher received a gift?” you teased
“you have to admit that they’re creative,” he laughed. “look- the boys want them too.”
the boys, in fact, wanted them. they were all queued up waiting for the girls to give them all a bracelet- or a ring
“oh, when we go back, there are gonna be so many campus couples,” eunha joined the two of you to watch the sight
really, it was pretty obvious who liked who- they wanted to receive the flowers from the person they liked
and the girls wanted to give the flowers to the person they liked
you wondered if they were so obvious… were you too? 
because it was common knowledge that wooyoung liked eunha- even right now, you caught him stealing glances at her
and if you looked behind you, mina was listening to seonghwa quite intently while he rambled on about something
hongjoong, who was right there, seemed the least interested
so when you looked up at mingi, you caught him staring at you and your heart skipped a beat
“you’ve got a little something on your head- a petal.”
“where?” you ran your fingers through your hair where he pointed but it seemed like you didn’t get it
and mingi decided to take the matter into his own hands and leaned down a bit to pick the petal from near your ear
and just like that, time stopped for a few seconds
maybe you should stop really stop reading novels
even though you haven’t read one in about a year
but just like in the books, the length of the duration- despite being only a matter of a few seconds- seemed too long
as you met his eyes, the golden rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his skin
and making his dark orbs more prominent
you wished he was wearing shades right now so you wouldn’t be entranced by the way his eyes scanned your face
but you blinked, and the moment was over- he drew away and tossed the petal on the ground, smiling awkwardly
and you were so glad jongho called you at that moment, having spotted a kitten and knowing how much you liked cats
you got busy with him, burying that moment aside for the time being
that night, you came back to the same lodge
you didn’t drink this time, having learned your lesson from how bad the hangover was in the morning
but you played a few games of uno and perhaps… this was noisier than last night
because there were quite a few sneaky players in this game
gyeoul and jongho- the evil duo of the school
“have some shame,” wooyoung tsk-ed at gyeoul who grinned at jongho- only you seemed to have noticed the look they shared
the look of an underlying scheme
you were sometimes surprised by how well they got along despite gyeoul being a few years older than all of you, and jongho being the youngest teacher in the school
like attracts like, apparently. evil attracts evil
you noticed jongho mouth a number at gyeoul and you realised what was going on
they either took a peek at the other teacher’s cards since there wasn’t much space here to hide your cards properly
or when jongho had shuffled the cards… he had pulled some trick at that time
either way, you weren’t going to let the two of them win- at least not them
so you looked at mingi who was right in front of you, and you subtly let him know that the two were at it again
he stifled a smile, whispering ‘i got this’ 
and the tables turned when within a few minutes, he somehow tricked gyeoul into playing her wild cards but completely destroyed her
he did not win the game but to you, he was the winner
and you told him that when he asked if you wanted to watch the stars a bit tonight too before sleeping
he laughed loudly at that, almost getting shy
.
and that night, you talked about the most random stuff. again.
it was like you could never run out of things to talk about
after all, there was so much to talk about
the work tea
recent developments- eunha was noticing wooyoung back and seonghwa was still an airhead
you thought seonghwa was just equally nice to everyone so it would be hard to figure out if he looked at mina differently
some students tea- one of the close-knit group of friends had a falling out during the trip
mingi was sure they would figure it out on their own
but you were sure one of them would come to you or wooyoung for advice
you both were the unofficial counsellors in your school
“why wooyoung?” mingi wondered. “why not me?”
“because you, mr. song, seem a tad bit intimidating at times.”
the puppy eyes of disbelief he made in response proved you wrong
“who? me?”
you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was looking at you
“sometimes, yes.”
“more than wooyoung?”
“wooyoung is a literal ball of sunshine though…”
mingi turned towards you, stepping closer
“do i seem intimidating to you too?”
though it was an innocent question
it did nothing to help the butterflies in your stomach
it took everything in you to shake your head no
because he felt intimidating sometimes, that was true
and if it wasn’t for his warm personality
you might not have ever interacted properly with him
mingi laughed to himself, perhaps knowing that you might be lying
and it fell silent all of a sudden
just the sound of the crickets and the rustling of the leaves
and the loud sound of your thoughts
the next two days were a blur
and you thought that when you would go back home, you would have to look at all the photos you took
to ingrain these memories in your brain
because the days were packed travelling and having fun
the bus rides were fun and now it was mr. song who showed his dance moves to the students
he was surprisingly very good- in fact- too good
you wondered if that was why he felt so chill- because he just had this chill groove to him
which showed a lot in his dance moves when he freestyled
you had to physically go and calm the girls after this because
suddenly they were seeing the boring old history teacher in a new light
you folded your arms when mingi made his way back, still laughing at the way the girls cheered for him and the boys clapped
he asked you if you liked what you saw
and that made you smack his arm and turn your focus out of the window to hide your blush admire the scenery
now it was mostly visiting a few spots such as more historical sites and shopping points
and during the day, you were usually with the girls so you could shop together
you tried the local delicacies which was a new experience for most of the people here
and visited an apple farm to help the farmers as well
since it was a packed two days, the teachers didn’t really play more uno or drink 
though all of you would gather, this time in the common room, to plan what was next
but both of these nights, mingi offered you the same thing-
wanna see the stars?
you learned more about him and he about you
you learned that he has always loved to dance 
and he loves karaokes- especially drunk karaokes
he learned more about your previous school experience 
how they overworked you so much 
combined with gaslighting, you thought it was normal and you were just lacking
he assured you that you made a good decision quitting
and commended you for taking the big step- after all, it must have been daunting
though he did not have a similar experience, he could understand you
just like that, you learned the little things about each other
and now that the trip was almost over, you told mingi that you would like to take a walk around while you watched the stars
.
while walking, you were suddenly reminded of the time the staff went out for dinner once
and everyone was at least a bit tipsy if not drunk
when it was time to wrap up and mingi saw that you meant to walk home
he offered to accompany you
and that was only a few months after you started teaching so you weren’t very familiar with all the teachers
though you were pretty sure they were all very nice
you told mingi that he was too drunk but he insisted anyway
and you let him walk you to your neighbourhood which wasn’t far from there
now, almost two years later, you were both taking a walk again and it was oddly reminiscent of that time
and it seemed like mingi was thinking the same when he asked you if you remembered when he first walked you home
“i never told you but i didn’t remember for a while,” he confessed, the rustling of the leaves under your steps growing louder as you stepped on the autumn leaves
you weren’t surprised, if you were honest
“it’s okay. you didn’t do anything stupid. except make crow noises, but that’s okay.”
mingi covered his face in his hands as he laughed and you smiled
“i may or may not have been trying to impress you.”
“really? it was a success. i haven’t heard many people pull off crow noises that well.”
when mingi made a face at that, you lightly punched his arm
“it really is okay. but i have one little favour to ask…”
mingi knew what was coming before you said it
and you both walked a bit further from the hotel
making sure no one was around
before mingi turned away from you and made the loudest caws
and this time, you laughed heartily 
you were so absorbed in your little bubble that when you heard the sound of a door opening
probably the door of the nearest lodge who heard strange sounds in the middle of the night
you grabbed mingi’s hand instinctively and started running away from the source of the sound
the two of you couldn’t stop laughing, even as you ran
so much that it made it harder to run, actually
he took the lead and guided you to the benches to catch your breaths
and it was only after a couple of minutes when your breathing returned to normal
and the adrenaline started to wear off
that you realised the two of you were still holding hands
maybe because the muscles of your arm tensed at the sudden realisation that mingi finally noticed your joined hands
but when he glanced at you and found the corners of your lips curved in a small smile at the sight
he squeezed your hand instead of letting it go
and you looked up at him to see him shyly smiling
“what?” you asked
you couldn’t help it- you needed to know what he was thinking
“nothing, y/n,” he shook his head though he was unable to stifle his smile
“it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “why are you trying so hard not to smile?”
“it’s because i quite like this,” he finally admitted, raising your joined hands and you noticed how small your hand was in his, almost swallowed in his grip
for once, you were the one who was at a loss for words
“did i say something wrong?” mingi asked
and you wished he wasn’t so straightforward
but perhaps, it was for the better
and you thought the timing felt right too
the sky looked beautiful
the air felt like it was enveloping you in its embrace
the moon beautifully lit his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features
yet casting such a soft, welcoming glow
you shook your head, caressing the skin of his hand with your thumb in answer
there was no need for words anymore- the feelings were reciprocated, and you both could feel that
.
mingi made a daring move when he raised your joined hands in the air again
you wondered what he was up to now
but the last thing you expected was for him to kiss the back of your hand
it was such an endearing action that you could not help but giggle
“can’t we stay like this even when we go back home?”
an offer. a question. a confession. it was all of that and more
“i don’t think you can see many stars in the city though.”
“i don’t think i would have to look for stars,” mingi said, looking right at you
that was enough
you smacked his arm. “that’s the cheesiest pick up line i’ve ever heard. you really are the boring old history teacher, mingi.”
you started to go back, folding your arms and still giggling especially when mingi laughed loudly, rushing after you
you tried to run but damn his long legs
he caught up to you, running backwards in front of you now
you pouted as you tried to cross him, but he just won’t let you
“you haven’t answered my questions.”
you paused. you really hadn’t, huh?
he stepped closer to you, trying to read your face for a hint of what was going on behind your eyes
and you thought it was time to finally follow your heart’s desires
and test the waters without any fear
you stepped closer, surprising him
you placed a hand on his shoulder and he wondered what you were about to do
he shut his eyes when you stood on your tiptoes, inches away from him
and you took a moment to drink in the sight
before you pecked his cheek, a giggle escaping your mouth
and this time, you ran for your life
because you didn’t think you could take anything else right now
especially because you had waited so long for some sort of a signal from him
though you wanted nothing more than to hug him and stay there for the rest of the night
you let him chase you and let him hold your hand again
when it was time to separate to go to your respective rooms
he patted your cheek, looking at you with such soft eyes that you melted
and you knew, in that moment
that you were absolutely done for
the travelling time for the next day was a bit longer
which meant you got to spend more time with mingi on the bus
and it was a little awkward at first, the both of you fumbling around like the very teenagers you were making fun of not too long ago
the very teenagers that were on the bus right now
and it took you both a while to stop fidgeting and do something other than awkwardly laugh
thankfully, one of the students came forward with some snacks to share
and thus began a discussion of which snacks were better and which were mid-tier
you both were so enthusiastic about this that the students joined as well
before you knew it, you reached the outskirts of the village you were going to stay in for the next two days
and you thought beautiful was an understatement
the sea was so bright that it looked like a sheet of clear crystals under the sun
the air smelt of salt and sand and you felt a sense of relief
and so did the rest of the passengers- you could hear the soft sighs of the students
this was why you planned the trip
so everyone could just relax at the seaside
there was nothing planned for the last two days- there were a few sites so the students could divide into groups according to where they wanted to go
and the teachers would divide and tag along accordingly
the next two days were all about having fun
no more historical sights, as the kids teased mingi
though mingi retorted with a poetic ‘history is everywhere’ that earned him a few grimaces
as soon as you reached the lodges by the beach, the kids all ran towards the sea with the teachers shouting concerningly
thankfully, there were a few lifeguards since it was a tourist destination
so all of you decided to relax a little too, while still keeping an eye on the kids
.
that day, you all simply enjoyed being on the beach
making sandcastles, playing volleyball, swimming and collecting shells and rocks
mingi was out with his sleeveless again, no jacket covering his arms this time
you had a tough time if you were honest
and so did mina who couldn’t stop sighing at the sight of seonghwa’s long wet hair matted to his face
you could kind of relate to her, though your eyes only followed mingi
and perhaps, you were as obvious as mina now
because a certain menace came to stand next to you
“was just curious why you keep grinning into the distance. but nope. you’re just watching that fool. also, maybe wipe the drool off your mouth.”
you glared at wooyoung
“when you wipe yours. do you want to know what eunha thinks about you?”
suddenly, he’s ready to bow in front of you if necessary and you laughed
you’re both just two lovesick birds at this point and decided to calm yourself by making some sandcastles
“i never realised you got the hots for mingi too,” wooyoung said while trying to place a shell on the top of the lopsided castle. 
“what do you mean ‘too’?” you asked absently, more focused on making sure the whole thing wouldn’t collapse because of a shell
“he’s liked you for the longest time, y/n. you’ve just only noticed now.”
oh. 
that can’t be true, can it?
“are you sure?”
“i mean, he literally watches the stars with you every night. why else would he do that? and only with you? i like watching stars too, he knows. never offered me now, did he?”
you snorted at that
it did make sense
plus, with the events of last night… he must like you a little, right?
you decided to confirm it tonight
this time, you were the one who asked to watch the stars with him
after dinner when you made sure all the kids were in their rooms
the whole staff went to watch the stars, actually
you couldn’t miss it here- the full moon was the cherry on the top
however, you noticed how wooyoung and eunha found a spot away from the rest
mina also managed to get seonghwa to follow him- and perhaps, you thought, he really did like mina 
the rest were in their own bubble
and you grabbed mingi’s hand to lead him towards the big rock you had spotted earlier
where you could have a little privacy 
not that you aimed to do anything, no
you just wanted him all to yourself
was it selfish of you? yes. absolutely. but did you care? 
nope
did mingi care? he followed you willingly
this time, you were more touchy with each other
while you talked about how much you had missed the beach, his fingers trailed the curves of your hand absently
you brushed the sand off his cheekbone
and he scooted closer to you
“i don’t want to go back now,” you sighed happily
you really didn’t want to- it was too peaceful here
and you had never felt more content
“neither do i,” mingi said. “but at the same time… i do.”
“hmm… are you sick of watching the stars with me?”
mingi laughed at that
“i thought by now you knew that i never watched the stars.”
your heart did a few flips at his words and you glanced at him
he was right- he never really looked at the stars
he was always watching you
“would you like to see the stars when we go back?”
“every day, if i can?” he tucked your hair behind your ear as he said
“i really like you, y/n.”
.
god
it’s like you’re the high school student on a trip the way you’re feeling right now
you smiled, looking away and shyly responding
“i really like you too, mingi. i have, for a long time now.”
“how long?” the goofy mingi was back
“never answering that by the way,” you said, getting up and away from him. “you cannot extract that information out of me.”
“y/n!” he yelled your name in warning and you laughed as you tried to make a dash
but he was far too quick and he grabbed your wrist
you had to put your free hand over your mouth to keep your laugh from booming across the horizon
but you could not contain it when he pulled you in to his chest
you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his slim waist
and he curled in your hold, rocking you back and forth
“you’re too tall, by the way,” you said when you realised you were on your tiptoes and he was leaning down
he parted with a kiss on your cheek, pinching your nose afterwards
sending your brain into a spiral, turning you into mush
“you’re too cute.”
no.
you’re too insane because you want to kiss him right now
and you don’t know what took over you when you did just that- pecked his lips, surprising both of you
giggling when his eyes went a little wide 
your grin almost faded when he didn’t respond
but before you could say or do something, he crashed his lips on yours
kissing you deeply, once before drawing away and making sure that it was okay
oh, it was more than okay
but he decided to keep things calm, kissing you slowly and testing the waters
it was perfect in every way, more than what you ever dreamed about
you just never expected this
you and mingi on this beautiful beach, the full moon shining on you two, the waves almost washing your feet
all the four-leaf clovers you found were worth it, it seemed
now that you were sort of official
you spent the next two days with each other
without any hesitation this time
the others barely noticed the difference and you realised that it was because perhaps, the two of you had always looked at each other that way
(or maybe a certain kim hongjoong told them to shut up and let you two enjoy)
but either way, the others let you two tag together when you accompanied the students into town
you went to the local shops and this time, you bought things for your friends and family just like the students
you all had bbq before coming back to the lodges
and that night, you gifted mingi a silly pair of sunglasses
round sunglasses with wide white rims
and when he wore them, you burst into a fit of giggles
“you look like willy wonka from charlie and the chocolate factory”
“do i?” mingi asked, unlocking his phone to check
“mingi wonka. mingi wonka, the amazing history teach~”
you were pretty sure your laughter was heard by everyone on the beach as he chased you 
you decided to take refuge in the waves of the sea and started swimming away from him
but he was quick to follow
and once he caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist, you laughed shyly
“someone will see us!”
but when you turned in his arms
the moonlight illuminating his face but hiding his eyes due to the glasses he still had on
you tried taking them off his face but he grabbed your wrists
“yeah, keep them on,” you whispered. “they suit you.”
“i can’t tell if this is a joke or not,” he smiled a bit
“you just need a hat and a cane to go along with it-”
and before you knew it, mingi put his hand on top of your head and dunked you under the sea
you splashed water on him in revenge
and the two of you chased each other again until he finally caught you
and this time, you thought he really did look beautiful with the damp hair and the glasses
so you didn’t try to wriggle away from his grasp when he leaned in to kiss you
.
the last day, everyone decided to just laze around at the beach
the kids played in the water all day
and it was a bit cloudy so the heat was tolerable too
you wore a hat, resting your back against a rock
and whoever passed by would mess up your hat, annoying you
wooyoung decided to step in to guard you
but also for advice
“would it be too much if i cook and take eunha to a private spot for a little picnic?”
you shut the book you had been trying to read and turned your focus to wooyoung
“that sounds cute, actually. would she accompany you willingly?”
wooyoung smacked your arm and you snickered. “she gifted me my favourite perfume last night.”
“so?”
“how did she know?” wooyoung folded his arms. “i’ve never talked about which perfume i wear. no one knows, but she knew.”
this time, you let out a long ‘oh’ as you pondered
“you’re telling me she did her research?”
wooyoung nodded, very pleased
“do you know what her favourite food is?”
“that’s what i came to ask.”
you both did a little planning and wooyoung admitted that he had noticed a shift in your relationship with mingi too
you asked him if you were that obvious
and almost comically, you both looked towards seonghwa
“he’s hopeless,” wooyoung concluded
for some reason, mingi was very curious about what you two were talking about
(or maybe he just wanted you all to himself for the time being)
and he told you that intrusive thought that night
it was the last night of the trip and you would be leaving for home in the morning
so you told him that he better get used to the lack of proximity
because during school hours, it would be pretty packed especially now that exams were nearer
and after that, you both would have too much to work on
“will i be able to see you often then?”
“i mean…” you began. “what are we?”
mingi’s mouth formed an o shape as he realised
that you two hadn’t really talked about this
“shall i ask you out?”
“if i have to tell you that…” you scowled at him and he laughed
digging into his pocket to extract a small box
it was your mouth forming the o shape now
he opened the box to reveal a set of matching bracelets
a pretty little silver chain, very subtle, and just how you preferred
“will you go out with me?”
you made an impressed face, accepting the bracelet
“i didn’t know you were such a romantic”
“there are a lot of things you don’t know yet”
“i’m pretty sure i don’t need to know most of those things-”
mingi only laughed this time 
that night came to be a memorable one
as the trip concluded and you got back to your daily routine
you found that it no longer felt mechanical
you started off with a smile on your face
even mondays felt exciting 
because you could see mingi at school
you would eat lunch together everyday with the rest of the staff
but it was official now- you and mingi
and wooyoung and eunha
the latter was more unexpected, the staff revealed
and you were flustered to hear about how obvious the two of you had been
but it was okay
seonghwa finally noticed that mina acted differently only around him
and was left confused as he tried to figure out how he felt
hongjoong and yuqi were your new enemies
they made it their life’s mission to never let you couples have a peaceful moment
at least wooyoung could fight back
you and mingi were the type to let him bully you
and the students?
they thought they were being subtle when they tried to make the two of you cross each other at the same corridor
or when they casually told you things about each other, little updates
you caught on pretty quick but you let them be
though it was all fun and jokes
hongjoong told you a little secret later on
that mingi had specifically requested to come on this trip because of you
it was endearing
after school, mingi would walk you home every night
because that was the time you could catch up with each other in private
sometimes, you would stop by to have dinner or coffee
you met each other’s families and they instantly liked you
everything was perfect
everything was perfect, just like the waves had been on that beach 
calm, playful but strong
just like your love for each other
and every night before you went to sleep
(if you were not sleeping beside mingi)
you would look at the grid on your wall
at the pictures of you and mingi on the beach
and the picture of him in those silly glasses that suited him so well
and if you were sleeping beside mingi?
well
you could just look at the real thing :D 
620 notes · View notes
andypantsx3 · 4 days
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4
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Then
“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.
A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.
“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.
Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”
Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”
You looked down at him curiously. “What?”
“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.
“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”
Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”
That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”
Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”
You nodded. “Definitely.”
He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.
“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.
You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.
“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.
You were still his favorite, it seemed.
The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.
Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.
You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.
Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”
You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.
It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.
You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.
As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.
You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.
Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.
“Caught you,” he called up to you.
You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”
Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.
You grinned. “Not until I get down.”
A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.
“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.
You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”
A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.
You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”
“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.
You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”
Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”
The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”
Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.
You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.
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Now
The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.
It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.
You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.
You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.
After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.
It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.
The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.
You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.
Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.
The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.
You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.
You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.
The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.
You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.
Perfect.
You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.
You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.
You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?
Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.
Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.
“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.
Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.
Nope. No.
“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”
You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.
You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”
Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.
In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.
Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.
Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.
Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.
“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”
Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”
You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”
Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”
That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”
“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.
You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.
You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?
“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.
The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.
But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.
Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…
You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.
Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.
With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.
“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”
You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.
He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.
Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.
You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.
You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.
His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.
What was with him today?
“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”
Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.
“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.
His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.
You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.
Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.
All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.
“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.
But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.
Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.
Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.
“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”
His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.
Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”
Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.
It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.
Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—
“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”
Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.
“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”
Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”
You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.
Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.
“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.
“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”
A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.
But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.
“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.
A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”
You fought down a furious flush.
“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.
“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”
The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?
“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”
Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.
Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.
God how had you missed this?
You rallied yourself for one last defense.
“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”
Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.
“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.
You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.
“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.
Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.
Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.
“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.
God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.
The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.
Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.
“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.
You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.
Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.
“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.
And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.
Surrendering, you let yourself fall.
“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”
Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.
You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.
Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.
You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.
Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.
Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.
You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.
He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.
You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.
You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.
You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.
He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.
He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.
He looked too good to be real.
“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.
Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.
“You don’t want—?” you said.
Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”
Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.
“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.
Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.
The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.
You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.
By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.
Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.
Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.
Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.
Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.
“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.
His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.
“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.
Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.
“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.
The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.
You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.
Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”
Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.
You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.
“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”
“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.
“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.
Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.
“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”
Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.
“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.
Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.
Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.
“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.
“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.
A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.
Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.
“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.
You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”
You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.
“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.
The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.
“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”
Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”
Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”
Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”
Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.
Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.
He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.
“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.
Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”
Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.
“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.
You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.
A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”
You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.
“The—what?” you asked.
“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—
“What bookstore?” you asked.
Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.
“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.
Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”
Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.
“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.
“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.
Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”
A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”
A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”
You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.
“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.
You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.
And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.
“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.
“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.
You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.
But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.
“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.
You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.
You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.
You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.
“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.
You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.
“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.
You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.
Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.
You had the rest of your life together, after all.
691 notes · View notes
ddarker-dreams · 2 months
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Better The Devil You Know.
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Yandere Chrollo x Reader.
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety. Word count: 2.6k.
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You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks. 
It isn’t a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesn’t dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation. 
You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. It’s clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed. 
It’s better than the chill of encroaching death. 
… 
You are alive, aren’t you? 
This question prompts an investigation. 
Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but that’s a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your body’s condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.  
Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body? 
You shake your head. 
This can’t be heaven — no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity. 
It can’t be hell either. If it were, you wouldn’t be alone right now.
You blink.
You’re alone? 
Chrollo’s side of the bed is notably empty. He must’ve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor. 
The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although it’s dimly lit, you can tell he isn’t here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; you’re truly by yourself. 
What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread. 
You return to the common room to assess the situation. 
You’ve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when he’ll return. There’s no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your body’s displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels. 
The thrum of the air conditioner eases away. 
You’re left in absolute silence, until Chrollo’s voice fades away, replaced by another.
“... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. There’d been this game she wanted and, y’know, kids aren’t rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught ‘er with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.”
Your lower lip trembles. 
“... That’s how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasn’t anything else left to go off of. I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have that— all that— reduced to just… just a couple, couple fuckin’— teeth? What kinda joke is that?”
You fill a glass with water until it overflows.  
“Hey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned ‘er? … Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.” 
Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat. 
“Who knows? Maybe I’m the one in the wrong ‘ere. Hell, you don’t look much older than her yourself. I don’t— don’t wanna hurt ya. But…” 
Tears prick the corner of your eyes. 
“There’s no other way to hurt him.” 
Someone’s beside you.
You can hear their voice, though it sounds like it’s coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. It’s distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldn’t scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine. 
You dig your nails into something — fabric, perhaps — but nothing grounds you. It’s like you’ve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control. 
And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the sound’s source. 
Maybe you should.
Even if you’ll come to regret it. 
When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own. 
Presently, they can’t. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated. 
“Where were—” You silence yourself, aghast by the implication. 
You’d sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you would’ve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. There’s no doubt he’d find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesn’t advance, you’d barely created any distance. 
“There’d been something that required my immediate attention,” Chrollo answers your unfinished question. There’s no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. “Does anything hurt?” 
It’s then that you recall your predicament. 
You’re on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrollo’s bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He must’ve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. There’s a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. It’s awkward enough that he found you in this state. 
You’re sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, you’re hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success. 
“You’re alright,” he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming. "Everything's alright."
He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. You’d be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. It’s big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like you’d prefer. 
“Should I grab your propranolol?” 
Another head shake.
“Will you tell me what happened?” Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, “Verbally?” 
You clear your throat as quietly as you can. “I got thirsty.” 
“Hm.” 
You both know he isn’t convinced. It’d be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything — intentionally or not — but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on. 
“... Chrollo?” 
He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. “Yes, love?” 
“If that man killed me, would it have hurt you?” 
A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isn’t from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity. 
Finally, he slowly replies, “Yes, it would’ve.” 
“Then why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?” You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. “You might’ve liked her, if you’d gotten to know her.” 
The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis — a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. She’d recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasn’t going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where she’d then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, he’d squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said he’d never forgive himself or the Troupe. 
“She wasn’t s’posed to have been there,” he wheezed. “She never should’ve been there…!” 
Chrollo shuts his eyes. “What are you getting at, dear?” 
His words come out light, though they’re anything but. 
“She could’ve been me.” 
“Yet she wasn’t.” 
“But—!” Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. “You… you deprive the world of people you could’ve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is that… how can you…” 
Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.
“You don’t need to understand.” 
This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.
“Huh?” 
“Yes… if anything, it’s best if you don’t,” he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. “I can’t make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, you’d no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. It’s the one part of you I’ll leave untouched.” 
You don’t know what you were expecting. 
You slump back into your seat. “... Don’t you think you’re overestimating yourself?” 
“Hardly,” he replies. Then, in a softer voice, “You torment yourself, love. This—” 
He rests his hand over your heart.
“—Hurts you more than anything I’ve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable I’d do away with such an inconvenience.” 
“So you’re a coward,” you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. “You can’t handle it, so you took the easy way out.” 
“Rationalize it anyway you'd like.” 
Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the man’s restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. They’re etched into your bones. 
“Isn’t going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. “That girl’s father knew you had no involvement in his daughter’s death. You’re an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."
Your mouth feels dry. “He didn't hurt me—” 
Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.
“—All... that... much. I don’t think he was going to...?” 
“No, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,” Chrollo retorts. “We’ll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."
That point, that point, that point...
What could that man have done to you?
Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.
After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.
He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"
Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.
He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."
If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.
"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."
"How about your second?"
You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.
It's weird.
This is weird.
The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.
Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.
It isn't, however.
So you'll need to keep your wits about you.
"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"
The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.
You feel as small now as you did then.
The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.
But why on you?
Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?
And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?
You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.
"You must've been scared," he murmurs.
This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.
"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."
The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.
"... They can be made examples of too."
Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.
Your part your lips.
Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.
It's an understandable sentiment.
For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.
704 notes · View notes
bixels · 8 months
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What's K.O. CRISIS?
Hey all. Over the past couple months, I've gotten a lot of followers who probably don't know about my OCs and portfolio projects that I'm also working on, so I'm making a quick master-post for it!
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K.O. CRISIS is a series of artwork––character designs, illustrations, sketches, and animations––inspired by late-90s/early-2000s anime and Y2K culture.
Set in an alternate-history Los Angeles in the year 2001, the story follows disabled Taiwanese-American Ashley Tang as she fights her way to the top of the bracket in the national augmented boxing championship.
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As the youngest female fighter in the championship, she'll have to fight tooth-and-nail to defend her place amongst the heavy-weights. While her rare dual arm prosthetics help even the playing fields, it'll take more than brute strength to prove her worth.
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But this isn't a story about an underdog triumphing against all odds. Throughout the story, Ashley will push herself to the limit for the sake of validating her existence under the grinding heel of the sports media machine, in a world that values disabled bodies more than their lives. As the championship rages on, one question seems to linger through the roar: Is Ash strong enough to win, or is she brave enough to quit?
Through the project, I'm hoping to explore representations of prosthetic-users in pop culture as "enhanced superheroes," as well as discussions of trans-humanism under medical capitalism, the fetishization of new technology, and the commodification of disabled people as entertainment.
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Accompanying her journey include characters like Noora Balakrishnan, a local transfem prosthetics engineer who doubles as Ashley's ringside mechanical cutwoman.
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The project is still in its early stages, especially since I sorta rebooted it earlier this year (meaning I'm no longer using past, outdated art for the project). If you enjoy it, you can find more artwork for the project under the #ko crisis tag!
2K notes · View notes
roosterr · 8 months
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love you from afar
note: this has been in my drafts since MARCH. can't decide whether i like it or not lol. @wetsocksinbed angsty fic is up next >:)
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pairing: john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader
wc: 9.5k (oops)
summary: you receive a series of mysterious gifts from a mysterious admirer.
warnings: longing, yearning, pining, best friends to lovers trope, idiots in love, heavy on the idiots part, tooth-rotting fluff
ao3
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over the last two weeks, you’ve noticed some odd things happening around you; a good kind of odd, the kind that left you thoroughly confused, but was heartwarming nonetheless.
after going back and forth with it in your mind, you've come to the conclusion that you have a secret admirer. it was odd, and a little hard to believe, but it was the only option that made any sense to you. in all honesty, it was probably just your hopeless-romantic heart clouding your mind with optimism, but one can dream.
the first incident was harmless enough, a small inconspicuous gesture that was so subtle, in fact, that you barely paid it any notice at first.
it was the dead of night, and you’d just returned from a particularly gruelling solo mission, uninjured but bone tired and desperate to collapse into your bed and finally sleep. before you could fall into the blankets, however, you noticed through the darkness of your room something strange.
resting neatly on your pillow, illuminated by the dim light of your phone screen, was a single bar of your favourite chocolate. you didn’t remember buying it, and certainly didn’t remember leaving it there, but it was exactly the kind of pick-me-up you needed after the day you’d had. at the time, you’d chalked it up to you simply being forgetful, devoured the chocolate in record time, and promptly knocked out.
over breakfast the next morning, you'd recounted to the others the mysterious appearing chocolate as a funny anecdote; the five of you had laughed about your terrible memory, and you'd moved on. but now you weren’t on the verge of blacking out, you couldn’t help but think of it as weird.
for the life of you, you couldn’t remember buying the chocolate bar, and it didn’t make sense that you would leave it on your pillow like that. what did make sense, however bizarre it may seem, was someone else leaving it for you – but you had no idea who would do that for you, or why. either way, you didn't imagine that anything else would come from it.
the next incident happened three days later.
during training that afternoon, you were in the middle of running laps around base, when you’d – stupidly – tripped over a ditch in the ground and rolled your ankle pretty badly. it hurt too much to put any weight on it, so you’d sat there in shame with no choice but to wait for a few minutes until gaz and soap caught up to you.
as they rounded the corner, you'd reluctantly waved them over with a grimace at how your ankle was throbbing in your boot. johnny was immediately crouching by your side, abandoning the idea of training to focus completely on you.
"christ, what happened?" he fussed, worry creasing his face and making your own heat up under the attention.
"i tripped…" you mumbled, dragging a hand over your embarrassed expression. it was bad enough that you'd made such a simple mistake, but now the man you were crushing on, hard, was lifting your leg so gently and untying your laces and you were certain you were moments away from cardiac arrest.
he'd ushered gaz away to continue his run, telling him he'd accompany you to the infirmary with a tone that left no room for argument. not that gaz would've, the knowing look he sent you as he jogged away told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.
after making sure nothing was broken, soap had pulled you to stand with an arm around your waist, supporting you with his solid frame when you stumbled. 
"sure y'don't want me to carry you?" he'd teased, earning a laugh from you as you wobbled in his arms. as you chuckled though, you noticed a hint of what seemed like sincerity in his eyes. you'd felt your face burning again at the implication that he really would carry you, if that's what you'd wanted, and quickly started dragging him along with you in an attempt to hide your flustered state. 
he'd kept his arm around your waist the entire way to the medical wing, only releasing you when you were sat in front of the doctor, which did absolutely nothing to calm your racing heart. to your dismay, he couldn't stay with you – you were still in the middle of training, after all. 
"you sure you'll be alright by yourself?" he'd asked as he left, and the concern in his eyes almost finished you off. you were almost glad he didn't stick around to see the effect he had on you.
luckily, after a quick inspection, the doctor concluded that you only had a minor sprain, and you'd be good as new in a couple of weeks. she'd sent you on your way with an ice pack, a crutch, and strict instructions to stay off your feet.
you would've gone back outside to watch the boys (mainly soap) finish the rest of their exercises, but honestly, the embarrassment of what happened had you wanting to curl up with a pillow over your face for the rest of the day; so that's exactly what you found yourself doing.
you must've drifted off to sleep at some point, because once you finally sat up again, the sun had painted the horizon a bright orange, and your stomach had begun to rumble.
as you went to walk out into the hall, you heard the crinkle of plastic under your boot, pausing you mid‐step. when you looked down, you were stunned to find a bundle of three beautiful white flowers – gardenias, you'd found out after googling them later. an incredibly warm feeling blossomed in your chest, and despite your best efforts, your eyes had welled up with tears. you couldn't even think of the last time someone bought you flowers. there was no note attached, meaning you had no way of knowing who had left them for you, which sent your mind back to the chocolate bar from a few days ago.
so i'm not going crazy, you'd thought to yourself, someone really did leave it for me. but still, you had no clue who this mystery gift-giver could be.
you'd carefully picked them up, being mindful of your ankle, and turned back around to put them in your room. there wasn't really anywhere to put them, so you just set them on the ledge of your windowsill and made a mental note to find a vase for them at some point.
when you eventually made it to the mess hall, there were very few people left, leaving the room unusually calm. ghost was sat by himself at one of the far tables, so you hobbled over on your crutch to sit with him while you ate.
you sat down opposite him, and he'd looked up, gave you a subtle nod, and gone back to eating with his eyes fixed on the table in front of him. the two of you ate like that for a while, sitting quietly in each others presence.
ghost had been the first to break the silence, asking you, "how's the ankle?" as he pulled his balaclava back down to cover his mouth.
"just sprained," you'd replied, looking up to meet his eyes. another beat of silence fell over you, before you continued, "did you see who left me those flowers?" you'd asked him; it was worth a shot, you figured not much gets past ghost. to your dismay, he simply shook his head, standing and mumbling a goodbye as he left.
you were only more confused now. if ghost didn't know who it was – and, granted, you wouldn't actually be able to tell if he was lying, but you trusted him – then who would know? the next day, you'd asked the other boys, but they'd all said the same thing, even the captain. so you were left with nothing to do but wonder who on earth could be leaving you these gifts.
after that, it was another four days until your secret admirer struck again.
you'd been in and out of briefings and debriefings and meetings all day, your mind was beginning to numb with all the information that had been unloaded. you were tired; not quite the same exhaustion you'd felt coming back from your mission earlier in the week, though, this time you were at the end of your rope mentally. there hadn't been a moments peace since you got out of bed, and once that excruciatingly long day was over and you were relaxing in the common room, you'd had no energy to actually engage with your friends.
you were nestled into one end of the sofa with gaz next to you, ghost on his other side, and soap in the armchair with a small book in his hands. they were all chatting, with you occasionally saying a thing or two, but you were mostly just zoned out with their conversation serving as white noise in the background.
occasionally, you'd look up and catch soap already watching you, but he'd quickly turn his gaze back down to his book. his attention caused you to be equal parts flustered and confused. if you'd been any more awake, you probably would've asked him if something was wrong, but you were already having trouble keeping your head up as it was.
once you felt your eyes slip closed one too many times, you'd decided it was time to turn in for the night. with a quick 'goodnight' to the others, you'd made a beeline straight for your room – but it was more of a hobble, since your ankle still required you to walk with a crutch.
that night you'd slept like a baby, waking up early the next morning feeling well rested, and thankfully your ankle had even started to feel better. though you still couldn't join the team's training sessions, you had other responsibilities to fulfil, so unfortinately you did have to get up at some point.
you'd just finished lacing up your boots when you noticed it; a single sheet of paper on the ground by your door, folded once in half so you can't see what's written on it. from where it lays, you conclude that whoever left it must've slipped it through the gap under your door while you slept. you'd picked it up and sat back on the edge of your bed to unfold it, your curiosity certainly piqued. it make you wonder, though, what reason someone could have for leaving you a note.
except, when you'd lifted the page it wasn't a note at all. on the slightly wrinkled paper were a number of beautiful pencil drawings – drawings of you. the surprise of seeing your own face staring back at you nearly stopped your poor heart.
the jagged edge on one side of the page indicated that it must have been torn out of a sketchbook, which had interested you even more. you couldn't think of anyone you knew who could draw, let alone who would have a sketchbook dedicated to it.
whoever made this, it was clear that art was a passion of theirs – these drawings were really good. your hair, your eyes, the subtle expression on your features, every line was expertly crafted. it was incredibly flattering, and admittedly boosted your ego a little with how good those sketches made you look.
as you sat there smiling to yourself, you'd glanced up to the three flowers blooming on your nightstand. like the gardenias, the drawings were from your secret admirer, there was no other explanation; and an admirer they were, it was abundantly clear from these sketches that this person had an appreciation for you, if only from afar.
the drawings had been your favourite so far, but unfortunately, it was almost a week until your admirer made another move.
it had been long enough for you to start walking properly on your ankle again, and so you'd been slowly easing back into your workout routine, starting with your morning run. you'd taken it slow with lots of breaks to rest your muscles, but still decided to call it early, which had you back at your locker earlier than usual. as you were rounding the corner to the locker room, you'd heard the door slam closed and a set of heavy footsteps racing down the corridor. you'd only caught a glimpse of whoever it was as they dashed around the other corner, quick enough that you weren't able to see who it was.
you'd been concerned at first, whoever it was had been in a terrible rush, but you'd quickly shaken it off – it wasn't uncommon for people to be rushing around base, especially first thing in the morning. with your own meeting to get to, you'd decided not to dwell on the strange almost-encounter, and carried on with grabbing your towel from the bench and showering.
as you opened the door to your locker to fetch your clean clothes, sitting front and centre on top of them was something you definitely hadn't left there; a bag of your favourite hard candy, unopened, in the space that had been empty not half an hour before. how did these get here? you'd asked yourself, and you stood there confused for a moment or two before the answer came to you.
of course, your secret admirer. you'd felt the familiar giddy excitement bubble up in your chest at the revelation. it had been a while since the page of drawings had been slipped under your door, and it pained you how the gardenias had begun to wilt already. honestly, you'd been slightly worried that they'd given up, or something had happened to them. thankfully though, they seemed to be doing just fine, and you were too with such a pleasant start to your day.
it wasn't until you were sat in the meeting room, munching on your sweets and waiting for the others to arrive, that you realised.
the person, the one who'd been in a hurry as you got back from your run, it was them; that person was your secret admirer. they had to be, you'd concluded, the sweets weren't in your locker when you'd been in there earlier, and you did cut your run short, so they probably hadn't expected you to return so soon – that's why they'd been in such a rush to get away.
the revelation had butterflies swarming in your stomach, the idea of being so close to finding out who it was that held such fond affection for you sparking giddy excitement in you; but at the same time, it filled you with a sickly apprehension.
the problem was that you already knew who you wanted it to be – you had from the beginning – and you worried that uncovering their identity would only lead to disappointment; because there was no possible way john mactavish could feel the same way you felt about him.
soap had always been nothing short of kind and respectful of you, never stepping over the unspoken line if being your closest friend. sometimes, you can fool yourself into thinking he treats you differently – when he checks in on you after missions, when he always saves you a seat next to him in meetings, when he'd practically carried you to the infirmary, all of it ignited a warm feeling in your chest. but then you think about it a little more, and remember that all those nice gestures, that's just who he is. he wormed his way into the heart of ghost, for fucks sake, it was almost impossible not to like him.
you'd been so lost in thought, that gaz sitting in the seat next to you had startled you back to reality.
"gonna share with the class?" he'd asked with a teasing smirk, gesturing to the sweets sitting on the table in front of you. he'd reached out to grab one, but you'd pushed his hand away and snatched the bag to your chest.
"no way," you'd said with a playful glare, sending a quick smile to soap who'd taken the seat on your other side, "these are from my secret admirer, get your own."
gaz paused. "...your fucking what?" he had an incredulous look on his face, and you'd forgotten that you never actually told the others about it. "soap, you hearin' this?"
soap looked almost panicked when you'd turned to him, but he didn't have time to respond, as that was the moment price had walked through the door and announced the start of the meeting.
"i'll explain after," you whispered to gaz, who gave you a pointed look that said 'you better' and turned his attention back to price. you'd stifled a chuckle and looked back at soap, expecting him to have a similar expression, but he was already facing forward. you'd frowned at this; you and johnny would always whisper back and forth during meetings – a way to keep eachother entertained, as well as an excuse for you to sit close to him – but today his face had an odd air of seriousness to it. oh well, you'd thought somewhat downtrodden, just have to talk to him after.
and that's what led you to the present, where you'd been explaining to the boys everything that has happened over the last two weeks. well, you were mostly telling soap and gaz, ghost honestly didn't seem that interested, though the captain did have a rather amused expression as he listened.
"so you have no idea who it could be?" gaz had turned sideways in his chair, leaning forward slightly with his eyebrows raised. he looked to be in disbelief, and you were almost inclined to feel the same.
"nope, not a clue." you sighed, turning from gaz to look at the others around the table. price was standing with his arms crossed, giving you a similar disbelieving look, and ghost had that familiar unreadable look in his eyes.
"someone went in your room while you were gone?" ghost's low voice caught your attention, "bit creepy, innit," he grumbled, his gaze darting between you and somewhere next to you. he did have a point, you supposed, it was a bit weird.
"well… maybe a little, yeah…" you trailed off. perhaps he had a point, but you found yourself not wanting to believe it; all of the mystery person's gestures had been so sweet, thoughtful, it was hard to think they had any ill intentions.
that, and your heart has already made up its mind about who it should be.
"don't be like that, lt., whoever it is meant well, didn't they?" gaz chuckled, the grin evident in his voice.
"christ…" ghost mutters, shaking his head in exasperation.
"it may be a slight invasion of privacy…" you begin; and it's true, but after the first incident, it didn't appear that anyone had been inside your room again. "but it was only once. and it was just a chocolate bar, it's harmless. besides, are you really telling me you've never been in anyone's room when they're not there?" you continued, earning only an eye roll from ghost.
"and you haven't tried to figure out who it is?" price asks from his position standing opposite you, across the table.
"no, i wouldn't even know where to start, it could be anyone…" you try to think of anyone to suspect, but your optimistic mind only draws one name; the object of your affection, who happened to be sitting directly next to you. unfortunately, the two of you were strictly friends – no matter how much you longed for something more.
"i think you should investigate," gaz's smile makes you think for a moment that he knows something that you don't, but you brush it off. he didn't even know about your admirer until you told him, how could he? it wasn't like they were leaving any hints. "whoever it is obviously really likes you."
"you think?" you unwrap another sweet and pop it into your mouth as you consider his words.
"yeah! and, we could even help you investigate," gaz gives the others a hopeful, if slightly suspicious, smirk.
"speak for yourself…" ghost leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest, the picture of uninterested, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"could be a good bonding exercise," price had the same entertained tone in his voice as he looked between the four of you, "any thoughts, soap?"
you hadn't realised until the captain brought attention to him, but soap had been uncharacteristically quiet during all this; since before the meeting, actually. he hadn't said a word to you yet today, which had you a little worried. usually the two of you couldn't shut up when you were together. you turn to look at him, and find him looking wide-eyed back at price.
"i don't– ah, maybe…" he stuttered, looking between price and the table rather than meeting your concerned eyes, "...they're just shy? don't want to be known yet?"
"oh, y'think, mate?" gaz fully laughed at that, sharing a look with both ghost and price that held something you couldn't understand. now you're thoroughly confused.
"well, maybe he's right," uncertainty laced your voice, their reactions throwing you for a loop. "if they wanted to be known, they probably would've shown themselves by now, right?" you turn to soap, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else – but he meets your gaze with a tiny smile.
"so you're not going to investigate?" you look back at gaz, who has that incredulous look back on his face, and from the corner of your eye you see price and ghost both shake their heads.
"they can show themselves when they're ready, i don't want to push them." your mind was made up; if your secret admirer wanted to reveal their identity, then they would, it's as simple as that.
"but–" gaz tries to argue, but price quickly interrupts him.
"right, enough, you lot, clear out, you've all got work to be getting on with." he gestures for you all to stand, and after grabbing your sweets, you follow the others out of the room.
for the rest of the day, you endured endless amounts of teasing from gaz, and he even got some of the people from other units in on it. it had your face burning when they cooed over how romantic your 'mystery lover' was. you could only pray that they got over it soon, in the back of your mind you were slightly worried the attention might scare off your admirer, and you certainly didn't want that. but although you told the others you'd wait for them to reveal themselves in their own time, you'd be lying if you said you weren't practically dying to know who it was.
✹✹✹
"hey sarge," a voice sounds from beside you, drowning out the din of the mess hall around you. turning your head, you see it's a private; one you don't really know, but you give her a polite smile anyway. "i've got a message for you." she continues, producing a folded piece of paper from behind her back.
"a message? who from?" you ask, taking the paper from her when she holds it out to you.
she giggles, giving you a sly smile, "a secret someone," and with a suspicious wink, she turned around and left.
with the note in your hand, you look to gaz and soap, a baffled expression on your face. "does she mean my… admirer?" they both shrug at you, sharing an equally perplexed look between themselves.
"go on then," gaz says, "what does it say?"
you unfold it, and scan the neat handwriting of the message. soap and gaz watch as you read it, their curiosity overwhelmingly present in the way they leaned forward to try and see.
your face falls, and you frown. the note was signed – 'your secret admirer' – but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in your heart.
"what's up? what does it say?" gaz notices the change in your expression, standing up from his chair and leaning fully over the table to read the note himself. you hand it to him, your good mood from this morning completely soured.
"apparently it is from my admirer," you begin, not bothering to hide the dejection in your voice, "telling me to meet them outside in five minutes."
the pair don't say anything, too stunned to form words as they continue to frown at the words in front of them. this can't be right, it just can't be, your mind laments, if johnny is sitting here, that that means he's not–
"seriously? just like that?" gaz interrupts your thoughts. he sounded annoyed underneath his shock, and you find yourself feeling the same way. "sorry, but i find that hard to believe – they didn't even leave a card with the flowers, did they? it just doesn't feel right to me."
you look to soap, who has yet to say anything on the matter. he doesn't meet your eyes, boring holes into the table with the anger in his gaze. your frown only deepens at his expression, the look on his face so unlike him it almost has you forgetting all about the cause.
"who knows," you sigh, plucking the note back out of gaz's hand. "this probably won't take long, i'll–"
"wait, you're going?" soap interjects, the frown on his face set much deeper than your own. his sudden question caught you off guard, paired with his irritated expression, and you almost thought he was angry with you.
"yeah, i mean, what's the harm, right? might as well just get it over with." you stand as you respond, folding the note back up. even if you were setting yourself up for disappointment, you still wanted to at least hear this person out; even if it wasn't him.
"what's the harm?" johnny scoffs – at you or at very idea of all this you aren't sure – and joins you in standing up, throwing his arms out with such annoyance, it catches you off guard. he gestures sharply at the paper in your hand, "this– whoever that is, it's pure shite! you can't see that?"
now it's you who scoffs at him; where is this hostility coming from? yesterday he seemed as though he couldn't care less when you were telling everyone about it, and now all of a sudden, he thinks he has all the answers?
"how would you know?" you shove the note into your pocket, your earlier sadness quickly morphing into annoyance.
as you move to walk away, johnny looks like he wants to say something more, to stop you, and you hesitate. you want him to; whoever your admirer was, whoever that note was from, none of it meant a thing if it wasn't him. all you wanted was for him to look at you the same way you look at him. gaz is looking at him too, subtly gesturing for him to do something, but he doesn't speak, doesn't meet your eyes as your face drops again.
"exactly, you don't. i'll be back in a minute." you huff, and without another word from either of them, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the mess hall.
it's safe to say your mood had swiftly and effectively been ruined. the disillusionment of realising that your secret admirer was someone other than johnny was one thing, but his sudden attitude towards you was the final straw. your face was decidedly sour as you trudge through the corridors, still with a slight limp which was only fuelling your annoyance for how your day was going. 
the cool air of the courtyard makes your skin bristle as you push the door open, taking a moment to survey the area as you stand in the entryway. to the left stands a lone figure, and you recognise his face, but – like the private from earlier, who you assume is his friend – you can't remember ever having spoken to him. with a deep sigh, you blink away bitterness in your expression and make your way over to him.
his grin is wide as he shamelessly checks you out while you approach, and you instinctually cross your arms over your chest. you come to a stop in front of him, frowning in a look that you hope screams uninterested.
"hey, sarge." he has an overly confident air to him as he speaks, shuffling closer under your scrutinising stare. of course he wouldn't take the hint.
"so it's you, then?" you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion. you just wanted this to be over with, but it seemed luck just wasn't on your side today.
"it's me," he confirms, the blinding grin still plastered to his face as he inches even closer, "you surprised?"
"yeah, actually. i didn't know you were an artist." you reply, voice flat, and you watch him blink once in surprise. you raise a brow at his bewilderment, your patience already wearing painfully thin. he chuckles awkwardly in an attempt to hide how you so obviously caught him off guard.
"ah, yeah i uh–" he stutters, but you cut him off before he can make too much of a fool of himself.
"in fact, i don't actually know you at all. i couldn't recall your name even if you held a gun to my head." the hiss in your voice reveals just how over this whole situation you are. he opens his mouth to spout something else you have no interest in hearing, the sleazy grin falling from his face, but you hold a hand up to silence him. "so i'd really appreciate it if you left me alone."
"but–"
"and stay out of my room, and my locker, too. if it happens again, you're getting reported." you spit the final words at him, and turn on your heel to leave. before you can take another step, he grabs your elbow and spins you back around to face him, causing your ankle to twist awkwardly, which sends a fresh jolt of pain up your leg. you hold back a groan and fix him with a deadly glare instead.
"hey, c'mon, don't be like that!" you wince as he practically demands, getting much closer to you than was necessary, even with you arching backwards to put some space between you. "at least gimme a chance,"
"just leave me alone." you hiss, pulling your arm out of his grip and before he has the chance to do or say anything else, you hurry back the way you came, your limp noticeably more pronounced than earlier. thankfully, the private – jackson, you’d just about been able to read on his jacket – didn’t follow you back to the mess hall, which proves that he has at least half a brain. you hoped that he’d take the hint to stay away from you, but somewhere in the back of your mind you were preparing yourself to be hassled by him in the coming days; he certainly seemed the type.
you were gone less than ten minutes, but in that time most of the lunch crowd had cleared out, leaving the room a lot quieter than it had been. as you shuffle towards soap and gaz, still sitting at the same table, they both turn to look at you, and you can tell by the way both their expressions drop that they sense something is off.
"what happened?" gaz asks as you take your seat across from them, trying to hold back a wince when you put too much strain on your ankle, "your face says it didn't go well."
you sigh, looking between both of them, lingering on soap who’s already watching you with an intensity that has your face heating up. "it didn’t. it was just some private who can’t take no for an answer." you grumble, resting your cheek in the palm of your hand.
"your ankle okay?" soap asks, holding your gaze until you relent and look away first. you want to tell him not to worry, but you find it's impossible to lie to him, not when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the room. "what happened?" he presses, his voice taking on a dangerous tone.
"its nothing, he just– i just twisted it a little." you trip over your words under his stare, looking to gaz for help, but you find that he has a similar – albeit less intense – look of concern on his face. the silence hangs between you for a moment as you wordlessly try to convince them, but they see through you. "alright, fine. when i was leaving, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, and i pulled my ankle."
if johnny had been pissed before, he was furious now; his eyes were dark underneath his furrowed brow, his lips turned down in a frown that looked more like a snarl. to see someone usually so easygoing with such a threatening look on his face was almost worrying, the only reassurance being that you know it's not directed at you.
"that prick… who was it?" gaz isn't nearly as affected as soap, but he's clearly annoyed by the audacity of the private. you shake your head, urging them to just let it go; he wasn't worth the trouble, after all.
when johnny says your name in that deep, gravelly tone, your heart skips a beat and your eyes snap to meet his. "who was it." he asks, but it's not a question anymore, and every fibre of your being is telling you to just give in to him.
"jackson. i don't know his first name…" you mutter, slightly flustered by the way he's acting. the tension in the silence that follows is nearly suffocating. from where his arms rest on the table, you notice johnny repeatedly clenching his fists, seemingly having some sort of internal battle with himself.
"what a bellend…" gaz grumbles, pausing for a moment to shake the disgust from his face. "so, what about the whole 'secret admirer' thing then?" he leans back in his chair, eyes darting to soap's profile then back to you.
"i don't know…" you sigh, "didn't really seem like something he was capable of, but i guess i don't really know him, so–"
"yeah, he doesn't seem the type, does he?" gaz interjects, with a newfound energy at your words. you narrow you eyes, sensing an ulterior motive, but let him continue. "i mean, buying you flowers, sweets– seems a bit too thoughtful for such a twat."
his jab coaxed a laugh from you, "maybe; i guess i was pretty disappointed when i saw it was him, though."
"oh yeah? expecting someone else, were you?" gaz has a grin on his face, one that has you worried that he's clocked on to your true feelings.
"something like that…" you clear your throat, suddenly feeling a little too seen for your liking. "anyway, i'd better get going, desk duty is no joke," you slowly stand up, making sure to be careful of your newly irritated ankle, and adamantly avoiding eye contact with either of them.
"yeah, me too, cap said he needs my help with something." gaz stands as well, giving soap a pat on the back and a suspicious wink as he walks off, which you willfully choose to ignore.
"you gonna be okay?" johnny comes to your side as you shuffle around the table, his hand brushing over your back to support you. butterflies begin to flutter at the feeling, and you scold yourself for being so easily affected. he seems to have calmed down a lot, the anger from earlier overtaken by his concern.
"yeah, i'll be fine, i think i'll just have to grab my crutch," you smile at him and take a step forward, wincing as you shift your weight from one foot to the other.
"c'mon, lemme help you," he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his worry evident within them. his hand is warm on your back, you have to hold yourself back from leaning into him. "cannae have you hurtin' yourself any more."
"you sure? don't you have work to do too?" you have every intention of taking him up on his offer, but you couldn't help feeling guilty for needing his help like this.
"i'm sure lt. can survive a few extra minutes," johnny gives you a reassuring smile, already ushering you out of the mess hall.
"well, don't blame me when has your head," you grin back at him, relishing in the comfortable feeling of being so close to him. distracted by his proximity, you momentarily forget about your injury and without thinking, you put too much weight on it as you take a step. with a pained gasp, you wobble on your good foot and pause to give your ankle a break.
johnny moves his arm to sit securely around your waist, gently pulling you to lean fully against him. "you sure you don't want me to take you to the infirmary?" he asks, lifting your arm to wrap around his shoulders.
"no, no– they're just gonna tell me to rest, and i'll be sitting down all day anyway," you move to continue on your way to your room, but he stays put. 
"you should still get it looked at, might be–"
"johnny." you stop him with a hand on his chest, "i'm okay."
you watch his adams apple bob as he gulps, his eyes flickering to where your hand is touching him and back up to your own, almost too fast to notice.
"right, right. sorry." he dips his head, breaking eye contact. you pull him gently, and the two of you start walking again. "you know jackson well?"
you scoff, frowning as you recall the events of earlier. "what? no, before today i didn't even know his name. he seems like kind of an arsehole, to be honest."
"really? made that bad of an impression, eh?" his lopsided smile feels oddly smug, but you decide not to overthink it.
"like i said, can't take a no." you grumble, pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, "i doubt this is the last time i'll have to deal with him…"
"he's not gonna bother you." johnny states, with a finality that is as stunning as it is comforting.
"...if you say so." you don't press any further, wanting to simply move on and forget about the whole thing. you'd gladly never think about that arrogant private again.
before you know it, the two of you are standing in the hall outside your room. his grip around your waist loosens as you push open the door, and you're all too aware of the cold feeling left behind as he lets go.
"thank you, for helping me." you shoot him a grateful smile, grabbing your crutch from where it leant against the wall, propping it under your arm.
"course," johnny pauses, looking past you to something in your room. "you… kept the gardenias?" he asks, his voice quiet, almost disbelieving. you tilt your head, a silent question, but he's still staring at the flowers.
"yeah, they're…" you begin, but his words have you pausing too; he didn't seem like the kind of person to be interested in floristry, you'd certainly never heard him say anything about it before. but somehow, he'd identified the flowers on your end table with no problem. "...they're nice. i like them, even if they do look a little sad now."
when he finally meets your eyes again, there's a distinct redness to his face that wasn't there before, and you feel your heart beginning to race with renewed hope. it could be that he just likes flowers, but if he already knew they were gardenias, maybe he…
"right, i, uh– i should get going, or ghost might actually kill me." johnny's voice had a dazed quality to it when he spoke.
"alright, i'll see you later then," you give him a small smile as you step back into the hall next to him. the two of you look at each other for a moment before you speak again, holding back a laugh, "you gonna go, or just stand there all day?"
your words seem to snap him out of the trance he’d been in, and he shakes his head in an almost comical manner, "right! right, sorry, bye!" he sputters, waving over his shoulder as he jogs away. you chuckle to yourself as he goes, and start walking the opposite direction to get started with your own work.
✹✹✹
you didn't see soap again until the next day, considering that he was strangely absent from mealtimes both last night and today. thankfully the incident from the day before hadn't done any further damage to your ankle, so you were up and about without the need for your crutch after a good night's rest.
you'd just dropped off a folder of paperwork in price's office – which you'd completed in fairly good time, thanks to being stuck behind a desk for nearly two weeks – but as you descend the staircase, you're almost knocked over by someone flying around the corner. you caught yourself with a hand on the railing, blinking away your surprise and glaring at whoever had carelessly bumped into you.
much to your chagrin, it was jackson, and you feel your face naturally falling into a frown at the realisation. you’d been expecting him to try and change your mind about yesterday, but true to johnny’s words, he had yet to bother you about it; actually, you hadn’t seen him at all since then, not even at breakfast or lunch, but it's not as if you were complaining. 
though, as you stare down at him from the step above, you notice a deep purple bruise decorating his cheekbone that definitely wasn’t there yesterday. your frown turns from malice to confusion as you wonder how he could have gotten it in the span of less than a day, it looked like he’d taken a serious punch. you couldn’t say you felt bad for him, but it did look painful.
"listen, about yesterday… i- i lied,." jackson mutters, eyes glued to the floor to avoid your own. he was shuffling in place, as if he was preparing to bolt at any second. your eyes narrow as you process his words.
"what?"
he clears his throat. "i lied. it wasn’t me, i just said it was because one of the guys bet me i couldn’t get you to go out with me." he admits. the way he keeps avoiding your eyes, glancing around like he was waiting for someone to jump out at him has you a little suspicious, but your heart still soars when you realise what he means.
jackson wasn't your secret admirer, so your hopeless romantic heart could still dream that it was johnny. the flutter of butterflies even distracts you from the insulting notion that he only wanted to go out with you for a bet.
"seriously?" you ask, your shock evident in your voice as you stare him down. finally his eyes land on your own, an embarrassed grimace overtaking his nervous expression. it's a stark, satisfying difference to his arrogant overconfidence from before.
"yeah. i’m sorry, okay? i don’t want any trouble, it was just–" he cuts himself off, but when you give him a questioning look, he can't tear his eyes from the space behind you, and only mumbles what sounds like a ‘sorry’ before scurrying off back the way he came. you watch him go, thoroughly confused by the whole interaction, but not a moment later a voice from where he was staring brings you out of your thoughts.
"y’alright? little shit wasn’t botherin’ you, was he?" soap's voice cuts through the quiet, and you turn to see him descending the stairs to stand next to you.
you shake your head, "no, no, he just–" you hesitate, your mind going back to yesterday and the gardenias. "he lied, it wasn't him."
"really?" he asks, but his voice doesn't sound surprised at all. you're not sure if you imagined it, but for a moment his expression changes into something like satisfaction.
"yeah, he was about to say something else too, but he just ran off," you sigh, walking down the last few steps. soap follows close behind, a hand hovering near your back. "did you see that bruise on his face? wonder how he got it…"
"looked nasty, eh?" a laugh escapes him, and you admire the way his lips curve, the creases around his eyes as his smile reaches them. "maybe he finally got what was comin' to him."
his face was close to yours, a lot closer than you could reasonably handle without losing your nerve and making a fool of yourself. realising you had yet to respond, you clear your throat and start walking down the corridor, your eyes to the floor and a burning in your cheeks.
"if he never speaks to me again, it'll still be too soon…" you grumble, willing your heart to calm down as he comes up next to you in a few long strides. "anyway, what have you been up to? i haven't seen you all day." with a quick glance, you see the easy smile he has falter slightly.
"i was, ah–" he avoids your eye as he stops himself, a beat of silence passes before he continues "nevermind, i– i was… looking for you." your heart skips a beat, but you scold it for being so eager; the two of you were teammates, friends, he could be looking for you for any number of reasons.
"looking for me? what's up?" you turn your head to face him as you walk, a curious tilt to your brow.
johnny comes to a stop, and so do you a moment after. he looks at you, fidgety and shifting on his feet, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. the look on his face is unsure, uncomfortable, like he was debating running off like jackson had done a minute ago.
he's nervous, that much you can tell. but despite the slightly awkward tension, you you wait for whatever it is he's struggling to say.
"i… uh– y'know what, i actually forgot." johnny hangs his head, pulling his hands from his pockets and scratching the back of his neck.
at his words your heart sinks, and you can't help the disappointed look that takes over your expression. "oh? are you–"
before you can finish, he drops a hand on your shoulder and steps ahead of you, turning around so you're face to face. "listen, ghost is waiting for me, so i gotta run," he smiles again, but it's weaker this time, almost forced as it doesn't quite meet his eyes.
"right… better not keep him waiting."
"right," his reply is short, and the tension between you only grows every moment he avoids your eyes. "i'll see you later though, promise." he flashes you another false smile, gently patting your shoulder, before turning on his heel and swiftly escaping down the corridor.
"bye, johnny." you release a sigh, from longing or exasperation you're not sure, watching his form disappear through the doors.
✹✹✹
despite his promise, once again you don't see soap for the rest of the day. at dinner you'd questioned ghost on his whereabouts, but he only told you that he had no idea either. this time however, you got the strong feeling he was lying to you.
still though, you couldn't find it within yourself to be annoyed with him. you could see clear as day that something was going on with johnny, and if he didn't want to confide in you about whatever it is, then you certainly won't be the one to push him.
having finished today's obligations, you decided to head straight to your room once you'd finished eating. you open your door, a sigh escaping you as you prepare to collapse for the night, and stop dead in your tracks.
a folded sheet of paper lays in front of you, standing out against the emptiness of your floor, crumpled like it had been screwed up and flattened out again. a sense of déjà vù overcomes you, for last week, when you'd received the sketches of yourself in the same way. for a moment all you can do is stand there, staring at the paper, processing.
eventually, you do step into your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and picking the paper up from the floor. you keep it folded until you're sitting on the edge of your mattress, hands shaking ever so slightly with the anticipation.
you're not sure what to think, as you sit burning holes in the paper with your stare. after yesterday, you thought you were done with the idea of your secret admirer; but then again, jackson had admitted to you earlier that he'd lied when he met you yesterday, and the whole reason you weren't as interested after that was because your pipe dream of the mystery person being johnny had been shattered. but now that the identity of your admirer was once again a mystery, you couldn't help but want to dream like that again. 
with a defeated groan, you decide to just rip off the bandaid and read the note. you unfold it, immediately noticing the scratchy handwriting – the opposite of the note jackson gave you, so thankfully it couldn't be from him.
you hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes scan the words in front of you.
i stayed up all night trying to write this note, but nothing i came up with felt good enough, so i'm just going to say it. i'm your secret admirer. i know you probably won't believe me after that bastard yesterday, but i need you to know anyway. i used to think that love just wasn't my thing, that i'd never find someone i wanted to spend my life with, but that changed when i met you. i didn’t realise it at first, but it's always been you. you're my person, and i can't hide it anymore. i love you. maybe i'm a coward for giving you a note instead of telling you face to face. but if you don't feel the same, you can throw it away, or burn it or something, and i'll never bring it up again. your heart, johnny
the silence in your room borders on deafening as you sit completely still, reeling from what you'd just read. you didn't realise you'd stopped breathing until you release a shaky breath.
all this time, it was johnny.
every longing glance, every touch that lingered just a little too long, the racing pulse every time he says your name; it was all reciprocated.
every time you thought you could never have him as anything more than your best friend, you were wrong.
he cared enough to leave you a pick-me-up after a hard mission, buy you flowers when you got injured, draw you the way he saw you, gift you things he took the time to notice you like.
all this time… he'd felt the exact same way you do.
you set the note down next to you, bringing a shaky hand up to cover your mouth that had fallen open in shock. there was only one thing to do, in your mind, and that was to run into johnny's arms and make up for all the lost time you've spent pining over him.
in seemingly no time at all, you find yourself standing at johnny's door, your fist poised to knock. theres a moment of hesitation, but before your apprehension can cloud your mind, you let your knuckles rap on the wood once, twice, three times, and take a step back as you wait for a response. after a second or two – which felt a lot longer than it actually was – you hear the sounds of footsteps from inside.
another moment passes, and you assume johnny is standing on the other side with his heart in his throat just like you, short-lived before he finally swings the door open.
he looks at you, eyes wide and like a deer caught in headlights, the way he holds himself uncharacteristically shy as you stare each other down.
"the note," you finally murmur, and johnny almost flinches, clearly fighting the urge to look away from you. "tell me you meant it." you continue, taking a miniscule step closer to him. you hear his breath catch in his chest.
"every word." he whispers, gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes again, and your heart misses a beat.
with no hesitation this time, you hook your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, crushing his mouth against yours in a desperate kiss that's as much teeth as it is lips.
johnny groans into your mouth, his hands flying to your waist as he turns and walks you backwards into his room. the door gets kicked shut behind him once he's got you inside, neither of you breaking apart more than enough to draw a single ragged breath before meeting in the middle again. with another needy whine into you he pushes you up against the wall, caging you in with his broad shoulders and his arms around your waist.
the weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his stubble prickly against your face, the softness of his lips against yours; it's everything you've been waiting for, and now you finally have him, he tastes sweeter than you could've ever imagined.
the two of you stay like that for moments that feel like hours in each other's embrace, only pulling away when your lungs are burning and your lips are swollen. leaning your head back against the wall, his eyes meet yours with such adoration it sends your heart fluttering all over again.
"i'll take that as a good sign," he mumbles, a lopsided grin lifting his features. his joy is so infectious you can't help but mirror his expression as you drop your head to rest on his shoulder.
his chest rumbles with an airy, disbelieving laugh and he tugs you impossibly closer, resting his cheek against the side of your head. standing chest to chest now, you can feel the hammering of his heart against yours and the way his skin burns under your touch.
"you’re my person too," you murmur into him, one of your hands moving up to tangle in the strands of his mohawk, "always have been."
johnny's arms wind tighter around you as he releases a deep, content sigh. he's hugged you countless times before but somehow, this feels different while still staying exactly the same. the heat radiating from him is soothing like it always has been, the knowledge that your feelings are reciprocated only making it that much sweeter.
"why'd it take us so long, eh?" he utters, tender and loving in the way he runs his hands over your back and sides.
"we're just idiots…" you reply, "gaz is gonna have a field day with this."
johnny laughs again, pressing his lips to the side of your head so you can feel his smile. "oh, he clocked us a long time ago, bonnie."
you can't help but groan as you imagine how gaz will tease the both of you for how oblivious you've both been.
he lifts you up by his grip around your waist, carrying you over to his bed and flopping down onto his back with you on his chest. a satisfied groan escapes him as he settles, burying his face into your hair and inhaling a deep breath.
you're enveloped by the scent of him – gunpowder, and the faint smell of something burnt, but it's pleasant and familiar nonetheless.
"yer stayin' with me tonight, non negotiable." he murmurs, running a hand up and down the length of your spine.
"fine by me." you tilt your head up to meet his eyes, and find them already locked on you. "so, about jackson…"
johnny scoffs, lightheartedly frowning in response. "yer gonna bring his name up while yer in my bed?"
"he looked really spooked when he saw you earlier," you begin, smoothing your hand over his chest. his eyes widen at your words, his hand freezing as he looks away from you with a distinctly guilty expression on his face. you narrow your eyes, holding back the amused smirk pulling at your lips. "johnny… did you…"
he clears his throat, and by the way he can't hold your gaze for more than a second you can tell he knows he's been caught. there's no stopping the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at his reaction.
"...i may have, uh– potentially put some fear o'god into the little bawbag…"
"soap!"
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organicxslime · 7 months
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☆how they bagged you (gojo, geto, nanami, toji)☆
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「GOJO」 wriggled his way into your heart with the power of sweets. He figured out pretty early on that you had a sweet tooth as rotten as he did, so he used it to his advantage, inviting you to try out new cafes and bakeries that cropped up in cities where he was going on missions. Each time you'd accompany him to one of these establishments, he'd promptly show off, flashing a platinum bank card that sounded an expensive, metallic clang as he tossed it on the counter, buying quite literally every single dessert you had your eye on with no regard for the cost. He's fairly certain he accidentally spent $400 in a single bakery once. He finally bagged you by taking you to an upscale cafe and having the waitress bring out the fluffiest, most intricately decorated cake they could possibly produce, looping cursive on the top spelling out “will you be my girlfriend?"
(In all honesty, you don't have enough room in your stomach for the sheer amount of sweets that he buys you, but his students certainly enjoy it when you slip them whatever mountain of dessert you have left over.)
「GETO」 gently coaxes you into loving him with his sweet, quiet voice and honeyed words. He noticed within a few weeks of meeting you that you seemed to stand at rapt attention whenever he spoke, and it didn’t take a genius to know that you liked his voice. It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced something like this - there had been others before who complimented his voice, saying he had a soft, kind tone that was pleasant to listen to - and he knew he could use it to his advantage. He intentionally makes himself sound quieter and more agreeable when he speaks to you, lovingly praising you and complimenting you for the smallest of things. you can’t help but swoon each time he greets you in that lyrical tone, and when he finally asks you on a date , you melt at how hopeful and sweet his voice sounds.
(later, when that same voice is murmuring filthy things into your ear, you’ll be silently reaffirming to yourself that he was absolutely the right choice.)
「NANAMI」 won you over by being the perfect gentleman. He's not one for dirty tricks or flashy displays of affection - he finds these things repulsive. No, he's going to take a much more classic route with it. It starts with little things - a shared smile here and there, complimenting you often, and making sure to stop by and greet vou everv morning at work. From there, he'll graduate to more direct methods, like inviting you to dinner and remembering your exact coffee order to surprise vou with the next morning. As your bond grows, so do his advances, and he finds himself arriving to work an hour early to slip sweet hand-written notes into our desk. Eventually he surprises you with a bouquet of red roses, chastely asking you out on a date, and you're so smitten you can't imagine a world where you would say no.
(You like his methods, but in all fairness he could have taken you on a date to a 7/11 and you still would've been drooling over him afterwards. For the sake of your standards, though, the romantic gestures were entirely necessary.)
「TOJI」 snaked his way into your heart by shamelessly using his body. You were gym buddies, and he had noticed before how your eyes lingered on his body, watching beads of sweat roll off of his glistening pecs and paying particularly close attention to the way his back flexed when he would lift. He began teasing you, making you sit on his toned back as he did pushups, giving you a front row seat to every contraction of his rolling muscles. He'd have you help him tape up for support, too - smoothing the athletic tape over his thick legs and reaching around his basketball-sized biceps to bind up his elbows drove you absolutely wild. At one point, you're pressing his feet to the floor while he does sit-ups, and all of a sudden he leans up further than ever before, leaning into your face and catching you by the lips. Amused, you ask him what that was for, and he says he'll explain himself - but only if you'll let him take you out to dinner.
(You knew damn well what he was up to - but you're just as depraved as he is, and knew a solid opportunity to feel up on a buff man when you saw it. You're so down bad you didn't even care that he asked you to pay for dinner.)
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wannaeatramyeon · 1 month
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Seongji Yuk x Reader: Treats
G/N. Meeting Seongji for the first time.
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"Your teeth are gonna fall out."
The monster of the mountain looks at you, face blank though eyes amused, tanghulu hanging from his mouth.
You've seen him enough times to know there's not much monstrous about him, apart from his overwhelming sweet tooth.
Rumours of this monster were grossly exaggerated.
Maybe you should have had more self preservation than to wander the mountainside when such tales persist. Yet when you found out the monster was a mere man, a mere boy close to your age, who seemed to have a penchant for sugary, syrup covered fruit-
You realised the only thing to fear was cavities and tooth decay.
Still. It helps to have someone with such a reputation on your side, you decide as you toss over a pack of fruit gummies.
A hand shoots out and swiftly catches it.
(Six. You swore you saw six fingers on that hand.)
"Thought you might like these," you shrug as he gives you an odd look, "See ya!"
.
.
After the fifth pack of candies you threw at him, the guilt sets in.
You make your way through now familiar half hidden paths, searching for the monster.
He's there. Sitting in front of his giant wok, surrounded by freshly made tanghulu. Scents of sugar and caramel fill the air.
"You're here again," The words are spoken so quietly you almost missed them. His voice is softer than you expected.
"I bought you more things," you hold out a small plastic bag. He gives you the same look each time. 
"Open it," you encourage, shoving it more forcefully in his direction.
With little trust - which is somewhat unfair, you think, considering all the treats he has received from you - he takes the bag.
(Six. You know you saw six fingers on that hand.)
He opens it, peers in, face clouded with caution. Then-
Eyebrows shooting into his hairline, eyes widening almost comically, mouth forming an 'o'-
The tension breaks and he chuckles.
"It's one thing if all the tanghulu you eat rots your teeth, that's your own fault," You rub the back of your head self-consciously as he pulls out more fruit candies, as well as a new toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash one after the other. "But if it's because of me then..."
"You're strange," he says, staring at you like you're a puzzle he can't quite figure out.
His words have no bite.
.
.
"Seongji Yuk," he eventually provides his name with reluctance. In exchange, you provide the rest of the banchan and rice to accompany his homemade kimchi.
(Your single braincell stopped functioning the first time you realised he does in fact eat something besides sugar.
It's endearing, this supposed 'monster' making his own tanghulu, making his own kimchi.
You kept comparing his recipe with your own before eventually he asked you to leave out of exasperation.)
"Well Seongji, your kimchi needs more saeujeot," It's not bad, it's just missing something.
"You don't have to eat it," he grumbles, swallowing down an extra big mouthful.
.
.
"So..."  You stall, elongating the word, letting it drift into the night. You don't really know Seongji well, hell you don't know him at all. Maybe it would be intrusive to ask.
You hear a rustling beside you. "So what?"
"So… you live on this mountain?"
"I do."
"Huh." You gaze out at the stars. It's a pretty peaceful existence, or it would be if not for Cheonliang. "On your own?"
"Yes."
"Do you ever get lonely?"
A beat. Then - "No."
Oh.
You turn to him and see his face blank but eyes amused. Messy hair and high cheekbones highlighted by the fire.
"Well I can visit you if I get lonely then."
There's a huff of laughter. Seongji knows he can't stop you anyway. He turns back toward the vast inky sky. Takes in the scattered stars. Feels the heat from the flames, a heat that settles into his cheeks.
A smile dances on his lips when he tells you "Okay."
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diorcities · 25 days
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stargazing
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♡ pairing: haechan x afab!reader. ♡ genre: tooth-rotting fluff. ♡ content: sleepy hyuck, kisses. ♡ wc: 0.5k ♡ an: not proofread (: small fluff version excerpt of a couple of drabbles in my drafts, from prompt #3 on @nctpromptmeme (send more their way) happy reading <33
your scent was everywhere. on his pillow, in the sheets, in the space of the bedroom, in every corner of his apartment; in the safe and warm space of his heart; between dreams, he smiles.
the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek accompanied by the gentle beating of his heart made the same sedative effect of melatonin; hushed breathing and feather-light touches at midnight. you could seriously watch him sleep for eternity. battling the sleep that closes your eyes and numbs your muscles —your fingers, drawing lines that connect his moles.
his lips in a pout are slowly kissed. imprinting the love and fond you feel, too heavy to carry on your own. his full cheeks. his jaw. the visible extension of his neck. everything is touched by you. only you. like cardinal points that you know by heart, by inertia. and you want to be as effusive as you can, and also as careful and caring. kisses as soft and light as feathers, as tender and gentle as you can be, as deep and immense as outer space.
where do you put all this feeling if not in him? hoping that he will want to take care of it. your eyelids grow heavier with thoughts swirling and turning to stardust. you're just about to give in, closer to the moon, eyes closing with the image of his serene face sleeping when his heart picks up pace.
“can't sleep?” his voice sounds distorted by sleep.
you hum in denial. “no.” you can't. not when you're full of love.
he brings you closer to him; it's impossible. his lips rest on your forehead and his hand caresses your back. you let his warmth envelop your body and suddenly you realize that you're made of liquid tenderness and longing. “did i wake you up?” you wonder guiltily.
his head shakes, “what were you doing?” he adds then, slurring his words.
loving. admiring. wondering. stargazing. “nothing.”
his lips drift from your forehead to meet yours. haechan kisses you, love-filled kisses each fading away as he falls asleep. his breathing more rhythmically, making purring sounds as sleep begins to gain ground, and he ultimately murmurs, “keep doing it.”
“what thing?” you whisper quietly.
an hourglass later, and a complicity, “nothing.”
his lips curl into a slight smile when he hears you hum, slowly erasing from his mouth until he falls asleep imprisoning you with his body, peacefully, quietly, fully. your fingers comb his hair away from his face and barely any light comes through the heavy curtains of his room, and even then, you don't have to see to know; you know his moles by heart.
you love him. as deep as the ocean.
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sovenusian · 1 month
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Matured Energy of Each Sun Sign
(does not to relate to what age you are.)
A matured Aries is a master communicator and story teller, they can easily pull and hold the attention of the crowd on them, only this time it is to shine light on something beyond them, and it's usually the wisdom they have gathered on their spiritual journey of having the self as the center of their wants and needs.
A matured Taurus is the tamed bull. They become much more calm and understanding of ways of life and mindsets differing from their own, and don't feel the need to make known, how thorough their stances on their beliefs are. They loosen up a bit, like a Cane Corso allowing a rambunctious chihuahua to feign dominance.
A matured Gemini uses the seemingly fractured personality to create genius works and can masterfully connect with any age group or walk of life. They respect they are the embodiment of "I have an idea" but on drugs (lol) and live in that truth. They don't provide tolerance for what they do not like around them.
A matured Cancer stopped being petty and stops wading in the murky waters of emotional manipulation, and starts wielding these energies as gift, for others. You may not find a more generous, selfless, nurturing being. They have the strength to grow other people and bring what's dead back to life.
A matured Leo finally takes more pride in the impact of it's works, more than the ability to do them or be recognized for being the one to do them. They enjoy showing the character traits that truly make them beautiful. The humility they acquire despite having achieved a great deal of refinement, is what becomes what makes them shine at their brightest.
A matured Virgo learned to put themselves, their hearts truly first. Their dutiful and ambitious drives have taught them their accompanying lessons, which are to allow yourself to relax, you are enough, you really are so damn dope, and comparing your output to the logistics was a stressful way to live and that is, the past. It's a death to criticism and a birth to healthy analyzation.
A matured Libra has learned how to be in love with love, in a healthy way. In love with Real Love; with the raw energy and authenticity of it's energy, that way when humans and opportunities come around that claim to be Love, they can be distinguishing and keep their own heart set on what they have learned to be it's truth. They have mastered detachment.
A matured Scorpio has adjusted their perspective, placing the abilities of being extremely passionate and emotionally intense, only in situations that don't create more chaos. Their lifelong journey for true power has moved them into a space where they are more settled and accomplished. They learn the rhythm of life and can finally become selfless, and this is where their energy is truly it's most powerful.
A matured Sagittarius is the ember stage of fire; warm, spreading and long lasting. The knowledge and philosophies acquired over the years are now steeped, grounded in substance and embedded in a person that can finally sit down long enough, and have the patience, to share it's inspirations. Their habit to be generous and spreading have switched out it's impulsive nature for selectivity and self- preservation.
A matured Capricorn drops the shrewdness, and can be an exemplified patriot of what they stood for when they initially started their ambitious climb of hard earned success. They realize just because they are the goats, does not mean anybody and everything are the rocks and steps to ascend upon, and they warm their heart up enough to trust others with their vulnerabilities. They retire their need to be serious for the upholding of the many responsibilities all Capricorns are dealt, and they let that beautiful ability to entertain and bring joy be what they now lead and corale others with.
A matured Aquarius honors the unbeaten path they chose and created by tooth and nail, by sharing with others the lessons learned from it. Their ability to be friendly and connect with anyone, becomes more filled out, & it becomes harder for them to be perceived as disingenuous, because they can now choose the role they'll play in the life of every individual they meet, and share the gems needed like the sages they were born to be. They feel the freedom to become even more obscure.
A matured Pisces is a vessel of universal love. They spend their lives being a collage of all the human personality could offer, from kind to cruel, yielding to stubborn, and they take each lesson from their colorful experiences, and only extract the most optimistic, high frequency wisdom from them. They keep their mystery while their ability to impart love to others unfolds endlessly.
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