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#i doodled this with my finger on my phone notes app while i waited for my hair dye to take at the hair salon
casdeans-pie · 11 months
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Regular Vision vs Dean Vision
Early seasons Cas and your messy hair you were iconic
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shidouryusm · 3 years
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Birthday Treats
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Pairing: Bokuto x reader
Genre: angst, fluff, reverse comfort
Warning: Some suggestive implication at the end, little angsty, Bokuto comforts reader, little implication of being a bad s/o, crying
Word count: 1.4K
A/N: Happy Birthday to my dearest husband from haikyuu. He is the man I fell head over heels and am still in love with him neck deep. My comfort character and my literal beam. Love his phat ass and tiddies way too much.
A/N 2: Hope you enjoy my birthday tribute. I FELT SO BAD WHEN I MISSED HIS BIRTHDAY AT FIRST. I WAS TOO MUCH OCCUPIED WITH WORK TODAY TO REALISE I FORGOT HIS BIRTHDAY.
A/N 3: Any kind of constructive criticism would be appreciated. Like and reblog this fic.Thank you in advance all lovely people.
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You had woken up at the crack of dawn. The sun was surfacing just above the horizon. Its orange warmth enhanced the shred of grey and blue clouds. You sprauchled across the room, sleep slouched but mind buzzing with worries and the work that you have to finish by today.
You reach over to the other end of bed. The sleeping figure of the dual colored hair man held too much endearment to miss. You placed a hand softly over his bare chest, as you took in his sleeping features. His little smile that he never misses while he is asleep. The serene countenance that he has now is usually masked by his boisterous nature. Sleeping Bokuto is a treat for the eyes and you thank the lucky stars to see this in person, that too every day. You kissed his nose, his closed eyes, his forehead and lastly a small peck over his tight lipped smile.
You sighed in tiredness as you turned over and headed to shower. A whole list of works waiting. You left the house with a small note of “I love you” over his breakfast plate, followed by a owl doodle that he always loves seeing on his plate.
The day rolled over to afternoon as you attended meetings, finished your first shift and supervised your juniors about upcoming work. All the while, feeling restless as if you forgot something at home. You even had double checked your purse twice due to this. It wasn’t until lunchtime that you realized what was amiss.
You were scrolling through your phone mindlessly as you ate your lunch, getting a relief from the pile and checklists of works that you had to finish. You saw the text that you had sent to Bokuto as you left,
“Hey baby, leaving for work early. Didn’t wanna wake you up. You were looking cute asf. Need to finish the excessive ass work so might be late. Bye and Love you. Also pls finish the breakfast well and donot forget the shake.
P.S- DW I had given you kisses while you were asleep :3. LOVE YOU”
He had replied with his usual cheerful state,
“HEY HEY HEY BABY OWL. It’s oki. Take care of yourself and LOVE YOU EVEN MORE. I HAD TAKEN THE OWL DRAWING WITH ME. IT WAS TOO CUTE. COME HOME SAFE. I LOVE YOU AGAIN.”
You smiled at his text. But the more you looked at the text, the more discomfort you felt. You looked at the text for few more moments before the epiphany crashed over you like icy storm.
You scrambled through the apps of your phone before going to the calendar and seeing the date. Dread would be an understatement to express the face that you just made. Your eyes seemed to pop out of socket as it locked with the date of 20th September…adorned with emojis and kisses and a little note saying, ‘BABY’S BDAY’. Guilt pooled in like a broken dam inside you. A punch in the gut as you forgot his birthday. The day you were anticipating of more than just a month. You remembered all the conversations that you had with him regarding his birthday,
“…and a large chocolate cake” you prompt. His head on your lap as you run your fingers over them.
“Along with barbecue and veggies as well. All kinds of meat would be good, right Y/N?” Bokuto’s eyes lit up as he spoke. You excitedly nodded to his suggestion.
“...also Kou, we can invite Kuroo, Tsumu, Kiyoomi and the entire MSBY along with Fukorodani, what say?”…
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you see half the day being over. You go to Instagram as you see a video Atsumu posted as they all surprised him with a large cake and excited hollers and chorus of “Happy Birthday”. You see Bokuto as he looks so happy and exuberant. You smile involuntarily as you see his ear to ear grin at this surprise. Hundreds of devoted fans commented, wishing him and proclaiming their best wishes. Only his s/o forgot his birthday.
You hurriedly skim through your to do work list. Seeing half the work being done, you pack up your stuff and leave the office, explaining and leaving the rest of the work to your team.
You stop by the store, buying all the things that you need and head home.
Seeing as the sun hasn’t set down yet and there is enough time for his practice to end, you plan a short celebration that awaits him now.
It was evening when you finish all the preparations and drove to his gym. They were almost lacking up by the time you had reached. Perfect!
You spot Bokuto from afar. His soft smile etched on his face as he talks with Meian. You stand at the threshold of the gym entrance, feeling nervous and hesitant all of a sudden. Tsumu notices you as he nudges Bokuto. The amber round eyes met yours and he sprints towards you in a flash. Stopping in front of you as he sees you fidgeting awkwardly. Confusion dawns on his face.
“Y/N…baby. Weren’t you supposed to stay late for work? Also why is your face so pale, babe? Are you doing good? Is your health okay?” he anxiously put a hand over your forehead as he acknowledges his own question.
Upon his touch, you couldn’t hold it any longer as you pounced in his embrace. Tears that were alarmingly at bay cascaded down your cheeks.
“Babyy…I’m-I’m so sorry baby. I forgot your birthday fully. I swear I didn’t mean to…I was in so much stress. I forgot the date. I-I-I am…”
“Hey hey…shush…baby…hey its okay. Baby, come here…my baby owl” Bokuto secures you in his strong arms, comforting you.
Surely he did ponder that why didn’t you wish him or something…but he soon realized the overwork you have been facing for a few days. The nights where you combed his hair and analyse data in bed. The late night work schedule. But none of this mattered to him more than the fact that you always appreciate and acknowledge him, even in the busiest of days. Your presence and care being his No.1 gift. He rubs your back as he hides himself in the crook of your neck. Lifting you from the ground. He kisses your neck, your hair, the side of your head.
“Baby owl...hey look at me, pretty. Hey...there you are. Listen…its okay. No buts…it is absolutely fine. You had excessive stress for the past few days and the way you were handling that and our home together is fabulous babe. And that is my gift. My forever gift that I will cherish for the rest of my lives. Besides, you gave me morning kisses, right? Consider that as my gift from you”
Bokuto rests his forehead against yours as he traces his fingers on your waist. You regain your composure as he wipes away your tears and kisses your cheeks. You tug him outside towards the car before bading everone goodbyes.
You drove the car all the way to a small hill. The hillside consisting light posts and reflection of the ever blinding city.
Bokuto, unaware of his surrounding happenings followed suit. You unlock the boot of your car and take out the small grill and box of meat. Arranging everything, you see Bokuto just seeing everything in awed expression.
“I know we planned for a grand barbecue but thanks to my utmost forgetfulness, we have this now. This is the least I can do for you, Kou” you sheepishly said. Bokuto sheaths you in a bear hug again as he now places his lips over your. Both of your lips dancing in rhythm and heartbeats synching with each other.
“That is the best thing you can do for me, baby owl. I am ever so lucky to have you” You laugh at his hyperbole sentence which was nothing but true.
Bringing out the small cake that you had baked, you guys sit together on the bonnet of the car, talking about everything and nothing. The sizzle of the barbecue with the buzz of moths and the smooth rustle of breeze…all added with the beauty and simplicity of the scenario. You rest your head on his shoulders as you whisper I love yous and sweet nothings. He encircles his hand in your waist and pulls you closer. His remnant sweaty body and cologne hitting your nose. You kiss up along his jaws as he bents down and sweetly nips at your skin.
“I should give you a return gift for this, baby owl. Shouldn’t I?” he whispers directly over your ear. His hold getting tighter.
Maybe forgotten birthdays aren’t really that bad…
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Happy Birthday to my King. My comfort character, my eternal love and just my bestfriend from Haikyuu.
Happy Birthday Bokuto Koutarou...the ACE of my heart.
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©—work of bokutoslittledoll. All rights reserved. Do not plagiarise the work in any manner.
Thank you everyone for reading this.
Please refrain from copying my work and reposting ot anywhere on other websites. Reblog for sure but do not repost without credit or my tags.
Reblogs are highly appreciated.
Thanks again <3
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sakuric · 3 years
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birthday.
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synopsis!it all happened with a cake and some cupcakes.
wc!2.2k
pairing!sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader
a/n!HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML!! have this one shot i wrote.
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the early morning’s sun shone through the thin curtain of your window. you rubbed your eyes awake and stretched your arms over your head, before sliding the curtain to the right side and admiring the sunset. the way all the hues– orange, yellow, pink –mixed together reminded you of the way sakusa’s face would blush when you called him pet-names.
sakusa loved pet-names, and that was a thing no one knew about him, except for you. kiyoomi classified you as someone he could always trust, so he told you about his day first thing when he got back. you're his walking diary, and you didn't mind it.
he told you jokes that atsumu told him, he’d tell you about the way his favourite chemicals work, he’d show you a new way to spike or ask you to help him exercise his wrists.
you blasted your favourite songs, from the playlist you and kiyoomi created, while getting ready. today was a saturday, the least busy day of your week, so you decided to just roam the streets of tokyo and try to find something to spend your time on.
sakusa, on the other hand, was tracking how much his heartbeat rises whenever he looks at you. he had pictures of you, and himself, in a special folder in his phone, and choosing one of the pictures, he looked down at the fitbit on his wrist and saw his heartbeat rise.
he, also, decided to play some music while still thinking of you. he had a separate playlist on another music app (so you couldn't see it), and it was all songs that reminded him of you. the current song playing was yellow by coldplay. he knew that the song had a meaning, and he knew he had to find his own yellow, or soulmate as people like to say, yet he thought it’d be obsessive if he called you his soulmate. for that exact reason, he hid the playlist in another app, moved all the pictures with you into the hidden part of his gallery and tried to shake off any thoughts about you.
his fingers tapped the screen of his phone as he dialed your phone number, which he had memorised, before hovering his finger over the green ‘call’ button. what if you're busy? he wouldn't want to disturb your day, neither would he want to be annoying. he went over all the possible what if’s, and by the time he gathered the courage, you had facetimed him instead.
“hey, omi-omi,” you huffed, your breath creating warm fumes in the cold air. god, how he loved when you called him that; even if atsumu came up with the nickname, you saying it was a whole different feeling. if atsumu continued calling him that, he’d make a disgusted face and swat him away, however, when ‘omi-omi’ leaves your lips, his heart does a double backflip and lands into a split. he feels delighted and bright inside.
“hey, y/n.” he answered, checking his fitbit and seeing his heartbeat spike up higher than before. he hid that hand in his pocket as he started strutting around his living room while talking to you. you offered to meet up and spend the day together, as neither of you had any plans and were incredibly bored. (and it was also his birthday, which he thought you forgot about.)
“uh,” sakusa hesitated, calculating everything that could go wrong if he said yes, but then imagining you get upset if he said no. “..sure. let me get ready and i’ll meet you there.”
“yay!” you exclaimed, before blowing a kiss at him and ending the call. sakusa sighed, placing the phone in his pocket and getting ready to go out.
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“omi!!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down and wrapped his around your waist, pulling you into a warm and tight hug. sakusa pulled away after inhaling enough of your smell. (he didn't want to be weird, but he likes the perfume you use and how you overall smell.)
“let’s go to that café we always go to,” you smiled at him as you grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the café. sakusa hated crowded places, you knew that, but he had given you consent to bring him anywhere as long as you're there with him.
he feels safe when you’re around him; you're like a walking home to him. he always feels comfortable, the way you’d feel sitting by a fireplace on a cold, winter morning. his hands don't feel weird holding yours, and if it was anyone else he’d hide his hands in his pockets, but he appreciated you and felt comfortable enough to, maybe, share some germs with you.
“hey, you okay?” you pouted, seeing sakusa’s eyebrows knitted and his face showing signs of overthinking; for the past few years of knowing sakusa, you picked up on his habits and the way he handled situations. he’d make a certain face when overthinking, secretly pinch the back of his hand when he’s nervous or jog a little faster when he’s excited to see you.
all of this knowledge about your best friend still didn't save you from what was about to come. sakusa gave you a bright smile, a prominent dimple decorating his cheek as he told you, “i’m okay, y/n. let’s go get the coffee and head to go shopping.”
“you..” a mumble left your lips as you placed a hand over your mouth. you were surprised– no, you were smitten. it felt like the whole world stopped and it was just you and him in the café, standing in line and looking at each others eyes. your heartbeat reached the highest of numbers as you felt the sight of sakusa’s dimples engrave his name into your heart.
“i.. what? do i have something on my face?” sakusa quickly put on his mask and hid his face behind the large palms of his hands. he was self-conscious about his own looks, even though he's been trending on social platforms for being one of the most handsome faces.
“no..” you hummed, still amazed by the way you couldn't notice it before. you grabbed his hands and removed them from his face, holding them tightly and saying, “you.. you have a dimple”
“oh, yeah.” sakusa let out a small chuckle. “it came up recently. did you like it?”
“i love it.”
sakusa blushed, but his mask concealed it completely. he motioned for you to go order first, as he ordered after you and you left the café with two coffee’s in both your hands. sakusa offered his hand, which you politely agreed to hold, and you both started walking towards one of the many shops.
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“wait here,” you spoke, giving him a reassuring smile as you left him to sit at the bench outside of the cake shop. you decided to confess today, even though it was his birthday. it’d be like a gift, right? you ordered the cake and waited for it to be done. you saw sakusa doodling something on the small hand sanitizer bottle that he had gotten.
it was a pineapple scented hand sanitizer, one of your favourite scents. you knew he didn't like scented hand sanitizers, so why did he buy it? maybe it’s for a friend, a family member. either way, you smiled at the thought of omi finally finding a pair. he was always so closed off and never wanted to have a s/o, but maybe this change was good. good for both you and him.
what you didn't know, was that he didn't want an s/o, because he had you. he knew that one day, he’d gather enough courage and ask you out, ask you to be his. while waiting for you to get back, he took out the scented hand sanitizer and a pack of sticky notes, along with a pen. he came up with this idea while getting dressed to meet you. he thinks he’s ready.
you came back with a box of cupcakes and a cake box stacked on your hands. sakusa stood up and helped you by taking off the top box. (which, luckily, was only the cake.)
you decided to go back home before giving him the cupcakes. the train ride back was quiet, you both exhausted from walking and talking about nonsense. sakusa’s arm was draped around your shoulders, while the other one held the cake box. you got comfortable and placed your head on his shoulder while closing your eyes.
“don’t fall asleep yet, y/n.” sakusa huffed through his mask. you looked up at him, your eyes forming crescent moons as you smiled. he felt his heart flip and turn, tugging at his chest. his lungs tensed and it felt hard to breathe. “i won't fall asleep, omi-kun.” you grinned, turning your gaze down to where your phone was. you clicked the camera icon in the list of apps and turned it around to face you. sakusa noticed and put up a peace sign as you took a picture. you giggled and accidentally clicked the sound up button, which took a picture of you smiling brightly and sakusa’s eyes forming small crescent moons as he smiled slightly under his mask. the picture was unexpected, but it was one of the best you’ve ever taken.
“omi-kun! look at how pretty you look!” you exclaimed, zooming into his face in the picture. sakusa looked closely, trying to figure out what was ‘pretty’ about him in that picture.
“i don't see it.” sakusa raised a brow, admitting to not knowing how beautiful he was. you sighed, rolling your eyes and looking up at sakusa. “stop saying that, omi-omi. you’re handsome and you know that!” you pouted, which caused sakusa to smile a little. he knew he was handsome, but he enjoyed hearing you call him that.
“do you think i should post this?” you asked, typing out a caption under the said picture. sakusa eyed the caption; on the move with my favourite boy!! @msby.sakusa <3 . sakusa nodded and so you proceeded to hit ‘post’.
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sakusa invited you to go to his house after the trip, which was unusual, because he doesn't prefer people entering his home. you carefully took off your shoes in the corridor and placed them in the right place before entering his home.
the house he had was located in the further east part of tokyo. it didn't have many houses around it, which seemed fitting for sakusa's taste. the interior part of his house was decorated with few paintings and other home decor. one of which caught your eye; it was a picture frame of him and the msby team, another picture frame next to it had you and sakusa in it. you softly ran your finger over sakusa’s face in the picture, smiling to yourself. sakusa quietly observed you from the doorway to his living room. he leaned on the wall, arms crossed on his chest and a small, genuine, smile on his face. you placed the picture down and turned to see sakusa eyeing you. a blush creeped upon your face as you fixed your hair and entered the living room.
“so, uhm..” you started. “i asked you to hang out because it's your birthday and i didn't want you to be alone during such a special day.” sakusa’s heart already melting at what was about to come. “i got you this cake, which you already saw, but i also got you these cupcakes. “ you handed him the box, which he opened. he widened his eyes at the icing on the cupcakes. each of the cupcakes spelled out “i like you.”, which sakusa thought was a dream. he quickly pulled out the sanitizer and note from his back pocket and gave it to you. “i guess both of us had something we wanted to confess…” sakusa spoke as you read the note.
y/n, i like you. be mine?
it was straight-forward, yet it made your heart flutter at such care. you returned your gaze at sakusa, who was still eyeing the cupcakes he had placed on the table. he looked back at you, opening his arms to embrace you in a hug, which you gladly took. pulling him in close, you hoped this moment would never end. his arms embraced you in the warmth of his body as he mumbled something into your hair. only a while after, you realised he kept saying ‘be mine, be mine, be mine’
“i’m yours, kiyoomi.” you answered, looking up at him. his face was painted a light shade of crimson, which you found cute. it was just like the sunset this morning, you thought. sakusa leaned in, hesitating to press his lips on yours. you noticed, and leaned in to save him the struggle.
you both pulled away after a while, both of your faces tinted with blush. sakusa let go of you and went to open the cake box. his heart strings tugged as he read what was written on the cake;
happy birthday, omi-kun ♡︎
and to his diary, kiyoomi spoke; “thank you for the best birthday i’ve ever had, darling.”
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© all work written by sakuric is not to be posted on any other writing app or website without notice. if it is found to be reposted without consent, rightful action will be taken.
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getitinbusan · 3 years
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The Music Room -
Min Yoongi 18+ Smut
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Part of the Lost Boys Series
JIN • NAMJOON • YOONGI •
Warnings: 18+ smut, MF sex, MF oral, A playful bite, Swearing.
Words: 3075
Summary: A stand alone series about a misfit friend group of seven boys. These stories are a day in the life snip it of who they are, where they came from and how they love.
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The melody drifting up the barren hall floated through the air like it was made for your ears alone.
The poetic rhythm of the keys made you pause, listening enviously at the talent of whomever was playing.
But who was playing? It was 8 am on a Friday, the room should be vacant. Pulling up the music rooms schedule on your phone, you weren't wrong. The first spot of the day was yours for the entire semester. 
You knocked lightly. The sound stopped and the bench made it's familiar dragging noise across the concrete floor. 
Pulling the heavy windowless wood open by it's cold handle you peeked inside. He scrambled, seemingly embarrassed, shoving his sheet music into his backpack. 
"You should be more careful with your notes, don't want to ruin any masterpieces." 
"No fear in that," he mumbled.  "They're just a bunch of scribbled ideas."
 Pulling the zipper shut he slung it over his shoulder.  "Sorry, I didn't know this was your time slot." 
"It's fine." you tried to smile at him but he kept his eyes down.
"Don't you have the schools app? I can check to see when you're supposed to be here." You tapped the widget,  "What's your name?"
"It's fine, I'm actually not on the schedule." 
"Oh, why not? You sounded great. If you missed the cutoff you can still be added to a wait list. People drop out all the time." 
He looked up and grinned. By God if he wasn't the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen.
"I don't belong here." 
"Don't say that. I was listening and you're really talented, you deserve to be here just as much as any of us." 
"I don't though." His eyes met yours and you were done for. "I don't go here, I'm not a student." 
"Ahh, I guess that's a problem." 
"I already said I'm sorry," he got defensive. "I'll just get out of your way."
He started towards the door.
You tugged his backpack. "So is breaking into schools and playing piano a weird hobby of yours?"
You tried to lighten the mood, "you've got a little Phantom of the Opera University edition kink?" 
He laughed. "I'm not technically breaking in, I do have a key fob." He held up the school ID. "It's my roommates. And if you want to know about my kinks you're gonna have to get to know me a little better." 
You stepped closer and took it from his hand.
"Park Jimin, Performing Arts." Handing it back you eyed him up and down. "So what's your story….."
"My name's Yoongi."
Pulling a chair out from the corner you sat and rummaged through your backpack until you pulled out your breakfast. 
"Listen Yoongi, I was just going to sit here. I need logged practice time for course credit." 
You peeled your clementine, "So if you want to stay and play, be my guest."
He looked at you unsure, "Why would you do that for me?" 
You smiled and shrugged. "I like your face." 
Turning red he plopped his knapsack back onto the floor and reclaimed the bench. 
You waited until his fingers were just about to land on the keys. "I do have one condition though." 
He froze, "Yeah, what's that?" 
"You have to take me for coffee later and tell me your story. Agree?" 
"I Agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to ask you out anyway." 
You probably wouldn't have given up your time but you were intrigued. Park Jimin was an amazing dancer. The curious boy who was here on scholarship was often the subject of conversation in the dining hall. Not only was he good looking but he was a mystery. He hung out with the strangest group of friends, seven misfit boys who were proud to not fit in. In this small University town they stood out as odd, everyone referred to them as The Lost Boys. Yoongi, now being revealed to you as one of them, seemed harmless enough and the opportunity to get to know a piece of them was too good to pass. 
Walking and talking up the worn concrete path you made your way through the bustle of pajama clad students trying to get to class. 
"Don't you have to be somewhere?" 
"Yeah, but I don't care. I'd rather get to know you." 
"You should go, I'm not so important that you should lose a day of school over me." 
"It's all bullshit anyway Yoongi, it's not going to get me anywhere." 
He stopped abruptly, now just outside the small coffee shop. "You sound like a spoiled brat." 
You were shocked, who the hell was he to speak to you like that? 
"I'd kill to be in your position and you don't even give a shit about just squandering it away." 
He pulled the door open and looked at you crossly. "Still want that coffee?" 
You stepped in front of him and shot him a dirty look. "I do. You owe me AND because I'm a brat I'm going to order the fanciest thing on the menu. TO GO!" 
He silently walked behind you, following to the counter while you placed your ostentatious order. You stood studying him while he asked for an iced Americano. His blond shaggy hair skimmed his chocolate eyes and his sexy lips seemed to  always sit in permanent pout. They looked like they'd be nice to kiss. 
"You want to stop staring at me and take your expensive drink. You're holding up the line." 
You blushed, knocked from your daydream admiration by his deep voice.
You huffed while pulling the chair out, making a show of your annoyance, situating yourself at the corner table.
"I thought you were getting it to go?" he barbed. 
"Why would I do that when I can be a pain in your ass a little bit longer? You promised to tell me your story, let's hear it?" 
His inhale was deep. Anxiety? Apprehension? A mix of both? His eyes stared at his coffee while his fingers fiddled with the straw. "I want to be a musician." 
"Well I figured that much." 
"Listen, if you really want to know can you just shut up? This isn't an easy thing for me to talk about, I don't just tell everyone." 
"If you don't want to tell me don't" 
He cut you off. "But I do want to, for some stupid reason."
"What reason?" 
He exhaled with a smirk. "I like your face." 
You smiled, "Then please continue." 
"I want to be a musician. I write music and lyrics and it's all I've ever wanted my entire life."
He took a sip of coffee. "My parents didn't approve of my choices so I decided to move out on my own and live my life how I wanted." 
You nodded in understanding. 
"I didn't take into consideration how hard exactly that would be, but I'm a proud man, and there's no going back." 
"So what do you do? You're not a student, do you work?"
"Yeah, I deliver food and groceries part time. It doesn't pay much but the basics are covered." 
You looked down at your shitty expensive coffee in guilt, maybe you were just a spoiled brat.
"So whenever I'm not working I try to get as much practice and writing in as I can. I use Jimin's fob to get into the music room and that's where I am most nights...all night." he shrugged in omission. 
"So no time for a girlfriend?" you felt silly the moment it left your lips. 
"I didn't think so." He looked up for the first time since the conversation started. "But," he smiled, "I think given the right person priorities could definitely be changed." 
Talking into the afternoon time flew away. Several less expensive coffees later he looked at his phone and frowned. "I've got to go to work." 
He stood up and gathered his things. "But I'd love it if we could see each other again." 
You stood to go too. "Next Friday 8am? I can let you in with my fob?" 
"That sounds really nice." His hand reached out and his fingers brushed across yours as he took the tray from you. "But I was hoping I wouldn't have to wait that long. We're having a party tonight at our place...will you come?" 
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You sat on the edge of the sofa watching the group around you getting drunk and philosophical. Definitely nothing like a frat party, these guys were a different breed.
His roommates were all handsome in their own way and something about them just set you at ease. No pretensions, no apologies, they were just who they were having fun.
Finally seeing him walk through the door your heart raced when his eye caught yours.
"I'm sorry I'm late, they kept getting orders." 
"It's okay. Your roommate..." you pointed to Seokjin. "The one with the really broad shoulders, he kept me entertained with some pretty good jokes." 
He scrunched his nose, "really, really sorry." 
You pulled a bottle vodka out of your purse and raised your brows. "Are you ready for some fun." 
He grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the couch until you were close enough to hear without having to shout.
"I'd like to grab a shower. Do you want to wait in my room for me? I mean...if you're uncomfortable down here by yourself." 
It was a no brainer, the sexual tension and chemistry you'd had all day was like a current of electricity running between you.
"Lead the way." 
You looked around his room while he was showering. Sure the mattress was on the floor but the bed was made and his clothes were hung neatly in the closet. His dresser was stacked with notebooks that were overflowing with lyrics. Pieces of paper with doodles and random words loosely spilling from between the pages. 
Pictures, they must be family, small resemblances in their smiles and it looked like he had a brother. 
He had a shelf full of colognes. Picking up the Paco Rabanne he walked in as you were pulling the cap off to sniff it. 
"Sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosey, I just wanted to know what you smelled like." Idiot, of all the creepy things to say. 
He smiled, "It's alright, I'm not hiding anything." 
"No," your cheeks flushed when it finally registered that he was half naked in front of you. "I guess you really aren't." 
"Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just forgot to grab my clean clothes before I went in." He opened a drawer to pull out a shirt. 
"It doesn't," you blurted embarrassed. 
He pulled his hand away from the clothing and raised his brows quizzically, "So you don't want me to get dressed?" 
You walked towards him, he was gorgeous. Water droplets still clung to his muscular chest like he couldn't afford the time away from you to fully dry himself. 
"I think," you stammered, "That I'd actually prefer if you didn't."
You placed your hand on his bicep and waited for his response. 
It didn't come from words, it came from two soft warm lips attaching themselves to yours. 
"You're a good good kisser Min Yoongi. Is your mouth that good at everything?" 
"You mean like singing?" He teased your lips with his while he popped the button on your jeans. 
"No," you giggled. 
"Then you must mean biting?" His teeth lightly bit the flesh of your thigh as he kneeled to lower your pants and underwear. 
"Nope, that's not what I meant either." 
"Oh, I know, you must mean eating?" His warm tongue found your clit and gave it a little flick. "I think I'm pretty good at it." 
You ran your fingers through his hair while he looked up at you hungry. 
"Prove it," you moaned." 
Stepping out of your pants you leaned back against his dresser. Ass resting on the edge he opened your thighs, a low mumble of, "fuck" drifting out of his mouth before he dove in. 
His large hands held you open while his silky tongue explored every crevice of your sex sending your senses into a frenzy. Coming up for air every so often he'd moan at the loss of your taste before inhaling and going back in for more. He wasn't methodical, his mouth was unpredictable. One minute his tongue would be deep inside you and the next he'd have his lips around your clit sucking softly. 
"Come over here with me."
He led you to the bed, taking off your shirt before guiding you down. Your eyes ran over his body stopping at the bulge under the tightly wrapped terry cloth towel. The wetness in between your legs grew just thinking about getting to see it. 
He laid down beside you, holding your face and kissing you while you reached to undo his shroud.  
Smiling, he pulled your hand away, "I'm not done with you yet. Tell me what you want me to do to you." 
You had to rub your legs together for friction, he was driving you wild. "This morning, when I watched you playing?" 
He smiled like he knew.
"All I could think of was how sexy your..." He stopped your words by hooking two fingers  into your mouth and rubbing them against your tongue. 
"You were thinking about how good these would feel inside you?" He kissed your neck, "You really know what you want huh?" 
"Some people even say I'm spoiled."
"Do you always get your way?"
He plunged them inside of you changing your words of, "I hope so," into a long drawn out moan.  
Kissing his way down your neck and over your collar bones his mouth lingered on your breasts. Skimming his lips across your nipples he watched as they hardened into excited little buds. A small smile graced his face, he was clearly proud of how he was making your body react. 
His long piano fingers played skillfully inside of you while he latched onto your nipple and suckled. Your heart beat loudly like it was part of the parties soundtrack, the music  reverberating through the floor as he fingered you. The whole unfolding scene felt like a dream. Dizzy and intoxicated from lust and heavy breathing you didn't want to wake up to a reality other than this one.
A thud outside the door snapped you back, your thighs clamping shut on his hand as you pulled the covers up to hide yourself. 
"It's locked, nobody can get in, don't worry." He pulled the sheet back off of you to continue his work. 
"Are you sure they can't get in?"
A loud moan rang through the hall and the thuds against the wall gave away the truth. 
"I'm sure they have their own agenda." 
You flopped back trying to regain the moment while his fingers  stroked your walls. 
It was distracting at first, people fucking right outside his door. But a few minutes of listening to their pleasure, of hearing their moans and the pleas of harder, you were more turned on than ever. 
He watched you unravelling at the  pornographic sounds. "You wanna cum when they do?" 
"Please..please," you begged in time with the drag of his fingers. 
The sounds escalating on both sides of the wall seemed to add fuel to the fires of both immanent orgasms. Just as the stranger in the hall screamed her end, Yoongi pumped and sucked harder until you finished longer and louder than your unknown counterpart. He laughed as he pulled his fingers out of you, the strings of excitement cleaned off with a lurid suck of his own digits. 
Your head was still reeling when he pulled his towel off. His thick beautiful cock looked so hard and ripe as he reached in his drawer for a condom. 
"Can I put it on you?" You took it from his hand and ripped the package open. Holding it between your fingertips you got closer and ran your tongue around the head of his cock. The taste of pre cum on his freshly washed dick made you ready for more.
Giving him a few deep sucks and pumps you needed him now. He watched while you rolled the thin latex tightly over his twitching thickness and straddled him, wasting no time to begin bouncing on his cock. 
Your kisses were messy, hands entwined in his hair, your breasts grazing against his skin with every thrust while you rode him. "Fuck, you feel so good." 
His hands gripped your ass squeezing as he moaned underneath you. Orgasm building like a hurricane, the eye of the perfect storm became more imminent with every slide of your pleasure point against his soaked pubic trail.
"Make me cum Yoongi." 
He flipped you swiftly onto your back and his hips picked up the pace to the finish line. Thrusting in between your open thighs his cock drove you to convulsively cum, your cunt squeezing his own warm liquid into the condom between you. 
He lay with his arms around you in silence. Your head on his chest listening to his heart slowly make it's way back to a normal pace.
"I can't promise you anything more than who I am. I don't have anything to offer you but dreams that may or may not come true."
He stroked your hair as he spoke his truth. "I'm working hard, but I can't guarantee that I'll ever amount to anything more than a delivery boy." 
You sat up on your elbow and stared at the man you'd just fallen in love with. "I want to share all of my time with you Yoongi. In fact, I insist you take it. I've heard you play and I believe in you."
You waited until your lips were just about to land on his. "I do have one condition though." 
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Yeah, what's that?" 
"You've got to promise you'll write me a song. Agree?" 
His fingers splayed caressing your back, he couldn't help the huge smile that took over his face when he kissed you. 
"I agree. But you didn't have to give up your time for that, I was going to do it anyway."
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starlocked01 · 4 years
Text
Beautiful Mistakes
AO3 @tsshipmonth2020
Masterpost- Previous- Next
Summary-  Remy can't think before he has his coffee and that causes problems for him and his soulmate.
A/N- Slightly altered so that the marks disappear a few minutes after they’ve been received.
Day 9 Remile- Whatever you draw on your skin shows up on your soulmate
Emile could feel the slight itch on his cheek that indicated a message from his soulmate had appeared. He flushed with embarrassment but kept his composure. He quickly scrawled on his wrist.
Not now, Rem. I'm with a client.
He turned back to his patients with a smile and his wrist itched as Remy replied.
Oops
"Doc, you okay?"
"My apologies, my soulmate likes to send messages when he wakes up. Except he works… at night," Emile sighed, affectionately yet exasperated.
"Well the flags look cute, I guess as long as you're okay with your patients knowing..." Dot smiled and nodded encouragingly.
Emile paled, "he didn't…"
"I think he did," Larry replied.
Emile put a hand to his cheek, "it's a pride flag isn't it?"
"Oh don't worry, Doc! It's so cute! Larry, isn't it cute?"
"He's going to be rather upset with me. I can't check it, and he's not out at work yet… but enough about me, back to Dorry! Or if you prefer, Larrydot?? " Emile grinned despite the looks of confusion the couple were giving him. His cheek and wrist continued to itch but he insisted on staying focused on the session.
By the time Larry and Dot were leaving, the itching had crawled up his forearm. Remy must be rather upset.
He checked his watch. The next appointment was in 20 minutes. He could take 5 to read through the tirade and would still be able to review notes for the next couple. He rolled up his sleeve to see a block of text that grew more frantic the farther it got up his arm.
Babe check out the drawing!
I worked hard on that girl pls appreciate me
Em i have work in an hour
Look. At. Your. Cheek.
This isn't funny!
Okay it was supposed to be funny but i can't have a gay flag on my face at work they will kill me!!!!
Bitch
Bitch
You don't love me im gonna die because you don't love me
No one is gonna believe me if i have to lie about this
Please????
>:[
Emile chuckled and wrote back quickly.
This is your fault for drawing on your cheek. You know I work and can't check messages right away.
He checked the time again and pulled out his phone, opening the camera app. He admired the little gay flag crossed with a pan flag. He took a quick selfie to preserve the drawing on his phone. It really was sweet, if unfortunately timed. Luckily, most of his clients would be fairly understanding. Remy's coworkers on the other hand would not.
The tirade on his arm had faded and  been replaced with a new line from Remy.
Don't judge me I didn't have my coffee yet girl
Emile chuckled and pulled his sleeve back down, finding the file and notes he had for the next couple's session.
Remy sat in his car, obsessively checking the mirror until the flags on his cheek faded away. The last thing he needed was to get outed by a soul mark. He was usually late anyway because of the line at Starbucks, what harm would one more day do?
A lot of harm, apparently.
His boss was waiting by the loading dock, impatiently tapping his foot as Remy strolled up.
"'Sup? What are we-"
"Don't even bother clocking in. You don't do shit here and this is the fifth time you've been late this month. You're done."
Remy sputtered, "this is homophobic!"
His boss stared hard at him, eyes narrowing, "You're lazy and you're gay? You're FIRED!"
"Whatever! Your loss, you prick!" Remy turned and flipped the man off as he walked back to his car. He got in and locked the doors, taking some deep breaths. He considered writing to Emile, but decided this was probably an in-person topic.
He restarted the car and drove home, mentally preparing for a lot of explaining.
Emile was surprised to see Remy's car in the driveway when he got home and more than a little concerned. He parked and hurried inside. He found his soulmate sitting in the dark, sipping coffee, and scrolling instagram.
"Remy? Are you okay?"
"Got fired."
"Oh my stars! What happened?"
Remy gave an exasperated sigh, "he didn't like me being late. He also blamed me being gay so idk maybe there's a lawsuit there."
"Was it because of the flags? I tried to check as soon as possible…"
"No… I'm usually late anyway," Remy sank deeper into the couch and Emile moved to sit down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Maybe it was time for a career change. You can find somewhere more accepting with less crazy hours."
"Maybe I'll become a stripper. They make good money right?" Remy mused, leaning into Emile’s side. The other man wrapped him in a one armed hug.
"While I am sure you'd be a natural, I'd be very concerned for your safety as a sex worker, dear. What about something you're passionate about?" Emile tried to be encouraging, numbers running through his head calculating exactly how long they could live off a single salary.
The outlook was not super promising.
"Don't worry, babe, I'll do some research tonight and fill out some applications. Promise," Remy gave Emile a smile that was skin deep, "what do you want for dinner? I'm starving."
After a week of Remy submitting applications and hearing nothing back, Emile was about ready to suggest the exotic dancer route himself. It wasn't that they were under financial stress (yet), moreso that Remy was a lot more rambunctious being cooped at home during the night. He kept waking Emile up too early and the loss of sleep was starting to affect his clients.
"Hey Doc? You're kinda unusually quiet today…"
Emile shook himself back to alertness, "sorry about that Elliott, where were we?"
"Um," they tapped their fingers together while thinking, "I think I was talking about how my soulmate never writes back. They check every message but I never get any from them. It doesn't… feel good."
"Remember what we've said before, Elliott, your worth isn't based on your soulmate. Whatever reason they choose not to write back, the fact of the matter is that you're still an amazing and powerful person in your own right."
Emile was interrupted by an itching on his wrist. Remy would usually still be asleep by now it was late enough in the morning.
He resisted the urge to check the mark as he spoke with Elliott and he could feel the itch crawling up his arm.
After the session, Emile quickly pulled up his sleeve, praying for good news.
I GOT IT!!!
Finally got an interview for tomorrow!!
<3 <3 <3
There were several more hearts and Emile allowed himself a small smile of relief. He doodled back a heart or two for Remy before returning his focus back to work.
They could celebrate when that interview turned into a position.
He greeted the next couple with a broader smile and a tad more exuberance, much to their dismay.
Remy was nervous. This job sounded too good to be true and they'd practically hired him on the spot. He wasn't about to let his soulmate down though.
He followed the man down the hall, sipping his tea for comfort.
"Honestly just don't let anyone eat anything inedible or hit each other and you'll do great," the man smiled, showing Remy into a room with a dozen kids and two other frazzled looking adults.
Piece of cake right?
Emile was in the middle of a session when he felt the itch on his cheek. He tried to smile through it, but then he felt more itches on his legs and arms and nose. His clients were too preoccupied actually talking through their issue with each other so Emile checked his arm to find a rainbow of scribbles that kept growing.
He put a hand to his face to cover his nose and cheek. What had Remy gotten himself into?
Pretty soon his clients were used to seeing Emile with colorful marks all over his face. He explained that his soulmate worked with kids and almost everyone nodded knowingly. He did ask that if they ever saw an inappropriate drawing they let him know so he could check it right away.
Some days he would draw little cartoons for the kids to fill in. They loved that and he always sent them little hearts back when they did a good job (they always did a good job).
And most importantly, Remy was having a great time with his job and got to be home at nights, so they saw each other a lot more often. They both enjoyed that.
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august-anon · 4 years
Note
Ok, so, winter prompts... I’m not the best at coming up with ideas... But what if the sides were doing a Christmas wish list sort of thing, and one of the sides rights down that they want to be tickled? (I’d imagine it’d be Virgil, but you can choose who it is I don’t really care)
Hey, hope you enjoy it! Thanks for sending in the prompt, my friend!
Joyful Noise
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Ship(s): Platonic LAMP
Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Virgil, Ler!Roman, Ler!Logan, Ler!Patton
Word Count: 1221 words
Summary: Virgil tiredly lets something slip on his Christmas list, but it doesn’t turn out as bad as he fears.
[ao3 link]
——————————–
Virgil didn’t know why Patton had insisted they all make Christmas lists. It wasn’t like Virgil even knew what he wanted, let alone how to ask for things.
And yet, he seemed to be the only one having problems.
Roman had passed out a copy of his list to each of them a few days ago, practically a scroll with the length of the parchment, written in his best calligraphy. Logan had given his out the day after that, typed neatly and formatted well, short and to the point. Even Patton had finished his, scribbled and scrawled in markets and full of doodles because he kept getting distracted. While the contents were technically the same, each of his lists were unique.
But Virgil sat there, barely days left, staring at the notes app he opened in his phone, the text blank. He had nothing. He didn’t know what to ask for.
He could just… wing it? What were things he liked? Virgil liked comfort items like blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. He liked spooky things. He liked Disney. He liked t—
Nope. Not typing down that one.
But what if he did?
Judgement impaired by the fact that it was three in the morning, Virgil hastily typed the word in and quickly clicked off his phone, tossing it to the side. He’d probably take it off in the morning, or at least before he sent it, but for the time being Virgil could at least pretend he was brave enough to admit it.
Even if just to himself for this time.
The next morning, Virgil groggily added a few more things to his list. Chocolate. Cookies. A new pair of headphones. Simple things that wouldn’t be too imposing or difficult to get him.
“How’s the list coming, kiddo?” Patton asked eagerly that afternoon.
“It’s, ah… it’s coming.” Virgil grimaced, suddenly self-conscious.
Patton gave a sympathetic pout and squeezed his shoulder. “If you need any help, let me know. I know it’s hard to think of things you want sometimes.”
Virgil hesitated. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty much done. I just don’t know if it’s good enough.”
Patton beamed and clapped his hands together. “I’m sure it’s perfect, Virge! Could you send it to us?”
So Virgil sent it that night, sending a screenshot of the list to each of them individually later that night. It felt too weird to put a Christmas list in the group chat.
After sending it, Virgil glanced the list over himself one last time.
-warm blankets
-fluffy/squishy pillows
-stuffed animals
-anything Disney
-to be tickled
-candy
-cookies
-a new pair of headphones
-a new phone case
—Wait. What?!
“-to be tickled?!”
Virgil forgot to remove that from the list! And it was too late! They’d all seen it by then, there was no taking it back.
Virgil was doomed. This wasn’t how he had planned to tell them. He hasn’t planned on telling them at all! How could he have forgotten to take that off his list?!
Virgil would just have to hope they didn’t notice, or that their eyes skimmed over it, or that they thought it was a joke. He ignored the tiny, desperate, hopeful voice in the back of his head, saying that maybe he’d actually get what he wanted.
He was a mix of mortified, relieved, and disappointed when no one mentioned it the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, Virgil had almost (almost) forgotten about it by the time Christmas Day finally rolled around.
And of course, the day started with Patton waking them all up far too early over his excitement for the holiday.
“Five more minutes,” Virgil groaned into his pillow, rolling onto his stomach.
“Now, Virgil,” Patton practically sang, “don’t make me take drastic measures.”
Virgil didn’t reply, which only made Patton let out a faux-displeased hum. Really, it sounded more fond (and almost teasing) than anything, but Virgil was too tired to place why that made a tingle go up his spine.
But then two hands slithered under his mound of blankets and scribbled at his right side and ribs and Virgil yelped, eyes going wide and jerking to the side so violently that he toppled off the other side of the bed.
Virgil popped his head up with a frazzled look, but was only met with Patton’s cheeky grin.
“Be downstairs in ten minutes, kiddo! There’s breakfast to make and presents to open!”
Virgil eyed the door warily after Patton left. Eventually he did get off the floor to toss his blankets back on the bed and Mae himself slightly more presentable. He didn’t want to know what Patton would do if he wasn’t downstairs at the end of his time.
Or maybe he did.
Either way, Virgil left his room and slowly started dragging himself down the stairs. Footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn’t pick up the pace. Not even when an annoyed, overly-dramatic sigh ruffled his hair.
But then two fingers jabbed into the flashiest part of his left side, then his right, then his left again, causing Virgil to make an embarrassing eep! noise and jerk away from where the fingers were. He barely swallowed down a giggle.
“Really, Virgil,” Roman said, finally gliding past him, “pick up the pace.”
Virgil grumbled some rude things when Roman turned his back, causing him to turn back around and point at Virgil threateningly before going back on his way.
Virgil stared after him, confused and suspicious, but his brain was still addled with sleep. Yet another poke to his side, this time closer to his hip, had Virgil jumping once more and spinning around to see who it was.
“You alright?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.
“I, uh, yeah. Fine.”
Logan hummed, That same teasing hum as Patton, and continued on his way as well. Virgil followed slowly behind.
The rest of the day went much of the same. Random, subtle teases, and pokes or tweaks out of nowhere, setting Virgil endlessly on edge. It wasn’t until halfway through opening gifts (when Virgil’s coffee was finally kicking in) that Virgil’s brain woke up enough to make the connection.
They really went and followed through with his mortifying Christmas list.
But the best part came after the gifts.
“I’m done waiting.” Roman announced loudly.
“Ro—“ Patton tried to start.
“Waiting for wh—ah!” Virgil cried out as he was tackled onto his back.
“To give you the best present of all,” Roman replied cheekily, and shoved his hands up under Virgil’s arms.
Virgil shrieked and tried to pin his arms to his sides, not bothering to hold in his joyous laughter. He cried out again as his arms were lifted above his head and pinned there.
Logan grinned above him. “Merry Christmas, Virgil.”
Virgil felt fingers start skittering around his knees and tweaking at the ticklish pressure points.
“Pat—!” Virgil squealed.
Patton giggled. “Now what kind of dad would I be if I didn’t get my kiddo what was on his Christmas list?”
Virgil burst into a new wave of cackling as six different hands targeted all-new sensitive places. He howled and thrashed, but he didn’t really want to get away or stop it, and they all knew it.
Needless to say, it was a very joyful Christmas that year.
182 notes · View notes
spaceskam · 4 years
Note
What a fabulous list! How about #4 for Boy Meets World (loooooooved this show as a kid!)
BMW 4. Character A has a rule of only dating people for two weeks before breaking up with them until they find a bag and decide they are in love with the owner.
"You are… so good at that.”
“You’re not bad either.”
Alex pushed off the couch and quickly started getting dressed. Michael stayed laid out on the couch and it had Alex so thankful he hadn't brought him to his place. As hot as he was, time was up.
"Where are you going? Stay," Michael said, flashing that charming smile and making grabby hands. Alex looked away and buttoned up his jeans.
"Look, you're cool," Alex said, "Super hot 'n all, but I don't know if we're a good match."
Michael shifted on the couch. "You barely know me, Alex. We've only been fucking around for two weeks. Why don't we go on like an actual date? You know, have a conversation before we dive into each other's pants."
"Kinda late on that front, don't you think?" Alex asked, sparing him one last glance as he pulled his shirt over his head. Michael did not look amused.
"So that's it?" he asked. Alex licked his lips and pushed away the thoughts of how he was good in bed and could make him laugh and could cook annoyingly well. Alex Manes did not do relationships and he wasn't about to start just because someone was good at what they did. 
"Sorry."
-
"Oh, god damn it, Alex! I liked that one!"
"Then you date him."
Alex smiled at Maria's middle finger that was unceremoniously shoved in his face. Liz just giggled on the other side of him.
"You know how Alex is. He thinks he's too cool for romance," she said. He scoffed.
"I don't think I'm too cool for romance. I think I'm young and hot and college is the time for exploring your sexuality. And I want to explore all avenues before I settle."
"Okay, exploring is one thing. Banging everything that is down to fuck is something else entirely," Maria teased as they found an empty booth in the back of the student union. They all slipped in only to find a backpack tucked in the corner. 
"I'm just expressing myself and I always have safe sex, so leave me alone. Whose bag is this?" Alex rambled, gesturing towards it with his head as he reached to dig his veggie burger out of the bag Liz had placed on the table since it was her day to buy lunch.
"Don't change the subject," Maria pressed, "Michael was good for you. Nice, smart, and he likes you even when you're a dick."
Alex rolled his eyes and cracked a smile. "Look, he's just not worth settling down for."
"How do you know? I know him better than you do and you were the one sleeping with him," Liz chimed in.
"Oh, not you too!" Alex groaned, still smiling, "Nah, but for real, did you see someone get up from this table?" 
The girls sighed, "No."
Alex took a bite of his burger before pulling the bag onto his lap and unzipping it. 
"What are you doing?" Liz asked.
"Seeing if there's a name anywhere."
"Dude, don't go through it, just bring it to lost and found."
"And walk all the way to campus police? Who do I look like?" he asked. They both rolled their eyes but didn't prod any further so it felt like they were going to let him continue.
He pulled out a thick, labeled binder and tried to flip through it. All the notes were meticulous and impressive to the point he raised his eyebrows, but there wasn't a name. It was just pages upon pages of math and other smart shit. There was even a tab for a coding class which was wild because he thought he knew everyone who was going into coding. Since that provided no answers, he dropped it back in the bag and dug some more.
He found a pack of bandaids, a tiny notebook full of doodles, a broken up protein bar that happened to be Alex's favorite, and a pair of bulky headphones that were attached to an iPod Touch. 
"Oh, Alex, c'mon, let's just bring it to lost and found," Maria sighed the second she spotted his giddy smile.
"It's for research!"
"It’s probably illegal!”
“Shush,” Alex said, swatting them away as he unlocked the iPod that didn’t have a password, “Who even has an iPod touch anymore?”
“Someone whose things you shouldn’t be going through,” Liz said, giving a sweet smile when he glared at her.
Annoyingly enough, the owner didn’t have any pictures of themselves or even any friends on it. The background picture and the lock screen were both just a Jedi sitting on the Iron Throne that was so dorky that it was almost endearing. When he began going through the gallery, Alex was faced with really old memes mixed in with fucking math memes. It wasn’t until he got to one that was mocking a syntax error, though, that he found himself grinning to the point he had to smack his hand over his mouth.
“Oh no,” Alex breathed, his eyes widening. Liz pressed into his side to peer over his shoulder.
“What? What is it?” she wondered.
“His memes,” Alex whispered, heart thudding in his chest, “They’re funny.”
“Oh no.”
“I think I’m in love.”
Maria, ever the pessimist, rolled her eyes. “You can’t be in love with someone you don’t know.”
“Look, Maria, you don’t get it,” he insisted, “Whoever owns this bag not only has good taste in protein bars, fantastic notes, and is a coding whiz, but he has funny memes. We’re basically meant to be.”
“How do you know it’s a guy?” Liz asked, “Could be a girl.”
“Why are you trying to break my heart? I just fell in love and you’re already trying to take him from me,” Alex accused. Both girls laughed and shook their heads at him. It came perfectly in time to Alex opening his iTunes app to see a flood of late-90s/early-2000s pop-punk that caused him to gasp. “Guys, he has Sum 41, Sublime, Blink, Green Day, The Offspring, Paramore, shall I go on?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Maria corrected, giving a shocked laugh towards Liz.
“Oh my God, he listens to fredo disco, I’m sold, I’m genuinely in love. You said I wouldn’t settle down, well, this person has gotten me to settle,” Alex sighed wistfully. Liz and Maria seemed to both think he was simply being dramatic, but he was serious. If anyone was worth his time and effort, it was the owner of this bag. Who else would he find that was this perfect? “I’m serious!”
“That’s completely superficial. They could be a horrible person,” Maria said. Alex groaned, going back to the home page of the iPod looking at the apps. He had sudoku. Further inspection showed that his high score on expert was 8 minutes. What a fucking dreamboat.
“Well, we’ll see. We’ll find out who this belongs to and we’ll see who’s right and you can apologize at my wedding,” Alex decided. 
“Okay, fine,” Maria laughed, “We’ll see.”
-
Before Alex very reluctantly turned the bag into lost and found, he put a piece of paper in it that requested the owner to call him.
Parting with the bag was painful at best, but he didn’t know how else he could figure out the owner unless he turned it in. Besides, if he randomly did run into the owner while still in possession of it, it would be very difficult to explain that he didn’t steal their bag.
That night, Alex dreamed of who the owner could possibly be. He liked to think that he was hot and smart and good in bed. If Michael Guerin sometimes replaced his fantasy then no one needed to know. It was simply who was fresh on his mind. The fact was that in two days tops, Alex would get a call and he would find the love of his life. Simple as that.
Except the call never came.
“It’s been three days! He had to have seen it by now,” Alex grumbled, pouting helplessly as he walked between Liz and Maria.
“I guess it just wasn’t meant to be,” Maria said, squeezing him in a side-hug even though she was smiling.
“Which is so unfair,” Alex groaned, dragging his feet even more.
“Maybe he’s in one of your coding classes and has your number already and is scared to call you,” Liz offered. Alex furrowed his eyebrows.
“Why would they be scared to call me?”
“Maybe they’re straight. Or a girl. Or not looking for a relationship,” Maria chimed in. Alex pouted.
“I can’t believe I’m already gonna die alone.”
“Such a drama queen.”
As pathetic as he felt, Alex made his way to class and decided to check out every person there. He had taken a picture on his phone of the bag which turned out to be genius since he could easily compare it to everyone in there. Sadly (or maybe not since none of them were his type), the owner wasn’t there.
His last, ridiculous decision was to wait outside the classroom until the next class to see if anyone in that class had the bag. He sat there like a creep, staring a little too intently at each bag that passed. He couldn’t figure out just why he was so fucking desperate. Well, yes he could. There was something about that stupid bag that just felt like it was meant to be. He wanted that damn happy ever after.
How was he supposed to know that he already knew the owner?
Alex felt his stomach drop to the floor as he saw the bag on the back of a very familiar curly head. He ducked behind a stack of books before Michael noticed him waiting and let himself panic for a couple of seconds. Of course. Of fucking course. 
“Code red,” Alex hissed into his phone after calling Maria and Liz in a group call, “Code motherfucking red.”
“What?” Liz asked excitedly.
“I found the owner of the bag,” Alex said, pausing for dramatic effect, “It’s Michael.”
“Ha!” Maria said, “I knew it!”
“You did not!”
“Well, I knew he was good for you. Apparently, you think he’s good for you too, you just were too busy trying not to get to know him that you didn’t notice,” Maria pointed out. Alex let out an annoyed whine, stomping his foot on the ground.
“Well, what do I do now? He probably hates me for being a massive dick.”
“Hate to say I told you so, but…” 
“Could you at least wait until I’m not in the worst situation of my life?”
“Is it really the worst?”
The voice that said that addition was much deeper than both Liz and Maria’s voices and caused Alex to jump, dropping his phone and fumbling to catch it. It was a very, very embarrassing thing that was only made more embarrassing whenever he turned to see Michael standing there.
“Call you, huh?” he asked. Alex slowly lifted the phone back to his ear.
“I’ll call you back,” he said, quickly ending the call as he looked to Michael. He’d never felt so uncomfortable before. But then again he’d never really liked someone before. He’d spent days accidentally fantasizing about Michael while trying to fantasize about backpack guy and two weeks before that sleeping with Michael who had made him laugh like no one else even though he really tried to not get to know him. And now he really, really wanted to get to know him.
“So…” Michael trailed off, pushing up onto his toes.
“You didn’t tell me you were dorky on top of being hot,” Alex said instead of anything clever. Michael snorted.
“Dude, I tried. I tried to get to know you. I liked you a lot and wanted to date you. You pushed me away. And suddenly you find my bag and, instead of giving it to me, you write your number down, stick it to my iPod, and give my bag to lost and found. You might just be the king of mixed signals,” Michael said. It took a lot of Alex not to scream. He was a dumbass.
“I didn’t know it was your bag.”
“You saw it multiple times, Alex. Did you really not pay any attention to me at all?” Michael asked. Alex sighed and pressed the heel of his hand between his eyes.
“You know that MTV show from back in the day called Room Raiders where they would go through people’s rooms and decide who they wanted to date based on that instead of, like, looks or personality. Like, you get an inside view of who they are by the way they keep their space, you know?” Alex explained. Michael didn’t answer, so he continued. “Basically, I got that with your bag. I was being a dick to you because I thought that was easiest, but when I went through your stuff, I‒”
“You went through my stuff?”
“I realized I really want to get to know you,” Alex said a little bit louder. Michael glared at him.
“You’re a real dick.”
“I know.”
“And mean.”
“Yeah.”
“And you totally don’t deserve to go out with me or even talk to me again.”
“Fair.”
“But,” Michael sighed, “I guess I could take you paying for a meal as payment for you going through my shit.”
Alex snapped his head up. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah,” Michaels said, smiling, “Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two.” Alex tried not to be too obvious about how giddy that made him.
“Yeah, maybe. So… Tonight, maybe?” Alex said, trying to sound smooth like he did the first time he asked Michael out. Michael just snorted and turned to walk into class.
“Call me.”
No matter how mocking his voice was, Alex still felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
74 notes · View notes
stygiantarot · 5 years
Text
Everyday Witchcraft
Taught on The Alexandria Archives, 7/1/19
 ~~~~ I have been incorporating witchcraft and magic into my daily routine for over a decade now. Some of my personal favorite ways are enchanting daily objects like wallets, keys, phones; simple daily kitchen witchcraft like morning cups of tea or coffee, toast/bagels, cereal; and using a shower to do more intensive cleansing and energy work than a simple rinsing of your skin and hair. ~~~~
Why is everyday witchcraft important?
Connection to the world around you: the very central commonality amongst witches and practitioners of varying types and paths is connection. We are connected more than the average person. Connected to life, to love, to death, to the Earth, to the cosmos, to our ancestors, entities, spirits, deities. We are those that understand the sum is greater than the parts deeply. It’s important to maintain that connection.

Connection to spirits: this can be any type of entity- ancestor, astral, nature, guides, familiars, etc. Being able to regularly communicate with these entities requires upkeep and practice- just like playing an instrument or participating in a sport or exercise activity. It’s a muscle!

Connection to Deity: If you are theistic, daily connection to your deities is important to keep that relationship meaningful and rewarding for you. It can not only help deepen your direct connection with the deity, but it also helps you steer clear of feeling negative about yourself for “falling behind” or becoming “fractured” in your worship. Worship does not have to be time consuming or costly. It can be done in a daily fashion. It’s all about building habits and routines.

Connection to Self: As I’ve said in past lessons, you are the absolutely most important tool at your disposal. You need special time daily to help hone that tool and take care of it. There are likely things you already do self-care wise that you haven’t counted as “witchcraft”- guess what? It is! Witchcraft isn’t just the casting of spells, crafting of rituals and worship, imbuing of objects and charms. It’s taking care of your tools; yourself included!

~~~~~
Creating a schedule
Your life is your own, and only you know how much time, effort, and energy you can put into things. Take a moment to think about your daily schedule and routine and where there are moments of pause and when there are moments of stress and movement. 
Don’t beat yourself up or force yourself to be the perfect witch - they don’t exist. 

Take it slow, instead of trying to add a million habits at once. The way a habit is formed is step-by-step. You want to start with something easy. I’m going to use offerings as an example (who the offering is for doesn’t matter). Start with water. You have a single specific cup or vessel that you have set aside. Fill it with water once a day at a certain time of day (close to the same time, but some fluctuation is fine) and leave it out as an offering. Do this daily until it becomes almost like second nature. You pass the cup at a certain time and you automatically take it to the sink to fill. Then you can build on it! Add a cracker or piece of candy- or light some incense or a candle. Do it multiple times a day. Add additional offerings for other entities. Alter it the way that works for you but that foundation is there. That is the heart of making a routine without it feeling like a “job”. Utilize energy and time when you have it. If you can’t do the same routine seven days a week- that is completely normal. I don’t do the same witchy routine all seven days a week! Plot out the best times you have that extra bit of time or usually have a little bit more energy or focus. Work around those times. Start out small; only add to it if you feel you haven’t hit your comfort level yet. If you’re there with only a couple small things a week, that is absolutely fine! ~~~~
Magic throughout the day
Morning:
Write down any dream notes or thoughts you remember. Even just a flash or emotion you have without clear memory.
Open your curtains. Look outside. Absorb the day’s energy into you; let it temper you for your day’s needs.

Infuse your morning drink with intent by stirring or adding certain flavors

Draw simple sigils on toast/bagels with toppings or with a bowl of cereal
Take a moment for some daily divination (using an app counts!)
Light a candle or incense burning for a brief moment of focused meditation/relaxation
Leave your morning offerings 
Create a glamour when doing your morning bathroom routine (doesn’t have to involve makeup- you can use water, soap, lotion, sunscreen, or just your fingers!
 
Take a moment to enchant your “daily pocket/purse items” (wallet, keys, phone, etc.) with intention needed for the day
 
Select or create a special “witchy” playlist or podcast to play during your morning, something with the energy you need to push along!
 
On your commute, take a moment to bond/communicate with your deities or spirit companions
Create a personal hydrosol scent and have a small spray bottle of it near your door or in your car. Spritz yourself gently before leaving your home.
 
Take a moment when starting your car or get ready to take transportation to charge a safe travel charm (should be actually created in advance, the morning action is only for charging it)
 
Drink water, refuel, be gentle with yourself. The morning can be intense.
At school:
Doodle sigils on your books and folders
Charge your pencil and pens to let words flow easily
Carry a focus stone or object with you and rub it during lectures to help focus. Then rub it again later while studying the same information.
Swirl a bottle of water before drinking to draw energy to you or banish negativity away. Flavor the water with intention.
Recharge a glamour by playing with hair, clothes, jewelry, accessories
 -Stretch when you need to! Take your time walking to a class when you can. Notice the world around you. Reflect.
Practice reading energy fields and other clairsentience types things with fellow classmates or teachers (respect passive boundaries)
Sigils and enchantments on your laptops and phones related to classwork
Dedicating study sessions to your deities
Color correspondences for supplies or clothing
Bring a snack that imbues needed intent
At work:
Enchant your work clothes with intention you feel you need (communication, patience, efficiency, luck, etc.)
Use a specific sigil-based home or lock screen on your phone while at work for additional intention.
Take any moment you can to observe something outside; even through a window or door on your way in or out. Remember that though you may not be amongst it for a chunk of the day, it remains there. Waiting.
If you’re on a break, take an extra minute or two to just close your eyes and recharge. Commune with spirits or deities. Feel yourself piece by piece and think about what your body does for you during the day while you are focused elsewhere.
Bring a plant or crystals into your workspace
Ward and cleanse your workspace
Charm your phone with a sweet talking spell or other action needed for work

 Evening:
Take a moment to decompress. Do not think about plans or the rest of the week. Just look outside and think about how the sun is leaving the sky and soon the moon will appear. Stars will wink at us from that black tapestry. The ground below you and nature around you is cooling off for the day, settling down with the murmur of nocturnal creatures.
Greet any housemates, physical or not and notice their energy and how it might mingle with yours briefly upon your arrival. Notice if you or your housemates energy behaves any differently if you mood is different; whether you directly tell them or not. 
 
Do some simple kitchen witchcraft for dinner (stirring and basic seasoning is intent!)
Take a moment to research a correspondence or other witchy aspect you’ve been curious about. Write it down on a note in your phone or a prepared scrap sheet for your grimoire/journal.
Write down any thoughts or ideas of a more intensive spell or ritual you’d like to try when you have some time. Write the supplies and time you’d need for it. Think about the ideal way to accomplish it.
Do some meditation, or commune with deity/entities, or do some shadow work (this is a good time to charge your phone as well; a little ways away)
Turn household tasks and chores witchy. Cleanse your dishes energy-wise and recharge them for health and prosperity while you put them away in the cupboards. Sprinkle spell powders on the floor right before vacuuming to release their intent while sucking up some dirt. Sweep away negative energy. Enchant your washer and dryer to do more than just clean your clothes.
Enjoy some hobby, crafting, binging time! You can incorporate some witchy stuff like knot magic, enchanting, spirit companion bonding, etc or you can just recharge yourself!
Work on a witch talent you enjoy for a little while (divination, spellwork, spirit work, crystals, astrology, kitchen witchcraft, etc.)
 
Use your nighttime bathroom routine to deepen your cleansing and grounding before bed. Focus on washing your skin not just removing surface dirt and oil but sloughing off the energy that snagged on you during the day like a stray hair. The worries you focused on. The stress you lingered on.
Draw sigils of peaceful sleep and happy dreams, healing, luck on you with lotion or creams.
Brush your teeth in counterclockwise circles to banish negativity
Splash your face with some water playfully. Remember what it is to feel, to touch, to enjoy the simple things. Let yourself chuckle or giggle.
Make sure you drink water!
Have a “sweet dreams” hydrosol by your bedside to spritz on your sheets before lying down.
Arrange your favorite bedside crystals. Touch them, recognize them, greet them.
Say hello to the moon. Share your secrets and worries. Let the moon keep them.
Say goodnight to your deities and spirit companions
253 notes · View notes
lesbianoctoling · 6 years
Note
Agent 8 is crushing on Agent 3 hard and doesn't know how to confess to her. She then comes up with an idea to make use her poetry skills. But she might need some help??
A/N: I got...Really, really into this. I want to thank my lovely datefriend for helping me tho! They even wrote the poem and rewrote a few parts for me!! They have a fic on AO3 that you should totally read if you like my stuff, I’m just sayin...
Anyways, if you enjoyed this please reblog it and give it a kudos on AO3! And feedback is always appreciated! ♥ 
“Aww, Eight, that’s called a crush! You have a crush on Agent Three!”
“A… Crush? But I don’t want to crush her!” Agent Eight squeaked.
Pearl peaked her head into the living room where Eight was having a conversation with Marina.
“Not literally, Eight,” The inkling put a tray of drinks on the coffee table, “It means you’re in looooveee~”
Pearl’s teasing made Eight blush and turn away, despite not really knowing what she meant.
“Pearlie! Don’t tease her, she’s having a hard time…”
“W-what does crushing someone have to do with love? O-of course I love Agent Three, but I don’t…”
Marina cracked a smile and Pearl snorted.
“Oh, Eight, sweetie,” Marina put a hand on the younger girl’s shoulder, who lifted her head. “A different kind of love. You know how Pearl and I are?”
“Well uh, yeah…But ‘Ree and I are already kinda like that, so-”
Pearl took a seat next to her girlfriend, grinning wide. “Nah nah, you two are nothin’ compared to us—“ Marina elbowed Pearl’s side, “Er, I mean. Think of those cheesy movies you watch all the time. The ones with the kissing.”
Eight’s eyes widened and her face turned a bright shade of red, making Pearl break into a fit of laughter.
“I- Well I wouldn’t, I mean, I kinda want to, but I don’t…” Eight sputtered.
Marina giggled. “You should tell her. Sounds like you’ve felt like this for a long time.”
Eight buried her face in her hands. “B-But…”
Pearl’s laughter stopped abruptly, and she cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure she feels the same way, kid.”
Eight peaked through her fingers. “Really? You think she would?”
“Oh, Eight, you have no idea. She looks at you like you’re the most beautiful cephalopod in the universe!” Marina said, clasping her hands together dramatically. “But we won’t force you to do something if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“But,” Pearl interjected, “Ya never know if another girl might just… Swoop right in, and take her.”
Eight lowered her hands and avoided eye contact with both of them, attempting to register what she was feeling and what she should do.
“Well uhm… What should I try to do then?”
Eight stayed up all night, brainstorming and writing all her feelings down. She woke up in an uncomfortable position on her desk, drooling on a notebook and paper.
She paused for a moment, looking out the window beside her. The sun was just rising and the sky was an orange-pink colour. When she realized what she was doing, she leaned back and stretched with a loud yawn. She then collected her scattered belongings on her desk.
In front of her was a piece of pink, cutesy expensive looking stock paper.
Scribbled on it was cursive inklish, accompanied by small doodles of an octopus and a squid surrounded by hearts and stars.
The octoling smiled to herself as she read it:
Yellow is what I saw when I came here,
It was the welcoming sun when I found my freedom
Yellow is in your eyes when you’re near
You make my heart beat quite like a drum
My heart unsteady, will I be ready?
To be in your arms, when the time comes
When I’m with you, I always feel steady
There’s a pull on my heartstrings, a melody strums
Normally, the girl had a talent for conjuring poems on a whim. She would take her journal almost everywhere she went, and wrote short poems about things she saw in Inkopolis or whatever was on her mind. But this poem wasn’t exactly like the others - it had to be perfect; she had to put her hearts into it and everything. Eight found herself staying up until 4 am in order to achieve this.
Agent Eight read it over and over in her head, rewriting it countless times in order for it to meet her standards. She read it out loud, adding in extra words or taking a few out. She tried to incorporate more rhymes but a few of them fell flat. Finally, she wrote one that she loved best.
Despite that, she felt a lump in her throat and her stomach twist in knots.
What would Agent Three think of it?
Would she even like it? Would she understand it? Is it not straightforward enough? Maybe she should add more hearts — or perhaps a flower or two. But what if Agent Three understood it and didn’t like it?
What if she ended up hating her or thinks she’s disgusting?
The octoling shook her head and pushed the negative thoughts away. She had to try at the very least. She was terrified, but she still had a chance according to Pearl — and Pearl always gave her good advice.
Pushing herself away from the desk, she set off to do her morning routine and text Agent Three (even if it did take her almost half an hour to press the send button), asking her if she would like to practice aiming in a private battle today.
She received a reply rather quickly, something she didn’t expect as Agent Three isn’t normally awake for another few hours. Eight wondered if this meant she pulled an all nighter again. She made a mental note to pester Three about this later.
She opened her messenger to reply to her friend.
E 7:23AM: Good morning! If you are not busy, do you want to play target practice in a private battle this afternoon? 🐙🔫
T 7:56AM: why is the octopus pointing the gun at herself
T 7:56AM: who gave her that anyways
T 7:57AM: thats dangerous
E 7:59AM: She’s holding it, silly. She wants to practice, too! 💪🏻🐙
T 8:01AM: o ok
T 8:01AM: what a determined octopus
T 8:01AM: determinpus
E 8:02AM: ? I don’t get it.
T 8:05AM: …
E 8:06AM: Oh! I get it now! lol!!!!
E 8:06AM: She is a determined octopus! You mixed the words together. You’re so clever. 😙
T 8:06AM: aaa
T 8:07AM: yes
T 8:07AM: anyways sure we can pb
E 8:10AM: Yay! What time? 🐙⏱
T 8:13AM: is an hour from now ok
T 8:13AM: i might turf after so
E 8:15AM: Yes, yess ! See you there! 🐙♥️
When Agent Eight closed her phone’s messenger app, she lifted a hand to find her cheeks burning and sore from blushing. Agent Three is just too cute and she felt so lucky. Everyone else found the inkling to be silent and intimidating, but in reality she was a huge softie that only a select few people got to see.
And she happened to be one of those select few.
Agent Three impatiently checked her watch as she waited outside the private battle lobby she reserved almost 10 minutes ago. In one hand was a suitcase containing her charger gear, and next to her feet was a duffel bag full of different outfits she thought would be useful.
It had been over an hour since her octoling friend asked to meet her there. She checked her messages and the time again. No, Three was on time. Why was Eight so late?
A bead of sweat dripped down the inkling’s cheek. The octoling was never late, and she was sure there was a logical reason for her to be this time, but what if —
“‘Ree!” Three heard from behind her, making her ears perk. Just before she could turn around, she felt warm arms wrap around her torso from behind. For a moment she stiffened, but as soon as she registered who was behind her her body relaxed.
“Ree, goodness, I’m so sorry I’m late!” Eight said, leaning back to look at Three – who had now turned her head to face Eight – but still holding onto her. She really had no sense of personal space.
“It… It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” With gentle hands, she grasped the octoling’s arms and free’d herself from the other’s grip easily. She swore she heard the other whine, though. “What happened? You’re usually early.”
“Oh, well I, ah,” Eight’s tentacles moved inwards and outwards, like they were trying to grab onto something as she spoke. “I got a little sidetracked after strolling past the new stores downtown! There was a comely little antique shop next to the new confectionery and —“ Realizing she was beginning to ramble and use words the inkling doesn’t seem to know, she slowed down. “I just got a little distracted is all, haha.”
“I see,” was all Three managed to comment. Eight’s rambling was absolutely adorable to her, especially when she got excited, so she really didn’t mind. “Do you want me to set it up?”
“Oh, right, yes, of course!”
The two stepped forward to the lobby’s station, with Three setting the battle up using a tablet beside the door.
“Do you want to play target first?” Three asked as she looked for a decent map, eventually settling for Sturgeon Shipyard. Their target practices considered of one person playing “target” on the alpha team, using a brush to zip around the map while the player on bravo tried to splat them with a charger.
“I always play target first,” Eight replied, followed by a giggle, “I want to snipe first this time.”
“Alright, then. Let’s get started.”
The two of them played for over an hour and it was clear they were both getting rather tired.
Eight was winning the nonexistent competition so far, getting almost 20 splats on Three every time it was her turn. It was a bit unfair, really — she had always been good with a charger, and she certainly knew how to use an e-litre.
Three, on the other hand, was clearly struggling and needed this practice far more than the octoling did. She was used to only really using one type of weapon: a standard splattershot, or maybe her heroshot. While she was talented with those weapons, she found herself fumbling with the charger and having difficulties holding it correctly.
The inkling was getting frustrated, and Eight had to make a move soon before the other called it a day.
But she had an idea. It was a mischievous one, sure, but she knew she could get a few giggles out of Three if she did it and initiated her plan at the same time.
Eight smirked to herself, slamming her inkbrush down in front of her and running just outside of the charger’s range. She stifled a giggle when she heard the inkling jump down from her perch to pursue her, not actually expecting Three to take the bait.
She ducked behind a wall on her side of the map, not bothering to hide in her ink. She had a death grip on her inkbrush, her hands sweating and shaking. Her plan was starting to seem like less of a good idea now, and all the potential negative outcomes flowed through her mind. She was so confident a moment ago, why was she now so afraid? She couldn’t wrap her head around her own emotions, but she knew she was starting to doubt herself. Despite this, she decided to ignore the rampant thoughts.
Eight took a deep breath and peeked over the wall. Three was in the middle of the map, aiming opposite of Eight’s position. She couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, Three looked so silly — she was supposed to be one of the strongest inklings in existence, yet she was completely unaware of her surroundings despite her serious, concentrated demeanour.
Of course, she still heard the octoling and spun around to shoot. Fortunately, she missed. Eight used this as a time to strike and ran zipped towards the inkling, zig-zagging away from her attempted shots.
She turned quickly and circled the other agent, once, twice, three times before slipping something in her pocket and darting away. She didn’t get very far before she felt a concentrated shot on her back and the world going black — and when she opened her eyes, she had respawned on the other side of the map.
Shaking off excess ink, Eight laughed nervously and ran back towards the middle.
“‘Ree, good job! You finally got me!” Eight giggled.
Eight’s heart stopped when she saw Agent Three standing still. Upon looking closer, she realized Three was already reading her note. She dropped her inkbrush and slowly approached the inkling, her feet like concrete and her heart beating in her ears. She could feel her arms shaking rapidly as butterflies formed in her stomach and flew all the way into her chest.
“Um… Three?” She squeaked as she finally stood close enough to her.
“Eight, what is this?” Three asked. The inkling seemed mildly confused as she gazed at the note, straightening it with her hands.
“Oh, ah, well, you see…” Eight stammered. Her tentacles began to contract rapidly as she searched for words to say, struggling as she did so. “You’re really important to me so, I thought maybe, I could—“
“It’s really nice.”
“—I could make something for you and — oh! It… It is?” Eight felt a wave of multiple emotions flow course through her body. She was relieved that the inkling didn’t seem upset, but she also had trouble figuring out just how the other may feel as well, bringing her a sense of excitement and fear to what Agent Three might say.
“Does this mean that you, uh…” Eight mumbled, trying to figure out Three’s thoughts.
“Well, it’s a pretty poem,” Three nodded. “You’re always so good with these. I don’t know if I really get it, but the little drawings are really cute.“
Eight’s hearts sank again.
She didn’t… understand it? Even with the pink cardstock, stickers, and little doodles she drew on it?
Eight felt like she was going to cry, but instead she took a deep breath.
“I uhm, Three…” She began, gently pushing the card out of Three’s focus. She made direct eye contact and felt her face heat up. If she wanted to get the message through, then perhaps she’d have to be straightforward. “I wrote it because I-I…”
She looked away and fumbled with the hem of her shirt. This was harder than she expected. Eight felt like there was something caught in her throat, unable to escape.
Suddenly she felt something warm touch her hands. When she looked down, Three had put her hands in hers. “Eight, are you okay?”
The octoling bit her bottom lip and looked back up, not exactly making eye contact this time but still keeping her attention focused on the agent.
“I have a crush on you, Agent Three. I really, really like you.”
Three’s eyes widened and Eight noticed her cheeks begin to flush red. She saw surprise, fear, and excitement shine through the other all at once. She wanted to back away and hide, and she attempted to do so, but Three gave her hands a reassuring squeeze.
Seconds passed, but they felt like years. Neither knew what to say or how to react, all they knew was that the air around them felt different, and now things were different.
Three was the first to break the silence, mumbling something Eight couldn’t hear.
“What was that?” She said, just above a whisper.
“I have…a crush on you, too.” Three repeated, looking away as her face turned a bright red.
Eight smiled. She smiled almost as big as she did when she first reached the surface. The inkling felt the same way, she didn’t think she was weird, she liked her too and now…
“That makes me so happy,” the octoling whispered, leaning her head onto the other’s. Three didn’t flinch or lean back, welcoming the act. She could feel the inkling’s nervous breath on her face. “You make me so happy.”
Three was overwhelmed with emotions. She wanted to play it cool, to act tough and not embarrass herself. But in reality, she wanted to skip and jump for joy.
“Wh-What now?” Three said.
“Well, uhm,” Eight’s eyes fell onto Three’s lips. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”
“You don’t need to ask,” Three smiled.
Eight found herself giggling, heat rising to her chest. She pulled Agent Three closer to her, closing the gap between both of them as they stared into each others eyes. Agent Three’s yellow reminded Eight of the sunset, warm and welcoming like when she first set foot in Inkopolis. And through Three’s eyes, Eight could tell she was trying to mask her shyness to no avail, making her heart swell with how cute the inkling was. It was just a few moments that they stared into each others eyes with hesitation, until Eight leaned in closer and finally pressed her lips against Three’s.
The kiss was a little awkward, but Eight could feel her heart bursting like a blaster shot. Even though their teeth clashed together and the kiss was overall messy (causing both of them to giggle), it was unlike anything the cephalopods have ever experienced before in their lives.
223 notes · View notes
rhgdvx · 6 years
Text
otwtm [i]
toc
--
i
Yoongi sat down on his favorite place in the same café he's been going to for years. It was four in the morning, but sleep doesn't seem like a good idea so he chose to go to this place anyway, wondering about the same night... thinking about the same person...
He took a long, satisfying sip from his Americano and sighed a little as he flipped the made-shift book given to him by the only person to love him like that. He started to read, again, the pages she made out of his request, wondering if he could get another chance to rewrite those words.
'Min Yoongi could not love' The story began with such cruel start but he didn't mind it and just went on.
I have been thinking about that thought every now and then. Of course, I knew it right from the start: That he could never see me more than a fan. That he could always say 'I love you, ARMY!' but never he could say an 'I love you' addressed to me. What am I really thinking and hoping for? It's impossible, of course. I knew it right from the start.
Still though, I thought of him as a reachable star.
Efforts were given. I attended their fan signs, I cheered for them in concerts, I pulled all-nighters for every fangirl duty and I loved Bangtan with every bit of me. Funny, because I don't really put so much effort on things that won't give something back. I think stanning them really brought out the weird side of me;
And loving Yoongi made me hope for something that is beyond unreachable.
'I cannot love him any deeper. I shall not love him any deeper.', I repeatedly told myself at times when he's just so... extra? He's a good person, and he's great with his things. Who wouldn't get attracted to such a wonderful man?
I'll just get hurt. Yes, I know. I'm always seeing him and my heart doesn't seem to understand the wall separating fans from idols. Yes, I hope there's a chance but I know there is none. I'm just another stupid dot in a sea of million. Okay, maybe not stupid, just a little bit crazy but still a dot.
So, I settled down. Keeping my schedule tight just to refrain from spending it with them. Cruel? Yes. There are several fans who might call me fake, those who feel so useful that they put their fingers on anything; But do they know how much I desire? Do they know me? Do they know that every single time I look at him, I could only sigh because no matter how hard I yearn for him, we just cannot be? It is the kind of thing that a 'Nothing is impossible' is possible.
He's close to me but I cannot have him for my own good. Yes, I am not satisfied. I am not that kind of woman. So I settled down. I became fine.
Whenever he sees me, he waves at me like we're old friends. He shows his gummy smiles, he talks to me in a lighter way than how he does with others, or maybe that's what I have observed because of this wonderful mind of mine. Call me crazy in love, but I could feel that he's happy whenever he sees me in sight. I know it's bonkers but I'm not that stupid so I tried not to expect anything. I was fine, but then the day came when he talked to me weirder than the usual.
"Miracle," My heart fluttered as he said my name, what's new. As he mindlessly doodled at the album I bought, I just stared at him. "How do you find yourself when you're so lost?" 
I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "I don't... uh... understand?"
"I mean; how could we fix ourselves from being broken?" He said, still doodling at my album.
Yoongi looked like he's not in his usual self. It seems like his mind is drifting so I answered him with the best sentence I could come up with at the moment. "A wound takes time to heal but time isn't enough. We should take care and protect the wound, too, so that it won't get any worse."
"How about seeking help from others?" He lifted his head and I was taken aback by the emotion in his eyes. "Isn't that what people do? Let others fix them because they can't?"
I looked away for a moment. "Depends on the situation, Yoongi."
He smiled, and so did I.
I thanked him and moved to the next member as normally as I could. After years of doing this, I could see it. I could confirm it; He's hurt. Something is hurting him emotionally. I could clearly see it in his eyes.
He's hurt, and so I am.
Perks of loving.
That night, I did not update my followers on Twitter with what happened on the fan sign. I am still winded by what happened. That's a first of that situation and I am worried about him.
I saw some friends talk about how weird Yoongi is and I wonder if they felt the same way I did when Yoongi looked at me. Of course, we love Bangtan and with them hurting, we are hurt too. And since Yoongi is more special to me, the ache was stingier. I love him, I love him though I don't think everything he shows is the real him. Drastically, though I settled my feelings down, there is definitely a part in my heart that still wishes for him.
Before I went to bed, I took the album from my messy bag and opened it. I should at least review what they wrote on my sticky notes, just for my sanity's sake. I browsed it as fast as I could since I have to sleep and work tomorrow morning and I don't really want to do it. Namjoon, the brain monster, of course said something wise as if implying that I should take a break because I asked them what should I do nowadays because I'm bored. The others said something goofy and fun... Hoseok even said that I should just go to sleep and eat a lot. Maybe that's what he does. Jungkook said 'Noona should love us more' and I don't know what he means. My mood was eventually getting lighter when I came to the page where Yoongi doodled and my emotion sank back. I purposely left this page out but I can't seem to control myself when it comes to him.
I swallowed hard because I could feel him aching by just seeing the random things he wrote and drew on the page. His bad handwriting became worse and these lines doesn't look like they mean something. I traced the heart he drew on my sticky note. It looks like it's broken, though it isn't. The face he drew on the left corner looks so tired. The whole page shouts something painful. It shouts what he feels. I sighed at the scribbles and tried figure some words out.
'Bye, bye, bye'
'Miracle, talk to MYGSyub'
'Please'
I raised an eyebrow to his answer. A random thought is telling me to see if that is a username or something. Or maybe I'm just hallucinating? Geez. I've developed several senses just by stanning Bangtan.
I hesitantly reached for my phone and opened apps that could possibly help me. I'm not sure; I can't be sure. On Twitter, I found one with that username but it looks like she's a fangirl from the other side of the world. I kind of read her tweets but they're mostly on her language so I doubt it. Next one is Kakao where I also found an account with that username. I added it, of course, hoping it was Yoongi. I messaged the account a simple 'Hello' and then looked through other apps.
Moments later, my phone notified me that someone messaged me... on Kakao.
MYGSyub: Miracle?
My heart went wild. Is this really Min Yoongi?
'Is this Yoongi?' I hastily typed.
MYGSyub: Unfortunately, it is.
'Uh. I won't talk about this.'
MYGSyub: I know.
WAIT. IS THIS REAL!? I wanted to cry and celebrate because I just got my bias' Kakao ID! And it seems like he really wanted me to know it. My fangirl heart is celebrating and I can't control it! Wait up. Does he know about my feelings? I held my chest and tried to calm myself but I can't. He messaged me again, asking how I am. Of course I replied right away. We chatted. We talked but it wasn't that warm, unlike the other fan signs.
Then after a while he asked if he could see me.
'Ha. Are you really Min Yoongi?'
MYGSyub: (photo) I said unfortunately, I really am Min Yoongi
OH MY... FU-Did he just take a picture and-My heart stopped. Min Yoongi why are you doing this!
'When?'
MYGSyub: 4 am?
'Where?'
MYGSyub: Send me your address... I'll drop by.
My eyes widened. 'Wait. Are you really Yoongi?'
MYGSyub: I already said I am Yoongi. Look, I am wearing the beanie you gave. (photo)
I almost shouted by the sight of his photo. He really is wearing the beanie I gave! Oh my goodness. How could this... possibly happen? Am I dreaming?
Geez.
Setting aside all frustrations and doubts, I chatted with him again like we're platonic friends and we agreed to meet tomorrow morning, at 4 am. Too early, but who cares?
Since the idea of him being here at 4 am did not seem like a nice one, we agreed to meet in a coffee shop near my place. And since I was eager to feed my expectations and assumptions, I went here 15 minutes early. He picked such a weird and perfect time because the ambiance is very, very serene due to small amount of customers. I sighed. If I am dreaming, I just want to wake up. This is not healthy.
I saw him outside a few minutes later, walking slowly as if feeling every step. He looked so fluffy with the knitted gray scarf around his neck and the cute expression plastered on his face. He was wearing a plain black sweater and jeans (like what I saw in his picture) together with black rubber shoes. And yes, he's wearing the white beanie I gave. The moment he stepped in the coffee shop, my world stopped. I could feel my heart beating rapidly but I couldn't even move a little to release my unhealthy emotion. Is this a dream? Please wake me up already, I know I'll wake up, anyway. Don't prolong my agony.
"Miracle." He smiled at me as he sat down. We ordered two Americanos since he said it's up to me. Good him, he paid for it.
Silence, that is what he gave me for approximately five minutes. I was scared to talk to him, afraid he might just fade away because I very well know this is just a dream. Or not? I couldn't even feel my own body. It feels like I'm just a soul in front of the man whom I wished to be my soulmate.
"Why?" I dared to ask so the silence won't grow any more unpleasant.
"I-I... I don't know."
"You asked a fan to meet you at this time and you do not know?" I calmly said, casually teasing him but it did not seem to reach him, or maybe I'm just not fun to be with.
"I know you." He said and he earned a funny face from me, which I did not mean to do. "C'mon, I've seen you a lot of times."
"So you... like, judged me?"
He took a sip of his coffee and he answered. "It's inevitable. You can't just look at people without even thinking if they are like this or that."
"I could." I said, though I know he is kinda right.
"It doesn't work for me, I like observing." He slyly smiled.
"So are you saying you have an idea of me?"
"You've come to events to support us since 2013, right?" I was allured when he looked at me then smiled. "Yes I've judged you, as you have put it."
"Is that supposed to insult me or not because I am kind of glad that an idol is keeping an eye on a fan." I said and he sniggered. Oh, he's so cute.
"You're happy about it."
When he spoke again, that's when I realized I should've not said the latter part. "Yep." I stared at my Americano awkwardly.
"Actually," I looked at him when he spoke again, confused with his business. "The reason I tried to talk to you like this is because I think... Well I think you could..." He stared at me for a moment then he lowered his head. I don't know what's happening because it's the first time I heard him unsure. "You could probably help?" He whispered, shy of the statement but I don't really get it.
"Help you where?"
He stared at me again as if reading me, then he awkwardly laughed. "I... I have a... a... close friend,"
The time those words came out of his mouth, I knew he was lying. It's obvious. The person he is referring to isn't just a close friend. You won't speak like that if that was really just a friend.
"Hmm?" I looked away. I could feel it; He's talking about a girl.
"She..." Oh, I'm right. I urged him to continue. "She just died."
Shocked by the statement, I quickly threw my attitude aside. I thought it was something else. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah."
We both fell silent. I finished my cup without looking at him. It's not that I am hurt because he's cherishing someone, I just cannot look at him with that pain clearly shown in his eyes. They're emitting sadness and I'm absorbing it. I did not ask however; I want to hear everything from him.
"Do you want to take a walk?" I suggested and he did not bother answering. He just stood up and gently held me by my wrist. I was surprised, of course, and I could feel something travelling from his grip to my spine. My heart was thumping louder than before to the point I want to hold my chest; Afraid he could feel it. Yoongi doesn't seem to be bothered so I shook the same feeling off. I don't want to be awkward with him.
When we came out on the street, he still did not let go. I do not know if I should feel jubilant. He held my hand before and we have talked before. He knows me, I know him, but something is very different. Like something is commanding me to feel special because what's happening right now is special.
"You're weird." I said after our long moment of silence. "Don't you think this is awkward, and... wrong?"
For goodness' sake, I'm just a fan who is fortunately with her bias right now, and listening to his aches. I'm currently not a dot, right?
"I don't feel like it's wrong." He said, I think I blushed. Well, he is Min Yoongi, the man who does not give a shit. I'm trying to control my emotions for his sake but I think this will be a hell of a headache.
"Why?" I asked though I am not curious to the answer.
"I could see her in you." He said in a low voice. "Every single time."
Ah. That hurt.
"Is she pretty too?" I joked, trying to hide the pain from him.
"Both of you are." He willingly answered. I think I'm good with hiding my emotions because he doesn't seem to be bothered.
"Is she really like me?"
He appeared to be thinking really deep, then he answered with a grin. "The first time I saw you, I thought you're her."
So this man knew our resemblance since 2013. "But then?"
"But then she appeared and I thought you were twins."
"But?"
He laughed. Though it was weak, he still laughed! "She's questioning everything, too."
"Who? The woman who left?" Those words came out of my mouth so easily. Again, I regretted saying it. He slowed down his pace and then he halted. He was just laughing a moment ago, now he is back to being pained and miserable. Is it my mistake?
I wanted to apologize and explain that it's just when you're happy, words come out so easily, but I don't think that's acceptable because he said his situation yet I let my selfish feeling take control.
"She died yesterday, Miracle. She was in coma, then her body gave up." He said, pain clearly etched in his voice. He closed his eyes to prevent tears but his heart is too pained. His grip on my wrist became weaker and weaker until he let his hand drop.
I remained silent. I want to know but I do not want to get hurt. I want him to release his pain and emotion but I do not know if I could listen and be his comfort. I love him, too. And he's talking about someone he loved for long.
"After the accident last year, her family told me to move on, but I couldn't." He explained, this time with a calmer voice.
"Because I remind you of her." I said, calmly, too, though my heart is aching. Is that why I've been receiving special treatment from him?
"Yeah." He turned his head to look away.
"Is that the reason," My voice broke, so I swallowed hard before I continued. "...why I am here with you? Because..." I trailed off but I continued anyway. "Because I remind you of her?"
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine." I tried not to mix my statement with any sarcasm but I know he's fully aware that he just hurt me too.
"This is not fine."
I bitterly laughed. "I do not know if you are using me to forget her death, or you are using me because you do not want to forget her."
Using? No. He just used me ever since to replay the ghost of his memories. He used me for his own good. He unwarily played with my feelings because he's loving someone that is never me.
And with him meeting me like this, I very well know what he wants to happen. No, I wouldn't allow that. I badly want him, but I want him to love me, too, deep inside.
I want to yell at him and make him more miserable for making me feel like this. I don't know why I am so hurt. I want to strangle him because I was fine. I was fine but he came to me once more just to make me feel this pain that I know I shouldn't deserve. I just loved him. What kind of shit is this? A miserable prize for devoting yourself to someone you think you know. What the hell.
"Miracle..."
"Yoongi," I bit my lips. "Did you ever see me as I am?"
He did not answer so I spoke again. It was hard but I managed to speak those words. "I am sorry but I could not help. I may be like her but I am not her, Yoongi."
Am I being selfish? I just don't want to get hurt but here I am, being torn choosing between myself and helping him in the way he wanted. But I do not know why I should help him, to forget or to remind him of that girl.
"It's my bad, too. I'm sorry." He sincerely said though he can't look at me.
"Supposedly, you should be the one pouring out a lot of emotion since she died... but..." I looked away and awkwardly patted him at the back. "I... I do... I love you too." The tears that I was holding dropped on my cheeks. "But I want you to love me because I am Miracle."
We fell into silence once again, and after a few minutes. we decided to separate our ways. Sorry if I am not a martyr, Yoongi.
'Min Yoongi could not love me... because he's loving someone else.'
I completed the sentence. It's not that he can't, he just can't if it's someone else.
The man sniggered a little as he kept his tears to himself.
"Silly, I love you so much." He closed his eyes and imagined her sitting in front of him; Both of them wondering about the same night... Thinking about the same scenes, with hearts aimed for the same future.
A bitter smile came across his lips as he fought the urge to just fall into pieces.
"Ahh... my Miracle."
--
ii
2 notes · View notes
17mounteens · 7 years
Note
Hi^^ wow the stories are really good, i really enjoy itㅠㅠ can i requst too? A session in the class, you as a student and wonwoo as a teacher. I seriously cant get over him with that glasses omg he looks smart yet hot :""""
I might have overdone the build-up a little BUT I FELT LIKE THIS NEEDED IT. also I agree with Wonwoo in glasses omg now that is a look!
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» 5,033 words
”W-Wonwoo, ah–”
As your alarm started ringing, your eyes shot wide open, and you were immediately painfully aware of the wetness pooling between your legs as well as the dream you had just had, and the memory only increased the heat in the pit of your stomach, and you winced when you got out of your bed.
“I can’t believe I just,” you mumbled, half-asleep, while turning your alarm off, the pulsation of your pussy clouding your thoughts. You swallowed, trying to think about everything but the dream you had just woken up from. Shivering, you shook your head. “Thank god I don’t have his lessons today.”
You went on about your morning as per usual, but you were unable to get your thoughts off the handsome - hot, actually - substitute teacher who had been teaching you literature for the past three months and would continue until the end of the school year, which was still a few months away.
From early on you had found him attractive, with his sharp eyes and rare yet incredibly cute smile, and it hardly helped that he was fairly young, too, and treated each of his students kindly. Sure, you had played with different lewd thoughts before, but you could never have even thought that you’d one day see a wet dream about him.
The worst part was that you weren’t bothered by it, really, and were instead mostly frustrated because the dream was so damn good and left you annoyingly horny: not even a cool shower before heading to school eased it.
Gritting your teeth, you left to school and checked your schedule on your way. When you realized what day it was, however, you froze.
8:05 - 9:00 : Literature
“First thing in the morning?” you whispered to yourself, frowning, and continued walking with your heart beating fast in your chest.
Of course you had mixed up the days - fate just wasn’t on your side.
You got to school, got your books from your locker and went to class, fidgeting in your seat as you waited for Wonwoo to come in.
And when he did, you couldn’t even look at him without remembering your dream.
“Good morning, everyone,” Wonwoo greeted the class and closed the door behind himself, after which he walked to his desk and put his bag down. His lips curved into a smile when he saw at least half of the class yawning. “I’m sure you’re all very excited for this lesson.”
“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” most of the class said in unison, none of it coming from the heart, but Wonwoo took what he could get.
He scanned the classroom and quirked his eyebrow a little when he saw you, your hand covering your eyes so that he couldn’t see them as you stared at your notebook and doodled in it.
“Y/N, what about you?” he asked, his voice steady and the slightest bit husky, which went straight between your legs, especially with the memory of the previous night.
You jolted a little, and without raising your gaze to him, waved your hand in the air, signaling that you were fine. “Yes, yes, perfectly!”
Wonwoo squinted his eyes momentarily, but decided to let it go. It was very unlike you to not look at him - normally you wouldn’t have let any opportunity to look at him pass by, much less any opportunity to look into his eyes.
Regardless, Wonwoo went about the lesson like he always did, but he found his attention drifting to you more and more as you continued avoiding his gaze. It might’ve been partially because he had found you attractive for a while and knew just how much time you spent admiring him during his lessons, but he was also genuinely concerned about what had happened to bring about the sudden change.
“Alright, the class is over,” Wonwoo announced when the clock had, in your thoughts finally, reached 8:59, and watched all of you get up and leave the classroom one by one.
You packed your bag quickly and left the classroom quietly, which again made Wonwoo quirk his eyebrow a little. What had happened to your usual, cheerful “Bye”?
As soon as you were out of the classroom, you let out a sigh of relief. If it hadn’t been the most painful lesson of your life, you didn’t know what was.
The rest of the day was much easier to get through, with your friends effectively bringing your thoughts elsewhere and the lessons, some of which you enjoyed and some of which you dreaded, keeping you too busy to think about the painfully attractive substitute teacher or the wet dream you had had.
When the afternoon rolled by, however, you faced another problem.
“Oh, Mrs. Lee isn’t here today,” one of your friends mumbled when you were seated in your classroom, waiting for your English lesson to start. You hummed.
“Who’s going to teach us, then?” you pondered curiously, and your friend shrugged.
“That would be me.”
Shivers ran down your spine as you slowly turned to look at the door, where Wonwoo stood with a small smile on his face.
You could hardly keep a wince off your face. ’Really? The first and the last lesson of the day?’
Wonwoo took note of your expression and shook his head in amusement as he assumed his position at the front of the classroom and began holding the lesson according to the notes that Mrs. Lee had given him. It was mostly individual work, so you didn’t really mind, and were mostly immersed in your book and assignments that you were doing.
However, it being individual work for the students meant that Wonwoo had a bunch of time in his hands, during which he checked some of the essays he had to grade, although he also spent a fair amount of time looking at you.
He just couldn’t wrap his finger around what was up with you. You were normally fairly active in his lessons, which he enjoyed, but that day you were everything but that.
If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed you were purposefully avoiding him.
Amidst your assignment, you slowly moved your gaze up to Wonwoo, hoping to see him focusing on his own work, just so that you could appreciate his looks for a while.
Yet instead, you were met with his eyes, staring intently right back at you.
Your eyes widened, and you hurried to return to your assignment, but dropped your pen in the process, cursing in your mind as you picked it up from the floor. As if you hadn’t been a mess for the whole damn day, the eye contact truly messed you up to the core.
Wonwoo stared at you curiously, chuckling a little at how embarrassed you seemed. Something was up, and he’d make it his goal to figure out what.
It felt like the lesson ended surprisingly soon, and you were about to stand up and leave when Wonwoo spoke. “Actually, Y/N, could you stay for a bit?”
You froze, and without even looking his way, nodded slowly.
You were screwed.
The others left the classroom one by one, and when the last student had left, Wonwoo went to close the door, which he then leaned against as he looked at you, now seated back in your chair.
“So, would you like to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft yet husky, and looked at you warmly. Your cheeks heated up, and you shook your head while pursing your lips.
“N-nothing is wrong,” you said, painfully aware of just how unconvincing you sounded.
Wonwoo hummed and started walking to his desk, where he began packing his bag. “You’re not like you usually are. Something’s going on.”
“I promise it’s nothing,” you assured with a nervous laugh, shaking your head a little again. Wonwoo squinted and placed his hands on the desk in front of him, leaning forward a little.
“Then why can’t you look into my eyes?”
’Because last night I had a dream where you fucked me into oblivion while staring into my eyes.’
“T-that’s…” your words trailed off at the memory of your dream, and you could feel the familiar heat starting to pool at the pit of your stomach as you remembered it all. Your heart beat fast in your chest, and even Wonwoo could see how nervous you were getting.
He squinted a little. “Yes?”
You were quiet, and so Wonwoo began taking small steps towards you. “Does it have to do with the way you look at me?” Your eyes widened at his bold question, and finally you looked at him, sinfully good-looking with the suit he had on, the round glasses only making him more smart-looking and attractive. Wonwoo chuckled quietly. “No, I haven’t missed the way you look at me. But why is it?”
A part of you wanted to hit him, although only lightly, because you could’ve sworn he knew the answer. With him walking closer to you all the while, you finally sighed, too weak to continue fighting. “Because you’re hot.”
He stopped in his tracks, right by your desk, and processed your words. His lips curved upwards while you wanted nothing more than to hide under a rock.
“Hot?” he asked, slightly amused, and took a seat on the desk in front of yours. “Y/N, I’m your teacher.”
“I know,” you grumbled and hid your face a little in embarrassment, feeling just how hot your cheeks were. “Do you think I haven’t told that to myself at least a million times?”
Wonwoo looked at you warmly and shook his head in amusement. “If it helps, I’ve had to remind myself quite a few times, too.”
Your eyebrows rose in surprise, and you lowered your hands slowly, moving your gaze to Wonwoo. He was smiling a little, and your voice was quiet as you spoke. “…What?”
“I’ve had to remind myself that you’re my student,” he said, sounding the slightest bit nervous but also calm, and it all only made your heart beat faster.
“But why?” you asked quietly, too mesmerized by Wonwoo’s sharp, dark eyes to look away anymore.
You were hooked.
He chuckled lowly. “Probably for the same reason you have.”
Swallowing hard, you nodded. Wonwoo sighed.
“But I am your teacher. I don’t want to use my position wrongly,” he said slowly, and his smile got a bitter hint to it.
You found yourself almost pouting a little. “Would it be using your position wrongly if I wanted it?”
Wonwoo’s Adam’s apple bobbed quickly, and he cleared his throat. He wanted to be sure he wasn’t misunderstanding anything. “Wanted what?”
Blood rushed to your cheeks as you averted your gaze. “…Never mind.”
“Y/N,” Wonwoo began, and you slowly moved your eyes back to his, and were now faced with his slightly hooded ones. “Do you want me?”
The nod of your head was almost automatic, and it scared you. But you were tired of lying, tired of fighting against your desires, especially when it seemed that he felt the same way.
Wonwoo looked slightly troubled. “It’s still ethically questionable…”
“But I’m over 18,” you reminded him, barely even in control of yourself anymore, and gave him a meaningful look. “It would be against the school rules, but I’m still an adult.”
He nodded and bit down on his lower lip, allowing his eyes to scan your body, as if he hadn’t been thinking and dreaming about it enough already.
Wonwoo got up from the desk and got closer to yours, and you found yourself standing up, too, your heart beating fast. The suspense was turning you on fast, and you could already feel your nipples hardening and your pussy getting wet with anticipation.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Wonwoo asked, his voice low as he stood right in front of you, looking into your eyes yet not daring to touch you.
You swallowed and nodded. “I need you, Mr–”
“Just call me Wonwoo,” he interrupted you and chuckled, his eyes playful as he looked into yours. “Mr. Jeon is too… formal.”
“Wonwoo, then,” you giggled and bit down on your lower lip and slowly slid your hands up your school uniform shirt. “But it still stands that I need you.”
He watched your hands move, and by the time one of your hands reached your breast, he was a goner.
Placing his hands on your hips, Wonwoo breathed heavily and pulled you a bit closer. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to.”
Intoxicated by his closeness after all the hours you had spent wanting to experience it, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your voice merely a breath when you spoke. “I want it all, and if it does get too much, I’ll tell you. That way we’ll both be happy, won’t we?”
“I don’t want this to be something you’ll regret later,” he said quietly, already leaning down a little until his nose was brushing against yours. “Are you sure, Y/N?”
Your breath nearly hitched in your throat with how close Wonwoo was and how awfully tempting his lips were, so close to yours. “I’m sure.”
With that, you leaned up to bring your lips together for a kiss that sent tingles down your spine, and as Wonwoo’s tongue danced with yours daringly, the only thought in your mind was that wow, you were really doing it, kissing Wonwoo, and about to make your wet dream come true.
You got up on your desk and Wonwoo stood between your legs, his hands holding your bare thighs as you continued kissing passionately, your hands moving up to his hair and down to his shoulders, broad and attractive yet unfortunately covered by the white dress shirt he was wearing.
The kisses were hungry and needy, and if those weren’t enough to tell both of you how badly you wanted each other, then the way you were touching each other did. Wonwoo’s hands moved up and down your thighs, sliding underneath your uniform skirt and nearly under the thin fabric of your panties, and your hands were restlessly moving on his upper body. Neither of you seemed to be able to get enough of the other, and both the kisses and hasty touches only turned the two of you on more.
“The door is locked, right?” you asked against Wonwoo’s lips as you began unbuttoning his shirt, and he chuckled lowly as he popped the first few buttons of your shirt open, too.
“It is, and this is the time when the school gets empty,” he murmured and pulled back to take a look at you, deciding to open the rest of your shirt buttons, too. Then he moved his hooded eyes to yours. “We’re safe.”
Once you had finished opening Wonwoo’s shirt, you smirked at him and pulled him closer from the tie that was now loose around his neck. “Good.”
Wonwoo’s lips tugged into a smirk, too, as he kissed you again, with even more passion and hunger than before, and placed his hands on your waist underneath your shirt. You shivered slightly under his touch, at which he chuckled softly. “Just relax.”
“How,” you breathed, your breath only growing heavier when Wonwoo slid his hands higher on your body, until he could slide his thumbs underneath your bra. “God.”
He pulled back and bit lightly on his lower lip as he looked down at you. “Should I just… slide the straps down?”
You nodded quickly, and so he slid the straps of your bra down until he could also drag the garment itself lower on your torso, until your breasts were easily reached. He grinned to himself and leaned down to brush his lips by yours again while his hands found their way to your breasts.
“Perfect.”
Wonwoo easily slid his tongue into your mouth while massaging your breasts, teasing your erect nipples just how you imagined him in your dream. You were almost painfully turned on, the pulsating need between your legs only growing more intense with his thumbs rubbing your nipples and his lips so sensual against yours.
“I… I need your touch,” you whispered as you broke away from your kiss, looking up into Wonwoo’s eyes almost shyly. Taking a hold of one of his hands, you brought it down on your body.
He swallowed hard and nodded in understanding as he, for the time being, placed his hand on your thigh that he then rubbed with his thumb. “I’ve got you.”
You leaned back a little as Wonwoo slid his hand higher up your thigh, until he could rub your slit through your panties with his thumb. Holding back a whimper, you shut your eyes and clung onto his shoulder with one hand while the other was resting on the desk.
“Damn, you’re wet,” Wonwoo mumbled, his voice thick with lust, and spent a moment just sliding his finger up and down your slit, feeling just how wet your panties were getting and taking note of how good it made you feel.
“That feels good,” you breathed heavily and forced your eyes open so that you could look at him. “But I need more.”
You could see his Adam’s apple bob, which made you feel a sense of self-satisfaction, which was just what you needed to be daring enough to slowly slide your hand down his upper body.
“I take it you could use some attention, too?” you asked with a meaningful raise of your eyebrows when your fingers had reached the waistband of Wonwoo’s suit pants.
“You’ve always been a smart girl,” he noted with his lips curving into a smile and let you unzip his pants and helped you get his cock out of his boxers. You swallowed hard as your hand met his half-hard length, and you gave him a tentative, slow tug. Wonwoo hissed and shut his eyes. “Yes.”
You bit down on your lower lip as you stroked him to full hardness without much trouble, your mouth watering at his size, but felt your composure crumble when he slid your panties to the side and rubbed your swollen clit with his forefinger.
“You’re doing amazing,” he breathed into your ear, grunting quietly as his hips bucked into your hand. “Good god, Y/N.”
“Please, Wonwoo,” you whispered with a whiny edge to your voice when his forefinger would merely tease your entrance instead of sliding in. He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to your neck, and only gave you what you wanted when you bucked your hips against his finger impatiently.
“Okay, okay,” he hummed in amusement and straightened his back, looking into your eyes as his index finger began pushing into you slowly. “Like this?”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you were finally getting what you had been after, and nodded eagerly. “Y-yes.”
Wonwoo nodded in understanding and leaned down to lock your lips in a series of kisses again, which effectively muffled both of your sounds as he fingered you with ease and you stroked him steadily. You were soaked, which he knew more than well, and so it didn’t take too long for him to be pistoning two and later three fingers in and out of you fast, the desk underneath you shaking about as much as you were.
You clung onto Wonwoo’s shoulder with one hand and stilled your hand on his cock, hiding your face in his shoulder when a wave of pleasure coursed through you, and he only stopped fucking you with his fingers when you suddenly shut your legs and took in a sharp breath.
“Close?” he asked huskily, panting a little, and looked down at his fingers, which were coated with a thick layer of your anticipation. You nodded in a daze as an answer to his question, and Wonwoo brought his fingers up, a playful grin on his lips as you moved your eyes to his fingers. “I wonder, what should we do about this…”
Much to his surprise you didn’t hesitate to open your mouth and take his fingers in, sucking them clean of your own juices. Wonwoo bit down on his lower lip and thrust into your hand, cursing under his breath.
You let his fingers fall from your lips and smiled. “That.”
He nodded in amusement and blinked in surprise when you let go of his length and got off the desk. “What now?”
“I’m going to have to sit there tomorrow,” you pointed out with a laugh, referring to your seat, and began walking towards the teacher’s desk. You smirked at Wonwoo when you had reached it and bent over it, your cleavage as prominent as ever. “And this is a more stable surface anyway.”
“I see,” Wonwoo chuckled and followed you to the front of the classroom, bending down over you and bringing his lips to your left ear. “But you’ll also have to see this desk tomorrow and try not to think about what we’re about to do on it.”
You held back a moan when you felt his cock against your ass, and nodded. “I think that’s just going to make school more interesting.”
“Oh, you bet,” Wonwoo whispered in amusement and gave you a kiss on your neck before pulling back and reaching for his bag.
Curious, you turned to look at what he was doing, and clicked your tongue when you saw him casually flip out a condom from his bag. “Do I want to know?”
Wonwoo laughed, grinning so widely that his nose was crinkling in a way you had only seen it do a few times during classes, and shook his head. “One of my friends put it in my bag a while ago and I just never took it out.”
“And you’re sure it hasn’t expired?” you asked with a quirked eyebrow, and felt a sense of relief when Wonwoo nodded and showed you the condom.
“See for yourself.”
You moved your eyes from the expiry date to Wonwoo and bit down on your lower lip. “Then there’s nothing stopping us.”
He hummed and, once he had placed the condom on the desk, reassumed his position behind you and lifted your skirt up so that your lower body only had your panties covering it. Soon he pushed them down to your mid-thigh, however, and squeezed your ass with a quiet grunt. “Damn, Y/N…”
You held back a moan as he merely kneaded your ass for a while, his cock between your cheeks as his hips rocked back and forth. You could already feel your arousal starting to drip down your thighs, and grew impatient rather fast.
“Wonwoo,” you began pleadingly and looked at him with puppy eyes, “please fuck me already.”
He swallowed hard and let go of your ass to unbutton his pants, which fell to his ankles rather fast, at which he stifled a sigh: nothing to be done about that. Wonwoo then opened the condom packet and put the rubber on himself, giving his length a few good strokes while looking at you hungrily, taking in just how wet your pussy was, especially with you swaying your hips invitingly.
“Wait,” you said suddenly and stood up before turning around and sitting on the desk as a small grin spread to your lips. “I want to see you.”
Wonwoo smirked and raised his eyebrows when you got comfortable on the desk and spread your legs, having managed to get your panties off from one leg.
“I can’t say I’d be surprised,” he hummed in amusement and got closer to you, smiling against your lips as he kissed you. “Especially considering how much you enjoy looking at me on the regular.”
Your cheeks heated up - while he was right, your wish had a lot more to do with the dream you had had the night before that you were more than determined to re-enact.
“Ah,” Wonwoo mumbled suddenly, as though remembering something, and started taking his glasses off. You shook your head quickly and took a hold of his wrist, which caused him to look at you in surprise.
“Keep them on,” you said with a small smile, and Wonwoo raised his eyebrows. “They look good on you.”
His expression melted, and he lowered his hand with a soft smile on his face. “Alright, then. They’ll stay on.”
You grinned playfully and leaned back on the desk, propped on your elbows, and watched Wonwoo intently as he moved his cock up and down your wetness, gathering some additional slickness to it. When you wrapped your legs around his waist, he finally smirked and aligned himself with your entrance.
“Ready?” he asked huskily, looking into your eyes as his hands held your hips, and when you nodded, much more than ready, he finally pushed into you little by little.
You kept your mouth shut, but your sated moan was everything but silent as your eyes fell shut and pussy clamped down around Wonwoo’s length, and he breathed heavily, too, hardly able to hold back a grunt with how amazing it felt to be inside of you at last, surrounded by your hot wetness.
The fact that it was all forbidden only seemed to heighten the pleasure for both of you, and it was as soon as Wonwoo had bottomed out that you realized that it would be much, much more wonderful than it had been in your dream.
“Mr. Jeon…” you whispered, purposefully calling him what you always did in class, and moaned quietly when he instinctively moved inside of you at that.
Wonwoo wanted to, at the very least, hide: while he had been the one to tell you specifically not to call him that, having you refer to him as that turned him on. “Shit, please don’t.”
You grinned, mostly to yourself, and got your hands to Wonwoo’s chest, from where they slid up to his shoulders. “Sorry, I’m just messing with you.”
His lips tugged into a smile, and as he began thrusting into you steadily, he leaned down to kiss you desperately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, similarly as your legs were around his waist, and responded to his kisses, both for the intimacy and the attempt to keep your moans muffled.
Wonwoo breathed heavily as he fucked you, one of his hands roaming on your ass and thigh while the other began slowly moving from your hip to your chest, where he began playing with your nipple. Your breath hitched in your throat, and he chuckled quietly when you clenched around him.
“Aren’t you sensitive,” he noted amusedly while rubbing your nipple with the pad of his thumb, his hips meeting yours one smooth thrust after another, each of which hit all the right places inside of you. “I wonder how you’d react if I touched you somewhere else…”
You whimpered at the implication behind his words, and shook your head as your hips bucked against his. “Not yet, I don’t want to come too soon.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wonwoo breathed and slid his tongue into your mouth with ease and began thrusting into you a bit faster and harder, by then certain that you were feeling good. You moaned into the kiss with nearly every thrust, and as the knot in the pit of your stomach started getting tighter, your legs began tightening around him, too.
“I-I’m close,” you whined as you broke away from the kiss and hid your face in Wonwoo’s shoulder instead, taking in the faint scent of his cologne. He grunted and slid his hand down from your breast, until he could rub circles into your clit while moving his hips back and forth, reveling in how good it felt on his end, too.
“Just let it go,” Wonwoo muttered into your neck that he was kissing sloppily, intoxicated by both your scent and how you felt, and chased his own high desperately. It didn’t take long for you to come around him, your back arching and your lips parting into a silent cry as your body convulsed underneath his.
He fucked you through your orgasm, and before long, he was coming into the condom, too, grunting against your neck as he held your thigh tightly, his other hand back to your hip as well. His hips continued rocking into yours throughout his climax, until they slowly came to a stop, which left both of you panting, still clinging onto each other.
As you both came down from your highs little by little, you caressed each other slowly, and eventually he pulled out of you and got the condom off, tying it before placing it on top of a paper on the desk so that he could dispose it better later.
“This probably shouldn’t become a thing,” Wonwoo panted, his lips against your neck, but his hands never left your hips.
You held his shoulder with one hand and played with his hair with the other. “This meaning us having sex, or us having sex in the classroom?”
He chuckled quietly and pulled up so that he could look at you and stroke your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Us having sex. I’m still your teacher, Y/N.”
“But you’re a substitute one,” you mumbled with a small pout, closing your eyes as you leaned into his touch. “Doesn’t your employment end at the end of this semester? And I’m going to graduate, too…”
Wonwoo blinked in surprise. “It does, actually.”
“So,” you began, shy yet playful, and grinned at him. “Would you like to see where this goes when the summer is here? Then there won’t be any obstacles.”
The kiss he gave you told you more than enough.
Wonwoo didn’t quite take pride in the few times that he gave in to you before the end of his employment at the school, however, one of which he actually was able to end in time after merely making out with you, but one of which ended, much to his shame, with you riding him on the backseat of his car.
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perhetale · 6 years
Text
PerheTale - Morning Talk
Takes Place after: Little Date At The MTT Resort
Takes Place Before: You’re Gonna Have A Bad Time, Kids...
When Callie woke up the next day, Sans was in the kitchen. Judging by the noise and the smell, he was cooking the breakfast, and Callie smiled. Obviously no-one else was up, but they would be really please. She stretched and got out of the sofa, still wearing Sans hoodie, and she went to the kitchen.
“Bonejour Mister Skeleton” she said
“Wow, would you believe that, you’re speaking french now. And making pun first thing in the morning. Are you trying to make me propose to you?” Sans answered without looking at her, staying focused on his dishes
“What, me? Pffshhh, like I’d do that” she laughed nervously, her cheeks reddening “SO, uh, what are you cooking?”
“Meh, not much… A bit of eggs and bacon, and obviously pastas for Paps because if I don’t make pastas for him he’s going to be mad”
“That sound… Eggselent” she said, chuckling
Sans snorted
“You butter stop with the puns before Paps wake up”
“What, orange you glad you got a pun buddy?” she added, trying to not laugh more
“Maybe the kids shouldn’t lettuce stay in the same room”
Both of them started laughing, not able to hold it anymore. Callie even had to sit down on one of the kitchen’s chair because she couldn’t stay up anymore. Sans finally removed the frying pan from the stove and turned to her, smiling. Callie eyes grew wide and she started laughing even more, as he had big eyebrows and a moustache drawn with marker on his face. He grinned.
“Damn, I had forgotten that”
“Oh my god Sans!!” she said
“You have really mischievous kids” Sans said, laughing
“That is SO Mina’s doing” she snorted
“Indeed. And of course Paps helped.”
“And that’s definitely permanent marker”
“WHAT?”
“Don’t worry. I’m on it” she winked “Wait for my here”
Callie woke up and went to the bathroom and get back with a washcloth and some soap. She sat back on her chair and gave a few pats on the one in front of her to tell Sans to come and sit. He shrugged and obeyed, smiling.
“It’s not the first time I have to deal with a permanent marker incident. I’m kinda used to it now. You should have seen Deca on April Fool three years ago… He was a mess. You’re lucky Mina didn’t go that far this time” she said, smiling
“I didn’t give them the time to do so. I think they got some interesting pictures of that”
The young woman got her phone from her pocket. Knowing Mina, if she had taken picture, obviously there were on snapchat by now. Callie’s phone was indeed showing four notification from the said app. She laughed softly and opened the first picture. It was a picture of herself, sleeping in Sans jacket on the couch, with the words “Oh look what we have here” written on it. Callie blushed and tapped on the screen to make the picture disappear right away. The next picture was Sans on the Sofa, his face covered with the marker, eye glowing.
“That is so going to backfire”
“Like I’d do that” Sans chuckled
The next picture was Mina and Papyrus taking a selfie with their masterpiece, but obviously they had just realized Sans wasn’t sleeping, as they were looking slightly anxious while Sans was smiling behind them. The words “Shit we so dead” were written on the picture.
“Did she just flipping swear?” Callie groaned
“You’re missing the fun there girl”
“Ugh, yeah, right…”
The last picture was quite blurry, they were obviously running away - and yet Mina managed to take a snap while doing so - but Callie could easily make out bones coming out of the floor and a Gaster Blaster behind them. This time, Mina had written “WORTH IT XD” on the picture. The woman chuckled.
“What’s the end of the story?”
“They’re kinda grounded into Paps room”
“We’ll have to go get them to eat the breakfast then. But first… Let me remove that from your face.”
Callie put soap on the washcloth and started to rub it on Sans’ face. She managed to remove the most of it, but had to get closer to focus on the last parts. Sans stayed silent during the whole process, and when she was done, she suddenly noted the light blue covering his cheeks. Blue blush! It was so cute! But he was obviously uneasy. She had been too close. She hadn’t thought about how she was invading his personal space.  She backed up, blushing, and laughed nervously.
“Welp, you’re all good, no more marker, haha!”
“Oh, uh thanks” he said, looking away
“Humm, by the way, I should probably… Give that… Back…” she said, removing Sans hoodie “Thank you, it really kept me warm”
“You’re welcome” he said, putting back the hoodie “Wow, he’s so warm. I’m definitely not used to have it like that”
“You, uh… can feel it? The warm?” she asked
“Well, yeah. Not as much as you though, same for the cold, I mean, just look at how Paps dress up. But yeah we can definitely feel the cold and the warm.”
“Is there, like, anything else you can sense? Well, obviously you can see and hear but… Like, can you feel the things you touch?”
“Of course” he put his hand on her cheeks “If I touch you, I can feel your skin, warm and soft against my hand”
The woman blushed deeply at the feeling of the skeletons hand against her skin, trying to not freak out at how deeply he was watching her, or at how close he was, or even at the sight of that adorable blue blush on Sans’ cheeks.
“I can smell your scent on my hoodie too right now, after you’ve worn it the whole night”
“Sorry for that” she mumbled
“Don’t be. I like it. You smell like… cinnamon. With cocoa and… Crispy rice. It’s really pleasing”
He sniffed the fluff of his hoodie and then stopped, the blue on his cheek intensifying as he suddenly looked embarrassed. They both jumped when Callie phone buzzed on the table, and she took it right away, trying to hide how uneasy she was by staring awkwardly at the screen. She opened a new snapchat picture and nearly died when she saw an upside down picture of her and Sans a few seconds before, Sans’ hand on her cheeks sniffing his hoodie while the both of us were blushing like idiots - which was actually the words used by Mina to describe the picture “Look at those two blushing like idiots”. Callie tapped the screen like she would have done to make the picture disappear, but instead saved it discreetly.
“MINA YOU COME HERE THIS INSTANT”
The girl laugh could be heard from upstair, and soon she was with them in the kitchen, a wide grin on her face.
“Sorry, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything” she said
“Actually, we were just talking about your behavior this morning. I thought I grounded you, what are you doing outside?”
“Foolish skeleton, I am ungroundable”
Callie raised an eyebrow, smiling.
“Oh, is that so?”
Suddenly, in a terrible scream, a black shadow fall on Mina, crushing her on the floor. Seating on Mina’s head, Decaîrell crossed his arm.
“I am the only ungroundable child on this house, silly Mina”
As Mina tried to get back on her feet, any sound she could make muffled by Decaîrell’s body, Callie laughed at the sight of her kid. Beside her, Sans smiled softly. Poor guy, they really were causing a fuss in his house. When Mina finally pushed her adoptive brother away, Callie went between the two of them to avoid any fight to start. Not that they would really fight, but she had bad memories of the day Mina ended up on his back, holding to his horn while Decaîrell tried to make her fall, like some kind of mechanical bull. Two chairs and a coffee table were broken that day.
“Congratulation, you’re both grounded.”
“But I didn’t do anything!!” Decaîrell argued
“Buddy, you could have injured Mina pretty bad there”
“I barely touched her”
“You crushed me!” Mina protested
“I did not. And even if I touched you it wouldn’t be much more than that” he said pushing his finger toward Mina
“Do not touch me”
“I’m not touching you yet”
“Yes you are” Mina pleaded
“I’m not” He assured
“He’s touching me!”
“I’m not touching!”
“Look he’s touching!!”
“Not touching!!!”
“KIDS” Callie grunted
Both kids stopped in a “uh oh” as Callie crossed her arms.
“Both of you, go set the table for everybody’s breakfast. And I don’t want to hear another word from you if it’s not something nice”
The kids went to go get the plates while Sans chuckled.
“They sure are a handful to deal with”
“I’m gonna go wake up the others. Do you want me to get Papyrus too?”
“Yeah. I’m keeping an eyes on these two. And thank you for helping me clean Mina’s masterpiece”
“Oh believe me Sans, compared to what she’s done in the past, you were merely a doodle” Callie winked as she left the kitchen
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art by @minakatana
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Art by @alannahablar
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rkjinwook · 7 years
Text
how far i’ll go 💫
161111  |  After your audition piece, the panel members begin to discuss the main points of your performance. Their voices are way too soft, preventing you from getting a clue on what they are talking about. They take a few more minutes to share notes with each other before their attention shifts back to you. Once all of them return to their respective seats, the male instructor sitting on the left of Baek Jiyoung speaks up.
“It was obvious that you were nervous at the beginning of the performance,” he begins. “It’s understandable, but it’s also very important to remember that idols should know how to contain that energy as soon as you stand in front of your audience.”
Another instructor raises the pencil trapped between her fingers to add her own opinion. “I personally noticed how you were going back and forth between extending your emotions towards the audience, and then singing like you are in your own world.” She then smiles at you and continues, “To me, there was a little bit of inconsistency, though I am confident you will be able to smoothen it out with more experience.”
All of them soon get up from their chairs and head out of the room. Baek Jiyoung, however, stops in front of you for a few words. “We have all agreed that we saw something better compared to the last time you were on the MGAs. With that said, I expect that you’re ready to see further improvement with us at Sphere.” The CEO then holds out the envelope in her hand that contains your contract, and flashes a warm smile. “If you have questions, the receptionist will be happy to assist you, alright? Congratulations, Jinwook-sshi.”
jinwook used to lie out for hours at night, watching the movement of the stars across the sky. these were some of the only times when he actually felt comfortable being alone - when he had the stars for company. they shone brightly enough that sometimes, it felt like he could just reach up and grab one, and pull it down to earth, and let it grant his most impossible wishes. all of his dreams felt within reach sometimes, right there on the outskirts of his grandmother’s village.
you can’t see the stars in seoul, though. since he left jeju, jinwook’s learned to seek them out himself. they’re not in the sky, here; he’s discovered them hidden among everyone else. they’re blown up to a hundred times life-size and plastered on the sides of buildings; they’re slinking through side streets, bright hair concealed beneath baseball caps and face masks. they’re fresh-faced trainees handing out flyers on the corner at lunchtime. jinwook’s met a few stars himself; he’s stood eye to eye with the ceo of nova entertainment and felt his intensity even from meters away.
there’s a star right in front of him now, the fairest of them all — jinwook’s heart stops as baek jiyoung approaches, and he wonders if that envelope in her hand means he could be one of them, one day.
her words flow like honey, taking a few moments to seep in. only then, the paper burns bright between his fingertips, and this is how stars are born, thinks jinwook. the pressure gets too hot and too dense that it explodes beyond his heart and past his chest, igniting a fire in him that shoots lightning through his veins.
he bounces on his toes with energy and the audition room swells with stunned laughter, his excitement too much to contain in even the widest of smiles.
left alone, jinwook takes a seat near the end of the panel ( not baek jiyoung’s - talk about sacrilege ). he scrawls his name across the first signature line in sight, so quickly that the ink almost smudges as he skims to find the next blank.
documenting such information is probably against contract, but he takes a picture of each page to send to his father later. it’s a compromise — jinwook’s never been a student who could do readings all the way through in one sitting, but he can’t bear to wait on this opportunity either. maybe part of him fears that if he leaves the building before committing, baek jiyoung will change her mind about him. ( besides, it probably contains all the same clauses as the nova contract, and he had studied that one ad nauseum. )
after each page is initialed, jinwook squats with his camera app still open and sets the side of his phone level on the table: an angled, artsy shot of his signature, crisp black on white with sphere’s letterhead in soft focus above it. though he won’t be able to use the photo for anything public, it’s a little keepsake for a moment worth savoring.
he switches apps and repeats the shot, this time in snapchat, captioned with exclamation points and a wide range of emoji stickers. it’s intended for his siblings and a few of his closest friends. after a moment’s hesitation, jinwook adds all his old sphere teammates to the recipient list as well.
a flip of the camera frames his follow-up message, a cheesy selfie blurred by excitement. this one goes to jinri: “lunch on me??!”
after excitedly texting his family, jinri’s the first person he wants to celebrate with, given how big of a role she played in his journey here. it hits him that she’s somewhere in the building at this very moment. she even knows where his audition room was scheduled, though she wouldn’t be careless enough to linger around.
jinwook’s eyes drop to the contract again, reminded of the rules contained within it. his pinky trails the margins of the heavy, official papers as he hunts for one tiny clause. his gaze lingers when he finds it - all trainees will not be allowed to date while signed under sphere entertainment.
the stern print gives him pause. it’s been a few months since jinri’s breached her own contract, and nothing bad has come of their relationship - but still, jinwook isn’t flippant about breaking rules. not usually.
in a fit of petulance, he snaps a pic of the pesky, unforgiving sentence. he doodles a broken heart in the margin of the photo and sends it off to jinri with a sense of invincibility. nothing has to change.
he just wants to see her. he flips the signed contract closed and practically skips down the halls with it. the receptionist shares a knowing smile at jinwook’s glowing aura as she accepts the envelope from him.
( he’s familiar with her by now. it’s same woman who’d checked him in every day during the mgas. even if the receptionist doesn’t remember him, she will learn quickly, jinwook thinks. she’ll be seeing a lot more of him from now on. )
under the table he hooks his ankle into jinri’s, a natural, practiced motion. it’s subtle, like it’s always had to be, like it always will be - even more so now that both of them are under sphere’s watch.
“…something better than they last saw in the mgas,” he continues without missing a beat, his voice imitating the cadence of baek jiyoung’s. “then she said congratulations and gave me the contract, and then… that was it, i guess? it was that simple?”
jinwook recalls the stomach-turning stress of his nova audition in august. he’d normally shudder at the memory, but today a light laugh bubbles up out of him instead.
“you know,” he says, slowing his words so he can consider each one before voicing it. “i thought my heart was still with royal, but i feel like this must be in the stars, or something.” he looks up and flushes at the intensity of jinri’s gaze. it’s not exactly table talk, but he’s afraid he’ll lose the words if he doesn’t say them as they come. “really. maybe it’s you, maybe i’d just agree with anything baek jiyoung said. i know beggars shouldn’t be choosers…” he swallows and nudges jinri’s ankle, a small smile lifting his lips with the remark. “but something keeps bringing me back to sphere.”
2014-high-school-graduate-jinwook, pouring his heart out to the stars, would take comfort in knowing that his prayers were worth something after all. he’d hardly believe his eyes. jinwook’s gotten into university, moved to the big city, competed on tv, got the girl, got the dream job.
so much change in the past three years! he just hopes he can make it all work together. jinwook closes his eyes and imagines the next two years under sphere entertainment — there’s just no telling how far he’ll go.
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l-x-ie · 7 years
Text
Songs and Kisses
Ch. 6 of Altea High
Lance sprinted down the rest of the way that led up to his front door, backpack thumping rhythmically against his side. He slung his bag from his shoulder, got his keys, and opened the door shouting, “Did you kids remember your Temper Gummies?”  
“Yeah!” a voiced piped up.
Two sets of feet scampered down the stairs followed by a loud thump and a shout. Lance dropped his bag in the entryway, let the door swing shut, and rushed over to see his two younger sisters piled on top of each other. The shorter one struggled under the other who slumped even further, crushing their sibling under them.
“Melodyyyyy! Get off! Lance!”
Smothering his chuckles back he hoisted the older sister by the armpits, releasing the younger. Despite Melody going limp in his hold, increasing her weight tenfold—what is his mother feeding this girl?—he held her under one arm like a football.
Cora, the rambunctious eight-year old, leapt up and fled the room shouting, “Freedom! Sweet freedom!”
Melody’s body shook with laughter and peered up at her big brother through her chestnut bangs. Her big blue eyes sparkling with mirth. He scrunched up his nose in a exaggerated glare. “Did you guys really take your gummies?”
She nodded and he dropped her, she landed on the carpet with a little poof, her little body splayed as she embraced the floor. He stood over her for a second or two before abandoning his own flesh and blood.
It was only a few more seconds she lay prone before she skipped up and followed him into the living room. “Cora! Do you have homework?” he yelled into the house.
“No!” Her faint voice drifted from somewhere on the other side of the house.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m in third-grade, how much homework do you think I have?” Her voice steadily decreased from shouting to a reasonable decibel as she walked through the door with a handful of cookies.
“I dunno,” he swiped two cookies while Melody stole another despite their sister’s cry. “Maybe they’re secretly having you work on government secrets under the guise of homework.”
“Pfftt,” Cora rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, hermano.” She flopped on the couch, lengthwise, dark hair fanned out over the cushions. Scrounging out the remote from between the cushions she turned on the TV and put on some cartoon that he hasn’t kept up with.
He turned away from the kid in the bear hat talking to a girl that was made of fire to Melody who was patiently waiting on the piano bench, flipping through her music sheets.
He sat next to her on a bench that barely fit two people, but would comfortably sit a ten-year-old and a gremlin. So if Pidge could teach his sister piano then that would be great, but she doesn’t, so he either sits with his left butt cheek off the bench or get a bigger bench. Sadly, the bigger bench won’t fit in the living room so half butt cheek it is.
“Are you sure you didn’t change your mind on the piano?”
She shook her head as the tapped a simple tune on the keys. Listening closely, he could hear the slightly out of tune Yankee Doodle Dandy.
“Y’know, the guitar is pretty cool, I could teach you the guitar. And it’s mobile!”
She stared intently at him, sky blue eyes piercing his soul, as she played out the theme song for Charlie Brown, slowly but forceful.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, I get it. I’m just saying there might be better options out there than the piano.”
After a few hours at the piano he could hear the door click thrice, one in one direction and the second in the other and one last firm one. “What have I told you about locking this door!”
Lance winced and bit his tongue before responding. “Sorry, Mamá! Won’t happen again!”
“That’s what you always say, tonto.”
His mother came over to the piano and ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead then Melody’s. “Mijo, the day you remember to lock the door is the day the world ends.”
She walked over where Cora was passed out on the couch and maneuvered her dead-to-the-world body to something more comfortable before collapsing on the couch. After a minute she rustled out stacks of paper out of her bag and set them next to her on the well-loved sofa.
“Taking home work again? Tsk, tsk, tsk, what would dad say?”
“Well considering he’s away on a case that would make him a hypocrite.” She stuck her tongue out at him and he reciprocated with Melody peeking from behind him to back him up.
He took out his phone and looked up a sheet music on it. Might as well make the last bit of practice time fun. The printer in the office adjacent to the living room whirring loudly as he found the one he wanted. His mom always did her work in the living room with the kids, why she has an office he doesn’t know.
“Can I know who it is?” he asked as he walked to get the music sheets.
His mother doesn’t bother answering him until he’s back in the room. “You know it’s confidential but I will say that it’s a win.”
Lance nodded. “Cool, cool… are you meeting Plax tomorrow?”
“Yes, I assume she told you?”
“Yeah, it’s the monthly report, but I will say that she’s been doing great at school if you want my opinion.”
His mamá looks at him with her big brown eyes. “Lance, you know that I don’t think that Plaxum is a bad kid. These check-ins are to make sure that she’s adapting.”
Lance pursed his lips and tapped out the notes slowly, hearing that familiar tune that his sisters were playing since the movie came out. Melody’s worried frown turned into a smile that showed every tooth including the adorable crooked canine. She clapped and eagerly started to copy his finger movements in the higher key. He said without looking up from the keyboard, “I know. It, it just feels like you’re treating her like she’s… she’s a villain or something. Like you’re checking in because you don’t trust her.”
“Lance, mijo, it’s not like that at all.” She got up and stood next to the piano, arms folded on top. “I know that it might look like it but I can’t change the system. Even if they’re good kids the government wants to make sure that the public is safe and this is the solution they’ve come up with. Kids of supervillains make the public uneasy and it’s either monthly lunch dates with me or her not going to school.”
He didn’t stop playing but let his head drop closer to her. She carded her fingers through his hair soothingly before moving around the bench and crouching down next to his sister. “I just don’t think it’s fair.”
“It’s not fair, mijo. But education is important and with education she can help the world be a little less unfair.” She smiled and pecked Melody’s cheek. “Buen trabajo, mija! Qué canción es esto? Suena familiar. It sounds familiar.”
He snuck a look at his sister who snuck one back to him with a little smile. Nope. She wasn’t talkin’, in Spanish or otherwise. Maybe they should try sign language next.
Lance knew she tried to change the subject. He knew that she would answer if he continued but decided to let it die, he answered for Melody and his mother. “It’s Evermore, Mamá. Someone put up the piano sheet music for it.”
“Remind me which is Evermore, mijo?”
“You know,” He started from the beginning, Melody’s fingers tangling with his before she took them back. His voice was a little too high to match Josh Groban. “I was the one who had it all. I was the master of my fate. I never needed anybody in my life. I learned the truth too late.”
“Ooooh! Beauty and the Beast!”
“Yeah,” He slowed his fingers and put Melody’s small hands back on the keys, pointing to the notes on the sheet music, letting her make her way through them. “Can I go out tomorrow?”
“Lance, it’s a school night.”
He looked at her, mouth agape. “Mamá! It’s Saturday tomorrow!”
Her body jerked and she whipped out her phone, going to her calendar app. “What?! It can’t be Friday already!” Her shoulders slump and her head cants to the side. “It’s Friday. Where does the time go.”
“You said you were meeting Plax tomorrow! Didn’t you know which day!”
“I knew that I was meeting her tomorrow I just didn’t realize it was Friday!”
”Aye por dios.” Lance laughed.
His mom hit him on the shoulder with her phone over his little sister. “Aye, don’t swear!”
He held up his hands with Melody ducking underneath them. ”Lo siento, lo siento, Mamá!” She stopped her assault, with a disapproving frown. He tried not to laugh, as he was sure she would try to beat the swear words out of his brain. She had a weird Cuban-Catholic-mother spider-sense whenever any of her children were swearing. He might have speculated with his older siblings whether or not she secretly had a superpower to sense swearwords from her offspring despite evidence of her being a civilian. “So can I go out tomorrow?”
She rolled her eyes, her entire body following dramatically. “I suppose. Is it with that superkid you were talking about?”
Lance flushed red. He allowed his lips to slip into a sly smile. “Maybe.”
 It’s just for coffee. It’s just for coffee. The mantra in his head was on repeat as he made his way to the local coffee shop. He tried to calm his heartbeat, the constant thumping against his breastbone distracting. There was nothing to worry about! He was Lance the most controlled superkid at Altea High! He was cool as ice. Ice Ice Baby was his theme song. Nothing could shake him. Not explosions, not a fire-powered mullet, not Professor Slav on one of his million of dimension possibility calculation ramblings, and certainly not a coffee date.
He approached the glass doors. He took a deep breath and exhaled his worries out. She said yes to the date. She said yes to the date. She likes you. There’s nothing to worry about. It’ll go great.
He walked through the doors and in the sunny corner with a frothy frosted thing, a teal straw with a pink ring poking out of the whipped cream, was his date. Dyed blonde hair pulled into two perky pigtails, her black roots only serving to make her that more noticeable, as if anyone wouldn’t be already in awe and staring. Her normally warm brown eyes purple and larger from the colored circle lenses and golden skin glowed in the sunlight.
He put on a winning smile. “Hey, Nyma, did I keep you waiting?”
Her pink, pink lips tugged into a smile. “It’s fine, you’re right on time. I like that.”
He relaxed some and slouched into the comfy armchair across from her. He made a show of looking around the quiet coffee shop, empty except for the barista. “You might be asked to leave soon. You’re making the other women look bad.”
She giggled wind chimes and sparkling water and his heart took a dive. What he wouldn’t do to hear that laugh again. She leaned forward, the neckline of her top dipping. “Very smooth, very smooth. I should call you Google, because you have everything I’m looking for.”
He clutched his hands to his heart and collapsed back into the cushions. His heart, his heart! Peeking and eye open he could see the cute little wrinkle in her nose when she giggles at his antics. He let his hands fall and let head fall to the side, soft smile apparent. “Out of all your beautiful curves, your smile is my favorite.”
She stopped laughing and blushed red across her cheekbones and it was the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Seriously, you’ve got to stop being so cute or else you’re going to put me into cardiac arrest.”
“Lance!” She playfully hit him on the knee. “You’re making me blush!”
He smiled again. “All in a day’s work, beautiful.”
She set aside her drink and scooted forward in her chair and took his hands between hers. “Lance,” She smiled softly at their joined hands and rubbed her thumbs in distracting circles on his skin. “I wanna be honest with you.” She took a deep breath. “I—I really, really, really like you. I like your smile, I like your positive attitude, and I love your eyes... I would really like us to date. Exclusively.” She peeked up at him with her heart-stopping eyes.
Lance felt his heart stop and race double-time. He tugged on her hands to get a little closer, her head tilted in confusion before he slotted their lips together. She melted against him, head tilting further for him to get better access, scooting closer until her hands wrapped around his neck. Her breath was sweet and smelled of coffee and he could feel the stickiness of her lipstick. His hand drifted up to cradle her head, the warmth of her skin permeating the slight coolness of his skin from when he used his powers that morning when he iced the floor of his sisters’ room as a prank.
He slowly broke the kiss, out of breath. Looking at her perfect face her eyes were still closed and her lips still parted. Looking at those pink-smudged lips he pecked them one last time and once on her nose, smearing some of that pink on that little button. She giggled. Eyes still closed her lips tilted into a smile, relaxed, he felt his face heat. It was a good thing she had her eyes closed or else she could see how red his face was becoming. He responded, “I would love to be your boyfriend.”
Finally her eyes opened and crinkled with happiness, she rested her forehead against his and rubbed the tips of their noses together, transferring that pink. “Then I guess I’m your girlfriend.”
Ch.1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5
Ao3
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dustingrayves · 7 years
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clean slate (5/?)
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Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter: 2634 Rating: T+/M TWs: (past) abuse AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper Notes: kitty doodles help healing 100% real confirmed true
Esper had lost track of time, but that had been a while back already. Ever since he'd graduated from the university, he'd never even known what day it is. He didn't need to.
But it's Saturday today. He knows, because Arc isn't at the kindergarten and Lusa isn't at work.
The boy had come home in the morning, lugging inside a giant stuffed cat and his usual drawstring backpack. He'd been over at an uncle's, he'd said.
He'd been over at a friend's, Lusa corrects. He didn't want to leave the boy alone while they went to the policlinic. That also confuses Esper; wasn't it a hospital? Lusa assures him it's a policlinic. When he asks what the difference is, Lusa gives him a vague hand motion instead of an answer.
And so they eat their breakfast — aside from Arc, who'd apparently eaten at Ref's already. The boy seems frustrated with Esper's cast, for some reason.
He keeps glaring daggers at it, even as he tells them all about his night (or evening, more accurately) and about the amazing pirate fight in which he'd slain Anpa. Esper chews on his cereal, asking questions in between spoonfuls.
Lusa watches his son fondly. There's a spark in his big eyes, motions exaggerated as he uses his action figure (it's just a Spiderman Barbie) to show them exactly how the battle bad gone.
"I got it!" Arc exclaims out of nowhere, in the middle of a sentence, jumping off the chair.
Esper and Lusa both watch him with interest as he disappears upstairs, coming back down in a few minutes, markers in hand. His face screams determination as he nudges Esper's chair and pulls on his casted leg. He's nowhere near strong enough to pull it in the direction he wants, but Esper obliges, relaxing and moving the leg as he wants. He glances over at Lusa when Arc positions it on another chair.
Lusa simply laughs at his son's antics. Arc pulls out a red marker, taking the cap off with his teeth and descending onto the cast like a hungry vulture. The squiggles and shaky lines resemble... well, Esper has no idea.
"What is that?" Lusa asks, leaning over the table to take a look. Esper doesn't flinch away, and not just because of having his leg up.
"A cat! It's a cat!" Arc pouts, pointing with the other end of the marker. "See? This is its tail, and these are whiskers!"
"That looks more like a burnt breakfast," Lusa remarks, earning himself the marker, as Arc chuck it at him.
"Meanie! You're even worse at drawing!"
"You must've gotten in from someone." Lusa catches the marker with ease, handing it back and ruffling the boy's hair. "I'm joking, it's cute."
Esper smiles down at the child, looking at the doodles adorning his cast. "I like them, Arc. They're pretty," he says.
It lights Arc up, a bright smile as he switches for a green marker, adding more to the first doodles. "I'll cover the whole thing! Having kitties around helps healing! You'll be better in no time at all!"
"Arc's drawings help injuries," Lusa says, finishing his coffee in slow sips. "At least that's what he says."
Arc puffs up his chest, placing his hands on his hips. He seems proud of himself as he says, "They do! Just you wait, Esper is gonna feel better soon!"
Esper laughs, carefully lowering his leg. He won't tell Arc that it doesn't hurt anymore, since he can't bend it in the direction that it'd hurt. He can even walk on it, if he's slow and careful. Lusa still tells him to sit down and doesn't let him do much. He even stopped Esper from doing any of the house chores when they'd come back from Arme's.
Arc puts his markers away, ever the clean kid (especially under Lusa's expectant gaze).
He catches sight of the clock on the wall as he goes to put them away again. "Dad!" he cries, startling them both with the volume and urgency. "Dad, it started! It already started! Come on, come on!"
The boy tugs his dad up, pulling him towards the living room with all the might of a five-year-old a third of the size of Lusa can manage. Lusa catches Esper's confused head tilt and chuckles.
"Arc's favorite show airs at eight," he explains, "Feel free to join us if you want."
The TV turns on and Arc jumps onto the couch excitedly, calling for Esper, "Join us, join us!! I wanna show you my favorite show!!"
Esper shuffles his way over to the living room. Arc is patting the spot next to himself, looking at him with a smile that's all teeth and tiny dimples. Lusa sits next to him on the other side, remote in hand and switching through the channels to find the cartoon one.
Lusa finally finds the channel and sets the remote down, while Arc already points excitedly at the screen, almost off the couch.
"His name is Tom!" he says, vibrating in his seat. Lusa chuckles, since this is obviously very usual for the boy.
The cartoon is just a cat chasing a mouse, and then the mouse chasing the cat (?) and there is dynamite and Arc is laughing and Esper has no idea what's going on, but since the boy is happy, it doesn't really matter.
Esper isn't sure how long they stay there, gradually drifting together until they're leaning against each other, Arc sprawled halfway over them. Esper's eyelids flutter.
He's barely dozing off when he's stirred awake by Arc stretching and hopping off the couch.
"I'm hungry!" he says, "I'm hungry, I'm hungry! What're we having for lunch?"
Esper perks up, barely suppressing a yawn, and pipes up, "I can make something. What would you like?"
"No," Lusa stops him immediately when he attempts to stand up. "You're supposed to be resting. How about we get take out?"
"Oh! Oh! I want pizza!"
"Pizza it is then." Lusa digs in his pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it and passing it over to Esper. "There's the pizzeria app. Get one big pepperoni for me, a kid special with three cheeses for Arc — it comes with a toy, he loves it — and anything you want for yourself."
Esper browses the selection for a moment, selecting the ones Lusa told him to and then looking over the options. Hawaii sounds good. He likes the idea of something sweet on the pizza. He picks that one.
'Order placed,' pops up, so he hands the phone back to Lusa, curling up against the side of the couch again. Arc seems way too excited by the prospect of pizza, nudging Lusa's side with his tiny finger, over and over, until the man halfheartedly starts swatting him away.
"How long till it comes?" Arc asks, dodging Lusa's hand and jabbing between his ribs again, pulling a groan out of him.
"About half an hour," Lusa mumbles, tossing the phone next to himself between the cushions and turning to his son. "Don't act like this is the first time we've had pizza. What're you trying to do, impress Esper?"
Arc recoils, twisting his lips into a pout. "How would that impress him?!"
Esper watches them from his spot, tucking his hurt leg underneath himself, eyelids fluttering. He smiles softly, almost without even noticing. "You don't have to try and impress me," he mutters.
Arc sticks his tongue out at his father and then shuffles on the couch, settling by Esper and resting his head against the man's slim shoulder. They watch the cartoons, with Arc's attentive commentary and Esper's sleepy, affirmative hums to let the boy know he's listening.
There haven't been many free days, or days spent lazing around like this. Esper's fingers itch to do something, but his mind is hazy, eyes barely comprehending the pastely characters. He feels like he's floating on a flock of clouds, somewhere far up in the sky. It's a nice feeling.
He fades in and out of consciousness a few times, catching bits and pieces of what Arc is telling him and responding in tiny 'hmm?'s and 'ah's. Lusa fiddles with his phone on the other side of the couch, barely paying attention to them or the TV. Or so it feels like, at least.
It seems the half hour passes much faster than he notices, because the doorbell rings out and wakes him, and he's instantly sitting up, heart in throat.
Lusa stretches his arms above his head, letting out a yawn. "Pizza must be here," he says, getting up and waddling his way to the entrance door.
"Pizza! Pizza!" Arc chants, hopping off the couch and following after Lusa.
Esper stares after them, his heartbeat calming down gradually as he listens to Lusa talking to the delivery man, their voices muffled and punctuated by Arc's excited cries. He feels silly for being so strung up when there's no danger. There isn't any danger here, but he just can't seem to be able to convince himself of it.
It haunts him, fills his dreams during the nights so he wakes up in cold sweat, staring at a phantom standing over the bed. The voice is engraved into his ears, and he hears it through the deafening silence, when there should be a sting on his cheek and a barking of how useless he is. He still expects it, tenses up with each loud sound. Loud voices are the worst; they force his breath straight out of him and make his fingers shake so hard he's unable to do anything with them.
He didn't realize how bad it'd been until there wasn't yelling every other minute.
Shoving the memory of words way too sharp to the back of his mind, he stands up, though he finds he didn't have to. Lusa and Arc are back already, Lusa with a stack of boxes.
They settle back on the couch and Lusa checks the bigger boxes, passing the smaller one to Arc without hesitation. Esper is also passed a box before Lusa stands up again, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a handful of tissues, setting them down onto the coffee table.
Arc tears apart the black plastic bag taped to the pizza box and pulls out its contents, eager to discover the surprise toy. It turns out to be a toy car, and he uses Esper's unsuspecting cast a road. Esper, with a slice of pizza in his hand, hanging down as he slowly chews on the greasy, cheesy food, doesn't seem to mind.
Lusa does, though. "Your food will get cold," he says, plucking the toy from Arc's hand and hiding it behind himself, much to the boy's chagrin.
"That's unfair!" Arc cries, trying to worm his hand behind his dad and retrieve it.
"I'll give it back when you finish eating," Lusa says, half illegible due to his mouth being stuffed with his own pizza.
Arc pouts, but quickly finds it won't help him in any way; Lusa simply ignores him and goes back to his phone game, tapping away as he makes his way through the slice, and Esper doesn't seem to understand his woes, and only offers him a slice of pizza from his box.
The boy huffs audibly and flops against the cushions, pulling out a slice and biting into it with the sole purpose of getting his toy back. (Okay, maybe the pizza is good. Maybe he's not just doing it for the toy.)
"You finished with that?" Lusa asks, motioning to Esper's pizza box, his own held up.
Esper blinks at the sudden question, forcing down the immediate reply of 'no no no' in favor of the real one. "Yeah."
Lusa grabs the box and stacks it on top of his, and then gets Arc's too. "You don't have to eat the leftovers, we have a bunch of other stuff in the freezer, but I'll leave it in the fridge," he calls from the kitchen, trying to find a way to fit all three boxes onto the shelves somehow.
He lingers in the kitchen, though, popping his head through the door just barely so he could ask Esper, "Do you want coffee?"
Esper nods enthusiastically and paints a wide smile onto Lusa's face with that, the man disappearing again. Esper returns his attention to the TV and the cartoon still playing.
Arc had disappeared upstairs into his room with his new toy car, eager to play with it on his city-like carpet.
Lusa returns in a few minutes, two steaming mugs held in his hands. He passes one over to Esper, waiting until he wraps his fingers around it comfortably before letting go, settling down next to him on the couch.
"You don't strike me as the coffee type," he mumbles, so deep in thought he doesn't even notice he's said that as he sips his coffee softly.
Esper looks at him with a weird expression — then again, most of his expressions seem weird to Lusa. So guarded, so hurt, so unsure. He doesn't like them. "Is that bad? I drank it a lot while studying," Esper confesses.
An exhausted laugh leaves Lusa's lips and he shakes his head. "It's not bad at all, don't worry. Just surprising."
Esper hums, bringing the mug up to his mouth, taking a sip after blowing onto the liquid. "I see."
"What else do you like, Esper?" Lusa asks, seemingly out of nowhere, eyes gazing at the younger man with honest curiosity.
Esper brings a knee up and rests his cheek against it, holding the warm mug tightly and staring into the twisting liquid. "I like chocolate, it's my favorite. I didn't have it very often, and I had to hide it fr-" He stops, biting down on his lip, glancing sideways. Lusa still has that curious look on his face, but there's also something else, something... softer.
"Don't have to tell me," he reminds, and Esper feels his lips quirking up on their own.
"Mmhm. I also like Cheerios. Arc was right, they're the best."
Lusa laughs then, irises twinkling. Esper thinks about how he hasn't had a conversation like this in years. It feels good. "You got a sweet tooth, eh?"
"Guilty as charged."
Its weird not to expect yelling, or blows, but he can't say he minds at all. In fact, he wishes things could be this way forever.
He feels like a kid, wishing for an eternity, but that's okay. He's done some sillier things.
"Lusa , I..." He stops again, a mixture of a million ways to say 'thank you' hanging at the tip of his tongue, none feeling quite right. He looks at Lusa, at the way his eyes are softly looking back at him, waiting patiently. Esper swallows, unable to bear such a gaze. He looks down at the carpet.
"It's fine, Es," Lusa says when he stays quiet for a moment too long. Even his voice is soft. He's so different from the first time they'd met.
Esper's brows furrow at the nickname. "Es?" he echoes.
"Ah, don't like it?"
"No, no, I mean... I like it... Just, no one has..." Color rises to Esper's cheeks.
"I like calling you Es. Fits ya!" Lusa grins ear to ear and Esper curses himself for being unable to look for more than a split second each time. A smile tugs at his own lips, though, and something tugs at his heart as well.
"I'll call Arc," Lusa announces after a while. "We can play with him if you'd like."
Espee finds himself nodding, for once not jumping out of his skin when Lusa twists towards the staircase and calls out Arc's name.
It's exhilarating.
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Merry Christmas! (I suck at titles, but this is your Secret Santa story! I hope you like it, I tried to make it extra fluffy for you!)-🎄
    You sighed, rolling out of bed and turning off your alarm. Rubbing your eyes, you grabbed a sharpie off of your bedside table and uncapped it.  “Good morning,” you mutter as you scribble the letters on your arm, “Could you do me a favor, and not write anything on your arms or hands today? I have to do a presentation final today, and I need to dress nicely.” You recapped the pen, then grabbed your phone; scrolling through a few apps while you waited for his response. You felt the familiar tingling on the side of your left calf and you pulled the leg of your sweatpants up to read what he had written.
    “Use real paper for chem notes today, got it.” You smile at his neat handwriting and the quick smiley face that was drawn at the end of the note. You gather up your clothes for the day and walk to the bathroom to shower and get ready for school. As you stand in the water, you scrub at the ink on your forearm until it disappears, tainting the soap a little as it washes out. Humming as you dry off you glance at your wrist.
    “Hey,…” The small circle of evenly drawn holly berries begin to bloom around your wrist, followed by their trademark jagged leaves. A few small snowflakes fall around the tiny red leaves until you’re left with a festive bracelet drawn on. Another tingle starts on your leg, under his last note. “Good luck!”
    You quickly dry off your leg and uncap the Sharpie again. Doodling a quick snowman next to his note, you add a thank you. The rest of your morning follows its usual routine, and the hand-drawn bracelet matches your red ¾ sleeve shirt so perfectly that you decide to skip on the other jewelry you had originally picked to go with the outfit. As usual, you meet up with your best friend on the bus. When you sit down next to her, you excitedly pull your sleeve up to show her the bracelet from your soulmate.
    “Y/N, that is adorable. I can’t believe you two don’t know anything about each other, how is that even possible?” she asks, holding your arm and running her finger over the intricate designs, “Devin and i practiced writing our names on our skin, we’ve always known everything about each other.”
    You roll your eyes. “Come on, Erica, you both went to the same preschool, of course you were gonna find out about it soon. Your teacher told your parents that they he had drawn cat ears on your face and he had matching ones.” You pull your arm out of her grasp. “And we know things about each other.”
    Erica rolls her eyes in return. “Sure. Just not important things like where you live, phone numbers, or, I don’t know? Maybe your first names?” stepping down from the bus, the two of you split directions, heading for your lockers. You jump as the locker next to your’s opens.
    “Sorry y/n,” Peter Parker apologizes as you close your’s a little, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
    You smile as you load your books into your locker. “Don’t worry about it.” You turn your head, hoping he doesn’t see you nervously biting your lip. “Are you going anywhere for Christmas?”
    He shrugs as he stuffs his own books into his locker, exchanging his heavy coat for an incredibly soft looking blue sweater. “I can’t really. I’ve got a lot of work to do and Aunt May is sick, so traveling isn’t really an option. What about you?”
     You pull on your own sweater, careful not to mess up your hair. “Nope. My family decided to keep it simple this year. I barely managed to convince my dad to put the tree up.” You flashed him a smile as both of your lockers shut. “Good luck with your finals today. The last day before break is always the worst.”
    He laughs and you can’t help but smile a little at him standing there with his books in one hand and his backpack slung over one shoulder, while his other hand runs through his wavy hair. He nods at you as the bell rings and he takes a step backwards towards his class. “Yeah, you too, y/n. May the odds be ever in your favor.”
    You laugh and throw up a quick Hunger Games salute before heading off to your own classroom. The rest of the day goes about as well as you expected. Your teachers were all a bizarre mix of stressed and “I don’t care anymore,” which made for an interesting dynamic. Most of the students were hovering a little closer to the panicked end of the spectrum, and usually, you would have been right there with them. Today, however, the little ring of holly around your wrist seemed to take the edge off of your anxiety. You kept catching yourself running your fingers over it all day long, and after your presentation final, your teacher complimented you on it, assuming you had drawn it yourself.
     “My English teacher liked the bracelet,” you scribbled on your arm, glad to finally have the space open for communication again, “She said you should look into a job with art.”
    “I’m honored, really.” You grinned down at the sloppy little smile that had popped up on your arm. “But I’ve got my plate full with other ideas for now.”
    By the end of the day, it had warmed up more than you had expected for December in New York. The sun was shining and all things considered, you didn’t really want to wear your heavy winter coat. In fact, even your sweater was a bit much. You stuffed what you needed into your backpack and pull it on, then you roll up your sleeves and drape the coat over your arms. Pulling your phone out to text Erica, you feel your heart drop a bit as you read the text already there from her.  “Sorry, y/n/n, Devin is taking me out for coffee. I’m not going to be on the bus with you. But we should do a movie night over break! Twilight marathon at my place on Tuesday sound good?” You pocket your phone, deciding to wait until you can check with your parent’s schedule before committing to anything and walk to the bus stop. You groan as you watch the bus pull away from the curb, leaving you to wait the twenty minutes for the next one to come by. You sit down on the bench and pull out your phone as you watch a man approach from the corner of your eye.  Relax, y/n, you think to yourself, I’m sure he’s harmless. You glance back at him briefly and feel your heart skip a beat. He certainly doesn’t look harmless. He’s huge, with a weathered and beaten looking face and rough hands stuffed into the pockets of his tattered coat. You quickly look back to your phone, hoping he didn’t see you looking.
     “Hey,” he growls, “what’s in your bag?” You ignore him, digging in your coat pocket for your headphones. “hey I’m talkin’ to you. What’s in the bag?” You find your headphones finally and jam them into your ears, then plug them in before putting some music on. “Don’t ignore me.” You finally decide it’s not worth it. You’ll walk to the next bus stop, hey, you’ll walk all the way home at this point. You stand up, and start to walk away when the man roughly grabs your arm.  “I said don’t ignore me, girl.” The man snarls at you when you spin around to face him.
    “Let go of me!” You try to pull your arm out of his grasp, but he holds on tightly. You pull again, and this time you break free, but he snatches at you, catching your sweater and holding on still. When you pull again, he pulls too and the combined force causes your sweater to rip.
    “Hey!” The shout catches you by surprise and you spin to face it just in time to see a red and blue blur swing past, slamming its extended feet into the chest of your attacker. “She said leave her alone!” You watch in a bit of awe as Spider-Man quickly shoots several blasts of webs at the man, who now lies trapped to the pavement. Placing a foot on the man’s chest and his fists on his hips, he turned to face you, still looking down at the attacker. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.” He looks up at you and you could almost see a nervous smile under his mask. “Are you ok miss?” He asks.
    “I, uh, I -I think so, yeah. Yeah, thank you.” You stammer, “thank you.”
    Spider-Man waves a hand. “Don’t mention it. That’s my job. Here, let me get that for you.” He steps down from his captured prize and walks over to you. You glance down at the ground and see what he meant. In the struggle, you dropped your coat without noticing it.
    “Oh!” You gasp, dropping to your knee to pick it up, “I can’t believe I dropped it! Chances are I just would have forgotten it, I’m so shaken up.” You babble, your heart beating out of your chest.
    “Hey, don’t worry…” The young hero trails off a little as he grabs it too, staring at your wrist. “Nice, uh, nice tattoo.” He stutters as he takes your hand and helps you stand up.
    You blush. “That? Oh, uh it’s not a tattoo, my um,” your mind races, trying to think of how to word it, “my boyfriend drew it for me.” You finally say, “for good luck.”
    “Luck.” Spider-Man repeats softly. He shakes his head a little. “What’s your name?” He asks.
    “y/n.” You reply, “y/n y/ln.”
    “Well miss y/n, need a ride home? After something like that I’m sure you’re ready to sort of just chill out a bit.” he offers you his hand again, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.
    “Really?” You ask, “are you serious?”
    “Sure,” he shrugs, “so long as your boyfriend doesn’t mind.”
    You shake your head, “no, no he wouldn’t. Thank you.” You take his hand and he pulls you close,wrapping his arm around you under your backpack. You reach up and put your arms around his shoulders as he shoots a web to the upper levels of a nearby building.
    “Hey, what about me?” The crook calls from the sidewalk.  Spider-Man looks back at him, “Well either those webs will dissolve in two hours, or the cops will be here to pick you up when someone calls you in. Either way, you’re stuck there for now.” He looks back to you, “where to, miss?” He asks.  You give him the name and address of your building and he swings off, pulling you up with him. The air whips through your hair and you feel a laugh bubbling up inside of you as you swing along with him. You let it out, and the wind rips it away so fast that you hardly even hear it. He lands in front of your building and you step back a little from him.
    “Thank you,” you say, “for everything, really.”
    “It was my pleasure,” he says with a flourish and a bow, “just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” He takes your hand in one of his, and uses the other to pull the mask up, revealing his mouth and nose, then places a kiss on the back of your hand. “See you around, miss y/n!”
    He pulls the mask back down and spins a web, pulling himself away just as abruptly as he had appeared. You stood outside your building for about five minutes, just blinking until the honk and shout from a cab driver caught your attention. You waved at him, apologizing for the confusion, then dashed inside.
    As you stood in the elevator you pulled out a Sharpie and scribbled a quick note. “Guess who just met Spider-Man?!?”
    “uh-oh, should I be worried? Did he sweep you off your feet and steal you from me?”
    “No, not at all.” You grin a little and scribble over the answer. “Ok maybe just a little.” a small sad face appeared and you rolled your eyes. “Kidding!!”
    A smile took over the sad face. “Oh, hey, what do you want for Christmas?”
    “What? We’ve never done Christmas before. That’s in total violation of the pact!” You scribble quickly. Before you can keep writing any further argument, however, a reply pops up.
    “I know, I know! I’m just making conversation, ok?”
    You finally let out a defeated sigh and roll your eyes, glancing around your room. You toss your bag and coat down on your bed, and pull your torn sweater off, frowning as you You with the fraying edge of the gaping hole. Letting out a defeated sigh, you pick the Sharpie back up. “I really could use a new sweater.”
    “Yeah, honestly I never have enough of those.” You felt yourself relax a little bit as you fell into your normal routine. It took you most of the next week to really shake off the aftermath from the attack, but anytime your nightmares woke you up, help was only a quick note pin your hand away.
    As usual, you were the first one to wake up on Christmas morning, and when you rolled out of bed, you were a little surprised to see a note already on the back of your hand. “Merry Christmas!” You smiled a giddy grin, and wrote a reply. You jump as someone tapped on your window. Spinning around quickly, you were more than a little surprised to see Spider-Man standing on the fire escape outside. You crossed your room quickly and pulled the window open.
    “Oh my god, what-? Come in, it’s freezing out here!” You said, leaning your head out the window.
    He waved a hand at you. “No, thank you. My suit has a heater. Anyways, I just stopped by to give you something.” He pulled a package out from behind his back. “Merry Christmas.” With shaking hands, you took the package from him. Whatever was inside was soft, and it was very well wrapped. As you ran your fingers over it, you frowned, looking at your name scrawled over the red wrapping paper. Something about the handwriting seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.
    “Go on, open it!” The young hero said impatiently as he sat down on the railing of the escape. You smiled and leaned forward, stepping out onto the escape as well before ripping into the paper. Inside was a soft blue sweater, folded neatly. You smiled and held it up, laying it over your torso, seeing how it would fit.
    “Thank you, it's….” Your grin faded a little and you looked up at him. “It’s perfect. How did you know?”
     He didn’t say anything. He stepped down from the railing and pulled off a glove, then he peeled his sleeve halfway up his forearm. Using his other hand, he took your’s, amd gently pulled your sleeve back as well. You gasped as you looked down. Your handwriting and sloppy doodles were scrawled across the back of his hand, and his neat chemistry notes and even artwork crawled up your arm. You placed your palm against his, and marveled at the matching ink that ran all the way to your elbows. You smiled widely at him, and met his eyes. He had taken the mask off, and now you saw him. His warm brown eyes sparkled and the slight morning breeze ruffled his curls a little. “Merry Christmas, y/n.” He whispered before leaning in and kissing you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling into the kiss a little and pinning his sweater between the two of you.
You pulled back from the kiss and ran your fingers through his hair.
“Merry Christmas, Peter.”
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