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#i literally had to split one scene
literary-heights · 1 year
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something something very hot take i wish. more characters got to do crazy perception shattering things of their own free will without either 1. something else manipulating the situation or 2. something random getting in the way
#i'm going to sound like a broken record to my dear friends bc i literally talk about this so much but like#number one example easy xin mo#i wish it had been more of a like. exploration of how fucked up binghe is because of everything he's been through#and like a free will decision to do something that drastic#and then see how that changes the way people see him (i DONT think it would really change the ending but)#and ALSO i personally think it would work better with sqq s arc of the consequences of his actions affecting people but oh well#demon sword 😔😔😔😔😔#number two example monty's gun in noblemans guide i literally DO NOT shut up abt this scene#let him kill someone. let adrien be so confident that he is going to die and that his brother would never kill someone#THEN LET HIM FIRE THE GUN AND HAVE IT FUCKING WORK#because with this it's like. there's a split second of hey maybe this will change their relationship but then it's never revisited because#it wasn't actually that significant of a turning point in their dynamic because adrien didn't have to watch monty kill someone#and from my perspective as the reader i've ALREADY seen monty kill someone but not without heat of the moment#and it would be a great testament to his development without giving adrien up as narrator#AND. it would be an important moment for monty because he would have been willing to kill someone over his brother who up until then#he didn't really seem to care about???#but NOOOOOO the gun had to be broken and not fire correctly#baz. shut up challenge
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dirt-str1der · 1 year
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Ngh awake thinking about the way phantasmagorias author portrays the majima everywhere alert through prose like YOW the second before the door slams open you already feel ten thousand icy cold needles shooting into your skin so deep they pierce to the marrow, like youve walked into a spiderweb spun with threads of fate and theyre all wrapping around you and trying to converge inside your body and then the door opens and its him. Its really him and you have every reason to square your shoulders up and tell him get the FUCK out of my home
#Yakuza liveblog#like aoaoayooouuu i lovee this fic so much i consider it the Best One. i adore how utterly faithful it is to the games even if the author#despises the kiwamis LOL but whenever i read it i go EEK !!! and start kicking my feet like a girl#i linked chapter two which was the start of the encounter but chapter two has many many many MANY terrible scenes where kiryus just being#fucked up and over and sideways by literally everything and it sucks to read#and you can really tell how unhappy he is because instead of letting his fists talk first his confusion actually splits through his rage#beacause the sight of majima alone ... dangerous and a stranger to this new life hes destroying his back and hands to build... kiryu#recognoses him as not a ‘friend’ really but an Opportunity. hes shot back a year into the past where every songle day would be bloody#knuckles and split lips and hes comfortable in a body aching with bruises and pumping hot blood through his veins. he fucking hates#construction work he hates that he cant make enough to even buy haruka some new damn shoes he hates that his days are packed full with#below minumum wage hours he hates that people out there need help and hes forced to keep his head down and work work work himself to death#and back again just to make instant noodles for breakfast for his daughter and tap water for himself ... but he will do it. he will keep#doing it for as long as it takes if it means haruka can keep going to school and haruka will keep going to school even if she hates it#because her papas working so damn hard for her to have the shot at life that he didnt. haruka the same girl whos going to take on someone#elses dream and make it come true. not for herself because thats not what she wanted at all... someone told her papa that its every little#girls dream to be a star and he believed it .. so she believes it too. even if its not true. she kept believing it when she realised that#mireis dreams had landed squarely on her shoulders and she had to make it all come true just so she could come running back to do what she#actually wants !!! she wants her dad she wants her siblings she wants her family !!!! thats just how it is sometimes !! she inherited kiryus#tendency to be the big hero and yet kiryu is just a tad more selfish than she is because he saw majima in that doorway and kamurochos scent#flooded his shitty little apartment again and he wanted it badly so so badly that he couldnt help but let majima in#hello by the way hii :)#helioshellion is a fucking genius even if i cant spell their url ever
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fruity-phrog · 9 months
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Okay, I saw someone say that Nimona, while being good representation, “didn’t take the big step forward in queer rep that everyone says it did”.
That is wrong. So wrong, my dude.
Yes, an explicit and open queer relationship in children’s cartoons is not new, per ce. Hell, just this year, two popular kids’ cartoons had the main character in an open, adorable, plot-based queer romance. But this is different for a few reasons.
Reason number one, it isn’t left in suspense. Yes, they had that split for three odd weeks, but they started the film as a couple. One of the very first scenes is them together as a couple, Ambrosius saying he loves Ballister, them holding hands, Ballister leaning on Ambrosius’ shoulder. Ambrosius says he loves Ballister three times during the film, and none of them are any more than halfway in. It’s very clear, from their very first interaction, that they are an established relationship, which isn’t something I’ve seen...at all in other animation.
Secondly, they are the plot. Ambrosius not believing Ballister, Ambrosius cutting off Ballister’s arm, Ballister trying to get the video to Ambrosius - this is what drives the plot. In any other children’s animation with queer relationships, the relationship is not the main focus. Even The Owl House, which is so amazing with its constant representation, would still make sense if Luz and Amity never happened. But Nimona’s plot wouldn’t make sense without Ballister and Ambrosius’ relationship. It, quite simply, can’t be erased. It could work as a friendship, yes, but that’s the point. They could have just been two close friends that fell on opposite sides of a fight, but they weren’t. They were two lovers that fell on opposite sides of a fight. 
Thirdly, they aren’t sanitized for “family viewing”. An emerging trend in children’s animation is to only have mlm relationships as fathers to make them seem more “family friendly”. With the exception of Kipo, there really isn’t many tv shows or films that places light upon an mlm relationship. And if it does, it'll be a teen relationship because teenagers being queer tends to come across as less “dirty” and more “innocent”. But Goldenheart is none of these things. They are adults without the mollifying aspect of having a family. And on top of that, they fight. They wield swords and they get bloody and they shoot at things and get angry and yell. They aren’t “clean” and “innocent”.
As well as this, they are in a film. Films are far more accessible than tv shows. You have to watch twenty seven episodes before Lumity in toh is canon. Troy kisses Benson on the eleventh episode of Kipo. And there are two hundred and eighty three episodes of Adventure Time before Marceline and Bonnie kiss. But with a film, the queerness is much more forward - especially in Nimona, where it’s literally the second scene. Animated films hardly ever display queer relationships, but Nimona did.
Finally - they aren’t perfect. I don’t know about you, but three weeks of thinking your boyfriend/maybe ex is a murderer? Doesn’t sound like a healthy few weeks to me. I have only seen big relationship arguments portrayed in straight relationships in cartoons - think Star Vs The Forces Of Evil - whereas queer relationships either have the massive fight prior to being canonically gay - She Ra - or have conflict, not arguments, that are dealt with quickly - Dead End/The Owl House. But Goldenheart? Goldenheart suffers. Their relationship is pushed to such extreme boundaries as for them to be pretty much exes throughout most of the movie. And yet, they are clearly healthy, happy and very much in love at the end. 
TL;DR - Nimona is amazing with the queer representation, and it is a milestone for LGBTQ+ cartoons. Not only is the relationship romantic for the entire movie, the plot is driven by Ambrosius and Ballister’s sort-of-break-up. In short, they are treated the same way straight people are. They have flaws, they have massive arguments, they have plot importance, they have backstory. They are in love. And that’s what matters more than anything else. 
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just-jordie-things · 9 months
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you know you got me in your pocket - okkotsu yuuta
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word count: 13k warnings: light swearing.  reader has a cursed technique that has to do with healing but i don’t explain it bc i’m lazy. summary: the path from friends to lovers may take time but it is a simple, true love they share more info: ultimate friends to lovers fic this IS the template a/n: loosely based on this fanart i found on pinterest and also the song always forever by cults bcuz i love that song its so friends to lovers coded ___
[ you and me, always, forever ]
Unlike most cases of friends who harbor crushes for each other but never seemed to figure it out, (y/n) had taken a liking to Yuuta the day they met.  She’d known right away that there was something about him that drew her to him like a magnet, something adorably mysterious, strangely alluring, and completely thrilling.
Seeing him on campus wasn’t a surprise.  Gojo had told her about his recruitment, and upon giving her further detail she’d lovingly told him it was more of a kidnapping.  He’d laughed.  And since then nothing had really changed.  She continued her studies with Shoko in the infirmary, only occasionally seeing the Six Eyes when he needed a new audience to bother, and in fact, she’d almost forgotten the news of a new student her age.
It’s not like there were many instances where she could be reminded.  She didn’t see the other students at Jujutsu Tech often, since they spent their time training to be sorcerers, while her cursed technique was more equipped for the behind the scenes of jujutsu society.  
So when she feels a heavy presence of cursed energy looming through the front gates, the hair on the back of her neck stands up, and she’s unusually drawn out of her studies to scan the area for the source of the prickle traveling down her spine.
If she didn’t know better, she might have just assumed it was just Gojo.  But it only takes a split second for her to identify this as someone else entirely.  She’s not sure if her shiver is due to fear or intrigue, but either way she just has to learn more, doesn’t she? 
And so you could imagine her surprise when she finally catches the sight of the sorcerer carrying all of this cursed energy, dragging along the main path on his way to the main building.  She can’t recall his name right away, but she assumes he’s the new kid that Gojo had told her about a week or so prior.
She’s far enough away that she doesn’t get a good look at him, but she can see enough from where she sits amongst the trees.  He’s not at all what she had been expecting.
He didn’t look like the piece of shit egotistical douchebag that she had assumed he’d be when Gojo had told her about him.
And if she couldn’t feel the cursed energy radiating off of him even from this far away, she might’ve thought he was a non-sorcerer altogether.
His shoulders sagged like gravity was heavier on him than most people.  He moved slowly.  His sneakers scraped along the pavement.  His hands were fiddling with each other anxiously, fingers catching and pulling and twisting over and over.
Perhaps she was letting her curiosity make her naive, but any fear she might have felt when he first entered the courtyard dissipated as she tracked his awkward movements towards the school.  Awkward.  It was the perfect way to describe her first impression of him.
He hadn’t seemed to notice her during her assessment of him.  And this was proven when their paths did properly cross.
It had happened late one evening, shortly after Yuuta’s initial admittance to Jujutsu Tech.  It only took one text from Shoko for her to be out of bed, in her uniform, and on her way to the infirmary.  Apparently, Yuuta was also racing around campus, for whatever reason, and that’s how he (almost literally) ran into her.
“Oh!” 
His greeting was just as awkward as her first impression of him.  She can’t help but laugh a little bit.  He’s clearly flustered, his eyes wide and his mouth not making any proper words, and the large knife in his hand looks severely out of place.
But he must see her look straight at it while he’s trying to figure out how to politely ask who the hell she was because he’s never seen her before- because suddenly he remembers how to speak.
“This isn’t mine!” 
He doesn’t mean to shriek, but he feels like he should explain why he’s running around at night with a knife.  It doesn’t dawn on him at all that she’s used to people casually carrying weapons around, and this little knife isn’t even close to being a concern for her.
Nonetheless, she goes along with it.  She should be rushing to the infirmary, but something keeps her put before him.
“Oh?” She tries not to laugh as she takes in his heavy wince.  “While I find your courage outstanding, I’m not sure this is the place you want to go stealing people’s knives,” She’s only teasing, but it does nothing to relieve the panic on his face.  “You know, cause people around here don’t need knives to kill you,” 
Yuuta swallows, and (y/n) finally gives him a break and shakes her head as she laughs to herself.
He expresses his anxiousness in small shuffles of his feet, and he tries to laugh along but the sound is strained and nervous.  If she knew him better and understood him, she likes to think she’d tell him to lighten up, but that feels like a bold step, so she tries to ease his anxiety with more subtlety.
“You didn’t spook me with that knife,” She clarifies.  “I’d be more scared of all that cursed energy you’ve got, if anything” 
“O-oh” 
“But I’m not,” She tells him, matter-of-factly.
He gives her a look like he’s not sure if he should believe her.  With the way the other students had reacted when they first met, he’s surprised she doesn’t have him in a chokehold right now.  Instead, she stands before him without a defensive stance, and she gives him a small smile.
“But… what are you doing out this late?” She can’t help but have curiosity about what he was doing there in the first place.  “Aren’t you all going out on an assignment first thing in the morning?”
Normally, she didn’t listen much when Gojo rambled on about his teachings.  However yesterday’s lessons with Shoko had been few and far between, so when her old friend stopped by for entertainment, she boredly listened along while he bragged about taking his class on a group outing.  She supposed that little piece of information became useful for small talk now.
“Yeah, well,” Yuuta sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.  “I was supposed to return this earlier, but I forgot, and now I…” 
His words trail off, along with his eyes as he turns to stare at the floor out of embarrassment.
“I got lost” 
“It’s Maki’s, isn’t it?” She asks knowingly, even though she’s not familiar with this knife.
Yuuta nods.
“I’ll show you the way” She says, gesturing for him to follow her, and walking off before he could really comprehend what she was offering.  His sneakers squeak on the linoleum floor as he rushes after her a few seconds delayed.
He takes a minute or two before he finds the courage to say something.
“Thank you,” He settles, peeking over at her from the corner of his eye.  “I’m Yuuta, by the way” 
She turns to give him a beam as she replies, “I know,”
It has a lump forming in his throat, his chest filling with something warm and akin to bashfulness.  He’d never seen her before, and he was certain he would have remembered if they’d met, especially since she was so pretty, but she appeared to be his age too, and he wondered why she hadn’t been around for any classes, or training sessions.
“I’m (y/n)” She introduces herself after a beat passes.  Yuuta wants to say something more, but he doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything at all.
He fidgets with the knife as he follows her through the corridors.  It’s a large building, and the longer they walk, the more he’s grateful he hadn’t gotten more lost than he had.  It takes a few minutes until she finally stops at a door, and slides it open.  Yuuta recognized it as soon as it’s contents were revealed.
Every inch of the walls were filled with weapons.  Racks with blades and staffs of all shapes and sizes, shelves of an assortment of more alternative weapons, he’d been in here when Gojo had given him a speedy tour on his first day.  Although now that he’s not being rushed from room to room, his gaze travels around the small space, taking in every deadly tool here.
“You’ll get used to it” (y/n) speaks, and he’s drawn out of his reverie when she plucks the knife from his hands to put it back in it’s proper place.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to any of this” He mumbles back, eyes caught on a rather daunting gun propped up among other things.
Nunchucks and knives were one thing.  He was pretty sure that was an AK-47.  He’d only ever seen those in movies.
(y/n) chuckles softly, amused by how out of place he seemed.  For a guy with more cursed energy than he knew what to do with, she found it interesting how juvenile he came across.
Not that it was a bad thing.  It was sort of… refreshing, if she thought about it.
“You will,” She assured him kindly.  “It’ll feel weird for a while, but, yaknow.  Eventually everyone settles in, right?” 
He tears his eyes away from the machine gun to see that she’s giving him a small smile, and he doesn’t know her very well, or at all, but he can tell that she’s being genuine.
“I guess”
He doesn’t know what else to say.
“Well, I have to get going to a lesson,” She explains, jerking her thumb back towards the door.  “You good to get back to your dorm? I probably wouldn’t get in trouble if I explained I was just helping the new kid” 
Yuuta nods, the movement awkward, and shaky.
“Yeah, I’m good, I think” He doesn’t sound so sure, but (y/n) assumes the best way for him to learn his way around is to get lost just a little.
“Alright, I’ll see ya around then,” She gives him a wave as she ducks out of the small armory.  “Good luck with your assignment tomorrow!”
Her voice carries as she jogs through the corridors to quickly get to where Shoko was waiting, leaving Yuuta to linger, a bit dumbfounded and bewildered by the whole interaction.
He supposed he’d gotten her name, but he still had no clue who she was.  He’d have to make a better effort to reach out next time their paths crossed.  She was the first person here to give him a semi-warm welcome, after all.
When (y/n) arrived at the infirmary with a brighter-than-usual smile and the remnants of a blush on her cheeks, Shoko eyed her curiously, but didn’t outwardly call her out on the strange demeanor.
[ say you’ll stay, never be severed ]
The next time Yuuta does see (y/n), he’s sitting alone at a picnic table in the courtyard with only the company of his lunch bag.  He sees her walking out of the building with a bag on her shoulder.  She’s clearly on a mission, but he finds himself calling out to her and waving his hand anyways.
He assumes she’ll give him a polite nod and keep heading on her way, but she stops in her tracks to turn his way, waving back, before she’s actually walking over to him.
It’s embarrassing to admit, but Yuuta panics a bit.  He had yet to form any solid enough friendships with the other students in his year, hence the lunching alone out here, and he had a worry that soon she would also see him as a loner and an outsider, and she’d avoid him too.
But as she approaches the wooden table, she gives him a smile so friendly he could never believe it was forced.
“Hey,” Even her voice sounds kind.  “You eating alone?” 
“Uh-” Yuuta glances around as if looking for an excuse, but the bento box in front of him and lack of any other person around is evidence enough.  “Yeah” He replies sheepishly.
Here it comes, Yuuta braces himself, the beginning of her thinking he’s a loner.  He shouldn’t have even held onto that scrap of hope when she’d walked this way, but here he was, holding his breath.
“Want company?”
His head turns back to her, assessing if she really meant it, and seeing that small smile still curled on her lips, he gives her a short nod.
“Yeah,” He answers.  “Yeah, that’d be… nice” 
Her small smile turns into a grin as she sits on the bench across from him, setting her bag on the table.
“How are you settling in?” She asks him kindly, and he gives a weak shrug of his shoulders.
“I guess… as well as I can,” He says honestly, and she nods back in understanding.  He pushes past the urge to sit in silence where he knows he can’t say the wrong thing, and continue talking to her.  She’s nice, he tells himself.  She’s nice, and I want to make friends here.  I want to be happy here.  “I think everyone’s a little afraid of me, to be honest,” He admits.  “Or they’re annoyed with how behind all of them that I am” 
“Maki can be a little stand-offish,” (y/n) thinks aloud.  “And Inumaki is hard to get to know at first.  But he’s a really nice guy once you do get to know him.  Just don’t be nervous when he’s silent.  He’s a goofball,” 
Yuuta takes her advice to heart, hoping that she could give him all the keys to friendship he’d been lacking.  He nods earnestly.
“And so is Panda,” She continued.  “But it’s been awhile since there’s been someone new around here.  That doesn’t really happen for us” 
“Really?” He asks, and she nods.
“Yeah.  Most of these people have known each other since they were young.  Or at least are aware of each other’s clan politics” 
“I see” Yuuta mumbles, feeling yet again like an outsider.  (y/n) can tell this information doesn’t sit well with him.
“I think it’s nice,” She says boldly, and truthfully.  He stares at her like she just said something ridiculous.  “When the only people you get to see every day are people you’ve known your whole life, it can be sorta lonely,” She admits with a small chuckle.  “It’ll be nice to get to know someone new,” 
She leans over the table a bit, setting her elbows down so she can rest her head in her hands.
“If that’s not too forward” She says with a bashful smile.
Yuuta blinks once, twice, before shaking his head with certainty.
“It’s not” He says, fast.
“Good,” (y/n’s) beam brightens.  “Want to have lunch with me again tomorrow?” 
He nods again, his nerves starting to melt away, letting him smile back at her.
“Will you be in class tomorrow?” He asks hopefully.  Maybe now he’ll finally have someone he can sit with, even if he’s still too shy to strike up a conversation, at least he won’t feel so alone all the time.
“Oh,” (y/n’s) lips quickly fall to a frown.  “I’m actually not one of Gojo’s students,” She tells him, and it makes her sad to see him deflate so fast.  “I’m training in the infirmary, with Shoko.  Have you met her?” 
Yuuta shakes his head.
“I don’t think so” 
“Well I’ll introduce you sometime,” She tells him.  “But I don’t have a decent enough cursed technique to be a sorcerer, so I’m studying under her in order to go more into the… background things” She explains.
“I see,” Yuuta tries not to let his disappointment show, so as not to make her feel bad.  He focuses instead on getting to know her better.  “So you’re working in, like, the medical field then?”
(y/n) nods her head from side to side.
“Something like that,” She chuckles.  “It’s mostly watching Shoko use her technique to heal injuries after rougher assignments.  I don’t get to use mine too much, but I’m starting to learn how to heal myself, so that’s a start, I suppose” 
“That’s cool!” 
(y/n’s) eyes blink wide in surprise.
“You can heal yourself?”
“I mean, I healed a papercut once” She laughs bashfully.  In comparison to Shoko’s reverse cursed technique, doing a shoddy job at patching up a small slice on her finger seemed like a joke.  But Yuuta grins like he’s never heard anything more interesting.
“You’re lucky,” He tells her, and she raises a brow at him, wondering if this was all some elaborate prank where he’d wind up laughing in her face at how weak she was compared to everyone else, compared to him.  “That’s a really useful ability.  That’s not background at all.  It’s helpful” 
As she processes the kind words, (y/n) wonders if this is why she’d felt drawn to him when they met a few nights ago.  Underneath the shy exterior Yuuta displayed was nothing but kindness, and warmth.  She could feel it in her cheeks, and in her chest.  Her heart even stuttered a little.
“I mean, I barely have a handle on it,” She admits.  “I don’t think I’ve been all that helpful to anyone” 
“But you’re learning, right?” Yuuta shrugs a shoulder in understanding.  “I guess that’s sorta how I feel, too,” He realized, dropping his gaze to his forgotten lunch as he thought about it.  “I just want to be…”
He trails off, but (y/n) waits with eager anticipation for him to continue his thought.
“Useful”
His voice is quiet, and his expression is unsure as he looks back up at her.  Suddenly feeling like that was far too pathetic of a thing to say to someone that he’d like to become friends with.  But before he can backtrack and supply a better word, like strong or courageous, she’s grinning.
Her face nearly splits in two as her beam stretches from ear to ear, all teeth and twinkling eyes to match.  A small laugh escapes her before she starts to nod passionately.
“That’s exactly how it feels,” She agrees, filling him with relief so strong it’s visible in the way his shoulders relax.  (y/n) notices, but doesn’t say anything.  Something warm and fuzzy nestles in her chest, and she has a good feeling about this new friendship blossoming.
Truth was, (y/n) got along fine with the other students here, but they’d only cross paths on occasion and she couldn’t say that she was necessarily close to any of them, simply on good terms enough to catch up in brief passing with one another.  The disconnect between her studies and the rest of the sorcerers-in-training around here was a trench of a gap, and if she was honest with herself, it could prove to be a little lonely.
Shoko was a great teacher, she was kind and involved, but she was still a teacher.  Gojo was… about the same, with just a bit more peskiness to him when it came to involving himself.  But it was all in good nature, he knew that she was a bit isolated here.
But then Yuuta came along.  And even just this short interaction had her glowing with excitement at finally forming a connection with someone.  He probably thought she was just being pleasant since he was the new kid and he’d been eating lunch alone, but it couldn’t be further from the truth.  She had a genuine interest in him that had started innocently enough, but she had a feeling it would only blossom into something more.
“I think that we’re going to be-” 
She’s about to voice this thought, about to tell him that she knows in her heart that they’ll make excellent friends, but her timing was just a tad too slow, and she was interrupted by her phone ringing.
With the intention of silencing it and ignoring the call for now, she gives him an apologetic look before pulling it out of her pocket, only to huff when she realizes it’s not a call she can just silence.
“Sorry,” She frowns.  “It’s Shoko, I should take this, she’s probably got something for me back at the lab” 
“It’s alright,” Yuuta smiles as he shakes his head in understanding.  “I get it” 
“Thanks,” (y/n) grabs her bag as she jumps up from the table, disappointed to cut their time short, but excited to see what Shoko would have in store for her today.  Before she can race off, she pauses, one hand gripping the strap of her bag and the other occupied with the phone that’s still ringing.  “Lunch tomorrow though, right?” She double checks.
The pink that dusts Yuuta’s cheeks is undeniable, and it makes a smile bloom on her face, too.
“Right” He says with a shy nod while he rubs his clammy hands over his knees.
“Alright,” (y/n) nods back, and she’d like to think she’s smooth, but she’s blushing just the same.  “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Okkotsu” 
She takes off before she can see his face turn from pink to red, his enthusiasm for having plans with a friend- a cute friend- shining in the heat of his cheeks.  
He spends the rest of his lunch period trying to think of things to talk to her about tomorrow, questions to ask, stories to share.  He racked his brain for fifteen minutes before going to class, where he then gets a little lost in space as he wonders about it some more.
[ you know you got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around ]
When (y/n) feels that lingering fuzziness in her chest turn into something more, it was shortly after she’d spent the better half of an hour telling Shoko that her friendship with Okkotsu Yuuta was just that.  Friendship.
“If you say so,” The woman shrugged a shoulder as she pulled the gloves off of her hands, getting ready to wrap up the day.  “Just sayin’.  You talk about him a lot” 
(y/n) gave her a look, blindly tossing her own latex gloves into the trash.
“He’s my friend, I like talking about him,” She explains with nonchalance, even though her heart stuttered in her chest a little bit, as it did every time she mentioned him.  “And I’m also a boring person.  There’s not much to talk about”
“That’s not true, but whatever” Shoko brushes off the lame excuse, and (y/n) rejoices inwardly that the topic can be dropped before Yuuta actually shows up in a few minutes.  
Like most days, they had plans to meet up for lunch, except today they’ll be spending it with the rest of the first years.  After a couple of months, Yuuta finally felt like he belonged here, and had made decent friendships with his peers.  This morning he had texted her to ask if it was alright if they joined them.
[yuuta] : panda offered us seats at the lunch table with inumaki and maki too. do you want to have lunch with them? 
[yuuta] : ok if not!! just wanted to extend the invitation !!
It had made (y/n) smile when that second text popped up so quickly on her phone after she’d opened the first right away.  She could practically see him back pedaling just in case she wasn’t comfortable with a larger group for lunch.  Of course she was, she’d typed back an agreement with a little smiley face within a few seconds of reading the texts, but it was sweet that he’d stick to their usual plan of just the two of them.
Don’t get her wrong, (y/n) had grown to really cherish the time the two of them spent together.  She got to know Yuuta very well during their lunch breaks, and during a few hangouts after lessons and training, too.  She was happy to see how much he opened up once you got to know him, and she loved learning more about him every day.  He was kind, and funny in that nervous sort of way, and he picked up on things quickly.  
The couple of times (y/n) had spent her breaks from the infirmary on the bleachers to watch him train with the other first years, she’d seen a drastic change in his abilities with each session.  It wasn’t often that she was able to slip away long enough to get all the way to the bleachers, watch for a bit while having a snack or catching up on some reading, and then get back to the infirmary before Shoko called her out on trying to ditch her lessons.  Still, she was always impressed with how fast of a learner Yuuta was.  Whether it was with cursed energy or with a bamboo staff to practice wielding a proper katana, he seemed to be comfortable with learning how to fight.
In fact the last time she’d watched him, he looked so natural she could have assumed he’d grown up in jujutsu society just like the rest of them.
When he does make an appearance at the infirmary, Shoko notices him outside the door first.  With a smirk, she nods her head to get (y/n’s) attention.
“Your friend is here,” She says with a teasing lilt in her voice, despite her face remaining as stoic as usual.  
(y/n) gives her a look before turning around to see him waiting politely outside.  When their eyes catch, she gives him a smile and waves at him to come in.
“Picking you up for lunch, hm?” Shoko hums.  “What a little gentleman”
(y/n) shoots her another look, this time as if to say be nice when Yuuta walks in.  He’s still wearing his sheath, but the awkward smile and nervous fiddling of his hands makes a sword on his back look out of place.  For some reason, (y/n) has always found his simple juxtapositions adorable.
Despite having met Shoko before, a few times, actually, Yuuta always gets anxious around her.  It was probably her quietly peculiar aura, something (y/n) had grown used to after so much time spent with her, but in comparison to Yuuta’s teacher who’d never learned to revel in peaceful silence, it could be intimidating.
He gave her a small wave and nod in greeting.  Shoko smirked back at him before turning to (y/n).
“You two get back before too long, alright? No funny business” 
Yuuta visibly paled, his mouth opening to make an explanation that wasn’t coming to mind and left him standing there gaping.  (y/n) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, hoisting the strap over her shoulder as she waved Shoko off.
“Bye Shoko” She said with a half-playful glare, before grabbing Yuuta by the sleeve and dragging him right back out the door before he even got the chance to say hello.
It’s not until they’re out in the hall that he finds his voice.
He tugs at his collar to relieve some of the heat from his neck.
“How were lessons today?” He settles for the safe topic of conversation.  Predictably, (y/n) lets out a small laugh.  She always seemed amused when he was uncomfortable.  He had yet to understand why.
“Good,” She’s kind to him today, not teasing him for his flustering.  At least not beyond that little smirk that makes her eyes glint when she looks at him.  “You?”
He nods his head from side to side.
“Maki kicked my ass,” He said sheepishly.  “But I did get a hit today” He said in a quieter voice, but there was still a hint of pride in his voice.  (y/n) beamed at him.  She understood this was a meaningful accomplishment.
“That’s awesome!” She cheered for him.  “You’ll knock her down next time for sure,” 
He thinks she could be messing with him, but when he looks over at her, her beam is nothing but genuine.  He laughs quietly, not as sure as she was, but appreciative of the sentiment nonetheless.
“Just make sure to invite me next time you spar,” (y/n) continues.  “I want to be there for the big day” 
Sometimes, she has a way of speaking that makes Yuuta wonder why she doesn’t really hang out with anyone but him.  She wasn’t exactly a soft person, he supposed it was this line of work they shared, but there was something inherently friendly about her.  He’d noticed it the first time they’d met, of course, and ever since he couldn’t ignore it if he tried.  For whatever reason, she seemed not only to care about him, but she actually believed in him, too.  More and more, Yuuta began to wonder why.
Inumaki, Panda, and Maki are already at a table with their lunches before them when Yuuta and (y/n) arrive.  Panda notices them first, grinning and waving a paw for them to join.
“(y/n)! Long time no see!” His voice holds pure joy upon her arrival, “How’s the infirmary?” 
“Oh, you know,” (y/n) smiles as she shrugs her shoulders.  “Blood.  Bones.  Repeat.  I can’t complain” 
Panda and Toge are sitting on one side of the table, Maki on the other, and (y/n) happily sits beside her.  Yuuta follows shortly.
“Yuuta told me next time, he’s going to knock your ass out,” She says boldly.  Maki raises a brow, her chopsticks stilling over her dish.  “You’ll let me come watch, yeah?” 
Maki’s eyes shift to Yuuta, a glare behind them that has him straightening in his seat.  Maki smirks at his discomfort, and when she turns back to (y/n), she grins ear to ear.
“I do love an audience,” She agrees, her smirk stretching into a grin at the idea.  She looks back to Yuuta, who’s focused intently on his rice.  “You two have been gettin’ real chummy, huh?”
(y/n) simpered at the comment.  Yuuta tucked his chin against his collar in hopes that they wouldn’t notice the way his face bloomed with heat.
“Tuna, tuna” Inuamki giggles as his elbow bumps into Panda’s arm, and he too begins to chuckle as they watch the pair’s reactions to Maki’s simple observation.
“(y/n’s)- uh- she’s-” 
“Yuuta’s a great friend” (y/n) speaks before Yuuta’s stammering can be laughed at any further.
“Must be, to make you finally come hang out with us” Panda says as he tries to quell his amused chuckling.
“Ikura” Toge mutters.
“Yeah,” Panda nods in agreement with the cursed speech user.  “We didn’t think you liked us anymore” 
Yuuta peeks over at (y/n) in his peripheral vision, but she plasters on a smile and shakes her head to disagree.
“Been busy” She says simply.  There is no follow up, no explanation or excuse.  She pops a grape into her mouth and leaves it at that.
Their lunch continues on as expected.  Catching up, teasing, swapping food.  Thirty minutes seem to pass faster than ever.  And despite enjoying himself amongst his friends, Yuuta can’t help but hyperfixate on that small, odd interaction.
It appeared as though (y/n) and the other first years had gotten along just fine.  Even mirroring old friends.  But he couldn’t help but feel like something was off, that things hadn’t always been this way, that there was a rift he hadn’t been present for.  He knows better than to question it straight away, so he matches energy and remains friendly the rest of the break.
But after telling his classmates he’ll meet up with them shortly, he lingers at the table while (y/n) packs up her things.
“That was nice” His voice feels stiff.  He clears his throat.
(y/n) looks up at him as she pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder, a soft smile curling on her lips.
“It was” She affirms.
Yuuta shifts his weight from foot to foot as he tries to find the right thing to say next.  (y/n) watches this, and waits, patiently, for him to continue.
“I mean I… I like having lunch just… us,” He says, slowly, afraid of sounding too forward and insinuating something that could be off putting to her.  “But I’m glad you wanted to hang out with…” 
He struggled to find the right thing to say.  (y/n) tilted her head at him curiously, before providing the words for him.
“Your friends?” She suggests with a small smile.
Yuuta blinks, color spreading over his cheeks before his smile mirrors hers, and then he nods.
“Yeah,” He concurred.  
It must have been a rush of courage that compelled him to say what he did next, because as soon as he said it out loud, blood rushed up his neck and into his cheeks.
“You’re a great friend, too, by the way.  I’m glad you were here.  Or, well, are here”
She laughs, not because what he was was funny, but because she was overcome by delight by his words that she simply couldn’t contain it.  Her fingers curl tightly around her bag, her heart flutters with something sickeningly sweet in her chest.
This was that something more.  This wasn’t just silly eagerness towards a new friend.  This much more.  It was heavy.  It filled her heart until it burst and flooded her body with warmth, traveling down her spine in ticklish sparks, and ending in the tips of her fingers and toes.  It almost felt like cursed energy, the way it buzzed through her excitedly, on it’s own accord, but she knew better.
This was infatuation.  She was infatuated with Yuuta.  She had feelings for Yuuta.
“I’m glad you’re here, too, Yuuta,” She speaks with every genuine bone in her body, now reinforced with that tingling feeling that has her soft smile turning into a full blown grin.  “Really glad” She repeats softly.
He should feel embarrassed because he knows he’s blushing and he’s having a hard time holding eye contact with her, but for some reason, he doesn’t feel embarrassed at all.  Instead he smiles, bright and beautiful.
“I- I have to-” 
“You have class,” (y/n) laughs bashfully, turning away in an attempt to calm her warm cheeks and dopey grin.  “You should go before you’re late- I- I should go before I’m late” She stammers over her words, which is unlike her and more like him.
“Right, yeah,” He nods in a jerky motion as he starts to turn to leave, realizing he was going to have to run now if he wanted to make it on time.  “But I’ll- I’ll see you after? Maybe? Or do you have plans already we can just wait till tomor-” 
“After lessons works” (y/n) agrees.
“Okay- okay, yeah,” He’s still beaming, giddy with excitement now.  “After lessons” He repeats.
(y/n) giggles as she begins to make her way back towards the infirmary, in the opposite direction as him.  She gives him a small wave as she takes off, and Yuuta’s stunned in place for a moment before realizing that his tardiness was going to get him into trouble.
When (y/n) bursts through the infirmary doors with a string of excuses and pink cheeks, Shoko doesn’t say a word.  Not that she has to, her face says it all.
Yuuta is not spared in the same way.  When Gojo asks where he’s been, Panda is happy to supply what- or who- had kept him occupied.  He was teased relentlessly for the following fifteen minutes, but it didn’t bother him too much.  Sure, he was a little awkward at handling it and brushing off their assumptions.  He just hoped his classmates wouldn’t meddle and tell her about it later.
[ just come here and we can settle down ]
If Yuuta ever underestimated anything in his life, it was Gojo Satoru’s joy in meddling.
It’s a few weeks after the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.  Jujutsu High is still under reconstruction, but it’s getting somewhere.  The gardens are being replanted, the courtyard isn’t just a pile of rubbish anymore, and slowly but surely, everyone is healing.
Especially thanks to (y/n), who had mastered her cursed technique.  Just in time too, as there were a lot of people that needed help.
Maki was finally recovering after pushing herself through physical therapy at a rate faster than (y/n) had ever seen in anyone before.  She was more amazed than surprised.  She would never underestimate that young woman’s abilities.
Toge was just starting to use his voice again, despite all of his friends telling him to just keep his mouth shut even if he was speaking in onigiri ingredients.  His sore throat still made his words sound choked and raspy, but he communicated with his friends nonetheless.
There were many other sorcerers that had gotten hurt that night, but just as her friends had, they were recovering, physically and mentally, from that horrible night.
Today the sun was shining.  It was still a chilly January day, but something about the clear skies drew (y/n) to linger on the steps of the main building.  She studied them beneath her boots.  Now that they were clear of snow, it looked as though a different color of stone was selected for their redesign.  Not too different, it was still a light brown, almost like sand, but different enough that the longer she stared at them, the more she could pick out the other differences between these and the old ones.  
“Ditching lessons?” 
Her eyes drag slowly away from the stone steps to see Gojo Satoru scaling them towards her.  His long legs had him next to her in a matter of seconds.  Truthfully, Shoko had said she needed a longer smoke break than usual today- which was only unusual because ever since christmas, she’d been taking longer smoke breaks, she’d only just mentioned it today.
“Not really.  Maybe” (y/n) replied indecisively.
“I’m still a teacher you know,” Gojo laughs at her honesty.  “I could get you in trouble~” 
The grin on his face tells her that there was absolutely no bite to his bark.  He just liked to pretend to be an adult sometimes.  (y/n) gives him a half hearted smile in amusement.  His grin weakens at the way hers drops as soon as she stares down at the stairs again.
He already knows what’s on her mind.  He was a better teacher than even he gave himself credit for.
“So he told you about Africa, huh?” 
Her head shoots back up, brows furrowed in a sad expression as she frowns at him.  
Yeah, he told me about Africa, she thinks, bitterly, even the thought making her mouth go sour.  She gnaws at the inside of her cheek roughly.
“I know you’re close.  I’m sorry that it’s happening,” Gojo sighs.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets.  “Kid’s got real potential.  He might even be stronger than me,” 
Just like his grin, his smirk speaks volumes.  (y/n’s) not sure if he really believes that, but she can tell he believes in Yuuta.
“Special Grade Sorcerers aren’t what they used to be, huh?” He asks, and she’s not sure if it’s rhetorical, so she just shrugs her shoulders, and directs her gaze downwards again.
Her throat burns.  Was that tears? 
“It won’t just be Africa,” Gojo says, slowly, like he’s trying to be careful.  She’s never known him to tread lightly.  He must really worry about her feelings.  She wonders why.  “Once he’s mastered his techniques, the geezers are gonna throw him at every curse they can sniff out” 
“I know” 
Her voice is small, but it holds enough certainty for Gojo to understand that she doesn’t need to be told what Yuuta’s future has in store.
“So,” Gojo takes a different tone as he kicks the toe of his shoe into a step.  “You’re not bothered that he’s a young widow, hm?” 
(y/n’s) face contorts into something strange and confused as she looks at him again.  She could almost laugh, if she wasn’t so disturbed by her teacher prying into her personal life.  She could tell him to buzz off, but it’d make no difference.  He’d probably just pester Shoko for the details and that would be even more embarrassing.
“I don’t even know what to-” 
“He cares about you a lot too,” Gojo says before she can finish.  (y/n’s) features relax as her eyes widen a little.  He looks out into the courtyard as if something interesting was happening over there.  “But Africa will be good for him.  And he’ll be back soon enough.  I’ll try ‘n pull some strings to have him visit, or something” 
Her impulse to say something snarky and get him to move on from the topic disappears.  Instead, she gives him a small nod, before tucking her cold fingers into the pockets of her coat.
“That would be nice,” She tells him, quietly, but surely.  “Thank you” 
Gojo grins from ear to ear as he turns back to his.  She has a feeling that under the white bandages, he’s winking dramatically.
He leaves without another word, leaving (y/n) a little bewildered by the sudden exit.  But then she sees another figure ascending the steps, and suddenly the cold isn’t the only thing making her cheeks pink.
Yuuta gives her the same smile he always does when he crosses her path.  Whether in passing or when he’s meeting up with her to hang out, his lips curl into the warmest smile she’s ever seen.  Even as clouds creep across the sky and snow begins to fall, she starts to feel toasty in her hat and coat.
She lies and tells him she has a few minutes to spare even though she’s been gone from the infirmary for a good twenty minutes now.  As they take a short walk around campus, her mood lightens up.  
They don’t talk about Africa.  Only good things.  A funny meme she’d seen, how Toge will be by the infirmary later because he refuses to keep his mouth shut to heal properly.  Maybe that wasn’t so much of a good thing, but Yuuta is laughing as he tells her about the pile of bloodied tissues accumulated at Toge’s desk.  Despite the twinge of guilt for laughing at their friend’s discomfort, she can’t help it.  Yuuta’s happiness is infectious.
This must be what swooning feels like, she thinks as she stares up at him while he tells her about his day.  It’s a silly story, maybe even kind of boring, but she hangs onto every word with eager anticipation at what he would share next.  He could read her the goddamn newspaper and she’d sit there with her head in her hands and give him her undivided attention.  Yeah, this is probably swooning.
“When do you have to be back?” Yuuta cuts off his rambling about training when he realizes they’ve been walking for some time now.
“Oh,” (y/n) shrugs sheepishly.  “Probably ten minutes ago” 
His eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, and before he even speaks she knows he’s about to apologize for taking up her time, so with a small laugh she shakes her head at him before he says a thing.
“Don’t worry about it,” She says, urging him to keep walking with her.  “Shoko needed some extra time today.  I don’t mind if I’m a little late” 
“You’re sure?” He double checks, because he doesn’t like being responsible for getting her behind schedule.  Nonetheless, he catches up to her as she keeps walking along the path.
Little does he know, if he asked her to ditch the rest of the day with him, she would take him by the hand and sprint off campus.
“Positive” (y/n) replies.
They continue to walk in the snow and talk about anything but Africa.  An unspoken agreement that it could wait.
[ oh darling, it’s alarming, to think of us apart ]
Eventually, they have to talk about Africa.
It comes up the morning Yuuta leaves. 
It’s early enough in the morning that it’s still dark.  Panda had helped him load his bags into Ijichi’s car, before giving him a quick goodbye so he could go back to bed.  Maki and Toge lingered a little longer, even in their pajamas.  But at some point Maki cursed about how early it was, gave her new friend a friendly- but not light- punch to the shoulder, and returned inside.
Toge and (y/n) were equally quiet, although for their different reasons.  Eventually Yuuta couldn’t fill the silence anymore, and they were out of time to stall.
To his surprise, Toge gave him a quick hug.  Just enough to give him a kind pat on the back and an eager ‘salmon!’ certainly wishing him luck on his big assignment.  Yuuta thanked him with a grin, proud to understand what he really meant.
Then he turned to (y/n), who’d barely moved an inch since sleepily walking out here.  He’d insisted to everyone last night that they could say their goodbyes then, but she’d stood her ground that she’d see him off today.  The others agreed.
Her arms were wrapped firmly around herself, and the smile on her face was sad when his eyes met hers.  Even when she tried to brighten up, to properly display her pride in him, she just couldn’t quite do it.
Toge watched as they stared at each other for a moment, neither one of them finding anything to say.  For a minute he thought it might be awkward, and he figured he should probably leave now.  
It only took Yuuta one step forward, his arms barely outstretched, before (y/n’s) finding the energy to leap towards him, crashing into him.  Her arms are thrown around his neck as she hugs him tightly.  As she tucks her chin against his shoulder she’s willing herself not to cry, because she knows it would make him feel bad, and that wouldn’t be fair.  Yuuta’s surprise has him hesitating for a second before he’s hugging her back, hoping to hold on just as securely as she’d latched onto him.
“Text a lot,” When she’s certain her voice won’t crack, (y/n) finally speaks.  “And call, too” 
Yuuta chuckles.  His eyes close as he rests his cheek against her head.  She’s never hugged him before, but he’s decided from this one that she’s the best hugger in the world.
“The time difference is-” 
“I don’t care” She mutters, and it’s punctuated with her arms squeezing around him a little tighter.
He returns the affection.
“Okay” He murmurs.
When they have to part, she lets out a shaky breath, and plasters on the widest smile she can.  She hopes he can see the tears in her eyes.  He does.
He gives her and Toge a wave before finally opening the door to the backseat.  He doesn’t say goodbye.  Instead he settles for, “See you later” 
(y/n) manages a little wave back.  It’s not until the car pulls away and is out of sight before a tear falls.  She’s quick to wipe it away.
Her and the cursed speech user walk back towards the main building together.  He gives her a sympathetic look.  She gives him a weak smile.
“Yeah, I know,” She sighs, drying her eyes once more and taking a deep breath in the hopes of not crying again.
He smiles back, but unlike hers, it’s bright, and cheeky.  He draws a heart in the air with his fingers.  She wants to roll her eyes, but she lets out a watery laugh at the action, and she knows her face is heating up with evidence of the truth.
“Something like that” She mumbles.  They don’t say anything else before parting ways to go back to their rooms.
By the time she collapses back in bed, she’s too awake to think about sleeping a little longer before her lesson with Shoko.  Pulling out her phone for a source of entertainment, she finds she already has a notification at this ungodly hour.
[yuuta] : try not to miss me too much :) i’ll be back before you know it
Tucking the blankets up to her chin, (y/n) settles into bed with a small smile.  Yuuta wasn’t often cheeky.  And when he was, it was always followed by a nervous laugh and bright pink cheeks.  Behind the shield of his phone he clearly has a leap in confidence.  She even laughs a little as she types back her response.
[ you and me, always, forever ]
Yuuta had some mixed feelings about going to Africa.
On the one hand, he was ecstatic.  He had finally climbed the ranks in this new life that he thinks could make everything make sense.  He felt a new sense of responsibility along with his new sense of self, and he knows that this debut of his in Africa was the next big step forwards.  He’d prove himself, he’d push himself, and he’d come home stronger than before.  He’d make his friends, and his teachers, proud of taking a chance on him.
On the other hand, his new purpose, this new sense of self that he was still discovering, felt so much more worth exploring when she was there too.  Yuuta wasn’t as naive as some may make him out to be.  He knew what love felt like.  He recognized that the ticklish feeling in his chest when she laughed, he was familiar with the buzz in his fingertips when she walked too close and her hand brushed over his.  He knows when he’s lying awake at night and she’s the one who crosses his mind that it’s no coincidence.
Yuuta knows that his heart holds much more than platonic regards for one (y/n) (y/l/n).  He knows that he adores her.  He knows that his heart longs for her in a way that couldn’t possibly be platonic.  The fact that they’ll have to be apart for some time makes him sad.  It makes him lonely.
Even now, after seeing her twenty minutes ago when they said their goodbyes, he already missed her.  He couldn’t help but text her right away, the desperation for keeping in contact pumping through him like ice, making him feel wide awake even at five in the morning.  The thought of losing touch over the next few months of him being away makes him sweat.  
He’d have to make sure to keep in touch, he makes a mental plan to always text her first thing in the morning, and last thing before he goes to sleep.  That way, even if he got busy throughout his day, he’d always have the time for her.  He wanted her to know that he’d always make the time for her.
Yuuta’s heart is racing, the adrenaline a toxic mix of excitement and anxiety.  Had he eaten a proper meal this morning he might’ve thrown up.
Just as he’s contemplating rolling down the window for some fresh air, his phone pings.
[(y/n/n)]: i take it you miss me already, yuuta?
It’s a silly little emoji, but he swears she’s sent him her heart in digital form and it leaps right from the screen and into his open palms.  He's smiling at the screen and responding with a reaction image he’d snagged from Toge just a few days ago.
[ you and me, always, forever ]
Gojo follows through on his promise.  Yuuta comes back to Jujutsu Tech for a small break after two months in Africa.
He gets to campus earlier than expected, surprising his classmates in the middle of a lesson.  Luckily today the lesson was rating the different flavors of kikufuku from a new shop Gojo had found, so he hadn’t interrupted anything too pressing.
It’s shortly after his early arrival that he asks the question that his friends think they should have placed money on him asking.  Maki mutters something to Toge about how she would’ve won had they done so.
“Where’s (y/n)?” 
While he stares at them with a dumbfounded expression, his friends laugh.  Loud cackling that’s intended to make him feel embarrassed, but he’s more confused than anything.  Even Gojo joins in once he’s not distracted by his leftover treats and Panda merrily tells their teacher that Yuuta’s already sick of them.
“That’s not it!” The poor boy puts his hands up in mock defense as he jumps to explain himself.  “I just want to tell her I’m back-” 
“She’s in the infirmary, genius” Maki crosses her arms, but her displeased attitude crumbles when a smirk tugs on her lips.  Yuuta forces a smile, but it’s awkward.  His nervous energy begins to shine through his excitement about returning home.
It’s not long after this that he’s delivering a string of excuses before darting out of the classroom and running to the infirmary.  Was it a little embarrassing to race towards her like this? Yeah, but there was barely anyone on campus right now anyways, so no one had to know just how eager he was to see her again.
Even though every bone in his body was practically vibrating by the time he made it there.
He peers through the small windows on the heavy doors outside the hospital classroom, making sure it was safe to enter before he barged in.  As soon as he looks inside he sees Shoko leaning against the cabinets.  (y/n) was standing in front of her, her back to the door, but she was easily recognizable to him.  Before he can knock to make himself known, Shoko catches him in her line of sight, and gives him an uncharacteristically wide grin.
In fact it’s so unusual on her face, that (y/n) perks up in the midst of whatever conversation they were having, curious to see what could've caught her interest so much.
Okkotsu Yuuta was not at all what she might have expected.
He gets to watch her light up in real time.  He hears her excitedly squealing from the other side of the door.  And somehow, even though it’s been a whole two months since he’s seen her, the ten seconds it takes for her to fly through the doors and into his arms seems to take too long.
She crashes into him so hard he stumbles to balance his footing.  She’s laughing and bouncing and rambling on, ‘I’m so happy you’re here! You’re early! I would’ve helped you with your things! Have you settled in? Have you eaten? Should we go get some food? I’ll order food! And we can stay in!’ She’s talking so fast that he catches about half of what she’s saying.  He only chuckles, not having the heart to tell her he can barely understand her.
Her arms squeeze tight around his neck before she finally lets him go.  With twinkling eyes and a smile so wide it must be sore on her cheeks, Yuuta’s slowly melting heart completely dissolves.
“Your hair’s different” She tilts her head at him while she admires the way his slightly longer hair is styled around his face.  She lets her curiosity get the best of her, reaching a hand out to gently push a strand away from his forehead.  
Yuuta hadn’t really given any thought to his hair.  He can’t remember when exactly it had gotten too long, when he’d parted it differently so it wasn’t a hindrance, but now he’s second guessing the change in style as if that change had been a conscious choice.
“Bad different?” 
There’s a small giggle in the back of her throat that she can’t help when his brows furrow at her.  He’s so cute, she thinks her heart could melt right here.
She shakes her head at him in a small motion.
“No,” She assured him.  “Good different” 
A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, a proud little smile, like he’d gotten her to admit her deepest, most well kept secret.
“Good different?” He repeats, his voice dripping with mirth.
She rolls her eyes and crinkles her nose, but there’s no hiding the warmth in her cheeks and the way her dimples show when she smiles, even when she ducks her head from him.
“Shut up, Yuuta,” She pushes his shoulder but just as quickly grabs him by the elbow.  “Now come on! The day’s almost over already and we have so much we need to catch up on!” 
She forgets her bag in the infirmary as they wander campus together for a while, making pitstops to get him unpacked for his short visit and to snack up before they make their simple plans for the evening.  Conversation never ceases, even when she’s trying to place a takeout order over the phone, she finds herself remembering various little stories and jokes that she’d tucked away in her memory to share with him.  
There’s been a change in him.  It wasn’t just the training that treated him well with lean muscle, it wasn’t just the haircut, or the way he’d learned to wield his katana like it was an extension of him.  It was confidence.  It was happiness.  He didn’t stutter over his words nearly as often.  When he spoke he was sure of the things he said.  He would still blush when she got close enough or whispered something exceptionally sweet to him, but he was better at holding eye contact, and grew quite comfortable with reciprocating the small affections.  Maybe that was just it, he was finally comfortable here, and with himself.
Time flies faster than it had when they were apart.  The afternoon turns to evening which turns to the middle of the night.  They’re still sitting on the common room couch, side by side, lost in their own little world as a forgotten movie plays in the background.  Some of it had been watched when they’d eaten, but the takeout boxes on the coffee table are empty now.  Yuuta’s yawning and (y/n’s) eyelids are heavy as she tries to keep her attention on him while he tells a story, his voice getting lower and his words coming out slower the later it gets.  It’s not until he’s slumping into the uncomfortable cushions of the old couch that they even think to check the time.
When they do decide they’ve been up for too long, they make their way sneakily back to their rooms, hoping to remain as silent as possible.  But anyone who was up at this hour would hear their hushed laughter and aggressive shushing.  Yuuta bids her goodnight with the promise of taking everyone out for breakfast in the morning, but before he drops her off at her door, they share one more embrace.
She means to keep it quick, she really does.  She knows he’s tired, and maybe a little annoyed with all of the affection today, but she was so happy to have him back that she couldn’t help but want to keep him close forever.
Yuuta doesn’t seem annoyed in the slightest.  He hugs her back tightly, and makes no move to let her go anytime soon, so she doesn’t, either.  They stand that way at her door for an unknown amount of time, each waiting for the other to pull away first.
It takes some time, but eventually she shuffles out of his hold and gives him a bashful little smile followed by, “I’m really glad you’re home, Yuuta” 
The tension lays itself on thick, making sure to smother Yuuta until the back of his neck feels hot and his heart beats so hard in his chest he’s certain she’s going to notice and tease him for it.
“Me too” He manages to murmur back.  
He’s lucky he’s able to return her sweet ‘goodnight!’ too, because his throat is tightening on itself and he thinks he could start choking just standing there.
When he drags himself back to his own room and his heart calms down- just a little bit- Yuuta decides he’s going to have to do something about that tension before it kills him.
[ you and me, always, forever ]
“This is getting ridiculous,” Maki declares before kicking open the classroom door.  Her two friends follow in behind her.  “It’s actually going to make me sick.  I think we should just say something already” 
“Don’t kick doors down Maki” Panda sighs, but his warning goes ignored.
“Salmon,” Toge shrugs his shoulders, raising his hands to be palms up, as though indicating what else is there to do?
“Well for starters, we get the idiots to talk to each other,” Maki states, picking up the notebook off her usual desk.  
It was the whole reason they came back to class so late in the day, seeing as this particular notebook had the notes from their lesson earlier.  It was important she made the trip back for it before they started their study session.  She did take the better notes of the three of them.
“Apparently all their time together isn’t getting anywhere,” She huffs.  “I swear, all he does is talk about her.  He’s bound to have something good enough to confess already, right?” 
Toge giggles into his collar.
“Ease up a bit, they’ll come around to it when they’re ready, won’t they?” Panda tries to be the voice of reason.  
There’s a pause for silence.  And then Toge and Maki are cackling so hard they have to hold their stomachs to relieve the twisting knots of their muscles.
“It’s been months!” Maki hollers through her mania.
“Salmon!” 
“I mean, how much more of this can you guys take?” She doesn’t give them the time to answer her question.  “I can’t stand listening to him ramble on and on about her.  Did you know the one phone call I got, he talked about her the whole time?” 
“You’ve mentioned” Panda mumbles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.
“Tuna tuna” Toge agreed, before making a crude motion with his hands that had Maki bursting into laughter again.
Maki rolls her eyes, before grabbing her missing notebook from her desk and stuffing it into her backpack.  She’d been holding back on intervening on these two for months now.  At first, she didn’t care enough.  If (y/n) and Yuuta wanted to dance around each other like children with crushes then that was their business.  But now the romantic tension was so thick it choked her up to be in a room with them.  The lingering stares, the flirty giggles, the blushing- gah- she couldn’t stand it.
Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t hate love, and she didn’t hate either of them for being in love.  She hated wimps.  And these two were being the wimpiest people she’s ever seen for not fessing up already.
Also, wasn’t she just being a good friend for getting two dumbasses in love to admit they’re in love with each other? She did want them to be together after all, they were good for each other.
“I think it’s sweet that he loves her so much!” Panda argues.  “I don’t mind listening to it.  (y/n’s) really nice.  They deserve each other” 
“Oh, yeah, they deserve each other,” Maki agrees but her tone drips with something hostile.  “No shit, do you not see how much she stares at him?” 
Toge’s snickering gets louder.  It wasn’t often there was gossip among the small group, there wasn’t exactly time for it.  But this was rather entertaining, and watching two of his friends trip over themselves with how hard they’d been crushing on each other had been the cherry on top.
“Well, yeah,” Panda finally lets out a small laugh.  “Actually, the other day I was talking to her, and I don’t think she heard a word I said,” He chuckles as he recalls the way her eyes glazed over and a dopey little smile took over her face.  “I don’t know how he hasn’t noticed it” 
“Salmon” Toge scoffs.
“Yeah, he’s more oblivious than she is” Maki agrees.
“But I don’t think we should do anything about it” Panda tries to reason.
“They’re never going to make a move if we don’t say something,” Maki huffs.  “Can’t they just get it over with already? How hard is a confession anyways?” 
“Like you’ve ever confessed to anyone” Panda throws back at her with a proud grin.
Toge makes a sound of delight to see the gossiping turning into something much more interesting.
Maki glares at the both of them before snarling.
“That’s it!” She declares, throwing her bag over her shoulder.  “I’m going to go tell them right now.  Whoever I find first is going to hear great news today!” 
“Maki don’t!” Panda hollers, marching after her out the door.  “It’s not our place! That’s an invasion of privacy!” 
Toge’s enthusiastic babbling of rice ball ingredients follows them out into the hall, eager to see where this was going to go.
The classroom door slides shut behind him, and the sounds of their heavy, quick footsteps drones on until they’re too far to be heard.  It’s not until the room is completely silent that a small exhale of relief is heard, under the large desk that Gojo pretended to use during his lessons.
“I think we’re in the clear” Yuuta whispers, once he’s absolutely certain that no one is left in the room.
He drops his hand from over (y/n’s) mouth, where she’s been gnawing on her bottom lip for the last six minutes in fear that their classmates were going to notice them hiding under there.
“Really?” She asks in a teasing tone of voice.  “Because it sounds like they’re looking for us” 
Yuuta huffs in defeat, a look on his face that completely contrasts her own.  (y/n’s) brightened, grinning from ear to ear and giggling under her breath.  
They’re squished into the small space so when she giggles he can feel her breath fanning over his neck, and even though he wants to grab her by the shoulders and make her come back to reality- which is that their friends are on a rampage right now to get them to confess to each other, something they’d just done minutes before they’d stormed into this very classroom- but he can’t.  He takes one look at her, with her starry eyes and cute smile and he accepts whatever fate has in store for him.
(y/n) had surprised him here, happily announcing she wrapped up her lessons early so that they could spend the afternoon together.  He only had a few days left until he’d be shipped off to Africa again, so she’d worked diligently today to be sure she could give him every spare minute of her free time.  Somehow they’d wound up in the classroom alone.  
One minute Yuuta’s going on about how excited he was to hang out with her and the next thing he knows he’s accidentally letting it slip that he’d like to have her all to himself all the time.  He realized instantly that he’d said something a little too romantically charged because suddenly she’s staring up at him with those damn wide eyes and a smile full of secrets.
He must’ve said something right though, because one thing led to another and she had an iron grip on his collar while her strawberry gloss smeared all over his mouth.
(y/n) smirks now as she reaches her thumb up to his lips now, wiping away a subtle speck of pink glitter that had been left behind there.  Her face heats up as she recalls how carried away she’d gotten just minutes ago.  Until their friends showed up and nearly caught them in the act.  
Had Maki kicked down that door just a minute earlier, they surely would’ve been caught in their scrambling.  More specifically, they would’ve caught the awkward way Yuuta had lifted (y/n) off the desk he’d just set her on, only to hustle them both under the desk, the only half-decent hiding place in this whole room.
“You’re kidding,” She’d mumbled when he drew his knees to his chest and beckoned her to duck under with him.  She crowds into the space, but not without scolding him.  “They’re definitely going to-” He covers her mouth with his large palm, effectively quieting her, just as the door slams open.
Now she knows they should be scrambling out of here, before they were eventually caught- again- but she stays put in the tiny space where their legs are sore and cramped together.
“So you talk about me to all your friends, hm?” She muses, leaning in impossibly closer to give him her best shit eating grin.  It easily has Yuuta blushing from his neck to his ears as he turns his head to relieve himself from the heavy eye contact.
“Yeah yeah,” He mumbles, tugging at his collar in an attempt to soothe the heat.  Just as the embarrassment settles in, he whips his head back to meet her stare with a wild look in his eye that actually catches her off guard.  “But you’ve been staring at me!” He says.
She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the proof had been hollering in this very room just moments ago during Maki’s fit.  Panda had happily supplied the damn evidence.
So she shuts her mouth, and now Yuuta’s beaming at her with victorious pride.  
“So it’s true!?” He asks excitedly.
“You already know that, jerk,” She rolls her eyes at him, but it’s filled with affection.  “You’re the one who’s in love with me!” She says with a jab to his chest.
Yuuta catches her hand with his before she can pull it away, making her pleased little grin fall to something softer.  He’s able to watch in real time as her eyelashes flutter when her glance darts down to his lips, and when she looks up at him again, it’s with color in her cheeks and a sweetness in her gaze that has him turning to putty.
What was meant to be a half-hearted jest based on something Panda had said that she wasn’t exactly meant to hear now hangs in the air between them so heavy it feels like gravity grows in strength.  Her heart is pounding in her chest.  Her hand feels hot in his.  And now she sits with baited breath and wide eyes as she waits for him to say something.
Yuuta’s smiling, his free hand coming up to the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away before pulling her closer.  She tilts her head towards him, but he stops just before their lips could graze over one another.
“You love me too?” He whispers.
He phrases it like a question, but he already knows it to be true.  He just wants to hear her say it.
Her lips quirk into a sweet smile as her eyes flicker between his, lashes heavy, pupils blown wide in her irises.  She’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and the thought of getting to love her and be loved by her has his heart racing so fast he’s almost forgetting that he’s asked her a question because all he wants is to kiss her.
“Of course I do,” She murmurs, her soft lips ghosting over his, eager to feel them against hers again.  “Think I’ve always loved you, Yuuta,” She adds in a quieter voice.  A carefully protected deep adoration in her heart, now bestowed upon his.  “Think it’s always been you and me” She hums softly, taken away by the warmth in her chest and the butterflies in her tummy.
She could sit here and whisper sweet things to him for hours, maybe even forever.
His thumb strokes under her jaw in a gentle motion, caressing the junction at her jawline and neck.  He looks radiant, smiling down at her like nothing’s ever made him so happy.  This spurs her into wanting to say more sweet things, but before she gets the chance, he’s slanting his lips over hers.
She melts into him in every sense of the word.  Her free hand reaches for his shoulder, before sliding around his neck so she could lean into him further.  The small space they’re still hiding in only shrinks as she tries to get closer to him.  Both pairs of their legs are too long to keep bent under the desk, so she sticks one leg out, accidentally kicking the chair in front of them but she pays it no mind.  She just focuses on getting closer to him, hooking her other leg underneath herself to give her better leverage and a tiny bit more space to scoot closer.
Her hands are on his collar again as soon as he grabs her by the hips.  He gives them a gentle squeeze and she giggles softly into his mouth, breaking their kiss for only a moment.  They share wide smiles and lovesick eyes before leaning into each other again and sealing their lips in a heated and much more passionate kiss.
They don’t think at all about the noise of the chair clattering across the floor or the distinct sound of their giggling as they get swept away with one another.  In fact they completely forget that they’re only in this position because they’d been trying to keep hidden.  Both too consumed with memorizing the feeling of each other’s lips.  
It’s a sweet moment, really, the first time young lovers get to explore the way the other kisses.  Gently, with timid, inexperienced brushes.  Or hungrily, with eager, heated desire.  Taking their time was a luxury they’d thought they could finally afford.
But this time when the door opens it’s with stealth.  It slides in silence, and the steps that creep in are also with slow precision, so as not to make even a creak in the floorboards.
All that can be seen by the three intruders are the three legs jutting out from under the desk.  A familiar pair of Converse and one familiar Mary Jane with a heart shaped buckle kicking gently about on the floorboards, rocking with delight.
The hushed sound of lips smacking only ceased when there was a giggle, one of them or both of them, murmuring between kisses and giggles like a pair of school children.
There’s a few things that are audible, murmurs of ‘I love you so much’ or ‘you’re so pretty’ repeated between them like mantras.  This continues for a minute until one of the three takes a heavier step than he means to with his paw, and the room goes completely silent- save for the lewd ‘smack!’ of a pair of lips seizing upon hearing the tell-tale sign of a lurker.
Maki and Toge glare back at Panda, who sheepishly grins and shrugs his shoulders.
(y/n) and Yuuta stare at each other in horrified shock.  They don’t get the chance to come up with a plan of attack before someone is on top of the desk with a squeak of sneakers.  And then Toge is bending over the surface, staring wide eyes at the two in a rather compromising position- (y/n’s) leg is thrown over Yuuta’s lap and being kept there by a firm hand, her hands are still balled up in his unbuttoned collar, their lips are thoroughly swollen she’s effectively transferred most of her lip gloss onto his mouth, and chin and neck- there’s nothing innocent about them.  Toge stares between them both before he lets out a whistle, giggling as he hops off the desk again.
Yuuta winces as he quickly releases his grip on (y/n’s) leg so they can both scramble out from under the desk and up to their feet.  It’s ungraceful, uncoordinated as they awkwardly untangle to clamber upwards.  Yuuta hits his head on the hard oak loud enough that they both wince, (y/n) quickly inspecting the instant bump that forms at the occiput of his skull.
“No way!” Maki breaks the tension first, her jaw hanging open as she grins in amusement at having caught the two of them here.  “You were hiding out in here the whole time!?”
“Tuna!” Toge shoves his finger in their direction in accusation.
“Kissing!” Panda gasps, his paws over his face.
“Why didn’t you just say something,” Maki huffed.  “Walked around for ten minutes for no reason.  Waste of my time” She grumbles as she crosses her arms.
“Uh, sorry” (y/n) said sheepishly.
“Yeah, sorry,” Yuuta pipes up.  “It was just… uh… awkward” 
“You’re awkward!” Maki barks back with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “Jeez, glad you got it over with finally” She bids them her blessing with rough words before spinning around and leaving the room without saying anything else.
Panda gives them a bright smile and nod of his head, his own friendly way of telling them he was happy for them.
“Hope you’re happy” He tells them out of the kindness of his soul before excusing himself as well.
“Salmon!” Toge agrees with a grin and friendly wave before also leaving.
All the lurking around they’d done, only to give them space as soon as they caught what they needed to.
The remaining pair turned to each other, gaping mouths turning into shy smiles as they slowly burst into laughter together.  What was supposed to be a slow introduction of new feelings to explore had now been on display to pretty much everyone they knew.  Shyness began to wash away as there was no more use for it.  Yuuta reaches for his hand and (y/n’s) fingers intertwined with his as though they’d familiarized themselves there before.  She smiles as he uses her hand to pull her closer to him, until the toes of her shoes barely bump into his.
They don’t say anything, they don’t need to.  (y/n) knows what he means when he cradles her face in his palm and smiles down at her.  He knows what she means when her nose crinkles and her free hand reaches to hold onto his collar once more.  Their ‘i love yous’ had almost always been silent, and they would forever understand it in its unspoken form.
__
this is for @staygoldsquatchling02​ for being excited about my rotting brain full of yuuta fluff a/n: y’all i got soo carried away with this-
xoxo ~ jordie
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al1fers-haven · 8 days
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Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
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Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
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vidavalor · 7 months
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Hey, so...
Have you all noticed *how* Crowley and Aziraphale are drinking in 1941? And by this I mean... that they barely are? <wink>
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Crowley has been drinking for millennia by this point. He gets drunk as Bildad the Shuite in 2500 B.C.. Aziraphale has been drinking since sometime prior to the scene in Rome, which is also when we see them drink together for the first time. *This* scene is 1941 so countless years and meet ups between Crowley and Aziraphale have taken place since and considering how these two drink together in other situations-- like how completely wasted they were in the "eleven years ago" scene in S1-- this one here in 1941 is *interesting.* Why?
Because friends, that is *one bottle of wine* on the table beside Aziraphale and I can still see wine in it above the label, which means what's currently in their glasses is less than the first half of the bottle... which means the glasses they are sharing now that Aziraphale just poured are their first drinks of the evening... and neither of them are really drinking much of it. That signals an intent not to drink very much at all-- the open bottle probably being plenty for the two of them. They're going slowly, without an intention to get drunk, but not really just to savor together a particularly interesting vintage. They don't seem to be noticing or tasting the wine at all. Aziraphale poured them both a good amount but not overkill but both of them so far in this scene just take cautious, *small* sips of the wine... and they don't need to conserve it, ok?
It's not the war. It's canon that Aziraphale has a case of Chateauneuf-de-Pape that he picked up in the 1920s sitting in the back of this shop at this very minute that he doesn't bust open until "Eleven Years Ago" in the future of S1 and Crowley is a bootlegger in this moment in history lol and also they're both literally magic. They could miracle wine from halfway around the world if they wanted to. There's wine to drink if they want to get drunk...
...and they both have silently agreed that they don't want to.
It is the *only* time that they drink together in a scene that we've seen where they have a mutual agreement to not drink that much. Even when Aziraphale *didn't drink*, he still got *food* drunk while Crowley was drinking in the Job minisode.
But when they're having a drink together in 1941, both of them are very clearly, by a kind of unspoken agreement from the vibes in the room, *not really drinking.* Just a little. A few sips that will lead to a glass or two a piece total, at most-- that bottle split between them would be a lot from the air of and the pace of them in this scene.
And I mean... forgetting for a moment that Aziraphale will get drunk without issue in other scenes, we all know Crowley, right? This Crowley...
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In S1, part of *God's narration* lol includes that Crowley and Aziraphale had been drinking for six straight hours in the bookshop together in "Eleven Years Ago." Rome is one thing because they had just had just met up so we don't know how sloshed they got over oysters at Petronius' new restaurant (and would seem likely that they did) but in every other scene when they drink together, basically, they drink quite a bit and both of them usually wind up drunk, especially Crowley.
So why is 1941 different?
Because they're drinking like people who both want to mess around, that's why.
Yeah, people mess around while drunk and I'm sure the same can be said for any of the few Effort-curious angels and demons outside of these two but Crowley and Aziraphale are not a casual hookup to one another-- they're in love, they're best friends, and they haven't been together before after literal millennia of pining and yearning for it. It's not something that's happening while they're drunk. They want to be sober and for it to be special and the evening here in 1941 has really got everything lining up for a perfectly romantic night, if they want it to be. All the rescuing one another and little glances and now Aziraphale's asked Crowley back to the bookshop for a late night drink and they're both drinking like they want it to be tonight.
They're both silently telling one another they want something to happen by the fact that they're drinking with no intention to get drunk. They want to be present. They want to remember. They want each other's explicit consent so they're barely drinking the wine so that it's evident that if things get intimate, it's not because either or both of them are drunk, and no one has to stop over concern over that.
Aziraphale is looking at Crowley looking all dashing, unusually quiet for him, maybe a bit nervous and still hiding a little behind his glasses-- Hell's biggest lush taking the world's smallest, barely-there sip of that wine lol-- and is like how many more tiny sips do we need to take before I can crawl onto his lap...?
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Aziraphale's like omg, the sex is going to be amazing... thank God I don't yet know in this moment that something-- like some Zombie Nazis, probably-- will stop us and we'll still be on trying to kiss one another 80 years from now...
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mochinomnoms · 3 months
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Hello I saw your event and got interested! I was wondering if you could do #24 with Idia (romantic, fluff, and suggestive if possible) with fem!reader?
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idia shroud x f!reader [tags] – romantic, fluff, suggestive [wc} – 3, 241 prompt 24: “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” “Why?” “If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” notes - the only way to write idia is kind pathetic like a wet cat. i love pathetic men a floral inconvenience
According to legend, a Japanese emperor gave blue hydrangeas to the girl he loved, to apologize for neglecting her and to show how much he really cared for her. Their petal shape resembles a beating heart. 
Idia thinks that he was cursed in a past life for doing something awful. Maybe he kidnapped someone’s kid and tried to kill them. Maybe he tried to overthrow the gods and take over himself, but failed miserably. Or maybe, worst of all: broke someone’s limited-edition, vintage Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo figurine. 
He sure as the underworld that he did something, why else would he be puking up hanahaki flowers like some cringey Canon x Reader fanfic? 
“Big Bro! You really should go to the school infirmary, the petals and stems can cause irritation and damage to the trachea and nasopharynx if not treated properly!”
Ortho was currently hovering over him, fretting like a mother hen over her chick. How ironic, Idia thought as he picked at the petals still in his teeth, it was for the little brother to be caring for the elder. 
“Why do that when I can just have the school delivery bots bring me medicine. Then I won’t have to interact with anyone, I’d literally DIE if anyone saw me like this…”
Especially if the Prefect saw him. The image of her sweet face, and beaming smile…like a scene from a shoujo manga, flooded his mind. He could practically hear her voice, full of concern, asking, “Are you okay, Idia?”
Idia fell into a sneezing fit, petals flying from his mouth and nose as his sneezes continued, one after the other, until he was also thrown into a hoarse, wet-sounding cough. 
“Big Bro! That’s it, you’re going to the nurse!” Ortho, despite being quite small, grabbed Idia by the back of his striped pajama shirt, much like one grabs a wet cat by the scruff of its neck. 
“UUuuuuuuuuuughghuguguguhidonwannaaaaaaaaAAAAAHHHh!” Idia cried out in a whiney, high-pitched tone. 
His brother, perhaps taking pity on his brother, took the shortcut to the infirmary, cutting directly pass the buildings and fields as Idia’s arms and legs loosely flew like cooked spaghetti noodles. Flying through the window that Nurse Goethel often kept open for fresh air, Ortho plopped Idia into a spare bed, who collapsed like a ragdoll into the thin mattress. 
“I’ll go check you in with the Nurse, I’ll be right back, please make yourself comfortable Idia!”
Idia gave a muffled grumble as a response, shoving his face further into the hard surface of the bed with a sense of dread. He could hear Ortho speak with Goethel at her desk. 
Well, he thought, at least she won’t see me looking all gross and lovesick like some normie—
“Idia, oh my god, are you sick?” 
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—”
A shrill, ear-splitting shriek left his mouth as the flames of his hair blew up into a blazing hot pink. Idia bolted him, a sharp pain hitting the top of his head as he heard you yelp. As he rubbed the pained spot, Idia noticed that you too were rubbing your chin. Oh Sevens, he hit your chin with his big, stupid head. 
“Ooowwwww, damn Idia, you hit hard…” you hissed, though you gave him a sweet smile in reassurance. 
“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have scared you…though why are you covered in flowers?”
Idia froze, debating on whether or not he should open his mouth and potentially say something damning, or just stay quiet and hope you’d just get weirded out and leave. 
“Because he’s an idiot who didn’t come to immediately see me at the first petal cough!” 
The nurse came up to Idia with a disapproving glare, handing you a clipboard and pen before slipping on a clean pair of gloves. 
“Prefect, please check the boxes for every symptom I find. I believe I know what it is, but we need to check all our bases.” 
Idia peeked at you from the corner of his eye as you smiled at him, waving your fingers as the nurse whispered a spell to turn her magic pen into a makeshift flashlight. 
“Now, open up and say ‘ah’ so I can see what those flowers are doing to you.” 
Following her instructions, Idia tried his best to be a cooperative and willing patient, if just to get out of here faster. Unfortunately, your presence only seemed to make it harder to do so, as hydrangea flowers bloomed from the pores of his skin, focusing particularly around his hands and neck. 
The nurse, he’s sure, could also see the magic sparkles forming as a new bouquet formed through his throat and shot up his mouth. She tsked, leaning back to allow Idia to hack out the now decent sized hydrangea bouquet. They were a vibrant blue, much like his hair. 
“Ah, go, go on and let it out.” The nurse waved a hand at Ortho. “Dear, please fetch your brother a cup of the tea I have brewing at my desk. Prefect? Please note that the patient has no evidence of root growth in his throat.”
“Root growth!? Is my brother going to be okay?” Ortho worriedly rushed over, the tea spilling over the rim of the foam cup. “Is it a curse or disease? Is my brother growing a plant in his lungs!?”
“Ortho, you scanned me earlier this week, remember?” Idia hoarsely replied, taking the tea to gingerly sip at it. “Nothing in ‘em, or my stomach ‘cept ramen noods.”
“A WEEK?!” The three of you flinched at the shrill gasp of Goethel, who was glaring daggers at Idia. “Mr. Shroud, you’ve been sick with an unknown flora disease and you didn’t even bother to let the staff know? What if you were contagious!!”
Idia shrank into himself as he whispered, “It’s not like I leave my room…” 
“Bateria or the pollen could’ve gotten into the air vents and infected the rest of your dorm, ugh.” The nurse sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before addressing you. “Miss Y/N, if you mark down the lack of root growth, fever, and magical origin of the flowers, what do you get?”
He watched as you flipped through the clipboard, smile slightly faltering as you read one of the papers. You cleared your face briefly, before smiling politely back at the nurse and Idia.
“Based on everything, it seems that Idia most likely has the flower sickness, also known as the love sickness, petal fever, or, most commonly, hanahaki.”
Idia cringed at the cold, monotone sound of your voice. Now he’d done it. You knew, somehow you knew that he had the biggest, fattest, most twitterpated-full crush on you. No, crush was understated. He had dreams of you, the cringiest, domestic fantasy-based shit where he’d imagine you, waking up in bed with him back at the Island of Woe. You had given him a sleepy smile as you curled into side, naked. With a smile and a kiss to his lips, dream you turned over to hover over him, trailing small kisses and love bites down his body, further and further as you whispered to him, over and over, “I love you, Idia—”
A queasy, dizzying feeling fell over Idia as a particularly painful croup caused him to double over and vomit last night's dinner alongside blue, heart-shaped petals. 
“Idia!”
“Big Brother!”
“Shroud—Prefect, hold his hair back! Ortho, grab the trashcan, I’ll go get some cleaning supplies and new sheets.”
Nurse Goethel barked orders to the other two, who quickly jumped into action. Idia could feel a shiver as he felt your hands softly grasp his flaming hair, fingers grazing his cheek as you tucked his bangs behind his ears. He could barely make out your coos, no doubt comforting him. You must be disgusted seeing him like this, having to care for a sopping wet cat of a man. Ortho was holding the trash can, right on time for Idia to hurl some more flowers and stomach acid. 
“Oh, Idia…you poor thing.” You whispered into his ear, unintentionally causing his body to warm up and a chill go down his spine to settle in his abdomen. He was very aware that if he turned his head to look at you, he’d get a faceful of your chest like some harem isekai protag, the thought making him warm further and his tips pink again. 
“I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad, Idia…” Ortho murmured, guilt in his voice. “I should’ve brought you sooner…”
“N-no…” Idia gravelly replied, wiping his mouth clean. “It’s not your fault Ortho, don’t beat yourself over it.”
Ortho still looked guilty, but nodded in affirmation, glancing at briefly at the Prefect. His gaze flitted between the two, and Idia could briefly see Ortho’s eyes go blank, as they did when searching through his knowledge database.
“Miss Prefect!” Ortho chirped, voice now perky much to Idia’s concern. “May I ask for a spare infirmary shirt for my brother? He must be very uncomfortable in his soiled one!”
Idia was now firmly and acutely aware of your hands still on him, thumb rubbing soothingly into his temple. 
“Oh, of course Ortho.” You moved away, hands hovering for just a moment, as you replied, “They’re in the storage, I’ll be right back!”
Idia watched as you walked away into the infirmary storage. Ortho did as well, waiting until you were out of earshot to excitedly whisper, “Idia! I know it’ll be an easy fix!”
“Huh?�� Idia rose an eyebrow at his brother, confusion setting in.
“It’s a love sickness, and you love the Prefect—Idia stop looking at me like that—so if you confess to them, the flowers will go away!”
Idia was still giving Ortho a horrified look, as he continued. 
“Based on the timing of your reactions in correlation with close proximity within the Prefect, along with your increased heart rate at their touch, speech, and glances, and the fact that the Prefect stated on December 15th at 11:18:53 pm that she likes hydrangeas, she is the cause of the sickness. Right?”
“Ortho!’ Idia hissed, grabbing at his brother to shut him up despite Ortho not technically having a mouth. 
“Quiet down, this isn’t some otome game where I can cheat and look online for the right responses. Did you see how she reacted earlier when she found out it was hanahaki, how disappointed she looked? There’s no way Y/N—I mean the Prefect, didn’t connect the dots. 
“But, Big Brother!” Ortho whined, “Based on her heart rate and increased body temperature—”
“No is no, Ortho! It’s not going to be such an easy fix, I’ll just get rejected!”
“Technically speaking—” Idia and Ortho both jumped at the nurse’s voice, who was coming back from storage with clean linens. The Prefect followed with a new shirt.
“—you don’t need your beloved to accept your feelings, just confess them. Though it’s quite rare that it’s not reciprocated.”
The nurse motioned for Idia to get up as the Prefect handed him the shirt. She began taking the sheets off as the nurse addressed the two brothers. 
“Mr. Shroud, if you are insisting on keeping this sickness intact for fear of rejection, then I will have to ask Professor Crewel for some more potent ingredients for your prescription. Little Shroud?”
“Oh, yes Nurse Goethel?” 
“I could use your assistance, please come with me, Miss Y/N will tend to your brother,” She had a smug tone and smirk as she said this, motioning for Ortho to follow. “Mr. Shroud, please have no worry, she makes an excellent student nurse!” 
Idia let out a defeated, low, whiney groan as he moped over behind one of the privacy screens. You remained quiet as you collected the dirty sheets. He could hear Goethel’s footsteps and Ortho’s fans fade away as they left further and further down the hall. Idia yanked his shirt off, slipping the clean one over his head, noting it was a tad bit too small. He grumbled in annoyance as he pulled the shirt down to cover his stomach. 
“Idia?”
“Eeep!” Idia yelped, your voice coming from right behind the screen. “Y-yes?”
“Are you done changing? I can take your shirt to the hamper.”
He hummed in response, peeking his hand from behind the screen with the shirt in hand. As you took the shirt and walked away, Idia slowly moved to look at you. Once he was sure your eyes were firmly ahead (and briefly taking a look at your ass), he launched himself back into bed, the smell of clean linen filling his nose. 
Idia sighed, a faux exhaustion settling into his bones as he sunk into the bed. He tensed as he felt you sit on the edge to this right. 
“Idia?” you hummed as he closed his eyes to focus on the darkness behind them, instead of you worried expression. 
He hummed in response. 
“Nurse Goethel said that the remedy is actually quick and easy, right?”
He hummed again.  
“You’ll just keep coughing hydrangeas until you do something, right?”
“...Yea.” Idia replied in a monotone voice. 
You sighed, a bit in frustration he thinks. “So?”
“...So?”
“Why don’t you?” You stretched out the last vowel with a questioning sound.
“Why don’t I?” Idia mimicked you. 
"Why don't you just confess?"
“Wha?” He yelped, looking at you like you’d grown heads like a hydra. “W-what do y-you mean, confess!? Are you crazy?”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, “It would help, wouldn’t it? And Nurse Goethel said it’s rare for it to not be reciprocated, so what do you have to lose?”
“First of all, what’s left of my dignity. Second, I’m not some ML in a romance manhwa. And, third!” Idia straightened up to look you in the eyes, a burst of confidence filling his veins in pure frustration and annoyance. “There’s no way that anyone would be interested in some loser like me, so what’s the point—”
“But I like you!”
Silence fell between you two as the realization of your words settled into both your minds. You, with a growing blush and look of embarrassment, and Idia gaping at you like a fish out of water.”
“Huh.”
“I said,” You murmured, twiddling with the ends of your hair. “That I like you. A lot. I think you’re really fun to be around, you’re even though you're shy and kinda geeky, you’re really passionate about the stuff you like. Idia.”
Your hand reached for his, hesitantly like you were afraid you’d burn him. As you laced your fingers together, Idia felt a lump form in his throat. He kept silent though, watching as you smiled shyly. 
“You’re sweet to your brother, and I notice, to me sometimes too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you coming out to class more often so we could hang? I missed you this week…it was really lonely without you, even with all my friends.”
Still holding his hand, you leaned in closer to his face, looking at him earnestly. Was this real? Did he unlock a secret route with you without noticing? Why did you keep looking at his lips? OMG WAS THIS REAL—
“Idia,” You snapped him out of his thoughts as the distance between you two kept closing. “If the person you like doesn’t return your feelings, then they didn’t deserve you in the first place. I’ll be there to support you, even if you don’t like me the same way, I’ll always care for you as your friend—”
“But it is you.” Idia blurted out. Whether it was due to a mysterious burst of energy or just a slip of the tongue, he didn’t know. 
“W-what! Idia, you don’t have to try and make me feel—” you tried to stutter an excuse, cheeks pink like the fiery tips of his hair. 
“It’s you! I got this cause of you, cause I knew—I thought,” Idia started to ramble, getting up to grab you by the shoulders and shake. “I thought that you couldn’t like some weirdo like me. Are you telling me I could’ve snatched an SSR level kiss scene with you at any time??!!”
It was your turn to be shocked, a bewildered look in your eyes and Idia rapidly spoke, taking little breaths between sentences.
“Do you know what you do to me?? The thoughts, the dreams I have about you? I see you and get all hot and bothered and you’re telling me that I didn’t have to be some maidenless normie this entire time? I could’ve been lockin’ lips and getting my dick we—”
A sharp shriek leaving Idia’s mouth was muffled as you shoved your lips into his, effectively shutting up his rant. He whimpered as you swiped your tongue along his lips, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Idia, perhaps in the throes of passion, or not wanting to miss out on this once in a lifetime pull, reciprocated, albeit with a nervous hesitation. 
You seemed to approve, pressing your chest against his as your mouth moved against his, tongues dancing and moans being shared between half taken breaths. His hands hovered over you until you let go of his neck to guide his hands and place them over your hips. An arousing moan left your lips as your hands gently pushed his chest. 
Idia’s world slightly shifted as he fell back first into the bed, your hair creating a curtain as you separated from him. A line of shiny spit followed you, breaking as he gasped for breath while you leaned back down to press kisses against his neck, flowering the disappearing hydrangeas. 
He yelped as your teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot, opening his mouth to blurt out, “I'm so happy that you confessed first.” 
You let out a breathless giggle, turning your head and resting your chin on his neck to look up at him with, he swears on the Star Rouge sequel, hearts in your eyes. “Why?” 
“If I had to dig out another hydrangea petal from my teeth, I was gonna lose it.” Idia chuckled, “I’m sorry you have to deal with such a coward like me.”
“Idia.” You firmly responded, “Don’t. I like you as you are. We’re both young, we have time to grow. I’ll grow with you, if you’ll have me?
Looking down at you, practically on top of him, Idia opened his mouth to tease your softness, and suddenly froze. The mortifying, though wonderful he had to admit, scene was dawning on him as his entire body heated up and turned red. 
“Uuuuuwwwwwahaaahahahahaha—you’reontopofmethere’sagirlontopofmeisthisanewlevelinyourouteIdidn’tprepareforthis—mmmfph!”
You effectively shut him up with another kiss to his lips, smiling as Idia was shocked into silence with a dopy, wobbly smile forming on his lips.
“Relax, Idia, I’ll take the lead on all the romance stuff until you get the hang of it. For now you can be my player two!”
Idia snorted, smirking at you as he teased, “That’s such a cringey thing to say~”
“You say things like that all the time!” 
The two of you shared a soft laugh, unaware of the audience of two at the door watching. Ortho recorded the memory for the wedding he was already planning in his head, while the nurse muttered to herself about wasting time gathering ingredients for a prescription potion she no longer needed. Despite this, she smiled, happy that her little words of encouragement to the Prefect earlier worked. 
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gachagon · 18 days
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This is big spoilers for the commercials in the Awayfrompryingeyes website on the Welcome Home site.
I've been saying since DAY 1 that Eddie Dear was going to be one of the most important Neighbors to pay attention too, aside from Julie, Frank, and Sally. And this update just practically confirmed it, I had this long running suspicion about Eddie Dear, and it's that I think he was one of the first besides Wally to gain sentience in a way.
I know most people believe Wally was the one who "woke" up first essentially and was able to see the reality of what they were actually living in, but I think Eddie Dear was the first of Wally's friends to actually wake up. My reasoning for this is that Eddie's "backstory" on the neighborhood page is so vague and strange compared to the other neighbors. He's the ONLY one who doesn't remember where he came from, and we see routinely throughout these updates that he's kind of the odd man out a lot of the times.
And that's not totally unusual for a kids show, but there's something about Eddie that just points to him being a lot different from the other puppets. Like that he's also the only one who's able to actually tell what time it is, as he's the only neighbor with a real watch.
And he really REALLY wants to fit so badly into the world of Welcome Home that he sticks to his job as a mailman as much as he can. But even looking at his interactions with the others, you can tell he's not quite playing the role he's been set as perfectly.
I don't think Home (the house) had anything to do with Eddie waking up, I actually think it was a combination of Eddie just not being able to mesh well with the part he has to play and the other characters breaking his routine without asking him. The moment that really shakes him is when he can hear the Narrator say "And Eddie Dear was happy." and i think that's because he really doesn't know if he is happy or not. Home is still strange because its obviously the one thing that Eddie fixates on when he first gains sentience, but I don't think its what shook him out of just being a puppet only.
Eddie is also so obviously playing along with the idea of Homewarming and doesn't actually know much about it. But he's not letting the others know this, as when he's alone is when he tells himself to just "focus on the festivities" instead of the other confusing parts of Homewarming. When he's with Poppy decorating the tree (with turkey...? and gravy...?) He just makes it seem like what they're doing is a no brainer, and something everyone does during the holidays.
But when he starts spiraling at the party, all of the things he helped decorate look strange and confusing to him. He can't focus on anything, staring into the wallpaper makes it seem worse, and the fabric of his own reality is literally being ripped at the seams (there's just an excessive amount of video tearing which I equate to Eddie's sense of sanity at the moment and just how present he really is)
It's here that Eddie finally realizes just what they're doing, and what everything really truly looks like. Eddie even tries to focus solely on Frank's face to sort of ground him, but the goddamned credits for the episode itself is playing over Frank's face and obscuring his vision. The scene itself wants to move on but Eddie is still able to see what the audience normally wouldn't be able too, and that split from his reality to ours is what makes him freak out in the end.
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velaryon-seahores · 7 months
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Eclipsed Love Part II.
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Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!reader ( Modern au )
synopsis : You and Aemond shared a romantic bond during your high school years. However, your relationship took a turn when an unexpected pregnancy altered the dynamics. Aemond, driven by aspirations of pursuing a career in medicine, struggled to reconcile his dreams with the newfound responsibilities. Meanwhile, the financial constraints and fear of revealing the situation to your strict parents left you without options, making abortion unattainable. When Aemond chose to end the relationship, you made the difficult decision to vanish, seeking a fresh start. Years later, your son fell seriously ill, necessitating medical attention. The twist in the tale was that the doctor who held the key to your son's recovery happened to be none other than his biological father, Aemond.
Warning: angst, hurt/comfort. Literally that’s it.
Word count : 3.9k
A/n : comments likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!❤️
This chapter was superrrrrrrrr long I had to split it into two, this might be a boring chapter because Unfortunately I had to cut out the important scene but bare with me, I promise we will have grays anatomy type of drama
Part I Part III
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Stabbed in the heart.
As you laid eyes on him and his voice reached your ears, it felt like a sharp dagger had been plunged into your heart.
Across the passing years, you toiled ceaselessly to mend the pain he had sown within you. Each effort, a step toward stitching the wounds he had inflicted, aiming to stride forward. But in a mere heartbeat, his very presence shattered it all. Your hand instinctively found your chest, fingers cradling the pieces of your broken heart, keeping them from falling apart.
And right then, a wave of understanding washed over you – the truth hit home with stunning clarity. You saw, as if for the first time, that your wounds had never fully healed, that the notion of moving on was a fragile illusion. Here, tears tracing a familiar path down your cheeks, you stood in that bathroom, a parallel to the sixteen-year-old you, the girl whose heart he shattered.
Oh, the heartlessness of fate, forcing you to revisit the day that haunted your fears, compelling you to endure once more the darkest hours of your existence. It was the day when dreams crumbled into dust, love turned into ashes, and you were never the same again.
A bitter laugh escaped your lips as your gaze met its reflection in the mirror. Qoren's knocks at the door, your tears falling, Aemond as their cause – the scene was hauntingly familiar. Too familiar.
How cruel fate is for making you repeat the scenario.
How cruel.
Ten years ago..
During lunch break, you stood alone behind the school walls. In the same spot you and Aemond would usually meet to have some passionate sex session, but now you anxiously waited for Aemond, your hands tightly clenched in fear.
A hand embraced you, pulling you close against a firm chest. "Already missing me?"
Aemond.
A quivering exhale escaped your lips, carrying with it the weight of your emotions, as you turned gracefully into his embrace, enveloped by the security of his arms with your head buried in his warm chest.
“ Hey baby.. what’s wrong?” He asked as he pulled you away from him, cupping your face in his large hands to look at you “ What’s wrong!”
Tears flowed freely, your sobs becoming a river of emotions. Aemond pulled you into his embrace once more, holding you close and gently cradling your head as he hushed your cries. "Y/n, love, please tell me. What's happened? Talk to me."
With trembling lips, you managed to speak amidst the tears. "I... I'm pregnant."
You felt his hand go still, and you could sense him holding his breath as the weight of your words sank in. "What?" His voice was a mixture of shock and disbelief.
Looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes, you saw his expression transform into one of horror and disbelief. "I'm pregnant," you repeated, your voice quivering.
"How?" The word escaped his lips, laden with a sense of disbelief and confusion.
Your voice was strained as you recounted the events leading up to this moment. "Your brother, Aegon's party," you explained, your voice catching as you relived the memory. "We were drunk, and you forgot to wear a condom... I think I forgot to take the pill."
Aemond's grip on you seemed to loosen, his hand slipping into his hair as his distress became evident. "My parents are going to kill me if they find out, Aemond! My mother... she noticed it before me, and she's going to take me to the ob—"
"Get rid of it," he interrupted sharply, his tone cutting through the air with a firmness you had never heard before, catching you off guard.
You tried to explain, your voice strained with fear and anxiety. "You know that my family only gives me a strict amount of money! And... I'm scared to have an abortion at home—"
"What do you want me to do?" His tone grew a little louder, causing you to flinch.
"Aemond!" You looked at him, confusion and hurt in your eyes. Why was he reacting this way? "My mother is taking me to the doctor tomorrow morning! She won't even let me go to school! You know how they view the whole 'being pregnant before marriage' thing."
Desperation filled your gaze as you took his hand in yours, holding it tightly. "Just lie to them! Tell them we'll get married after sch—"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" He took steps back from you, his voice rising. "I'm not getting married. I'm still young."
"And you won't! I said just lie." You pleaded with your eyes, hoping he would understand. "Just until they forget abo—"
"I'm not raising kids," he interrupted once again, his tone unwavering. "I applied for college just a week ago! I need to focus on my studies, I need to focus on my dreams. I don't have time to look after a fucking child. I've worked hard for this, and I'm not dropping anything in my last fucking year." He glared at you. "Get rid of it. I don't care how, just... get rid of it and don’t talk to me until you do so!" And with that, he walked away.
You had held onto the hope that he would console you, reassure you that everything would be alright. But instead, his departure left you with a sense of vulnerability and pain. The person who had vowed to stand by you had vanished when you needed him most. The person who drew stars around every scar you had, left you to bleed, alone.
Your sweet Aemond left you with a bigger scar. A scar that you weren’t sure if the stars would heal.
An hour ticked by, and you remained rooted in the same place, tears flowing freely, unchecked. Uncertainty gripped you; you felt lost. The thought of your parents discovering the truth filled you with dread. Their strict beliefs would likely lead them to demand that you keep the baby, only to give it away or face disownment. It was a future you didn't want. The idea of nurturing this life within you, only to have it taken away, was agonizing.
In the end, you sought refuge in the school bathroom, seeking the seclusion of one of the stalls. There, you let your tears flow, a torrent of emotions consuming you. It was only when your friend Qoren broke through the door that you found a lifeline, pulling you out of the depths of your despair.
"Y/n, don't make me break this door!" Qoren's voice echoed urgently, and an unexpected laughter bubbled out of you.
Wiping away your tears, you gazed at your reflection in the mirror for a brief moment, collecting yourself. You knew you had to bury these overwhelming emotions; you had no other choice. Your son's health was fragile; his heart was weak, and the last thing you wanted was to stress him. Protecting him from worry was paramount.
Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, finding solace in the whispered reassurance you offered yourself. "I'm okay," you murmured, a quiet mantra, like a promise to both yourself and your sweet child.
You had intended to linger a bit longer, hoping to regain your composure, but as soon as you heard Luke's voice behind the door, an urgency propelled you to open it without delay.
"Mom! What happened? Are you okay?" Luke's worry spilled out as the door swung open. Your gaze flickered to Qoren first, who extended his hand to you immediately, guiding you out of the bathroom.
Glancing upwards, your eyes met Qoren's, his subtle shake of the head conveying a shared understanding.
"It's because of the doctor, is it not?" Luke's earnest eyes held yours once more.
Your breath caught in your throat as you formulated a response, the urge to shield your son from unease overpowering. "No, sweetheart, not because of that," you lied, masking your true emotions. "I'm just worried about you."
Unconvinced, Luke continued to study you. "I don't believe you."
Your reassurances faltered, and you stood, gently taking his small hand in yours, guiding him back to the bed. "It's true," you insisted, your voice bearing the weight of your sincerity. "He's a specialist, a heart surgeon. I've heard he only takes on serious cases, and it made me anxious."
"But I'm fine," Luke's voice held a note of certainty as he reassured you, his hand reaching out to clasp yours.
"We know, buddy," Qoren's presence offered additional comfort as he stood beside you, his arm enveloping your shoulders in a gesture of support. "But we still worry about you."
"Why did he walk away?"
"Perhaps he forgot something," you suggested.
"Yeah, like his stethoscope or something," Qoren added.
Luke surveyed the two of you for a contemplative moment before finally nodding.
Unable to resist the urge, you showered Luke's head with affectionate kisses before enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Hungry?" you inquired gently.
His next request pulled at your heartstrings. "Can I have a turkey sandwich?"
A soft chuckle escaped you, warmth filling your eyes. "Of course."
Glancing at Qoren, you exchanged a silent understanding, and with a nod, you indicated for him to step outside with you.
"I'll check with the doctor while you go grab something to eat from the cafeteria," Qoren suggested, his gaze on Luke. "Is it all right if you stays here alone for a little while?"
"Sure," Luke replied, his attention already shifting back to his iPad.
As you and Qoren stepped out, the door closing behind you, your apprehension spilled forth. "I don't want that fucker anywhere near my son," your voice was tense, carrying a hint of urgency that made Qoren look around nervously.
"We'll find another doctor," Qoren's voice was a soothing balm, his reassurance gentle. "There must be more skilled surgeons available. If you wish, we can even consider transferring him to another hospital. My father knows good doctors in Essos; we can explore that option. And please, don't worry about expenses—I'll take care of it all."
Gratitude swelled within you, your eyes misting over. He drew you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Come, let's go talk to the doctor," he urged softly.
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Half an hour had slipped by, and Aemond remained confined within the hospital, in the bathroom in the surgeon's lounge. He couldn't bring himself to move, his body shaking too much to even get to his car and drive home. He sat on the bathroom floor, waiting anxiously for his sister Helaena to pick up the phone.
You…He saw you.
There you stood, a presence that seemed to pierce through his very being. The girl who had plagued his dreams, who had woven herself into every conscious moment and every corner of his mind. The girl he had fervently tried to erase, burying himself in the pages of books and the rigors of surgeries. For a decade, he had scoured the realms of social media, reached out to your parents, and maintained contact with your friends in the hopes of catching a glimpse of your existence. And now, here you were, finally in front of him. But he chose to walk away once more.
In truth, he had no choice but to leave. He couldn't ignore the pain etched in your eyes, the anger that radiated from you. He couldn't deny the depths of hurt that he had caused, nor could he offer any words that could possibly erase or atone for his actions.
Stupid Aemond... Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Regret and self-loathing coursed through his thoughts, a relentless self-critique that echoed within him. He recognized the depth of his mistake, the gravity of his choices. As he remained perched on the bathroom floor, he grappled with the weight of his own shortcomings, the realization of the missed opportunities and the pain he had caused.
Finally, as if an eternity had passed, Helaena's voice broke through the silence.
"What... What the hell do you w—gods, Aemond, are you crying?" Her voice trembled, faltering as it caught the rawness in his.
"...She's here..." Aemond's voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes, blurred by the veil of his tears, bore a weight that seemed almost unbearable. "She... She's here, Helaena. I... I have a son."
There was a pause, a momentary silence on the other end of the line, as the gravity of his words began to unfurl. And then Helaena's voice, tinged with disbelief, spoke into his anguish. "Wait, wait, are you talking about... y/n?" Her words carried a mixture of confusion and shock. "She was in Dorne this whole ti—YOU HAVE A SON!"
Aemond's heart ached, a complex fusion of emotions waging a tempest within him. "I... She told me she had an abortion! She... She said she went through with it!" His grip on the phone faltered, and it tumbled from his hand to the floor, an emblem of his shattered resolve. "That was the last thing she said before she blocked me and disappeared."
The words hung heavily between them, a tapestry of regret and longing, of mistakes and missed chances. And then, Aemond's voice quivered with a tremor that seemed to encapsulate a lifetime of ache. "I know, Helaena. He's mine." His voice wavered, and in those words, a world of heartache was painted.
“ How do you know ?”
"He... He has my eyes, Helaena... purple eyes, just like mine. And his hair... He has our mother curls and a hint of silver “ The lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him, his words trembling on the brink of despair. "His nose, his lips... They're like mine."
But then, the dam broke. Aemond's voice cracked, and he was consumed by a tidal wave of sobs. "And he probably hates me... Just like I despised my father. Maybe he looks at me the way we once looked at Viserys."
In response, Helaena's voice was a soft anchor amidst the tumultuous sea of emotions. "You are not him, Aemond. You couldn't have known."
"I did," Aemond's voice quivered, his palm pressing against his chest as though to contain the shards of his own heart from shattering. "I knew... And yet, I asked her to get rid of him... I'm worse than Viserys."
"Have you talked to her?" Helaena's voice was a whisper, a thread of hope laced with a touch of reproach.
"No... I ran away," his admission was a painful whisper, an admission of his own inadequacy.
"Aemond..." Disappointment laced her voice, a mirror to the disappointment he felt in himself.
"What am I supposed to do?" The question held a pang of helplessness, a plea that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of words. "No matter what I say, it won't change anything. No matter what I do, I can't erase my past. I can't undo what's been done. I can't bring back y/n."
Helaena's response was a bittersweet echo, a reflection of truth and reconciliation. "You're right. You can't undo the past, and you won't get her back. But grant her the peace of mind by letting her know that you have suffered. Tell her you regret everything, that every breath is a reminder of the choices that drove her away. Tell her you're miserable, that life has lost its meaning, that the ambition you sought so tirelessly now rings hollow. She lost so much, Aemond. Her family, her dreams, her stability... she bore the weight of your absence alone. You won't get y/n, but you can at least do right by her ."
The dam within Aemond burst, his voice muffled by sobs"But I want her back. I want her to look at me again with those eyes that once held love."
There was a poignant pause "I'm afraid that won't happen, Aemond," her voice held a gentle sorrow, a reflection of the choices that had led them here. "You brought this upon yourself."
"Then what do I do, Helaena?" His voice was a fragile whisper, an echo of his vulnerability in its purest form. "Tell me, please."
"Go find her," her voice held a quiet resolve, a beacon of guidance through the haze of his pain. "Do what I told you. I'll book a flight, be with you in a few hours."
“Please hurry," Aemond's voice quivered with plea "Please, I need you."
"Gather yourself, Aemond," her voice was an anchor, a lifeline he desperately clung to. "Wash your face, and go."
And as the call ended, he was left alone with his shattered heart, the burden of his mistakes weighing heavily upon him. Struggling to his feet, Aemond rose from the cold bathroom floor, his hand clutching the sink for support. He gripped the faucet and let the frigid water flow, splashing it onto his face again and again in a desperate attempt to snap himself out of his overwhelming state. His gaze lingered on his own reflection in the mirror for a few moments, as if searching for answers that remained just out of reach.
With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the sink, leaving the lounge and heading towards his son room.
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Standing behind lucerys room, Aemond gently knocked the door, his hand trembling and so is his breath and legs. Withe shakuy hand ge reach for the door handle and open it.
The room was empty, only his son in inside, Lucerys was looking at him up and down.
“ H..Hello, young man “ his lips trembled with each word leaving his mouth “ Where is your mother?”
Lucerys expression were that of disgust, but then he immediately turned them to neutral “ Cafeteria “
“ And.. and your ..father?” Those words that he forced out of his lips cuts him deep.
“ He was supposed to talk to you “ Lucerys let go of his ipad and flooded his arms in front of him.
“ Me?”
“ Yes you, aren’t you my heart doctor ? “ Lucerys raised his brows.
“ Ah. He must went to the pediatrician. And there has been some changes, so I’m not your doctor anymore “
Lucerys humm and looked him up and down before returning back to his ipad “ you should leave then “
Aemond looked at him for few minutes, swallowing thickly “ I .. Can I check on your heart ?”
“ sure “
Aemond nodded and hesitantly walked towards him, he got out his stethoscope and listened to his heart beat, it was irregular but there was no crackling sound so he was okay for now.
He then looked at his ancle and there was no swelling so he was safe and the danger of heart failure was not high.
“ You are fine, your heart is stable for now “ Aemond sadly smiled “ You will be alright “
Lucerys didn’t respond, he just put on his headphones and gave him a quick fake smile before paying attention to his ipad.
He took a step toward the door, a faint smile playing on his lips as he contemplated how much Lucerys resembled his uncle, Aegon. But as he moved to leave, something froze him in his tracks. His head snapped back toward the sound, eyes widening, and his throat tightened painfully.
"Qogralbar ao kepa, kirimvogon Jaes ziry geptot ao." ( Fuck you dad, thank god she left you )
Aemond turned back to face Lucerys, his expression a mix of shock and realization. His throat constricted, and his lips parted, but no words came forth.
"I’m not stupid, I have eyes and I can see the resemblance, I knew you looked familiar. Plus my mom’s behavior confirmed it all to me, crying over a silver head with eyes that look like mine? can’t she be more obvious. Not to mention that she is a terrible liar ” Luke shook and looked out the window for few minutes, “ You made her cry earlier, and if she sees you, she might cry again," his voice laced with determination as he returned to look at him "And I..." luke tilted his head, his young eyes locked onto Aemond's. "Don't like to see my mother cry. So get the fuck out and don’t you ever bother her again "
Aemond's heart weighed heavier than it ever had before, burdened by a sadness he had never known. His worst fears had materialized before him, unfolding like a nightmare he couldn't escape. In the story of Lucerys's life, he was cast as Viserys, and you, y/n, had become the haunting reflection of his own mother, Alicent. The parallels were undeniable, a stark reminder that history had a cruel way of repeating itself.
Yet, he knew, deep within, that he was not his father. He was not the same. He might not be able to win you back, but he was determined to be unlike the man who had hurt him and countless others. Just as Helaena had advised, he would give you the peace of mind you deserved, something his own mother had never found, not even in Viserys's final moments.
His voice trembled with regret as he whispered to Lucerys, "I'm sorry, kid. Forgive me." With those words, he left the room, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes, and headed toward the cafeteria, where he would seek you out, hoping for a chance to make amends, even if he couldn't turn back time or erase his transgressions.
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You stood in line at the bustling cafeteria, surrounded by a cacophony of chatter, clinking dishes, and the soft hum of refrigeration units. Your mind weighed heavily with the day's decisions, the uncertainty of your son's health, and the resurgence of someone you'd hoped to forget.
After leaving the doctor's office, you had meticulously sifted through profiles and recommendations until you found a new physician for Luke—Doctor Arthur Dayne. His impressive track record and friendly demeanor had reassured you.
Qoren had volunteered to stay behind, intent on gathering all necessary details about potential surgeries or treatments. It was a relief to know you had a friend who would shoulder some of the weight while you ventured to fetch a turkey sandwich for Luke.
Thoughts swirled like a tempest in your mind—Luke's health and the shadow it cast over his future, the practicalities of appointments and treatments, and, looming above all else, his fucking father.
the lady at the cafeteria counter snapped you out of your reverie with a cheery, "Hello, ma'am."
You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before responding, "Hi." Your voice carried a hint of distraction as you glanced at the menu. "I'll have a turkey sandwich, please. And could you cut it in half? Make one of them small."
The cafeteria worker nodded with practiced ease, jotting down your order before turning to assemble it.
You offered a small, reflexive smile but couldn't shake the heaviness that lingered within you. It was a weight you'd grown accustomed to, the burden of being a single parent facing life's uncertainties head-on.
While you waited, you couldn't help but contemplate your own well-being. You'd started to consider seeking therapy, recognizing that burying your feelings wouldn't help. You needed a way to express them, process the trauma, and find a path to healing.
"Here you go!" The cafeteria worker presented you with the bag, accompanied by a warm smile that momentarily lifted your spirits.
You reached into your purse to retrieve your wallet,"Thank you," you offered,
With your wallet safely back in your purse, you turned your attention to making your way through the cafeteria, eager to reunite with Luke. But as you moved, you accidentally bumped into a solid, warm form.
Looking up to apologize, your words caught in your throat as you realized who stood before you….
" Why did you tell me you had an abortion ? "
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Taglist :
@namelesslosers @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @fernanda-reads @moonlightazriel @topaz125 @justrybca @girlwith-thepearlearring @anehkael @teamstorybooks @riseandreigns4u @noemienakamoto @lijeno @watercolorskyy @afro-hispwriter @khaleesihel @praline357 @fantasticpeaceharmony @brianochka @sweethoneyblossom1 @happinessinthebeing @snh96 @heavenly1927 @zenka69 @toodlesxcuddles @lunamoonbby @blairfox04 @multiple-fandoms-girl @tsujifreya @tempo-rary-fix @lipgloss05 @carriellie @dc-marvel-girl96 @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @daenerysqueenofhearts @notnormalthings-blog @bluevxnus @Littlelilly27-blog
@misspascalpunk @exitpursuedbyavulcan @saminalloxo @trshngyn @docmartinis @drmeghanjones
My apologies if I forgot anyone.
— Next chapter we have a FIGHT
1K notes · View notes
hannieween · 2 months
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killer | heartbreaker series | c.sc
Choi Seungcheol is a strategist to his core. And he thought it would be simple to steal princess from her castle. Well, he thought wrong.
✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✧ aus: gambler seungcheol, boyfriend seungcheol ✧ word count: 18.3k
↣ previous chapters – other fics – buy me coffee? ᨐฅ
₊🎧: heartbreak – minho | winterfall – dpr ian | flower-ed – i.m
₊ nsfw tags under the cut
✧ warnings: flashback chapter, this chapter is really long pls bear w me, smut with plot, reader has an abusive family, cheol is a bit possessive, a whole lot of drama i warned you, first times, corruption kink, oral sex (f), pussy stretching, body worshipping, multiple unprotected sex scenes, pull out method, a whole lot of exhibitionism: sex in public spaces; mentions of alcohol, couch sex, creampie, daddy kink, dom seungcheol, sub reader, big dick seungcheol, monsta x i.m makes an appearance (i love that man, let me be), pet names: love, baby, beautiful, angel (hers), daddy, babe (his)
✧ a/n: this is loosely proofread.
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✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
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part iii
six years before – (first year together)
The first time Seungcheol saw you, he swore he had never laid eyes on someone so beautiful. You were strolling around the party wearing a literal tiara on your head and a sparkly dress that played with his eyesight when you walked past him. 
The place was so packed with people but still, you had managed to drive the attention of nearby eyes to you only. When you danced with your girlfriends all in a group and started drinking out of a strawberry vodka, straight from the bottle.
"Birthday girl gets to drink first!" one of your friends chanted over the loud music. That was how Seungcheol knew that it was your birthday. 
Probably that explained the tiara on your head, he thought.
Although Seungcheol had found at last something interesting to hold his attention to, he couldn't help but think that it was a weird place for someone like you to be in. 
He sat at a round foldable table, a ragged green cloth covered it. Completely cluttered with red plastic cups, ashtrays, a lonely tequila bottle and packs of cards. 
Seungcheol had thought that the reunion for tonight would only be for the game. But upon arriving he immediately thought that the crowd was mixed, since on one corner you and your friends were getting blasted, another corner was occupied by the table he was sitting at. And between them, a lot of people who he didn't recognize.
One of your friends laughed loudly when you tilted your head back, mouth wide open while the other poured alcohol down your throat. But you closed your mouth too soon, spilling vodka on your chin and down your neck. 
"What the fuck?" Changkyun muttered under his breath, flicking the bud of the cigarette he was taking to his mouth to give it a long draw, winking one eye as he looked over his shoulder to your friend group. 
"Honey's girlfriend invited them," Seungcheol explained briefly, after being informed of the situation. "It's someone's birthday, I think."
"Mm," he nodded his head and exhaled the smoke slowly. "That would explain all the squealing." 
There was indeed a lot of laughter and squealing coming from your friend group. He noticed that you were probably just here for a pre-drinking session because it was a tad bit too early to be downing shots like that, unless you were planning to go elsewhere. 
You twirled around for one of your friends who apparently wanted to see your sparkly dress and when you did, you elicited a bunch of 'aws' and compliments from your girlfriends, making you blush and cover your face with your hands. 
Seungcheol smiled. Pretty. He threw his head back as he downed the last sip of soju from the bottle. Mind reeling, split in two between the game and the start of his new plan. 
When the game came to an end, Seungcheol collected his prize from the table and pocketed it with a nonchalant expression on his face. 
Changkyun clicked his tongue. "I'll get you next time, Coups." 
Seungcheol rolled his eyes when he heard his friend use his old nickname. "Sure you will, Kyun." 
He rose from the chair and followed his friend out the tiny apartment and onto the open halls of the building complex for a smoke. 
Seungcheol shook his head when offered the blunt. "I'm driving back home," he muttered and bent on the rails to prop his elbows over it. 
Changkyun sucked in a breath and blew the smoke slowly. It was quiet outside, the night had only begun and he could sense that the interesting part was just about to begin. 
"Hiii," a small chirpy voice broke the silence. Seungcheol looked over his shoulder and his friend did too. 
A girl, who Seungcheol vaguely recognized, waved her hand at the pair of unsuspecting men. 
"Hi," Changkyun replied first, the velvet lacing his voice almost made Seungcheol huff in utter embarrassment. 
"Me and my friends are going to this club and we'd like you guys to come with us," she breathed in some of her nervousness. "If you wanna come, obviously." 
Seungcheol remained silent and turned so that he wasn't giving his back to the girl. 
"We'd love to," Changkyun replied first, making Seungcheol arch an eyebrow inquisitively. 
"Great!" the girl replied with a small jolt and turned to run towards your friend group, who watched the whole interaction from afar. "Oh, we're leaving in ten!" 
Seungcheol sent his friend a glare. 
"Wha?" Changkyun squeaked and huffed. "You need to go out more, man. Meet people, girls, dunno." 
"I don't wanna babysit." 
His friend clicked his mouth. "Ayy, you're such a prissy ass," he reprimanded. "Nobody said you'll be babysitting. Have fun for once. Real fun."  
The smell of burnt weed had started to affect him, surely, because Seungcheol only shook his head and said: "Fine. But I can't stay long, okay? I have a game tomorrow morning." 
"I have a game tomorrow morning," Changkyun parroted, doing a poor imitation of Seungcheol's tone and then huffed again before tucking the blunt on his lips one final time. "Nerd." 
"Asshole," he retorted and rolled his eyes.
Seungcheol's friend was a bit of a player, as long as he had known him, he had never settled with one partner for longer than three months. Which, to Seungcheol's point of view, was whatever.
But to his friend, Seungcheol was a total loner.
"It doesn't hurt to do something different once in a while," he encouraged with a small smile. "You're in your head way too much."
"Mm," Seungcheol nodded and made no comment about it.
The only times he has been in these kinds of situations, had been solely because of his friends. He's not one to go out clubbing, if he wants to get drunk, he does it at home, which in this case would mean, his friends' homes, not at his parents.
So as soon as he followed Changkyun, and a group of girls down the packed, steamy, grimy club, he immediately wanted to turn around and leave.
But he felt dragged by his friend, who was eyeing him warning and knowing looks, making Seungcheol feel like a dick, because he totally was already planning an excuse to go home.
And for once, Seungcheol decided to relax. He didn't have any excuses to go home, and in reality, he did need to go out more, he did need to meet people, rather than staying secluded in his own little bubble.
Changkyun immediately found a place to sit, and to manspread, Seungcheol noted silently. His friend knew what he was doing, because as soon as they found a place to watch your pretty friends reunite around a table and dance, they slowly started flocking around him.
Seungcheol snorted and rolled his eyes when a girl sat between him and his friend in the small seat. It was inevitable, Changkyun always had that quiet alluring aura about him. Whereas Seungcheol was more closed off, which, to him, was alright.
He watched under the neon lights the group of girls progressively get drunker, sloppier, happier until the night reached its high and the energy started to decline rapidly.
He stopped paying attention the minute his friend started snogging the girl that made the invitation for them to come, and feeling like he had a window of opportunity to leave, he rose from the seat and snuck out of the club.
Once outside, Seungcheol exhaled the fresh air of the night and looked up at the dark, moonless night. Torn between going back and telling his friend that he was going home or simply pulling a disappearing act and going home.
"Watch your head, oh no, careful–," he heard someone let out a silly chortle. "Oh my god, your dad is going to kill us."
Seungcheol turned and saw you trying to get one of your friends in the backseat of a car. You had your friend wrapped in one arm and managed to get the door open with the other.
"Get in there," you laughed again when your friend started to put in some resistance, not wanting to leave for home. "Oh my god, this looks so bad, Chae please get in there."
Your friend laughed with you, giving up the fight and you closed the car door, waving your friend back as the car drove away. You exhaled tiredly, and drunkenly and slowly turned.
"Oh, hi there," you gasped, a bit startled by his presence. "Did you see all that?"
Seungcheol nodded silently.
"That was my friend's dad," you put in quickly. "Please don't think that I was aiding a kidnapping."
He couldn't bring himself to reply. He obviously saw the situation as it was and didn't interpret it in a wrongful way.
But he also saw in your eyes that you were quite drunk, the rosy colored cheeks and glistening eyes. You were trying to make him laugh, and he totally didn't get it.
"Are you–," you breathed and looked nervous again. "A friend of Kyun's?"
Seungcheol didn't reply again, not as quickly as you wanted.
"One of my friends has a stupid crush on him," you explained and brushed off with a hand. "I was just wondering because... well, I've seen you around campus."
He felt an eyebrow immediately quirk up before he could control himself. "You have?"
You put your hands on your waist and staggered a little bit. Seungcheol noted that you looked tired and, probably from wearing really high heels, and being drunk didn't help much with your balance either.
"Yeah, you're part of the soccer team, right? And you... you're always at the library too," your tone faltered a little by the end of your sentence and you looked away, clearly embarrassed.
Seungcheol couldn't help but grin a little when he noticed you were flustered. "I'd never seen you around," he admitted, enjoying the blush that intensified on your face. "You've been to my games?"
"I've watched you train... once," you stuttered, raising your drunken gaze back at him.
Were you... flirting with him? Probably. Seungcheol noticed that you looked nervous right away, but you were also drunk and that made you brutally honest.
That made him smile for the first time, your big starry eyes zeroed on his lips when he did that. "And... the library?"
"I'm always there too," you mumbled, bringing a hand to brush some hairs off your face.
The cold wind ruffled his hair too, and your hands held onto the sparkly fabric of your pretty dress when it threatened to blow your skirt. You giggled in utter embarrassment but he just thought you were cute.
And apparently, from your reaction and from your drunken comments, you thought the same about him too.
Seungcheol was the cute library crush you always found caught up on schoolwork at the library desks.
At first you thought it was nice that the sportsy, popular guy would mostly be found buried in essays, but once you saw that his popularity was something he didn't even remotely desired, you found him quite alluring.
And from the moment you noticed him, you saw him everywhere around campus. At the gym, the library, the café. Being that he was of the older generations, a lot of girls found him cute too.
"I probably should go back," you slurred after a brief moment of silence and pointed a thumb back to the club's entrance.
Seungcheol thought of anything to keep you there, but at the same time, he had nothing to say yet, he was just enjoying the dazed look on your face, the pinkish cheeks and the sloppy way you licked your lips.
"Happy birthday," he muttered with an honest smile.
You stopped in your tracks, looking completely flustered, you showed him a small frown, a question written in your eyes.
"Thank you."
You smiled sheepishly and he gave you a polite nod before you went back to your friends.
But that was the moment he solidified his plan.
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The campus library was always cold. The windows were high in the ceiling, so what little sunlight they let in didn't help alleviate the morning chill either.
Seungcheol sat at one of the most secluded desks, buried in his thesis work. At the moment he was just reading and gathering sources, but he was aching to start writing it so he could just be done with getting his degree.
But it was undeniable that he was brilliant. Top of his class, excelling in his sports scholarship too. He kind of hated it too, he was eager to abandon this place once and for all.
But that morning was different. As soon as he settled in his usual spot, he kept alert to any signs of you, he wondered how you noticed him first and he never did you.
Until you came down to the library, an hour and a half later. You were unsuspecting of his watchful eye and that made him curious.
You wore a fluffy sweater and had put your hair in a ponytail, which swayed and bounced a little with your walk, which he noticed was delicate. Almost as if you didn't want to draw any attention towards you, didn't want to make a sound.
Did you know he was watching you? He couldn't tell, but honestly, he felt it was fair game now that he knew you had watched him more than once.
You sat at the far extreme, and it seemed like that was your spot too. As soon as you settled the book beside your laptop, you raised your gaze to his direction, much as if that was a bit of a habit of yours.
As soon as your gazes connected, you lowered your head, pretending to bury your nose in the book sprawled open in your desk.
Seungcheol couldn't help but stifle a smile when you noticed him and made a weak attempt to pretend you weren't looking his way. But he noticed.
The next hours went down that way, exchanging meek glaces at each other that slowly progressed to more knowing, subtle looks. But it ended too soon, when you checked your phone and realized you were late for a class, gathered your things silently, but swiftly and ran from the library.
The following morning, he decided to sit closer to your table. His usual spot was occupied that day so he saw it as an opportunity to sit on the table next to yours.
Sitting across from you, diagonally, he had a clear view from your flustered face upon entering the study section of the library and finding him closer to your spot in the tables.
But you sat in your usual seat anyway. Silently setting down your stuff, your laptop and notebooks and your obnoxious amounts of post-its and highlighters and got to work.
Ten minutes later you got up to find a book on the shelves. Seungcheol couldn't help but to steal a glance at you, but you appeared to be expecting it. Your gazes crossed again and now it was his turn to look away, completely embarrassed.
He looked down at his laptop's keyboard and pretended to type something while on the inside he was deeply and utterly flustered by you.
When you came back to your seat, Seungcheol didn't dare to look your way, not immediately, he thought it would only make his case way too obvious and scare you away.
But then, in his line of vision, he saw your pretty hand slipping a piece of paper on his table with your handwriting in it.
› hi there •ᴗ•
Seungcheol finally looked up, but you were looking down to your open book, very evidently pretending to be immersed in a page. He scrambled on his backpack for a pencil or a pen, anything, just so he could return the note to you.
› hi
He slid the piece of paper back to your table, but you made no move towards it yet, so he returned to his laptop.
Some minutes later, you slipped a new piece of paper. Now, insead of a written down note, you had drawn a three-by-three grid, a single cross on the top right corner. It was a game of tic-tac-toe.
In disbelief, he raised his eyes back to your still pretentious self and smiled. Drawing his zero on the top left corner and return the game to you.
Seungcheol suspected that you didn't want to make your game evident to respect the silence in the library and the students around you. So some thirty seconds later, you returned the piece of paper and copying you, he returned it thirty seconds later as well.
The game took about three minutes. It ended with you winning when you returned the piece of paper with your three crosses aligned and a smiley face.
› that was an easy win; you said in your pretty handwriting.
Seungcheol exhaled a smile softly.
› i let you win
› sore loser?
› or a gentleman...
You snorted quietly as soon as you read that, making Seungcheol smile embarrassedly.
› i appreciate the gesture, but i prefer fair play
His eyebrow twitched slightly.
› i won't go easy on you next round, then.
› bring it on.
You watched his hand twirl the pencil around his fingers a couple of times before writing down his response. The two of you had forgotten to stay discreet, exchanging looks as you passed each other the piece of paper.
› i will on one condition.
› which is?
› that if i win, you go out on a date with me.
› and if i win?
› you choose your prize.
You slipped a new piece of paper with a clean three-by-three grid, with your cross slotted in the middle.
And either you got sloppy or let him win because the game ended too soon with him winning. Did you want him to win? He wondered.
But soon you both hit it off effortlessly. Seungcheol would soon learn that you were kindhearted, sweet and really smart. One of the reasons why you were always at the library was to keep yourself top of the class, too.
He discovered that one of your aspirations was to dedicate your life to your studies, writing, researching and unraveling the mysteries of past lives, authors and their intentions. And he thought it was great that you were determined in your career.
After a number of dates of just you two going out to grab lunch after course hours, Seungcheol made up his mind. And that was that he really liked you, and wanted something more serious.
"Careful with that," one of his friends warned one night.
It was a big university, but word got around fast that the very popular Seungcheol had his eye set on you.
"Why?" he asked slowly.
"She's kind of royalty," his friend explained, which Seungcheol only replied by pushing his eyebrows up. "I mean, look her family name up, you'll see."
Reluctantly, Seungcheol did what his friend said with a snort. Only to find that indeed, your family was kind of royalty in the city.
Owners of one of the biggest enterprises in the country, your parents appeared to be two powerful entrepreneurs with a significant influence in the country.
There were a bunch of photos of them and you posing by their side, hiding your face from the cameras. Cold, distant to you, but oddly enough dubbed by the media as philanthropists.
And before Seungcheol scrolled for more, he stopped himself.
"I don't see why this should mean anything," Seungcheol finalized, rising from the bench inside the locker rooms.
And it didn't. Not at first, at least.
One night, after much preamble of sweet glances and shy touches, Seungcheol offered you a ride home.
As you slid on the passenger seat in his brother's car, you suddenly felt a very unfamiliar heat warm up your body. You hadn't been this close to Seungcheol in private. So far, your interactions had been kept public, and you hadn't so much as touched his shoulder.
So now that you were beside him, you took a moment to calm yourself. But your anxiety was almost palpable, you became quiet, and tried to avert your gaze from him as best as you could.
But it didn't help that Seungcheol was wearing a navy polo shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And god, he was wearing those jeans today too. His meaty thighs stretched the blue and thick fabric.
Seungcheol noticed your wandering gaze, but made no comment about it.
"Um, pull over here," you signaled him nervously.
"Do you live here?" he asked as he pulled over and leaned over his seat to look up at the tall building at the center of the city.
"Yeah, wi-with my parents," you put in nervously and fidgeted for the door handle and pulled it, opening the door to scramble out of the car.
Seungcheol tilted his head inquisitively and got out of the car as well, following you to the sidewalk. It was already dark outside, so he wondered if your parents gave you some kind of curfew.
"Hold on," he said, stopping you before you could run off to the interior of the building.
"Sorry, I just–," you breathed out nervously and mustered up some courage to look up at his big puppy eyes. "I've never, ever, done this before."
"Done what?" Seungcheol asked slowly, feeling a small smile creeping on his face.
"This, d-dates, dating," you stuttered a bit, which caused you to smile shyly. "I might have some moments of boldness around you but—I really like you, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol looked at you, the sweet girl that hadn't left his mind since that moment he met you, the pretty girl he already had concocted plans to win over, you were toying with the dainty necklace with your fingers anxiously and smiled.
"Call me Cheol," he corrected softly, offering a sliver of familiarity before he added. "I like you too. A lot."
You blinked at him, your fingers stopped fidgeting and your mouth parted a little. "Cheol," you nodded, smiling at him shyly.
"We can take it slow," he offered and pressed his lips into a smile.
His dimples showed on his cheeks and your heart twisted, making your breath hitch ever so slightly.
"But... that's the thing," you crossed your arms over your chest now, and he guessed it was to keep yourself from fidgeting any more. "I don't want to... take it slow."
Seungcheol arched an eyebrow. "Please elaborate," he mumbled with a goofy chuckle.
"I mean, we've gone out five times already and you haven't even kissed me," you babbled and he could see that you were beginning to be flustered.
Seungcheol pondered for a second. Why hasn't he kissed you yet? Well, it wasn't his indecision, really. He would've done it the first time you both went out together. But the truth was, he wanted to do things right with you.
"I didn't want you to think that I'm going too fast," he mumbled hesitantly, bringing a hand up to scratch a fake itch on his nape.
"Oh," you uttered and frowned. "In that case..." you trailed off, unable to find what words to say.
Your previous words you said hung in his mind, giving out the reason why you were almost jittery whenever he even so much dared to press the palm of his hand between your shoulder blades.
You've never had a boyfriend before. Not by choice, you've had a few crushes before, but nothing that ever went farther than just simple, innocent kisses.
But Seungcheol had awakened something in you. Something so unfamiliar that unnerved you to your bones. It was a warmth that made you feel hot under your clothes, it made your blood rush to your cheeks and twist your heart.
"Come here," Seungcheol said, opening his strong arms and pulling you in a comforting hug.
It wasn't a friendly hug, the purpose of it was to try and calm down your anxieties, to make you realize that he wanted to be more serious with you.
You stiffened under his embrace at first, but quickly wrapped your arms around his torso and rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his manly scent, the cologne in his clothes.
The warmth feeling invaded you again when you felt his heartbeat against your own chest, when he appeared to be pressing his lips slowly on the crown of your head. Oh my god, you thought over and over.
When you felt like the hug had went over for minutes, you peeled off his body slowly and reluctantly, but suddenly stopped short
"Oh–," you gasped.
"What–," he muttered and looked down.
Your gold necklace had tangled in one of the buttons of his polo shirt, making you giggle shyly and brought a hand up to attempt to untangle the mess.
Seungcheol seized your hand, your eyes snapping to his nervously as his other hand came to cup your chin gingerly. Your eyes read his face, widening slightly when you saw it in his gaze—he wanted to kiss you.
His half-lidded puppy eyes swam over the features of your face, on your eyes, your lips and then back up. And you wondered what the look on your face might have been, because it made him smile softly.
You, in turn, looked flustered. And Seungcheol knew that you wanted this because your lips had parted in desire, your breath hitched at his touch. And your eyes, so telling of your own intentions.
Slowly, Seungcheol dipped his head to meet your lips with his own, keeping his hand on your chin to keep you in place. You swallowed hard the second you felt his wet lips on yours, pressing tenderly once, twice, until they locked slowly, moving against each other seamlessly.
Your eyes had fluttered close, as you let the man you've been crushing for months dominate the kiss, and that he did gingerly, almost lovingly. The hand that had seized yours slowly pressed his palm against your own, and you took the liberty to lace your fingers with his.
When the kiss ended he parted to look at your pretty eyes, moving the hand from your chin to brush the softness of your cheek and you leaned in to his touch, almost instinctively.
"Seungcheol," you muttered then, "Cheol, I have something to tell you."
You pressed your hand against the one that was cupping your cheek. And Seungcheol pushed his eyebrows up slightly, encouraging you to speak.
"I don't know how much you know about me, about my family, but it has scared some people off my life before and... I don't want that to be you," you muttered with a tinge of nervousness quivering your tone.
"I'm not going anywhere," he reassured, leaning to press a kiss to your forehead. "Don't think that for a second."
That was the start to your relationship with Choi Seungcheol.
And for all his plans of taking it slow, you both sure flew into first, second, third base pretty fast. Seungcheol was careful with you every step of the way, but sometimes he found you so hard to resist.
And it didn't help that your sex drive was just as high as his, or even higher.
The making out session had started innocently. Seungcheol had driven almost aimlessly out of the city until he found a perfect spot to park in a secluded area.
By this point, you were a month into dating. So you were pretty much still new to all things relating to intimacy. But at the same time, you were so eager for more. To go past brief touches and short make out sessions.
But there was something different about you tonight. Maybe it was that you were far from the city and the car was practically hidden from view and upcoming cars, deep into some trail in the woods.
Maybe it was that you thought he looked extra hot that night. Wearing a tight black long sleeve t-shirt. But you found Seungcheol hot, no matter what he did or wore.
You were pressed against the steering wheel of the car, straddling him in a very lewd manner. You've never gone this far, but it was exciting, it was taunting.
"Baby," he muttered against your lips, one of his hands was cupping your face while the other was kneading anxiously at the curve of your waist.
"Mm?" you hummed softly in his mouth, not wanting to pull away, you felt as though you were unable to.
"Is this okay?" he asked with a strangled tone. It had been some minutes since either of you had spoken. He cleared his throat and added: "We're not going too far?"
You had never gotten this close to anyone before. Your heart was beating so hard against your chest that you could feel your pulse at your throat.
"This is okay," you breathed, capturing his lower lip between yours and he groaned. "I want this."
"Want what?" he moved a hand from the side of your face to your lower back, eliciting a small moan from you. "Fuck," he breathed when he heard you.
"I want you," you whispered, pressing your lips on his jawline, then down his neck, daring to lick his skin.
His fingers clenched on your flesh, over your clothes and hissed loudly. "Baby, don't do that," he groaned.
"Don't like it?" you asked and finally peeled off him.
The look on your face was something Seungcheol couldn't get enough of. You looked flustered, hot and horny. Your lips were swollen from all the kissing, and the steamy conditions from the inside of the car made your skin dewy, making your hair stick to your neck.
"I do, I like it," he chuckled, feeling embarrassed. "I like it too much."
Your features took on a bolder look. "How much?" you asked with a playful tone, smiling a bit.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes at your playful question, feeling like he might explode soon.
But he only took your hand and guided it to the huge bulge pressing against his jeans, wordlessly telling you just how much he was driven insane by you.
It was a bold move, he knew it. Your eyes widened and a shudder invaded you, along with that warmth that begged you to move farther, to get more from this interaction.
You swallowed thickly. "You're..." you trailed off.
Seungcheol mimicked you and swallowed hard too. He removed your hand from his hard crotch and kissed your knuckles.
"Do you want to... do something about it?" you asked shyly and smiled to yourself.
"Like what?" he asked, now being playful with you.
"Do you want me to touch you?" you asked with a tiny voice, your shifty eyes averting from his.
"No," he replied, drawing your eyes back at him with a question written in them. "I don't want you to do that now, baby."
"Doesn't it... hurt?" you asked meekly and turned your gaze yet again from him.
Seungcheol smiled. "Not right now, but it will later," he replied simply, shrugging as if this wasn't the first time he's gotten blue-balled by you.
"Why does it sound like it's normal for you?" you caught right on, an eyebrow jumping up.
He pinched your chin with his index and thumb. "You drive me crazy, baby. You always leave me a little needy," he explained, but then realizing how he sounded, he added: "But it's okay, I'm not pressuring you to do anything you don't want to do."
"But I want to, Cheol," you repositioned yourself on his lap, scooting your crotch closer to his.
That made his hands snap to your hips, just when he felt a little bit of friction on his hard and clothed cock.
He stifled a moan. "What do you want, baby?"
You swore you went a little crazy every time he called you that. You bit your lip, looking at his big and dark eyes.
His hand cupped your chin again, motioning you closer so that he could kiss you on your lips.
"Mm? What do you want?" he egged you on, his voice low and pouring into your ears.
"Take me," you whispered between kisses.
A groan bubbled in his chest and deepened the kiss by swiping a line with the tip of his tongue on your lower lip. You moaned softly in his mouth too, and the sound might have sent him into a frenzy too.
"No," he groaned with a low guttural tone.
"Please?" you asked before he could even explain himself.
"Not here, baby," he started and pressed his body back on his seat, thus parting away from your lips. "You're not having your first time in my brother's car."
You blinked, looking a bit startled and searched his eyes.
"Don't you want to have your first time in a bed?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting at his question.
That seemed to cool you down from your frenzy moment and appeared to be considering it.
You nodded quietly. "With you," you replied with a certain tone of plea.
He blinked slowly, realizing that you had thought he was rejecting your advances. "Of course, baby," he replied with a warm smile.
You pressed your lips in a cute pout, and then you hit him with puppy eyes. "Can we... continue where we left off?"
"What do you want?" he asked again, his hands parked on your hips.
You fidgeted with the collar of his black t-shirt, shyly glancing at his eyes, then back to your hands. "Can you touch me?"
Seungcheol pressed his hands on the curve of your waist and nodded. "Where, baby?"
Your breath hitched audibly but neither of you made note about it. Borrowing a page from his book, you took his hands from your waist, and guided them to your breasts, indicating where you wanted his hands.
Your blood rushed to your face in utter embarrassment from how wet you felt already, your panties were pooling with your arousal and the second you motioned his hands on your breasts, over your clothes, you swallowed back a moan.
Seungcheol applied pressure to your tits, kneading at them softly, over the fabric of your blouse and bra. You knew that wasn't enough, you needed to feel him directly.
You dropped your forehead on his and breathed out your nervousness. "God, I'm so wet," you whispered and let out an embarrassed laugh.
Seungcheol groaned louder this time and closed his eyes fiercely. His hands flew from your tits and pressed you down on his cock by your hips.
"Fuck," he breathed, anxiously tightening his grip on your sides. "Can I feel you?"
You nodded desperately. "Yes, please?" you sighed a moan.
His hand sneaked beneath your skirt, realizing that you might've come prepared for this because you were also wearing a lace thong, as soon he would discover when the pads of his fingers grazed your clothed pussy.
"Baby," he called, making you pull back and lock eyes with him. "You can stop me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"
You nodded and bit your lip in anticipation, looking down where his hand had disappeared beneath your skirt.
But a hand grabbed your chin gently to lift your gaze back at his. "I need to hear it."
"Okay," you replied.
He then searched for the hem of your thong and moved it aside to uncover your cunt to his fingers, where he ran the pads of his fingers, shuddering slightly when he felt the softness covered with your arousal.
"So wet," he whispered and swallowed back a groan. "You're dripping, baby."
You nodded and bit back a moan when his fingers exploring your cunt found your clit almost effortlessly.
"There?" he asked and you nodded. "Tell me how you're feeling."
"Good," you breathed immediately when the pads of his middle fingers rubbed your clit back and forth, pressing on the nub just the right amount to make you moan.
"You sound so sweet," he mumbled almost entrancingly, enjoying the look on your face when your eyelids fluttered shut and your lips parted a little, allowing a sigh to escape between them.
Your hands slid from his shoulders down to his chest and you leaned back on the steering wheel to give him ample space to continue pleasuring you.
Seungcheol put his free hand to use by hiking your skirt up, uncovering your lush thighs to his view. Under the weak moonlight, he could also see your pretty cunt, and he pushed your panties aside further so he could see just how wet you were.
"God, baby," he looked up, his darkened eyes finding yours. "You're perfect."
You were still biting your lip, unable to make a coherent response because his touch was nearly driving you crazy.
Seungcheol threw you a cautious glance, before dipping one finger inside your entrance, his mouth parted at the same time yours did.
"Cheol," you mewled when his finger slid in completely exploring your warm and wet walls.
"Is that okay?" he asked, dragging his finger out to then push it back in.
You nodded and then replied. "Yeah, okay," you babbled.
"More?" he asked, but it sounded like he was testing you.
"Yes, yes more, please," you whimpered desperately trying to get more so you could finally get the pleasure you seeked.
Seungcheol pushed another digit in, feeling your walls contract and that made him gasp. But wasted no time and started exploring your gummy walls, every ridge, every slippery fold.
You held onto one of his buff biceps, your fingers digging on his muscle quite harshly but not enough to hurt him.
"Relax, baby," he whispered. But there was no denying that he was loving every second of you getting off by just a couple of fingers. And not only that, him being the first to be doing this was also giving him a rush.
"It feels good," you gasped and looked at his eyes.
"Yeah? Do you like it if I do this?" he asked before curling his fingers inside you, the pointy tips of his fingers pressing on your walls in a very sensitive spot.
"God! Yes, that feels good," you gasped, your hips buckled on top of him just as he started to move his hand repeatedly, teasing that glorious spot inside you.
"Like that?" he asked with a strangled tone, feeling like he might come in his pants from just seeing you and feeling you with his fingers.
"Yes, yes, yes," you whimpered. "Don't stop—please? Please, Cheol, it feels so good."
Seungcheol felt the corner of his mouth twitch up in a smirk. "I'm not stopping, baby," he replied.
Your breath had started to hitch and the hand holding onto his bicep clenched hard and then went lax. You were close, but it was quite difficult to get to your much desperately needed release.
"Do you want to rub your clit?" Seungcheol asked when he noticed and you nodded. "Show me how you do it, baby," he instructed, not stopping his hand on your cunt, but only moving it to give more access to your fingers.
You lifted your hips a little, giving him the full view to your cunt as you reached your clit with your fingers and started rubbing. You mewled instantly at the motion of both your fingers and his inside you, making you cry out in pleasure.
"Are you close, angel?" he asked, when he saw the features of your face relax, moaning sweetly and looking almost angelical.
"Yeah," you gasped, a rush of bliss taking over you when he used that new nickname on you. "Mm so close," you moaned.
"God, you look so good like this," he whispered in complete awe.
"Cheol," you mewled. "I'm there, god, g–ah," your eyebrows knitted and your mouth opened, breathing in sharply as you came hard on his fingers, the orgasm was nearly mind-numbing, not only from how good it felt, but from how long you had been aching for this.
"So good, so good," you whimpered over and over as you came, eyes closed, enjoying every second of it.
Seungcheol also enjoyed the look on your face, the sounds you made, how tightly you squeezed his fingers with your warm walls.
By the end of your orgasm, you were panting, thighs trembling a little, and you leaned forward a little to get some support. Seungcheol used his free hand to cup your cheek, motioning you over to his lips.
You kissed him softly, still breathing erratically.
"You did so good, baby," he whispered on your lips. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you frowned. "Perfect, actually."
Seungcheol laughed and pressed his lips on your forehead.
You shuddered slightly when he pulled out his fingers from your walls and brought his hand up to his mouth to lick your arousal from his fingers, looking at your eyes as he got his first taste of you.
"Seu—Cheol? What are you doing?" you sounded alarmed as you watched him groan in approval and as if he were testing you, he pulled you for a kiss.
You tasted yourself in his tongue, the act so lewd that it had you whimpering again.
"You're so perfect baby," he muttered with a low tone.
He fixed your panties back in place and then your skirt, his fascinated eyes reveling at the sight of you on top of him.
You looked around for the first time in what seemed like hours, and realized that the windows had become obscured with a light layer of condensation.
The sight made you smile a little—it seemed just like in movies. And you were so, so in love with Seungcheol. It seemed fast, but you were also young and so willing to discover things about yourself at his side that time seemed to be unimportant to you.
You brought up a finger and started scribbling on the window of the car.
"I love you," your little message read.
Seungcheol felt something so strong in his chest that it almost robbed him of air. You shyly looked back at him, expecting a response, reading his face for any signs of rejection.
"I love you too," he answered vocally, cupping your face with his hands to kiss you passionately.
Some weeks later, after more taunting each other with heavy make out sessions. You found yourself pressed against the mattress of his twin bed. Nearly naked, only your matching bra and thong were covering your body.
Seungcheol had wished for an opportunity like this. Somehow he was struck by a miracle when his parents told him they would be out of town, so he knew that was his chance to prompt this proposition to you.
Which, of course, you agreed to.
Seungcheol was bare from the waist up, his body hovering on top of you as he slowly worshiped your body, both with kisses and with his sweet words.
You were nervous, utterly embarrassed as you pressed your thighs together, your breathing had turned erratic, pathetically loud to your ears as you watched your boyfriend kneel on the bed before your body.
"Spread your legs for me, baby," he instructed with a soft tone, running a hand on your knee, caressing your bare skin.
You pushed your knees up and parted your thighs slowly for him to slot his body between them. And before he could press his chest to yours, you snaked a hand beneath you to unclasp your bra and removed the straps swiftly.
"Slow down," he chuckled and leaned down to press his lips against yours. "We have time, don't worry."
"I'm nervous," you admitted with a sigh.
"I know," he replied and smiled sweetly at you. "I'm nervous too," he confessed but he didn't look nearly as nervous as you.
Though he was.
"But you've done this before," you countered, blinking at him confusedly.
"It's the first time I do it with you, angel," he replied, pressing his lips on your face, then littering your throat with more kisses.
"I want you to like it," you muttered with a tiny voice.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, breaking away from your neck to look at your eyes. "Baby, I'm going to like it no matter what. Relax, I got you."
Seungcheol waited until you gave him a nod with your head and continued loving your skin with his lips. You tried to ease your head into his pillows and you tried to do the same with your limbs, relaxing into the duvet of his twin bed, which you noticed, smelled like his clothes usually do.
"Don't worry about me," he muttered into your ear, making you shudder slightly. "I want you to focus on what you're feeling. Tell me what you like and what you don't, okay?"
"Okay," you whispered.
"You can close your eyes if you want to," he offered before pressing his lips on your cheek.
You decided to keep looking at Seungcheol as he moved your bra aside with delicate fingers, uncovering your breasts to his eyes and he let out a soft sigh that landed on your skin, making it prickle.
You suppressed a sigh, your hands instantly reaching out to hold onto his shoulders and neck when he pressed his lips against your chest, just above your heart, smirking to himself when he heard you swallow back a whimper.
You flinched quite dramatically when his mouth reached down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, loving the taste of your skin, the smell of your perfume with a pleased groan.
Your hand traveled up from his neck and toyed anxiously at the short hair on the back of his head as he moved to kiss and lick your other nipple.
"Baby," he reminded you gently.
"Good," you croaked. "That feels good."
"Do you want to undress me?" he asked, pulling back to his knees on his bed.
You nodded and sat up, getting his belt and undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. He stood up from the bed and you sloppily undressed him, chuckling embarrassedly at yourself throughout the process.
You looked up at the growing bulge beneath his black boxers and instinctively reached for the elastic band and pulled the last piece of clothing on his body.
You bit your lip harder than before when you saw your boyfriend wholly naked and standing in front of you. He was fully hard for you already, the pinkish red tip of his cock was glistening with precum at his slit.
All the times you imagined him naked weren't compared to the real beauty Seungcheol was. Your eyes roamed from his broad shoulders, his lean chest, to the soft hairs trailing down from his belly button and joining his pubic hair.
Seungcheol was big, but you had figured that out already. But seeing him fully bare was something else. He enjoyed the look in your eyes when you couldn't help but to reach out and touch his milky white skin.
The muscles of his abdomen tightened slightly when you ran your fingertips over the soft lines marking it and down his meaty thighs. Darting a look up at him, you trailed a fingertip down the shaft of his cock, his breath hitching slightly at the feeling. You gingerly ran the pad of your finger over the soft ridges below his cockhead and swallowed thickly.
Seungcheol moved decisively towards you, pressing a knee on the bed then the other, making you crawl backwards on the bed and lie back down on his pillows.
His fingers hooked on the band of your lace thong you bought solely for the occasion and slid them down your legs slowly and you lifted your feet from the mattress for him to get rid of the thong and finally have you completely bare and exposed to him.
"You're so, so beautiful, baby," he said with a sigh, his big expressive eyes marveling at your figure on his bed.
"Thank you, Cheol," you whispered bashfully.
You averted your gaze when he dipped his head and started grazing kisses along your tummy and tried to focus on the sensations, your skin prickling, heating up, the arousal shooting like a bolt of lightning inside you with each kiss.
The blinds on Seungcheol's room were slightly parted, blowing in with the wind that filtered through the open window. It was a quiet, windy night, and the soft glow of the moonlight gave you the opportunity to explore his bedroom with your eyes.
Until his lips reached below your belly button, making you jolt slightly under him.
"Your skin smells so sweet," he pointed with a low hum and raised his head to show you a smile. "Did you do that on purpose?"
You nodded. "It's raspberry lotion," you explained meekly.
Seungcheol smiled, circling a hand on your hip and slid down your skin and pressed his lips on the inner side of your thigh, making you jump slightly again.
"Easy," he breathed, littering your skin with more kisses as if wanting you to get accustomed to the feeling.
"That feels good," you slurred, closing your eyes when a shudder ran from your legs to your face.
Then he pressed his tongue on your inner thigh, really close to your pussy.
"God," you gasped, opening your eyes wide and propped your weight on your elbows.
"Tell me if it's too much," he mumbled, trailing more open mouthed kisses until his lips reached your mound.
Your breath hitched and nodded. "Okay," you whispered, reaching out to graze his scalp with the pads of your fingers, eliciting a low groan from the man who was between your legs, the first person to ever be this intimate with you.
"Oh my god," you breathed when he gently and so, so slowly pushed his tongue between your pussy lips, parting your slippery folds with a generous stroke with his tongue.
His hands came to angle your thighs open for him when your first instinct was to try and close them. He pressed his mouth to your cunt, licking your arousal from your entrance with a groan that you felt on your soft flesh.
"Cheol, babe," you gasped, watching him ravage your cunt slowly, making the most loud wet sounds when his pointed tongue glided between your folds and swirled around your clit.
"Babe, don't stop," you whimpered, your hips buckling against his face when his tongue started flicking your swollen bud. He blinked and raised his eyes to find yours.
And he didn't stop, not to speak, not to rest and even though his mouth was starting to feel tired, he was determined to make you come first like this.
"God—Cheol," you mewled, feeling a tingling wave rushing through your body, intensifying by the second. "Babe, I'm there, 'm–"
You sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering violently on his bed as your orgasm flooded your body in hot waves. Overwhelming sensations invaded you as you cried out, your voice sounding raw and lewd. You felt it everywhere, not just between your thighs.
He pressed his lips on your clit and on your mound as he removed his hands from your thighs, using them to support his body by placing them at your sides.
"Good?" he muttered as he lowered the lower half of his body between your legs, without pressing his full weight on you.
His lips looked slick and swollen, and when you reached out to capture them with yours, you tasted your arousal on his tongue, making you moan at how lewd the act felt.
"Great," you breathed.
Your eyes had a post-sex glaze look on them, still breathing heavy, you looked heavenly this way. And Seungcheol loved that he was the reason why you looked like that.
"God, you're so beautiful, baby," he whispered, pressing his lips on yours between each word.
"Cheol?" you whispered, dragging his gaze back to yours.
"Mm?"
"I want you now," you mumbled with a sweet tone.
Seungcheol read your eyes briefly, looking for any signs of uncertainty, before he leaned his weight on one forearm at your side, his free hand grabbed his fully hard cock and guided it to your core.
You sucked in a breath again, when Seungcheol glided his cockhead down your wet folds with a low groan before nuzzling at your entrance.
Then he slowly eased himself into you, the fiery discomfort at your entrance was immediate, making your muscles contract and the scrunch on your face made him pause.
"Talk to me baby," he instructed softly.
"I'm okay," you breathed. "Keep going, please, Cheol."
He mouthed a 'okay' and pushed inside you slowly, his hand came up to cup your cheek to hold your gaze, your eyebrows knitted and your mouth parted, and he felt himself mimic your expression as he sheathed himself completely inside your warm, fluttery walls.
Seungcheol watched your beautiful features as he dragged his cock out and pushed in again, slowly, making your walls ease around him, adjusting to his size, letting him fuck you slowly.
Small moans spilled from your lips as the discomfort dissipated and soon turned into a warm, sweet pleasure, making your eyes flutter close and sigh blissfully.
Each drag of his cock in and out of you felt deliriously good. Seungcheol was slowly driving himself mad with your moans, with the feeling of your warm throbbing walls around him, taking him so good he was sure that you were made for him only.
It also made him a little crazy to think that it was your first time feeling something like this, to have him claiming you before anyone else. He shuddered and dropped his head on the crook of your neck, failing to control himself.
"I need to put a condom on, baby," he groaned against you, lifting his head to look at you.
"No, please. Just a little bit longer?" you immediately whined.
"I might not last long," he admitted shyly. "You feel so fucking good."
"You-you feel good too," you blurted.
Your arms were encircling him by his shoulders, your wrists locked behind his nape. You hummed a sigh when his hips pressed against you, driving his cockhead into a spot that felt just too good. Your walls clenched and he immediately pulled out with a low groan.
"I'm putting it on," he murmured, kissing you chastely before pulling his body up and reaching for a condom on his nightstand. He opened it with his experienced fingers and slid the condom down to his hilt.
Seungcheol slid inside you again, the contact of the latex inside you created a noise when he started delivering precise thrusts against you again. Undeniable, it felt different with protection, but it still felt good.
So good in fact that when his thrusts picked up pace, you moaned against the crook of his neck, the feeling of being so close, open and vulnerable with him so intense that you were sure you were losing what little sanity you had left.
"I love you," you breathed against his lips.
Seungcheol stifled a moan and his hand cupped your cheek again. "I love you too baby," he responded, lips grazing against yours.
He came not a second after you with soft moans and calling your name as he pressed his hips sloppily against you until he was rendered breathless on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he blinked back to reality.
Seungcheol was in love.
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Time flew by and soon it was your first anniversary with him. Still in love, still making puppy eyes at each other. Your relationship moved almost seamlessly without any issues.
You both loved spending time together, whether it was going out together or just chilling at home. Seungcheol had moved out of his parents house and started renting a small one bedroom apartment. Freshly graduated, he wasted no time and started working, which was something he was aching to do.
There were little disagreements, but you always found a way to talk and work things out. It was like you were a team, facing every single challenge together.
On your anniversary, Seungcheol prepared a dinner to celebrate the year you had spent together. He placed candles on the table and seemed nervous before he led you inside his tiny apartment, covering your eyes with his hands, chuckling all the way as you stretched your arms out in case you stumbled and fell.
"Ready?" he mumbled in your ear.
"Ready," you replied and he uncovered your eyes.
There was a flower bouquet on a vase sitting on top of the table, which you noticed were your favorite flowers.
"This is beautiful, Cheol," you started and turned around to face him.
Only to find him on one knee, a small blue velvet box in his hand. The glint in his puppy eyes as he looked up at you with such adoring eyes as your heart clenched.
"No, stop!" you whined. "You're joking," you laughed as your eyes brimmed with tears that spilled onto your cheeks when he laughed with you when you told on his prank.
He opened the box, revealing his gift to you, which was a pretty dainty gold necklace with a heart locket.
"Happy anniversary," he said with his goofy laugh and rose just as you cupped his cheeks to kiss him lovingly.
The laughter and the sparkle in your eyes made it an unforgettable night for him.
A memory he would cherish for a long time.
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second year
It was your twenty second birthday.
And soon it will be your second anniversary with Seungcheol. And it seemed hard to believe how fast time had passed you by, and how fast Seungcheol became the center of your whole world.
He was your partner through a world of self-discovery. Did you want to try new kinks? He was all in. Did you want to try weed or shrooms for the first time? He'd take care of you—or do it together in a safe space.
You had so much fun together that he wasn't only the love of your life, he was your best friend. And you were still so in love with him, it seemed like a dream, almost.
As the second anniversary rolled around, Seungcheol made it a little tradition to get on one knee to present you with jewelry. The second time he did it, your heart jumped again but you knew what his plan was, which was to get that joyful look on your face.
This time, you knew that if he presented you with a ring, you would've said yes.
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third year
Choi Seungcheol is a strategist to his core.
At least, that's what a lot of people say about him. He doesn't like to think too much of himself, but sometimes, when he pays attention to what the people around him say, they say things akin to him being thoughtful, always scheming, always analyzing.
Seungcheol was a hundred percent sure about you. From the first anniversary together, he started planning the day he would get down on one knee and ask you to marry him seriously.
At this point you had been together for three years, and not one single day he doubted himself with you. There were some setbacks, money being one of them, but he could manage. The only problem was dealing with your overbearing parents.
Steal princess from the castle, that was the name of his little plan.
In fact, as your twenty fourth birthday drew near, he thought of the way he would carry out this plan. One day, when you were away with your parents' for a whole weekend, he knew this was his chance.
He pressed the phone to his ear and waited for the line to be picked up. Chewing on his lower lip, sitting on his sofa with one leg crossed.
"Hi mom," he smiled when he heard his mother's voice greet him. Then he started picking on the hem of his clothes with his free hand as he said. "I need your help with something."
"Are you alright, baby?" his mother queried immediately.
Seungcheol noticed how nervous he sounded, added to his sudden ask for help and put in quickly. "Oh! Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine mom. Don't worry," he chuckled awkwardly. "I was thinking of picking you up later this evening for coffee and... I want you to help me choose a ring."
Silently, Seungcheol looked at the ceiling.
"An engagement ring?" his mother asked, a tinge of emotion twisting her words.
"Yes, mom," he breathed in. "I'm proposing," he nodded and gulped hard, trying to swallow down the emotions that coiled in his throat.
His mother didn't need to ask if he was sure, or if it was too soon. Because everyone knew how much he loved you.
Everyone knew you were end game.
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fourth year
Every relationship has its ups and downs. But everything with Seungcheol seemed to be so good that it made you think that saying was just a fabricated thing to persuade people to stay in their relationships.
That was until you got in for a master's degree in a prestigious university abroad. It was a really big thing for you, a dream come true, really. But sadly you didn't get the necessary support to accept the offer.
Of course you wouldn't get the funding. Your family name was related to wealth, so why should anyone give you the funding when you could afford it yourself?
However, your parents stepped in, offering their help to you under one condition. Their condition was that you had to break up your relationship with Seungcheol, and once you finished your master's degree you'd have to marry someone they approve of. They'd cover all the expenses, the tuition, everything.
You just had to break up with your boyfriend. Marry someone worthy of you. They said,
You declined.
"What happened, baby?" Seungcheol had spent the past hour holding you as you cried and sobbed uncontrollably in his shoulder.
You had tried to tell him what had happened, but every time you opened your mouth a sob would have you breaking down in tears all over again.
"Baby, you're scaring me," he warned for the nth time, but he waited patiently for you, he rocked your body in his arm gently and kneaded your back with his hands attempting to soothe you.
The two of you were standing on the sidewalk outside the building where you lived with your family. Seungcheol had waited so long for you to speak that he was now leaning against his old car.
When he saw your figure hurriedly come out of the building, he supposed that you probably were running to him thinking you were late; however as soon as he saw your crushed face he immediately got out of his car to hold you, knowing that you were about to break down in tears.
He initially assumed the worst, his mind went to any possible scenario that could have you in such a state, and he voiced his concerns while rubbing your back.
"Has someone passed away? Is someone sick?"
Or perhaps,
"You've been cut off again?"
Maybe, maybe,
"Are you pregnant, baby? Is that it?"
The last two were issues he knew he could help you figure out.
He'd done it before, once your mom got sick of threatening you with cutting you off the will and allowances, she kicked you out of her house. Seungcheol would let you crash in his apartment, whenever you needed it. And he'd secretly wanted you to move in.
And if in one in a million chance he got you pregnant, well... He was all in with you. Whatever you decided, he was all in.
"I g-got accepted," you sobbed, but most of your words got muffled in the crook of his neck.
"What was that?" he asked softly and you sensed him lowering his face to look at your head in his shoulder.
"I got accepted," you told him more clearly, swallowing your sobs.
"Baby, that's great. That's your top choice, right?," his soft voice was a bit closer now. "Why are you crying?"
Seungcheol was well aware of all the post-graduate applications you did the previous year, and you had some letters of acceptance but you were waiting for the letter of acceptance and it had finally arrived.
He didn't really care if you went to another country; he wanted you to fulfill your dreams. He could wait for you, that was the initial plan, to wait for you while you achieved your milestone abroad.
"I didn't get the funding," you replied. "I didn't get it for any of the applications."
Oh. Seungcheol knew that you needed the funding, otherwise you were pretty much at a loss. Even though you had many other options, it would be really hard for you if you wanted to break away from your family's nasty hooks once and for all.
"And my mom told me they can give me all the funding, everything," you continued, now speaking fast as if you wanted to get the words out before breaking in tears again. "But they'll do it only if I break up with you and marry someone else when I get the degree. They weren't even pleased that I got accepted, it's like they were planning this."
Seungcheol just listened, but he couldn't help but feel a mixture of rage and anguish at what he was witnessing. How could they do that to you? You were their daughter, why would they try to sabotage you at any chance they had?
He knew your parents didn't hate him. Hate was earned. He just wasn't what they thought was 'good enough' for you. They were just waiting for what they called your 'little fling' to end, hoping that you would move on to what they considered a more serious relationship with someone they thought was more 'suitable'.
And by that they meant, filthy rich.
Granted, Seungcheol didn't make one small fraction of the money your parents made, probably never will. But he took care of you, he loved you. Wasn't that enough?
But he couldn't give you what your parents were offering. He knew that. He wasn't ready for that.
"You should accept," he said suddenly, he even felt like he was betraying himself.
You stiffened, finally looking up from his shoulder. "W-what?" you sniffed. "Cheol, are you listening? We'd have to split-"
"Not really," he muttered, seeing you so broken made him want to cry too. "We can still be together. Your parents don't have to know."
You smiled bitterly through your tears. "I'd be married off to someone else, and then what? They told me they already talked with some other family. They can arrange a marriage 'cause they're crazy like that."
Seungcheol knew just how crazy your family was. They were the kind of family that would whip out a binding contract on you if you agreed to marry someone else. They made the kind of money to hire a PI to follow you around because they didn't actually know who their daughter was.
Your parents didn't like what they found, obviously. And they could pretty much pinpoint the exact moment in your life when you started to feel more free. Such things they mostly thought were 'acts of rebellion'. And Seungcheol was your partner in crime.
He nodded and looked heavenward. "I can't give you what they can. I just don't make the money."
"I'm not saying that, babe. Besides, I already declined my mom's offer," you mumbled through your tears and whiny sobs. "I'm not breaking up with you."
"So you're not following your dream because of how I'd feel?" he looked at you again. "Baby, this is not what I want for you. You know that."
Studying abroad has been your dream since you could remember. You made it your whole life besides being with Seungcheol, if there was anything you could ever do for your whole life, it'd be reading, writing. You were always buried in books.
He cupped your flushed face in his hands. "This is your future. This is yours long before I was. I can't be the reason why you don't follow through. I just can't."
Your eyes met his and knew he was being dead serious.
"I won't break up with you. That's my final decision."
He sighed, but not out of relief. He hated arguing with you. Having arguments with you happened rarely, but you were just as stubborn as he was—perhaps even more so, and often pushed arguments for hours until he was the one who eventually gave in.
"Can we at least consider what I'm saying?" he proposed in a gentle tone, trying to convince you.
"I'm not keeping us a secret either!" you countered. "That's crazy, Seungcheol. Are you serious?!"
He visibly flinched when he heard you call him by his full name. "It's not crazy, it's a possibility, a plan."
You inhaled deeply, feeling the chill in the air as your fingers brushed his dark hair. He recently had it trimmed short on the sides, so he looked boyish and younger, even. He looked just like when you met him.
You loved him. Your love for him wouldn't be kept a secret.
"We'll think of something else," that was your final say about it.
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It is true that Seungcheol had grown a bit disdainful of himself ever since your parents had let on their thoughts of him. You didn't have to tell him anything directly, he could sense it. The cold shoulder, the glares, the offhanded comments.
They didn't have to be straightforward with him. Seungcheol also noticed it in the way your parents treated you; the constant threats, warnings, always cutting you off, the blackmail.
It was easy, from the minute he witnessed your parents talk down to you he knew he would never like them.
Well, the feeling was mutual.
That grew into dark thoughts in his mind, a sneaky internal voice that would feed into his insecurities, every dark thought inside him and these would get stronger each time he doubted himself with you.
Not feeling enough can be suffocating.
"Babe, you split your lip," you told him, offering him a tissue he could wipe the blood that was now mixing with his drool on his lips.
He had been biting off the skin of his lips. He did that absentmindedly as his thoughts took him to a dark path.
"Thanks," he muttered.
The tissue broke in his lip and stuck to the slit in his lower lip but he didn't seem to notice. That made you smile softly and reach for him to remove the bit of tissue from his broken lip with your fingers.
"Here," you whispered, and noticed Seungcheol's big dark eyes lost on your face.
He had been doing this for weeks now. Losing focus every now and then, he'd lose sleep and forget things. He did these things whenever he needed to say something but didn't know just how to get there, he always needed some prompting from you.
But you just couldn't bring yourself to initiate this time.
It was almost a month ago that you told him the news about the offer for you to study abroad. And about the offer your parents had made. You declined your mom's offer, but ever since then, Seungcheol had been acting off.
Your hand rested on his cheek, and he closed his eyes briefly to kiss your palm with his bloody lip.
"I love you," he mouthed, almost as if he couldn't bring his voice to enact itself.
"I love you too, babe," you replied, seeing his face contorted in pain and frustration was eating you up on the inside.
You had taken a job as a teacher's assistant at a school near Seungcheol's apartment. It was so near that you always visited his apartment after you were done with your shift.
So you practically lived with him in his one bedroom apartment. You had a bunch of clothes stored in the closet of his bedroom, a toothbrush, the books piling up in a corner were yours too. You occupied a large chunk of the desk with your computer, piles of papers from your job and pink headset sitting next to his.
The reason why you had taken up the teaching job was to start making some money for yourself, and possibly to make Seungcheol see that you could manage without the help from your parents, maybe then he'd ask you to move in with him.
Why hasn't Seungcheol just asked to move in with him? You hadn't asked him, but it would probably have something to do with your parents.
You knew he felt a certain kind of insecurity when it came to the lavish lifestyle your parents raised you with. But you couldn't care less in reality. You had him, that was all you needed.
So now your focus was that, your job and Seungcheol. You tried to forget about your MA acceptance letters. When you got the final letter of acceptance from all the applications you made, you were aware that you had a limited timespan to return one letter in agreement, but you haven't made a reply yet.
Seungcheol knew that, he was also well aware that you had only a few weeks to make your final choice and it was driving him crazy that you haven't made one.
It was like he was the one deciding on your future and he hated it.
He hated when your parents wanted to puppeteer everything in your life, they made choices for you most of the time and he hated watching that.
So now that you were choosing him over the biggest opportunity of your life, it killed him.
"Babe, stop thinking about it," you muttered, your heart palpitating hard at the mention of 'it'.
He blinked slowly and found your face, his brow furrowing slightly. "I can't."
"We have tonight," you smiled softly at him. "We can take our minds off for now, can you do that?"
He pressed your hand against his cheek briefly before grabbing it to lock your fingers with his.
"I will but only if you do something for me," he smiled slowly–a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
You knew that look. It was the look of someone desperately trying to feel something other than worry and finally coming face to face with their remedy.
You pushed your eyebrows up, and you knew what was coming. "No."
"Please baby, for me?" his eyebrows knitted and his bloody lip hung out in a cute little pout.
"I am not doing it!" you yanked your hand from his and stood from the couch of the living room of his apartment.
"Baby, you love it, every time!" he laughed as you walked off to his bedroom to get ready for the friendly reunion he was hosting that night.
"You are such a child, Cheol!" you bit back, rolling your eyes.
He was soon delivering kisses on your nape, hugging you from behind. "Please, baby. Please, you don't have to do anything, just sit."
"I'm not sitting on your face," you snorted as you sorted the clothes that you had brought to his apartment over months ago.
"Mmm baby, you didn't seem to hate it this much last time," he said, kissing the crook of your neck. "In fact, you sounded like you loved it."
"It was hard to relax," you confessed, your hands slacking on your sides when you felt his lips touch that spot on your neck. "I kept thinking that I was suffocating you."
"Angel, you know if that happens I'd die happy," he giggled. "Please? Before we go."
That was also something he'd been doing: drowning his worries with sex. So suffice to say, he's been fucking you almost everyday, at any chance he can get.
"We're late already babe," you muttered, his lips kissing your shoulder, ignoring the strap of your tank top.
"Jeonghan can manage if we're late, don't worry," he mumbled, while his hands dipped beneath your tank top, pulling it up to caress your skin at your waist.
When you made no reply, because you were too busy thinking that he'd been fucking you a lot these days, probably to quiet the voices in his head—you heard him sigh softly, and you turned your head to see him smile.
"We can do something else if you want to," he suggested in a soft tone.
"We're going to be late," you repeated but as soon as his hand slid from your waist and under your panties, you knew it was game over.
You dropped your head back on his shoulder when his fingers dipped on your sopping core. You heard him smile, and your head was now angled back so his lips found more skin on your neck he hadn't kissed.
"But you're so wet baby. You're dripping on my fingers. You planned to arrive at the party with your pussy all wet? What then?"
"I'd just wait for you to drag me to any corner where you can fuck me in," you replied, knowing that would elicit a chuckle out of him.
"Mm, but maybe I've spoiled you too much—giving you my cock whenever you want it, letting you come when you want to," his voice was low, like honey pouring onto your ear.
You shuddered against his body when his fingers circled your clit expertly. He knew you so well, knew every inch of your body, where you liked to be touched, how you liked to be fucked.
You moaned softly when he pinched your slick covered clit between his index and middle finger.
"I want you now. Do you want it baby?" he asked in a feigned sweet tone.
"I always want you to fuck me, Cheol," you whimpered, his fingers pressed on your clit and started rubbing circles on it.
"Will you be a good girl for daddy?" his other hand had already busied itself too, sliding from your waist under your tank top to find one of your already hardened nipples.
Your mouth parted a bit, feeling a bit lost on the swirls of his fingers on your swollen clit, and his other set of fingers teasing your nipples.
Seungcheol might be drowning his worries with sex. But so were you.
"Mmm yeah, I can be good," you decided.
I mean, you could be late for a bit. Han would manage.
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They say hurt people hurt people. But how can you hurt each other and bring comfort at the same time?
You never saw that you were hurting, but in retrospect, it couldn't have been more obvious. And Seungcheol was hurting, too. Pushing troubles away with sex and alcohol, you brought comfort to each other to ease the pain that was looming close.
What was the purpose of this party? You didn't know exactly, and you didn't ask. But lately you've been visiting Jeonghan's apartment every at least twice a week, for a different party.
Now, what prompts Jeonghan to throw parties? You suspected that he was fully aware of Seungcheol's need for a distraction, and the reason why. So like the best friend Jeonghan was, he made a pathetic excuse to throw a party at his house.
Seungcheol introduced you to his best friend a month into your relationship. It was the first time he introduced you to one of his closest friends and he was so excited, as he said he just knew you were going to get along with his best friend.
And that you did. You met him and you instantly clicked with him. As the years went by, he turned into something close to a brother for you. He even called you his little sister in an endearing way.
"What took you so long?" Jeonghan asked as he opened the door to his apartment. "Wait. Spare me the details," he chuckled as he embraced you tightly. "Happy anniversary!"
"Anniversary? Is that what he's saying now?" you asked, and looked over your shoulder to see Seungcheol already being stolen away by his friends.
Although your fourth anniversary drew closer, you knew that Seungcheol might be putting that as an excuse now. Even if your birthday was before the anniversary, you were suspecting he wouldn't dare use it as a real excuse.
Jeonghan shrugged carelessly. "I don't fucking know anymore," he laughed, looking at your boyfriend in the distance. "It's a new excuse every week, is it?"
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think it is," you muttered, resisting the thought that it was getting serious.
Seungcheol had a desperate need to avert his worries lately, which had turned into party after party every week. But now he was just saying anything to bring his friends over to Jeonghan's.
"Listen, I wanted to be patient and wait for him to tell me what's going on but, I'm getting worried now," Jeonghan announced, sucking in a long breath as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"He's fine, Hannie," you said reluctantly. "He's going to be alright, he just needs to let it out of his system."
And by that, the way Seungcheol chose to let it out was by turning to his vices: sex, gambling, drinking.
He was usually a fun drunk. Loud, energetic, happy. He was quick to organize a party around so he wasted no time and had already sat at a table with his friends to play drinking games.
"Are you sure that this has nothing to do with you not taking the degree offer?" he asked in a soft tone as you walked to his kitchen where he was picking on his food prior to your arrival.
"Han," you whined, darting a look to your unbeknownst boyfriend. "I told you I don't want to talk about it."
Jeonghan had turned into something like your confidant as well. Almost everything that Seungcheol knew about you, Han knew as well. Almost everything.
His brow furrowed a little, and two of his lithe fingers pushed a strand of deep red hair back and tucked it behind his ear.
"Neither of you want to talk about it," he rolled his eyes with a goofy giggle. "I guess I'll just wait until none of you sorry asses can't hang on any longer."
You laughed. "I suppose so, too. We don't deserve you, Hannie," you mumbled, giving him a squeeze on his shoulder before walking to your boyfriend.
He was sitting on a foldable table in Jeonghan's living room. The table was covered in cans of coke and bottles of soju, but in the center of it was a pile of bills.
A small sigh escaped your mouth. You felt tired already and haven't been to your 'anniversary party' for more than two hours now.
Seungcheol had already downed almost two bottles of soju when he lifted his head and found you standing before him.
"Hi beautiful," he murmured with a content smile, his lazy eyes scanned you from top to bottom once and with his free hand he took yours, pulling you gently.
You understood what he wanted and moved to sit on his lap in front of his friends. His hand gripped you by the waist and continued to pay attention to the game of poker he was playing with his friends.
Your cheeks grew hot at the very public display of affection and dominance but deep down you knew that you liked it.
Four years ago when you started dating Seungcheol, you slowly got a grip of just how possessive he was and you found out that you liked it.
He'd let everyone and anyone with eyes know that you were off limits. You liked that he made hickeys on your neck and chest so whenever someone darted a look at your cleavage, they'd see the marks from him.
And with the red strapless dress you were wearing, everyone glanced your way. It didn't show a lot of cleavage but it made your tits look so good that it drove everyone's eyes to take a peak.
So when you sat on his lap in the middle of their poker game, you couldn't help but notice the glancing eyes from his friends. Seungcheol couldn't care less that people looked, that was something he knew he had no control over.
No one would dare to do something more than just look.
Your boyfriend always encouraged you to dress however you felt like. And you did, every time you felt you were dressing too revealing or too provocative he would reassure you that nothing would happen to you around him.
You wondered if his friends even knew they had taken the bait. You knew you'd create a distraction the moment you sat on his lap, your lush thighs crossed, a bored look on your face.
Poker was a game that deeply bored you. You knew how to play, and you always thought it was not a game for you. It took time, money and strategy.
By the end of the game, Seungcheol gathered the money from the center of the table, and with a chaste kiss on your mouth he patted your backside gently.
"You won, baby," he muttered in your ear, placing a soft kiss on your earlobe.
You frowned in confusion. "No, I didn't. You did," you countered.
"The game turned in my favor when you appeared," he chuckled, looking up at you with a glint in his eye. "You give me luck."
"I do? And what do I get?" you asked playfully.
He offered you the roll of bills that was still in his grasp. But then a knowing smirk appeared on his cherry lips. You could tell that his eyes were glazed, a sign he was a bit drunk.
"You know I'm not talking about money, Cheol," you quipped, playing with his soft dark hair with your fingers.
"Oh, angel. You are greedy," he laughed and slowly reached for your lips. And then he muttered: "Let's go home."
As soon as you crossed his apartment door, he was already turning you around using one hand to yank you by your arm. You yelped as your chest hit his frame, quickly being shushed by the drunk kisses that landed on your face.
You made no attempt to slow him down, his hands pushed you to the nearest surface he could lay your body in. Your back hit the soft cushions of the small couch as you scooted your body across it with a squeal in pure excitement.
Seungcheol pulled your dress down by the hem of the chest area, yanking it down made it tear open a bit and the smile that appeared on his face made you think that he'd been wanting to do that all night.
He pulled back with a pleased sigh, his large hands taking both ends of the tear made in your dress and pulled harshly. Another yelp came out from you when Seungcheol tore the fabric on your chest in two.
"Babe! That's the second dress that you destroy," you tried to chastise him, but you couldn't help but smile. You kind of liked to see him so needy for you that he had to tear the clothes off of you.
But being so that your strapless dress was padded around the chest area, your bare tits sprung out when he tore it open. His smile grew bigger as he dipped his head to lick your nipples.
He didn't give you a reply, he just placed open mouthed kisses on the underside of your breast while a hand wrapped the other one and gave it a squeeze, making you squirm and moan when he started sucking your nipple.
Your hands searched the hem of his black t-shirt, pinching at the fabric to pull it over. He didn't resist, being a bit drunk made him forget about staying in the domspace for a bit so he pulled back and with one movement of his arms he got rid of his t-shirt, scrunching it into a ball and chucking it across the room.
"You're so hot," you sighed, letting out a chuckle at seeing your drunk boyfriend on his knees and between your legs.
The corner of his mouth stretched a bit into a grin. "You are too, angel. So fucking hot," he bent down to kiss you, two fingers grabbing your chin as his tongue dragged across your lip, then he paused. "Everyone looked at my baby tonight, I bet they wondered what was under that little dress."
You chuckled, returning the soft drunken kisses he planted on your lips.
"But only I get to look, right baby? Only I get to kiss you," he muttered, and to make his point across he trapped your lower lip to suck on it, and then he whispered: "Only I get to fuck you."
"Yes, daddy," you smiled, watching him continue to practically make out with your tits. You let out a small moan when he turned to suck your nipples again. "I'm all yours."
He stopped and smiled, lifting his head to give you a sly look. "That's right, angel. You're mine," he muttered, his hands gathering the sides of the torn dress to break the bit that was still sown together, tearing it completely.
He got rid of your red thong quickly and threw it over his shoulder where you couldn't see them anymore. At least he didn't destroy them this time.
"You will always be mine," he muttered with a fond look in his eye as he dipped his head between your legs, holding one of your legs over his shoulder and the other in his hand, angling it open for him.
He ran his tongue all over your cunt, making you scream in pleasure and grab his head with your hands. The strands of his brown hair tangled in your fingers.
Whenever he got tipsy, he would do this. He'd eat you out until he got drunk in your sweet juices instead. So he would run his tongue across your wet folds and your pussy lips, dipping his tongue on your entrance to get a taste of you, humming, moaning with you.
"Fuck, daddy!" you cried out, squirming involuntarily under his body. You arched your back, trying with everything you had not to push your hips against his mouth.
But you just couldn't help it. You swayed your hips forward ever so slightly, your pelvic bone bumping his forehead a bit.
"Behave," he warned, throwing you a look before darting the tip of his tongue around your clit.
You sucked in a breath, feeling the pointed tip of his tongue start to flick your clit expertly, knowing that would throw you over your climax soon.
"I'm–f-fuck," you stuttered, your body already twitching. "Daddy, I'm close. Let me come, please?"
You heard him lick his lips and you glanced down to see him. "You can come all over my mouth, baby," he granted before dipping his head to tease your clit some more with his tongue.
None of you cared how loud you were. Seungcheol loved the lewd sounds he got out of you, especially when all he did was make out with your pussy. You felt your walls clench erratically as you came on his mouth, your fingers clenching around the strands of his dark brown hair.
You blinked at him as he rose from the couch, undoing his belt with one hand and you sat up to get the button of his jeans and zipper with hasty fingers.
A hand came up to cup your chin, his fingers grazing your skin softly, commanding your eyes to his. Your heart twisted when you saw his adoring eyes looking at you as you got him out of his jeans and boxers.
He had been doing that lately. His eyes would briefly linger on yours during moments of intimacy. It made your heart ache as if clenched in a tight fist.
Seungcheol undid the strap of his wrist watch and let it drop to the pile of clothes on the floor. He sat on the couch as you moved to straddle him.
The following movements were precise, too familiar. You knew each other so well that there was no need for pause. So you simply angled his cock for you to sink yourself into it with a blissful moan and started riding him slowly at first.
You looked down at his eyes.
Seungcheol got caught up on the features of your face again, almost as if committing himself to memorize every expression, the way your eyebrows knit together, the way your mouth parts, the glint in your eye when your gazes connect.
"You're beautiful," Seungcheol whispered.
A sharp feeling in your chest robbed you of words, swallowing hard you dipped your head to kiss him softly.
Your hands grabbed at his wrists when he started kneading at your thighs, caressing the curve of your waist as you rolled your hips on his cock.
He loved the sight of you, the steady sway of your hips on his cock, your tits bouncing on his face, getting tired and more aroused by the second, the sweet moans you made for him.
"So perfect," you heard him whisper.
You swallowed back a moan when you felt his hot mouth on the swell of your breasts, then suckling at your nipple and teasing the other with his fingers.
"Daddy," you mewled, fingers sinking on his soft hair. "Fuck, that feels good."
His free hand caressed your back and secured a spot on your butt, cupping your flesh gently as you seemed to be getting tired, your breath had hitched and he could see that you were almost about to tap out.
"Do you want daddy to help you come, baby?" he asked with a sweet smile on his face.
"Yeah," you breathed and bit your lip in anticipation.
Seungcheol repositioned your body so your back was now pressed down the couch, your knees hoisted up his shoulders as he sheathed his cock inside you with a moan from both parts, and he immediately started slamming his hips against you.
Soon the tiny living room would flood with the sound of your lewd gasps and the slapping of his skin against yours as he fucked you into his couch. He knew your body so well that it didn't take him long to find the sweet spot inside you that drove you a little mad.
"God, daddy! So deep," you groaned through gritted teeth.
His eyes were lost on you, he knitted his eyebrows when you did as you moaned sweetly, pleading for him to not stop, your teary eyes glazing over his face as you neared your sweet, sweet release.
"Daddy, I'm cumming," you whimpered with a high-keen moan. "Fuck-k, daddy!"
Your eyes spilled some tears when you screwed them shut, sucking in a breath and your walls tightened around him. Seungcheol came so mind-numbingly hard that he groaned loudly, fucking his cum deep into you, his eyes still lost on your face.
Mind spinning, he eased your legs down from his shoulders to press his chest against yours as he attempted to regain focus. He felt your heart beating against his, your soft breaths, his cock still wedged inside your fluttering walls.
He didn't lower his full weight on you, but he knew that if he didn't recover soon, he would fall asleep on top of you.
When you felt like he might be falling asleep, you tried to budge under him. "Let's go to bed," you muttered softly.
He hummed. "Shower first, baby. Y'know the rules."
He peeled away from your body and stood up from the couch, promptly hooking his arms beneath your body and lifting you up.
You let out a groan in protest, but didn't complain any further because he had a point. The wet sensation making its trail down from your core was enough to make you go along with him.
He started the shower while you were in the middle of the bathroom, which was more cluttered with your stuff than his.
"Come on," he muttered lazily as he extended a hand to you, stepping on the shower with him.
He cupped his hands to gather water and he poured it on your shoulders. "Is it too hot?"
You shook your head and he proceeded to clean your body.
Seungcheol looked focused as he gently covered you in soap. You practically beamed at him, no matter how many times he did this, you always found it endearing whenever he washed your hair and body because he did it with a lot of care.
"You're okay?" he asked, taking one of your hands to rub your arm with soap.
"I'm fine, Cheol," you cooed and lifted your other hand for him to repeat the same process.
He hummed and nodded with his head briefly, his eyes inspecting your whole body as he covered every inch in soap.
"Turn around for me, baby," he instructed and you turned your back on him, the gentle stream of warm water landing on your face as he washed your back.
His wet dark hair was sticking to his forehead as the gentle stream from the showerhead above you warmed your body. He hugged you from behind and pressed his lips against your cheek.
"I love you so much," he whispered, pressing his lips repeatedly on yours. "Go to bed. I'll be there in five."
"I love you too, babe," you muttered before stepping out of the shower to dry your whole body with a towel and prepared for bed.
You practically slumped on the bed, where you had a designated side, marked by the small pile of books on one of the nightstands.
Five minutes later, you felt the bed sink behind your body on the weight of Seungcheol's body. He quickly grabbed your body in his arms and hugged you tightly, pressing kisses on your naked shoulder.
You thanked the warmth emanating from his body as he cuddled you beneath the bedsheets and bed covers.
A moment of silence happened between you. It should've been normal, but something in you sensed that Seungcheol was trying to get something out of his chest as his lips pressed long kisses on your skin.
"Love? Are you asleep already?" he muttered softly.
You turned beneath the bed sheets to face him.
His eyes wandered from yours, and into the distance behind your back. His brow furrowed ever so slightly and you saw how he choked on his own words before he could even utter a single one.
"Let's sleep, okay?," you suggested, your heart dropping at the sight of him being so troubled.
He nodded, blinking sleepily at you.
You smiled and cupped his cheek with one hand, which made his brow relax and his hand came up to yours, pressing his cheek against your hand.
"I love you," he whispered.
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The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing below your pillow.
You had but one message from your mother, detailing that her and your father were just coming back from their trip overseas and that they had just sent a driver to come pick you up because they were eager to see you.
You huffed. That was pretty much an euphemism for: 'We know you haven't been home since we left and we're not happy about it.'
That was pretty much like a routine for you, so you left your phone aside, just as a heavy arm circled your frame and pulled you closer to his.
"It'll be my birthday soon," you pointed with a small voice. "I'm turning twenty-four."
"I know, baby," he replied with a small frown, trying to egg you to get to your point.
"Maybe... I think it would be nice for us to start planning to get together–," you took a deep breath. "I wanna move in, with you."
Seungcheol allowed your words to sink in for a moment, not just for him but for you too, as if giving you a chance to elaborate.
"Would you like that?" you asked, shifting slightly on the pillow. "I mean, I practically live here already. And I'm making money, I'm sure we can manage..."
You could see the gears in his brain turning, his dark eyes reading your face over and over. His silence was unsettling and as the seconds went by, you started to feel nervous.
"What about your graduate acceptance?" he finally asked, his voice sounded almost like a croak, and you weren't sure if it was the raw emotion of finally touching the subject or the fact that you both had just woken up.
You shrugged slightly. "What about it?" your voice quivered slightly. "I can try next year, it's no big deal."
"No big deal, really?" he repeated slowly. "Baby, what are you even saying?"
"I can try again next year, maybe they'll give me the funding for the research next time," you fretted slightly beneath the sheets, an instant giveaway that you weren't sure of your own words.
"Why are you doing this?" he blurted, and the words sounded as if he wanted to ask for a whole month.
"Do what?" you frowned slightly.
"You're turning down this opportunity, your dream opportunity, why?" he asked.
"I just think that it might not be the best moment for me to take it," you mumbled, again, that tinge of uncertainty lacing your words.
"What?" he cringed. "You're joking, right?"
You paused, unable to give him a reply. Not because you didn't want to, but you didn't know what to say.
When you didn't say anything at all, Seungcheol sat up on the bed with a sigh. He rubbed his face and then brushed his hair through his fingers, a clear sign that he was getting heated.
"Cheol," you started, trying to get him to look at you. "If I go away right now, we're losing time together and I don't want that."
"You're telling me that you're turning down a once in a lifetime opportunity for us?" he asked, and you saw him shake his head slightly, but he was still not looking at you. "Can't we do long distance? Can't we take it up when you get back?"
The questions he was asking were honest and valid. But in your perspective, it was time lost.
"In a year and a half?" you pressed. "And you know we won't be able to do long distance, it will be nearly impossible."
"It will be better than you missing out on the opportunity to build and achieve your goals," he countered sternly. "I can't believe you're turning this down."
At that, he rose from the bed, throwing the duvet and sheets aside and opened his drawer to fish out his underwear and put it on silently as your mind reeled.
You sat up on the bed as he slid a pair of black sweatpants and turned to your direction.
"Say something," he urged.
"What do you want me to say, Cheol?" you started and shrugged again. "I've made up my mind. Why can't you just accept that?"
You rose from the bed too and copied his actions by finding your underwear and putting it on silently.
"I just want what's best for you," he said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
"At the cost of what we have?" you asked, knowing that you were threading on a dangerous path.
"Why does it have to be that way?" he asked, and you could sense the desperation in him just by hearing his voice. "Baby, this is your future and you're putting it on the line, for what?"
"For you, Seungcheol! For us!" you turned, your voice rang hoarse. You knew that it was wrong to raise your voice, it wasn't needed.
But you were in pain.
And he knew that.
"I don't want this," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"You don't want me?" you asked, your chest had started to heave in remorse and tears welled in your eyes.
He rolled his eyes in utter annoyance. "I want you to choose what's best for you and maybe right now the best for you is to follow your dream."
"What if what I want is to be with you?" you asked despite the feeling that maybe you were stepping on a line. "What if I tell you that I want to start a life with you?"
He ran his hands over his hair and his eyes rolled back again, but this time he just looked straight at the ceiling. "Since we know each other you wanted this," he shook his head slightly. "I can't believe that you just changed your mind in the span of a couple of weeks."
"But what if I have?" you sniffed loudly as tears ran down your cheeks. "What if I choose you? You don't want that?"
"I want you to choose yourself for the first fucking time in your life!" his words hung in the air between you two, but as soon as he uttered them, he looked like he wanted to take them back immediately.
But it was too late.
He was right.
But you couldn't give him that, you just couldn't see it at that moment.
He was right, but so were you.
You stood there, frozen. Feeling like an idiot. For four fucking years, all you did was choose him over everything. Half of your life was in that apartment; your wishes to move in with him and finally start your life far away from your family.
But now, you felt pushed away.
Seungcheol looked scared for a second, his mouth agape and widened eyes, as if waiting for your next move.
"Baby, I'm-,"
"I'm leaving," you declared, scrambling to get your clothes from your drawer in his bedroom. Hot tears blurred your vision as you tried your best to dress up quickly.
"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, just-"
"No, Seungcheol. Don't baby me."
"We need to have this talk," he insisted, chasing you all over the bedroom as you dressed up.
"There is nothing to talk about. I'm done. I'm taking my mom's offer."
"What? Just like that? I say one wrong thing and that's it?" he asked, his voice strung in pain and confusion.
This can't be happening, he thought over and over.
You scrambled desperately for your pants, anything to put on.
"No, you're right," you told him. "You're always right. I should choose myself. I am so fucking dumb for thinking I was doing the right thing by choosing you."
You didn't dare to look at his face, but you knew that it hurt. It hurt saying it and Seungcheol stopped chasing you in his room as you found a top to put on.
"Don't do this," he said as he tried to take your arm, which you yanked from his grip.
"Do what?!" you snapped, finally looking at his face as you finished dressing up. "Do what, Seungcheol? You are leaving me with no choice. So, do what, exactly?"
Your voice rang with rage and despair. And when you faced him, you probably conveyed those emotions in your eyes because Seungcheol's expression just broke.
"This! Not talking it out, trying to hurt me," he gritted. "We need to talk about this. Or else, you're going to leave to another fucking continent and where does that leave us, me?"
Your steps were determined as you walked away from him, creating a physical and emotional distance between the two of you. He stood there, a mixture of frustration and despair written on his face.
"I can't tell you that, Seungcheol," you uttered through a broken voice. "That's something you'll have to sort out alone."
His eyes narrowed and tilted his head to the side just slightly, shoulders slumping down in defeat.
"What are you saying?" he asked, his eyes searching your face frantically and in sheer disbelief.
"Maybe we're not ready for this, Seungcheol," you told him despite the crippling pain in your heart. "Maybe I need to figure things out by myself."
This was happening. Despite all Seungcheol's planning, scheming, despite all his love, you chose this. You chose yourself.
So he had to make his choice.
"So this is it?" he asked, his eyes dead.
Your head nodded, chest heaving. "This is it."
The silence between you grew heavy, so heavy that Seungcheol felt nearing a breaking point.
"I never thought we would end like this," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Neither did I," you replied.
A broken sigh fell from his lips, choking up from the sheer pain invading his chest. "Is this what you truly want?"
"It is," you whispered.
You watched him swallow hard and then he nodded, balling his hands into fists, gritting his teeth as he accepted your choice, thus finalizing his.
Everything inside him screamed in pain, pleading with him to fight harder, to make you see what he saw but he just nodded.
He was letting you go.
The reality was, you and Seungcheol had given up.
It didn't feel real. The air was almost sickening, it made you dizzy.
With a last look, you walked away, leaving behind a piece of your heart and the remains of your first love, your first everything.
You left his apartment, slamming the door on your way out, tears blurring your vision as you hurried down the stairs. Your head was buzzing, and your chest hurt so much that you never noticed that Seungcheol changed his mind and followed you out the building.
But as soon as he saw you get in a black car, tinted windows and drove away, he knew he had lost you, you were gone.
And that you were, for two years.
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✧ a/n: hiiiii ᨐฅ
i cried while writing this, and that's a first for me.
i hope this flashback chapter wasn't confusing haha. if it was, feel free to comment or send me an ask!
› so who do you think was in the wrong/right here? reader or seungcheol? i wanna know your opinions ‹(•⩊•)› i'd say they were both dumb and thought themselves to be undeserving of each other and threw it all away at the slightest bit of conflict haha
once again, this was loosely proofread, am sorry
if you liked reading this, please let me know? i'd appreciate a comment, reblog, like or even an ask! my ask box is always open and i love to know your thoughts on anything ૮₍。´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`。₎ა
↣ i want to dedicate this chapter to @cvntrlseecvntrlvee, who kept the seungcheol brain rot alive and kicking, 💟
✧ STAY TUNED FOR PART 4 ✧ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
toodles
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© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.
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theladysunami · 3 months
Text
I listen to a lot of audiobook murder mysteries, which has me thinking:
Shen Yuan transmigrating into a murder mystery… as the killer!
There are a couple of ways the story could go.
First Option: Shen Yuan lets his System know, in no uncertain terms, he will not be murdering anyone.
Its response: [Alternate Plotline Initiated. New Assignment: Designated Red Herring].
Poor Shen Qingqiu finds himself stuck in a whole murder mystery series, and any time anyone is murdered, he somehow ends up being the number one suspect!
The victim? Probably picked a fight with Shen Qingqiu at some point. (Shen Qingqiu tries to avoid such arguments, but it never seems to work!)
The murder weapon? Yeah, Shen Qingqiu is almost guaranteed to have touched it. (Shen Qingqiu is severely tempted to start wearing gloves 24/7.)
The body? Either Shen Qingqiu finds it himself at some inopportune time, and/or it was stashed somewhere “only” he is supposed to have access to. (At some point it's just: Shen Qingqiu opens a door… sees a body… closes the door. “Time to call the cops, yet again.”)
Shen Qingqiu ends up a tad paranoid about the whole thing, setting up cameras outside his house, in his office, in his car, etc. just to (hopefully) stop people from planting evidence any of those places.
If anyone asks about the truly absurd number of (eventually dropped) murder allegations, Shen Qingqiu insists he's cursed. Even with genre blinders on (making the number of convoluted murders in the area seem normal somehow), it's hard for anyone to argue the point.
For Shen Qingqiu's day job (when he's not busy being charged with murder) he works as a professor at a university with a highly regarded Criminology & Criminal Justice program. I'm thinking the original goods was a literature professor, with a strong distaste for cops, who was known for grading anyone in the criminal justice program exceedingly harshly. Naturally one of his students is the protagonist, Luo Binghe.
After his transmigration, professor Shen Qingqiu suddenly becomes a very kind and doting professor with a real passion for literature. This leaves Luo Binghe quickly smitten and makes him a very motivated amateur detective, since he's determined to prove his beloved's innocence as quickly as possible and as often as needed!
Second Option: Shen Yuan takes over after the original goods already committed the murder.
He wakes up with a splitting headache (the victim attempted to defend themselves presumably), looks at his bloody hands… looks at the victim… looks at the weapon… looks at his bloody hands again. “Damn it, Airplane.”
He decides he doesn't want to try and hide a body actually, just to be caught by the protagonist later and charged with a whole slew of things in addition to murder, so he calls the cops himself. He might as well take advantage of the fact he has a concussion and literally doesn't remember a thing. Maybe he can get the charges reduced somewhat and get a lighter sentence.
Of course the first cop that arrives at the scene is Yue Qingyuan, who as the #1 Xiao-Jiu stan gives Shen Qingqiu way too much benefit of the doubt. The most obvious evidence also keeps being erased or damaged by weird as hell coincidences.
Shen Qingqiu knows he certainly isn't responsible for damaging evidence and wonders if the System is working overtime behind the scenes to ensure there actually is a mystery for Luo Binghe to solve. (After all, it wouldn't be much of a story if Shen Qingqiu was already charged and sentenced before Luo Binghe had a chance to even do anything.)
To his complete bewilderment, after a few days leave to recover from the concussion, Shen Qingqiu is actually allowed to return to his university teaching job. He decides to make the best of it, since who knows how long he'll be a free man.
As in the first scenario, a few months later and Luo Binghe is absolutely smitten, not to mention all the other students and faculty that have come to adore him.
As Shen Qingqiu has successfully endeared himself to pretty much anyone and everyone local that could actually charge him or provide eyewitness testimony, not to mention all the shady shit about murder victim Qiu Jianluo the ongoing investigation keeps digging up, the plot stalls for a bit until the state police (aka Huan Hua Palace) are finally called in by Qiu Haitang.
Unfortunately for the ‘HHP’ folks, the protagonist himself is on Shen Qingqiu's side, and Luo Binghe is perfectly happy to muddy the waters by conveniently “losing” evidence, sending them after every single red herring he comes across, and “accidentally” digging up dirt on all the shady dealings going on in their department.
The System keeps trying to motivate Shen Qingqiu to hide evidence, lie, or do literally anything suspicious to progress the plot further, but all its punishment protocols involve sabotaging Shen Qingqiu's coverup attempts (of which he has none) or revealing information to the protagonist (who is complicit by this point) so it's fresh out of luck.
Eventually the System gives up and Shen Qingqiu is congratulated for “getting away with murder!” despite the fact he didn't actually do anything.
“Seriously? Does it even count as getting away with murder when the original goods was the actual murderer? I didn't kill anyone!”
[...]
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sempersirens · 7 months
Text
raising hell all over town
pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader
summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?
content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking
a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @breakfastupdates and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)
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Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.
For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.
Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.
Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.
Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.
Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.
There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.
When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.
He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.
Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.
"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.
"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."
"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.
"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.
"Babe, just say they're boring."
"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"
"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."
Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.
The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.
"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.
"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.
The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.
"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.
As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.
"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.
"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.
"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.
You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.
"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.
"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.
Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.
"I said, apologise to my friend."
"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.
"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.
Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.
"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."
The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.
"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.
"No, I think it just looks like that."
You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.
"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.
"What?!"
"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.
You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.
"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.
"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."
He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.
"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."
"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.
Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.
"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."
"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.
"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."
"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.
Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.
"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.
"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."
Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.
You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.
As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.
Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.
You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.
"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."
"Peace is overrated." You replied.
"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"
You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.
"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."
"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"
"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."
He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."
"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.
"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."
He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.
"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.
He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.
"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.
"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.
"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.
For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.
He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.
So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.
The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.
Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.
You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.
"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.
Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.
"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."
"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"
He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.
"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.
"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.
His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.
"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"
"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."
You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.
Joel swallowed hard.
"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.
"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."
He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.
Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.
"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."
You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.
“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”
Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.
He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.
"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.
Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."
"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."
Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.
"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."
You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.
"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.
Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.
"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.
The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.
"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.
"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"
You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.
"Yes, sir."
part 2 coming soon
taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel
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indieyuugure · 4 months
Note
Hey what tips do you have for speech bubbles in a comic
A few, let’s see what I can come up with.
Okay number 1: If you are doing any kind of comic, DO THE TEXT BEFORE THE BUBBLE! Do not ever draw a bubble and then try to cram three long sentences into it. It doesn’t look good and the text ends up being illegibly small. Example:
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- Number 2: IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE ONE BUBBLE! Sometimes when you’re character has a very long dialogue segment or you want there to be an audible pause, you can break their dialogue into pieces connected by tails.
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This is a good tool for making sure people actually read the dialogue. A lot of people (myself included) have a subconscious reaction to big blobs of text that makes them want to skip it or just skim it. By breaking the long exposition into smaller chunks, people’s brains won’t see it as a ton of effort, and will remain focused on the story, even though it’s literally the exact same number of characters.
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This works because of the way we perceive time in a story. Because I want this scene to feel like a slow tense moment, I split the dialogue so it takes longer for the reader to read the dialogue and thus, feel as though this moment is longer.
Number 3: PLAN FOR YOUR SPEECH BUBBLES! This is something I have had to learn the hard way! Do not draw the picture and add the speech bubbles later. The way you draw a picture without speech bubbles and with is very different. Example:
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This is not good! The speech bubble is cutting out your picture! Now, everyone does their speech bubble differently, I do mine at 90% opacity, some don’t do any bubble and just draw the speaker’s tail, but many do 100% opaque speech bubbles and this is not good! How to fix it:
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Plan where your speech bubbles will go and purposely leave empty space there or something that you don’t care about as much, like the tips of their hair, or their bandana tails, or the end of their scarf, etc. Just make sure that your image is small enough that you can still see it with the speech bubbles on top. If you can’t shrink the image enough to fit it and the speech bubbles, then you need to consult rule 2.
Alright, I think that’s it! As a recap: Do the text before the bubble, The text doesn’t have to be in one bubble, and plan for your speech bubbles!
Hopefully you found this helpful, if you have any further questions, I’d be happy to help!
Good question! :]
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stashoflostsouls · 6 months
Text
Hey, maybe wanna cry even more thanks to this scene?
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While reading Visions of V I suddenly had a thought when reaching these panels: Why did Vergil actually cut Dante's palm like that?
I mean, if the boys have proven anything, it's that they both have one hell of a pain tolerance. They get sliced and diced and stabbed on the regular after all, and while the injury may hinder them for a second or two (or three when exhausted), they've never really seemed to care too much about pain. Hell, Dante got utterly shish-kababed in the opening of dmc3 alone, and he seemed pretty unbothered by it all.
So why the cut if it's probably not going to deter Dante too much... Not truly at least...
But then I thought about the exact location of the cut and what it meant as an actual injury.
You see where Vergil sliced Dante's hand? That's anatomically where the main ligaments to flex ones fingers are located. Except of course the flexor of the thumb.
Here's a quick pic to better illustrate.
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(Source, which is at the same time also a site about these kinds of injuries).
You see what I mean? Vergil cut through the flexor tendons in the palm pretty nicely since it looks like he went deep enough to sever them.
Which means that only the extensors were left as working ligaments. Which means Dante wouldn't have been able to curl his fingers in any way, only extend them as shown above (or in this set of gifs)...
Meaning, he wouldn't have been able to grab onto anything. At all. Not even his falling brother!
...
Vergil really didn't want to leave anything up to chance, did he?
He definitely noticed that in the moment Dante could have stopped his fall, since Dante was close enough to grab Vergil's foot or coat or maybe even more. So that's why he went and made even the thought of it an utter impossibility in one swift slice.
And sure, with the twins' healing it probably only took a split second for the ligaments to mend (maybe a bit longer even with their regeneration cause that's one nasty injury), but that split second was enough.
So not only did Vergil dissuade Dante from reaching for him or following him into the underworld through pain, drawing one last line into the sand his brother wasn't allowed to cross. But he also literally made it impossible for Dante to grab onto him with the hand he had extended.
All so that he could surely fall to his doom...
...
These two just never stop, do they? ;v;
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the0doreslover · 8 months
Note
Hi do you still do requests if so i have an odd one for you.
Ravenclaw reader has a headache and asks for a remedy from one of the Gryffindors, Fred gives her a Potion in a bottle that she drinks all of it. It's not until her second lesson that she starts feeling funny, she realized it's a combo of LSD and water so she trippin. She normally quite shy and reserved. Realising she cant concentrate she skips her lessons and stays at the tower where's she meets Theodore Nott and is giggling like a child. He finds it amusing and she confesses he situation.
chemical romance
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it may of been the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping very well for the past couple of nights but you woke up with a splitting headache, causing you to wince in pain at every slight movement you made.
You had just about made it out of bed and into the great hall when you took a seat at whatever table was closest.
you ended up on the gryfindor table surrounded by some of your friends
“you look like shit” ron laughed
“thank you ron, always so sweet”
“what’s going on with you?” hermione asked genuinely curious for her friend
“my head is killing me” you explained
“freddy don’t we have something for that?” george asked his brother with a smile
“are you talking about our new and improved headache remedy” fred replied a bit to animatedly
“i’ll honestly take anything”
“anything?” they asked at the same time making you regret your statement
“don’t do it y/n you can’t trust them” harry piped in
“thanks for your concern harry but i’d literally take slugs if that got rid of this headache”
“if you want we can give you slugs as well” george smiled
“don’t test me”
after breakfast you followed the twins to their dorm and sat quietly on george’s bed while you waited for them to cure you
a few minutes later they came out with a bottle, after pouring it into a cup you were shooed out of their dorm
“so i just drink this?”
“yeah, drink you won’t know what hit you”
you were about to ask what they meant by that before you saw the door being shut in your face
“well, thank you” you shouted at the door hoping they could hear.
wasting no time you quickly gulped back the liquid and started walking to your class.
Potions, one of the most long lessons in your timetable.
you were currently trying to brew a sleeping draught with seamus finnigan while also waiting for your medicine to take effect.
once snape assessed your potion you sat back down and closed your eyes for a second
“hey y/n what are you doing after classes?” you heard seamus ask you
opening your eyes you froze at the change in scene, your vision started going fuzzy, you blinked a few times to try and fix it but instead it made it worse. Now things were breathing?
you couldn’t focus on what seamus was asking you, and instead were just trying to understand what was happening to you.
“i was wondering if you would like to hang out?” his voice echoed like a loud microphone
you looked down at your hand and watched as it left a trail as you waved it. Looking back up remembered a book you read last year on muggle-
those ginger twits gave you drugs.
luckily for you it wasn’t that high of a dose but despite that you still were finding it hard to concentrate on anything.
“so what do you say?” seamus asked again while that question rung in your mind sounding quite odd
you laughed, not on purpose, you swear
“you don’t have to? no need to laugh at me” he grumbled
you quickly shot up attracting some eyes of other students
“sir i need to leave” you said with a smile looking at a random student who looked a lot like snape.
“i’m over here miss L/n, what is the reason?”
you tried your best to locate where he said that from and quickly thought of an excuse
“i’m not feeling well!” you laugh and accidentally said to loud before giving up and quickly grabbing your things ready to shoot out the door.
snape had just about excused you, not believing your situation as you laughed in his face, once you had been allowed to go you wandered the hallways shouting insults aloud
“stupid weasleys, that’s illegal!”
“how dare they give me drugs”
“i’m going to kill them”
despite your anger you couldn’t stop yourself laughing
you shortly found yourself at the entrance of the astronomy tower.
finding no point in going to your next lesson you went up the stairs.
you found looking at the floor quite interesting to be honest, the way the tiles were moving was quite calming to you
you were still grumbling insults towards the twins when you got to the tower
“you alright?”
you jumped at the voice and quickly looked up, despite your vision being a bit off you could make out the face of the slytherin, Theodore nott.
“yeah” you laughed
“alright”
you both started at each other in awkward silence before you burst into laughter yet again
“did i say something funny?” he looked amused
“not you” you smiled
“this is the most i’ve heard you say in all the years i’ve shared classes with you”
“haha very funny” you said trying to be sarcastic but ending up laughing your ass off “i’m sorry, i really am sorry”
“no way” he said, his eyebrows raising and mouth turning up into a grin
you of course could barely make out the objects around you
“what?” you asked
“you’re on drugs!” he said and this time it was his turn to laugh
“no no no” you said trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably starting a chain of laughter between the two of you
“i cannot believe this! Y/n L/n is on dr-”
you quickly shot forward and tried to put your hand on his mouth, but ended up covering his eyes
“no one can ever know this” you whispered while he nodded
“what did you take?” he asked
“i…. don’t know?” you grinned
“you’re funny” he replied
“trust me, i’m not i’m only interesting right now because i’m on drugs… wait am i going to become a drugaholic? shit i’m a drug addict!” you panicked suddenly not finding the situation funny
he sat down leaning against the railing while you followed.
“you’re definitely in the panicking stage but don’t worry i think you have to drugs everyday to be a drug addict” he smiled “you’re fine”
you smiled back and almost forgot, you were actually talking to a slytherin!
almost forgot
“i shouldn’t be talking to you” you said turning away from him
“oh yeah? why’s that”
“you don’t like my friends” you answered
“can’t i not like you’re friends and like you?”
“it doesn’t work like that” you said looking back at him now
“why can’t we make it work?” he said softly
“you know i have barely been able to see your face this whole time” you laughed changing the subject
“why’s that?” he asked
“your blurry”
you both bursted into laughter again
“we should go somewhere else, there’s a class in here next”
“we? no i’m going to sleep this off, have fun going somewhere else” you said beginning to walk away. You felt him grab your hand, turning to face him he smiled
“for the record i always found you interesting”
he let go then walked right past you
you watched his figure go down the stairs and stood frozen for a minute
“wait theodore! i can’t go down these stairs, i could just about go up them, i’ll fall and die!”
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castieltrash1 · 11 months
Text
the devil has come home → charlie w.
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summary → during one of your regular movie nights, charlie asks to take your relationship a step forward
word count → 3.4k
warnings → smut; virgin!charlie x f!reader, oral, literally an entire fic dedicated to charlie eating pussy idk what u want me to say, dirty talk, switch!charlie, established relationship, almost fingering, premature ejaculation, cumming untouched, overstimulation, and hair pulling
a/n → everyone and their mother is in their rory culkin era rn so here u go, whores (affectionate) <3 no but fr i watched scream 4 the other day and knew what i had to do so pls enjoy xoxo
+ bonus points to whoever can figure out the title ;)
---
Charlie shifts beside you, gnawing at his bottom lip to restrain the interruption on the tip of his tongue.
“Did you know,” he suddenly begins, unable to stop himself. “That the school is actually called Ewen High in the book?” On the screen in front of you, a meek Carrie White stumbles through the library in a scene oddly similar to your boyfriend’s own reclusive attitude, and you drag your tired eyes to meet his; wide, with an excited glint reflecting off their pale blue hue. “They renamed it in the adaptation as a nod to Psycho.”
“Really?” you ask, surprised. “I don’t think you’ve told me that one yet.” The comment, while honest, makes Charlie flustered, and he unconsciously shifts closer to the opposite end of the couch. “But I like hearing about all the facts you know,” you reassure his silent insecurity, nuzzling closer. Pressing your lips to his shoulder and kissing the soft cotton sleeve of his shirt, you continue, teasing: “Even if I have heard most of them before.” He groans, but his chest rumbles beneath you with his own restrained amusement.
Peering up at Charlie, you prepare for what is bound to be a lengthy explanation. “So, what, it’s like Norman Bates?” you ask, but Charlie simply nods, mumbling a quiet affirmation under his breath. Already, his eyes are locked back on the television, colorful lights bouncing off his face. It must be his tenth time watching the classic horror film but he stares with the amazement of a first-time viewer, as if he wasn’t rambling about something called a split diopter shot just a few scenes ago.
You can’t help but smile at his quick shift in attention, ultimately content with settling down and letting him focus. As long as a scary movie is playing, you’ll always be the second most important thing in the room to Charlie; a title you hold with pride. Unlike others in his life, his passion doesn’t bother you. In fact, you find yourself admiring his ability to juggle a film studies degree, the leadership position of your college’s cinema club, and weekly series rewatches with the rest of his busy life. Your only complaint would be having to share the small couch in his apartment with Robbie, whose presence makes the already rare mid-movie makeout session completely non-existent. Thankfully, he’s visiting family this weekend, but the lack of a clingy roommate has seemingly had zero effect on Charlie’s inclination to make a move.
So, when your boyfriend awkwardly clears his throat, you quickly tune back in, caught off-guard by the scene unfolding. On-screen is a vivid reminder of the part of your relationship that, up until now, has been virtually unexplored. Despite being unphased during the naked locker room title card, Charlie now fidgets uncomfortably as one of the male characters, whose name you can’t remember, receives a blowjob in his car. The actual act is offscreen, but there’s enough crotch-leveled head bobbing in the camera’s view to surmise what’s happening below the cutoff.
When it comes to anyone else’s sex life, Charlie is as interested as you could expect any newly independent young guy to be. If a couple is getting handsy during a party or other gathering, he’s the one to speak up and tease them about getting a room. When one of your friends unknowingly makes an innuendo, it’s him who laughs, derailing the conversation with some form of that’s what she said joke. Even during the gratuitous nudity scenes popular in his favorite genre, your boyfriend usually pairs his reddened cheeks with a low whistle of appreciation.
Simply put, Charlie is not a prude.
That fact had been what stumped you as your relationship grew, regular milestones coasting by at average speeds. It took three instances of him not reaching under your bra during makeout sessions, happily groping at your chest through two layers of clothes, for you to realize that his personal experience ended abruptly atop second base. Even when it was physically obvious he was ready to move on, Charlie had never mentioned or hinted at continuing, so neither did you. Now, it’s almost as if the glaring depiction of a couple being intimate has finally reminded him how little you two have done.
Thankfully, a bout of bad editing eases the sudden tension. “How is she talking right now?” you snort, referencing the actress’ voiceover poorly edited into the scene. Charlie flinches at your interruption, but you barely notice, too busy jabbing your pointer finger directly at the screen. “She’s still got John Travolta’s dick in her mouth!”
“Billy,” Charlie tensely corrects.
Assuming his tone is just a result of your outburst, you roll your eyes. “Whatever. All I’m saying is you can barely remember how to breathe while giving head, let alone start… I don’t know… monologuing about the girl you hate.” You huff, shaking your head. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt again. Promise,” you apologize, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you when Charlie doesn’t immediately reply. You hadn’t meant to insult him or the movie, but maybe your attempt at a bad joke had fallen short, too personal and poorly timed to do anything more than hurt his feelings.
You start to pull back, intent on apologizing again but are surprised to see Charlie already staring at you. Thinking he’s waiting for your regretful spiel, you start to speak. “I’m s-”
“I want to try,” Charlie says at the same time. The rest of your words suffocate in your hitched breath, offering a subsequent silence that he quickly tries to fill. “Giving you head or, like, e-eating you out, I mean.” The admission makes him swallow heavily, wide eyes unblinking, and you sit there motionless in surprise. When you offer little more than a shaky exhale in response, Charlie squeaks out an excuse. “Not that we - not that you have to or anything, I just…” Regret spreads across his face and you quickly recover, grabbing his shaking hand with yours.
“Okay,” you agree, trying to steady your breathing as the image of Charlie between your thighs flashes through your head.  “Are you sure?” He nods so quickly that you almost blink and miss it.
“I’m definitely sure,” Charlie reassures, squeezing your fingers between his. “A-are you?”
“Definitely,” you echo, already feeling a steady warmth spread across your body. Despite your shared revelation, there’s a long moment where neither of you moves even an inch, hands clasped together as if carved from one marble stone. It isn’t until Charlie’s gaze flickers to your still-parted lips that you take the bait, reeled closer and closer until your mouth meets his.
“Fuck,” Charlie breathes, words becoming a muffled vibration when you press harder, tongue dragging to gather the taste of him. You reach for his hair now, dark waves weaving themselves between each of your fingers, and he lets out a little whimper when you tug, pulling him against you. His grip seems to have no end in sight, blindly reaching at and grasping whatever parts of you he can, fingers meeting your thighs, hips, chest, and neck. His thumbs prop up your chin, giving him the angle to lick needily inside your mouth, and you melt in his grasp, letting him take what he needs.
“Can I…” Charlie leaves a shallow bite mark on your bottom lip, soothing it with a gentle pass of his tongue. His fingers dip to the hem of your shirt now, tips brushing the inside seam. Faintly, you remember he’s never felt you here. He inches back just enough to speak clearly, voice filling the thin space between you. “Y-you can take it off and…” Already, he’s trying to pull the offending garment over your head, and you let go of his hair to help, tossing your shirt to the side the second you can.
Despite your arching into him, Charlie doesn’t immediately kiss you again, lashes fluttering as he stares shamelessly at your exposed skin. Without thinking, you reach back to undo your bra clasp with ease, straps sliding down your arms until they fall off completely. Still amazed by the previous sight, Charlie inhales sharply, pupils blown out with lust as you become barer in front of him.
“Woah…” he finally breathes, fingers tentatively brushing right below your chest. Slowly, his touch inches higher until he gives in, cupping your tits softly. The warmth between your thighs grows as he feels you in ways you’ve only imagined alone at night, eyes squeezed shut and fingers under your panties. “Holy shit.” Each exclamation falls under his breath as if he can’t contain them, commenting only to himself. “Fuck…” His grip tightens, thumbs dragging over your hardening nipples, and you sigh. “You’re so… soft.”  With a grin spreading across his face, Charlie looks to you for reassurance, squeezing harder when you nod and let out a pleased sound. “D-does it feel good?”
“Mhm.” You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding, skipping beats against his hands. “You can be rougher, though,” you tell him, reaching up to lay your palms on the back of his. “I’ll tell you if it hurts, I promise.” Growing more confident from your words, Charlie begins experimenting with different levels of pressure, nails digging into your skin one second and then pinching and tugging at your nipples the next. His breathing grows heavier with each passing moment, and you can’t help the low moans escaping your lips at the feeling of his desperation and the excitement radiating off of him.
And then, without needing any reassurance, Charlie replaces his hands with his mouth, sucking eagerly at every inch of your heaving chest. “S-shit,” you gasp, then let out a breathy laugh. You push some of his long hair back, tucked behind his ears, and smile at the sight of him. His eyes are closed, face red and warm, lips slick with spit as he runs his tongue against the contours of your body. “You’re so good,” you tell him, panting when he moans against you at the praise, the vibration tingling your skin. He wraps his mouth around your nipple before pulling it between his teeth, the sharp sting sending a shiver up your spine.
“I could do this forever,” Charlie lets go to admit, and then, remembering the task at hand, begins to descend lower, kissing and licking down your bare stomach. His hands steady your twitching hips, ticklish as his soft hair brushes your sensitive skin. You continue to whisper praises until he reaches the waistband of your pajama pants and halts. He swallows heavily, the movement of his bobbing throat almost audible above the drone of the television. You blindly reach for the remote and crank down the volume until it plays a low buzz of sound you can barely make out. God help him if your boyfriend gets distracted by a bucket of pig’s blood at a time like this.
“Do I just…” Charlie trails off, unable to vocalize his thoughts. Instead of answering verbally, you lift your hips, fingers meeting his. You drag the elastic past your thighs, letting Charlie pull the rest of the fabric off once it reaches your knees. He stares intently at every inch of your exposed legs, amazed by the sight, as he mindlessly tugs your feet free. It’s only when you start to move, making yourself comfortable against the arm of the couch, that Charlie finally shifts, offering you more space. He moves closer the second he’s able to occupy the emptiness between your legs.
It’s not the most ideal position but if you stop him now, Charlie might lose his boost of confidence in the few seconds it takes to walk down the hall to his room. With one knee pressed against the back of the couch, your opposite leg balancing precariously on the edge of one of the cushions, you spread out as much as you can, offering yourself to Charlie entirely. Even with your whole body on display, his eyes stay locked on one spot: the center of your underwear, where a wet spot is surely visible. You love knowing the only other time he has this look is when one of his favorite films is on.
“Is this good?” you ask, breaking him from his stupor. He blinks, confused. “The position,” you clarify, smiling at the blush that rapidly coats his cheeks.
“Y-yeah, it’s…” Charlie clears his throat, leaning in slowly. “It’s perfect. You are, I mean. You’re perfect,” he whispers, gaze darting from your face to your panties before returning. “I can see it… Does it - do you feel good?” Even with the physical proof, he seems unsure, the tone of his question bordering on disbelief. Before you can find your words, he moves in, shaky fingers meeting the inside of your thighs. “What can I do?” he asks, skin growing redder with desperation. “I-I wanna turn you on more and-”
“Charlie,” you interrupt, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You’re doing so good.” Your amazement thankfully doesn’t embarrass him, and soon enough you feel his warm exhale right where you’ve imagined him so many times before. “I-I’ll probably cum pretty fast,” you tell him, unable to make the desperate confession sound like a tease. “If you want, you can tease me through- fuck,” you gasp, feeling Charlie’s nose bump against your clothed clit, his tongue darting out to tentatively lick at the damp fabric covering you. You whimper something that vaguely sounds like his name when he presses harder, now dragging his tongue over the entirety of your core.
“Charlie,” you repeat breathlessly, grabbing at the hair that frames his face. “T-take them off, please,” you suddenly find yourself begging, hips arching for more. When lithe fingers brush against you, you almost whine at what is surely an attempt at teasing, but then Charlie is pushing your panties to the side and tentatively sucking at your now exposed cunt. Overwhelmed by the change in sensations, you buck into the feeling, immediately rewarded by the slow drag of Charlie’s tongue circling your clit before lowering to ease inside you. The technique in his actions is not lost on you and you heave in a breath, trying to speak.
“Y-you’ve really n-never?” you squeak out, thighs squeezing around his cheeks when he attempts to shake his head. When he pulls back, you shiver at the feeling of your panties sliding back into place, fabric sticking to your wet skin. Charlie looks up at you shyly, instinctively licking his lips clean of your arousal.
“I’ve… I’ve imagined this a lot,” he whispers, tone rising as he grows more confident. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”  His cheeks are flushed and his body shakes as he clings to you for support in every form. “I’m just gonna take off your panties and- and I want you to cum, okay? Don’t hold it back or anything, please. I-if you need to hold me in place or move me, just do it. I’ll…” Stunned by his proclamation, you wait in awe for him to finish. “I’ll be good for you, I swear,” he finally promises.
True to his word, Charlie immediately resumes the task at hand, finally tugging your panties completely off and shoving them to the side. Despite the vulnerability of your position, laid bare for him, you can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips when he leans back in. Charlie drags a soothing palm down the inside of your thigh before his mouth is on you again, now slower and more precise. His gaze is focused, flickering between your expression and body, taking in every shift of your features and shiver that runs across you.
He starts by tasting the entirety of you, tongue flattened and firm as it glides against your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, letting you grind onto him until you both build a steady rhythm. It’s not enough to make you cum, but it isn’t meant to be; a consistent sensation that keeps you wanting more, without unbearably teasing you. That comes when Charlie begins to flick his tongue against your clit, so quickly and effortlessly that it takes your breath away. A litany of sounds escapes you as he dedicates all of his attention to your most sensitive spot, torturing it endlessly. His own moans only add to the sensation, a low vibration that seems to trail up the rest of your body, filling your head with a rhythmic buzz.
“Fuck,” you gasp, vision blurring and thighs trembling as Charlie replaces his tongue with his thumb, calloused skin circling your clit in a steady motion. With his mouth free, and between quick inhales, he starts to speak again.
“You taste so good,” he says, the vulgarity of his words no longer seeming to phase him. He rubs harder, faster, and his breathing hastens. “I-I want you to cum on my tongue, please?” His question sounds more like a plea, especially with the way he seems to pant around each word. “I’m gonna keep licking h-here, okay?” he asks, thumb dragging lower until the tip sinks into you with ease. Both of you still, the motion propelling the room into complete silence. Charlie lets a bit more of his thumb push into you before he pulls back completely, shakily exhaling. “It… You’re so warm,” he remarks, staring intently at where the arousal slowly drips from you. Like a moth to a flame, his mouth returns, messily licking clean your wetness.
You cry out his name, tugging on his hair so harshly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t relent. Your hips buck and you grind your clit against his firm thumb, his tongue pressing inside you just as the thick digit had moments prior. Your mantra is only quietened by the sound of Charlie’s, a muffled please, please, please mouthed against your core that has you spiraling, desperation mirroring his. A quick glance shows you that while his head and hands are focused, the rest of his body is uncontrolled as he ruts against the sofa, so turned on he can’t help but chase release.
The sharp edge of your own impending orgasm hits you so hard it seems to isolate the rest of your senses, body and mind falling into an endless abyss with only Charlie’s touch anchoring you to the present. His incessant effort to satisfy himself with your pleasure intensifies everything until you find yourself succumbing to his ultimate desire. A broken admission falls from your lips as you cum on his tongue, neverending high propelled as his licking and rubbing only grow in speed and desperation. Even after you’ve stopped grinding against him, Charlie tastes you like it’s his last chance, his hips bucking wildly into the cushion below. He eventually slows, but his tongue doesn’t stop, and you’re too overwhelmed to realize what’s happened.
It takes you whimpering from overstimulation and pulling Charlie back by his hair to make him stop, his mouth chasing you even after you’ve pressed your trembling thighs together, knees digging into his heaving chest. After a few seconds, he seems to blink back some clarity, swallowing heavily and shifting back awkwardly, cheeks flushed bright red. “Charlie?” you breathe, shakily pushing yourself into a sitting position. “Are you - oh.” Despite his quick maneuvering, the new angle allows you to see the slowly spreading wet spot at the front of his jeans.
“I-I’m so sorry,” Charlie squeaks out, trying to yank himself from the couch. “Let me just - fuck, uh - go to the bathroom or something and…” When he tries to cover his crotch with his hands, you bat them away, immediately reaching for the zipper and button on his pants. “W-what are you doing?” he asks but doesn’t stop you, even when you ease his sensitive and spent cock out from his stained underwear. His expression is pure shame as he quickly hardens in your grasp, hips bucking to escape the overstimulation of your fingers wrapped around him.
“Let me return the favor,” you tell him, tilting your head softly in silent questioning. He must only think of the wetness of your mouth on him since his blush deepens, cock twitching against your slick palm. You stroke him slowly and softly until he stutters out a yes, which you reply to with a widening grin, unknowing that he’s imagined this moment more than you could ever guess.
You lean down with a teasing imitation of his previous word and Charlie suddenly feels all of his wet dreams come true.
“I want you to cum on my tongue, okay?”
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