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mango-dolphin · 2 years

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what are your headcanons about the heroes :0? Ive asked this question to the other shield hero blogs and now its Your turn ):) normally i would ask for each separately but why do that when i can ask for all at once XD!!

ADMITTEDLY this is a broad enough question as to where i could be making headcanons about Any Such Thing !! i don't have too many headcanons yet but i can make shit up as i go honestly. i like questions that ask me somethin a lil more specific bUT ALSO I LOVE HAVING FREE RANGE AND PERMISSION TO GO APESHIT SO LIKE. IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER

hm. hmm. hmmmmmmmmmm. i'll just write whatever comes to my head right now!

General Headcanons

i'd like to think that each cardinal hero had a piece of media in their original world that resembled at least one of the other cardinal hero's lives:

Naofumi had this sleeper hit visual novel he introduced to his little brother as a way to get him into the medium: it presented itself as this dating simulator game about this university student and his complicated love life. As the game progresses and depending on the routes, it's slowly revealed that there is something amiss regarding the protagonist's life and how he interacts with the company he keeps. The game progresses into a psychological horror/thriller in some aspects—not really like Doki Doki Literature Club but y'know there was something going on there. Naofumi offhandedly mentioned that the game had a secret true ending that was overwhelmingly gay and his little brother called his bluff. The secret gay ending is real.

Itsuki seems like the type to strongly prefer escapist media, but I'd like to think an acquaintance at his private school happened to suggest a short and sweet manga to him that she thought he might find interesting. He decided to read it on a whim one day and was disgruntled to learn it was a Normie-verse (media where no one has powers) slice-of-life thing, but he had nothing better to do (had to wait for something) so he tried to finish it anyways. It was about this middle school prep student breaking down under the pressure that his parents were placing on him to succeed, trying desperately to find an outlet. In the midst of it all, his "slacker" older brother, who wasn't doing so hot in college at the time, took it upon himself to try and reconnect with his little brother and the two eventually start bonding over otaku culture. It was an incredibly heart-warming read but also it made Itsuki cry a little bit because he was very jealous of the main character. He wants an older brother like that so bad. he refuses to admit he liked the manga no matter what the girl who lent it says

Ren... I don't really have an elaborate one for him, unfortunately. The Cardinal Hero whose media he got would be Itsuki's by process of elimination, however! It'd probably be (by his world's standards) an older video game or anime of some kind, probably kind of BNHA-esque with those strong Golden Age comics inspirations. Maaaaybe it could've been something ongoing but got canceled? So Ren never learned how it was supposed to end.

Motoyasu seems like the type who doesn't always keep up with most popular media, or at the very least would hear about it from osmosis. If not that, he's probably right on top of popular things. Probably a mix of both? Incredibly on the pulse for some things, incredibly clueless on others, and it's random what he'll know and what he won't. He'd probably mostly get onto some stuff through his friends—probably was binging anime w/one of his best guy friends one night and what was on was this movie about a futuristic Japan. In particular, it was a split story between a criminal down on their luck but sank deeper into the underworld, as well as a reclusive high school student trying to get by. It wasn't that extreme of a movie, but for whatever reason the bloodier parts with the high schooler saving his friend perturbed Motoyasu a lot, to the point of walking out for a bit. His female friends at the time made fun of him for getting so squicked out at the movie.

i kiiiinda like the idea of the younger two of the cardinal heroes paralleling/being foils to the older two. Ren and Naofumi seem to have kinda similar outlooks (at least, the roots of them) as well as appearances; same with Itsuki and Motoyasu. they both even have the same age gap by year (naofumi & motoyasu are 4 years older than ren & itsuki respectively). There are lessons Ren & Itsuki can take from their older counterparts—both things they should avoid (naofumi's wrath and unwillingness to speak up, motoyasu's naivete and ignorance to the point of delusion) as well as things they can take with them (naofumi's proactive nature, tendency towards learning skills & self-improvement, and keeping and listening to good people around him; motoyasu's warm & friendly nature as well as his loyalty + mindedness towards the people immediately around him, rather than focusing on how he himself looks—listen he's being manipulated that doesn't excuse his idiocy and terrible judgement. but he does care about people and their PERSONAL LIVES in his own way, rather than itsuki doing good things because they're "morally just")

the cardinal heroes probably met up a lot outside of Naofumi (because, y'know, he was made a pariah), so they probably talked a bit more about stuff and got to know each other a teensy bit better. I'd like to think—and these would be conversations that happen much later, like brink of or after the Spirit Tortoise arc—the three of them all realized they all died, though they probably would question if Naofumi had died at all (as he seemed the most insistent on getting home). Ren also toyed with the idea that perhaps Naofumi didn't remember his death, so he perhaps still believed he had somewhere to go back to.

Itsuki mentioned his death first and regretted it immediately (ren and motoyasu lost it at the idea that itsuki got isekai'd the old-fashioned way). In comparison, Ren was very reluctant to mention the details of his own death, so he more or less set the stage and left it to interpretation. (Itsuki got frustrated that Ren appeared to have gone out like a hero and Ren didn't want to say anything.) Motoyasu likely lied about the exact details of his death and talked about the last few days he remembered, leading the other two to extrapolate that he got killed because of his womanizing. He'd later go on to admit that he didn't actually remember how exactly he died, but what he does remember is something he'd rather not think about.

(i also headcanon that they have scars from their deaths lol. ren's got that big stab/slice scar; motoyasu has several cuts and perforations throughout his stomach and abdomen, as well as stray stab marks on his chest; itsuki likely has some faint but permanent bruising on his backside & head)

Naofumi hears that the other three died and he'd be like What? I was kidnapped by a book. What???

Ren

gay, open about it; i'd like to think his Japan had progressed just as much in societal matters as it has technological. Japan doesn't have transphobia & homophobia the same way America (my country) does, so I'm not entirely sure how things over there would change, but nowadays from what I understand Japan is a lot more casual about people being gay than Americans are. SO there'd hopefully be far less judgement and expectation on a gay high schooler in Ren's Japan, for instance? so he can just be open and it wouldn't be a big deal.

(i also sincerely hope that Ren's Japan would have figured SOMETHING out for its atrocious bullying problem, but sadly i do think that it's wholly possible that it's still an issue. maybe not as bad as it is right now, but frankly almost anything would be an improvement considering how fucked up bullying can get over there. i can see ren's behavior stemming from even mild bullying but it's possible that he's Just Like That™.)

his best friend, the one that he saved and the one i'm assuming he played video games with? i think it'd be interesting if they were actually dating :3 but also my hc of "ren being openly gay" and "ren dating his best friend" might not necessarily line up. being open isn't a one-and-done thing, however, so it could more be a thing that ren was open back in his world (because he didn't have to hide), but ren probably knew enough about the rest of the world/medieval media to be like "maybe i should wait and see how people react to this kind of stuff <:|"

so ren probably has just never brought up his sexuality to anyone in this world. if he got the signal that it was safe to talk about it, he probably forgot that being temporarily closeted was a problem and would probably go around assuming that people knew he was gay, because that's his default—

i'd like to think that ren & his [boy]friend always wanted to move somewhere more natural and grassy—just somewhere with a lot of natural beauty. i know i said in my last post or so that he'd have the least amount of knowledge of the natural world, but i don't think that'd mean he wouldn't be interested in knowing more about it. maybe he and his friend would stay up some nights after some grinding sessions and just. talk about the future. moving to somewhere in the japanese countryside, or maybe somewhere untouched in europe.

he probably thinks about that sometimes while traveling melromarc.

i think this guy likes white chocolate. iunno.

listen. i try not to focus too hard on sexuality/romanticism headcanons because i think it's important to like. characterize folks outside of their romantic/sexual relationships. ships are really fun but also i wanna know about the Character Themself.

but sometimes it's very much a case of "i think their sexuality would inform their behavior and vice versa," even if the character themself sees their sexuality as a footnote. imo, ren just happens to be gay, sees himself as someone that happens to be gay, but his relationships and the people he knows/loves very much inform who he is. especially because he doesn't seem like the type of person to go out of his way to establish relationships of any kind.

so like. if he has a boyfriend, that's a big thing. and having a boyfriend in practice isn't interchangeable with having a girlfriend—especially if you're the same gender as your partner(s). so me headcanoning him being gay is like. he cares about someone deeply, and that someone is a guy, and he would not love him as much if he were a girl. the relationship would fundamentally be different then. Gayboy.

Naofumi

i'd like to think he was still a chill older brother sort of guy before getting summoned. after breaking down his little brother's walls their relationship probably got real close again. i could see naofumi teasing him a lot and him being teased by his brother a lot

i've mentioned it before but i think naofumi would read a lot of doujinshi. i don't mean like the Explicit Stuff but like. i think he'd be our equivalent of scrolling through AO3 and reading literally whatever caught his eye, or even whatever popped up (because he's bored). he'd be the sort of person who'd read fanfic/doujinshi of media he hasn't even read before. i think he'd just be a voracious reader in general

this is ALSO scattered about my posts & tags but i think Naofumi is some flavor of asexual and some flavor of biromantic / greyromantic. i'm going to make this even funnier and say that he still reads explicit shit anyways. he's like "ok nice." doesn't even blink. it's a story what does he have to say except they're fucking.

FORGOT TO MENTION i don't think he'd use labels either. if someone asked his orientation i think he'd be like "eh. i don't really care"

i don't think he's really dated anyone, at least for very long. he does experience some aesthetic attraction but that's about it. and even then it's like "oh, they look nice. aight" and he forgets about it. apparently he describes how good motoyasu looks in the LN a lot though so maybe he's more into aesthetics than i thought. i can definitely see it

i'd like to think Naofumi started a little garden in Luroluna alongside all the fields that exist. there's probably a little section where he does some funky plant experiments (mostly trying to make more resilient and/or delicious food) and tries to branch (ha) his skill tree out, and there could be a larger part where he puts some of his more successful plants out and lets the public do what they wish with them. There's probably a tinier section where he made some fucked up little guys but since they weren't malignant plants and/or not difficult to manage, he kept them around. People are allowed to experiment with those fuck-ups as well as long as they're responsible.

i'd like to think he fell asleep in chicken coops several times. mostly as a kid but also probably once or twice in luroluna as well. filo probably tries to snuggle up with him in there also and it suffocates him--

(i think about him being an animal friend so often you guys)

admittedly i think Naofumi's always been kind of an introvert, even before getting summoned. he seems like the type of person who prefers to do his own thing, but very much appreciates company anyways. he does have some pretty good leadership skills (apparently he ran a guild in a video game back home) so i don't think he exceptionally dislikes people on average, and in fact can get along VERY very well with folks—he just values his personal space is all

Motoyasu (discussion of abuse below)

my friend. my dear friend motoyasu. i like him a lot (this is not a headcanon i just wanted to say that i like him)

i think this man has trauma. i think this man has illnesses. i think there's a lot going on with him and i'm kind of obsessed. i'm reluctant to go in depth with what i think is going on w/him because i fear how my headcanons/readings might be taken on this character, especially as he's the least popular of the cardinal heroes. (at least, from what i could observe on tumblr FJKNSEFJKENS maybe he's more well-liked elsewhere!) anywho, i tried explaining a teensy bit of what i felt anyways, so hopefully what i intended to explain came across properly?

however i don't think his naivete (particularly his gullibility towards women) is... natural? as in, i don't think it's just something he was born with or anything. i think it had to have come from somewhere, and it's likely that it's a behavior he learned from previous relationships. he doesn't have a hero complex to the extent itsuki does, but it's clear that he views himself as someone who has to take on the burden of saving the women around him. which is like, any dude can have that sort of savior complex i guess, and it can be Incredibly Annoying™ if not other things.

but i'm combining this w/the fact that he'll believe the closest woman to him no questions asked is like... that is dangerously self-destructive behavior. this dude can have a spine so the fact that he'd let someone take advantage of him that easily, to the point where he essentially slots into that role (he believed Myne's false testimony first word no questions no doubts and just let her pull him around every which way)... you can't convince me that motoyasu hasn't been abused by a partner (specifically a girlfriend) before, if not several. i'm sorry you just can't

combine that with what we apparently learn from his backstory in the spin-off series and it's like. Dear god. Dear god if he's had to deal with female friends like that (ones who'd rather him die than be with another girl, even if it's a "i want us to die together" kind of deal), entitled to his own emotions in that way? people don't just randomly decide to stab their crush, the girls crushing on him probably treated him in other ways of entitlement (even if they were incredibly subtle), though ofc we don't know the situation for sure. like yeah motoyasu should've been more assertive and tried to talk things out, but girls. shouldn't be pulling knives on people and murdering them idk what to say. even if motoyasu might have been dating several people at once (the wiki doesn't elaborate so idk the context), he shouldn't be like. murdered over it

i do think the savior schtick as well as the flirting in general may have at some point been a front he put on (the skirt-chasing & flirtiness before the heroic schtick anyways) that he kind of just subsumed into his identity. i can see his fondness for angels (and later his tangential obsession over filolials) coming from wanting to embody the heroism angels are meant to have. angels are meant to Save, and idk. maybe he wanted someone to save him. maybe he felt like he had to be a savior to the women in his life. shrugs. he doesn't seem like the type to think he'd be able to get trauma i think he'd ignore it like the rest of his problems

anyways your early 20s is a great time for more overt symptoms of schizoaffective disorders to pop up so like. i think after getting hit w/that Big Traumatic Betrayal by Myne (as well as anime logic) i can see the personality/reality shift he experiences post-Curse Shift to have finally rattled that sort of thing out of hiding from him. him starting to see most women as Literal Pigs is what put the nail in the coffin for this hc of mine. like. uhhh

the Curse Series may be a defense mechanism for psychological trauma, but a lot of mental illness is more or less the brain trying to comprehend the world around it in specific ways. so honestly the Curse Series (and working your way through it) could very much be seen as an allegory for coming face to face with your trauma—learning how to embrace it, but also learning how to accept it and to not let it overtake you. depression can rob a lot of sensation from you (i personally stopped feeling many emotions at all), so Naofumi losing his sense of taste after Myne's betrayal didn't surprise me one bit.

Motoyasu was already straight up accepting/leaning into delusions the longer he spent in this world, being fed lies and such by Myne and the king & likely other royals, so having to come to grips with all of that ALONGSIDE later being humiliated (being forced to see how shit of a job he did as a Hero) and betrayed AGAIN by Myne... yeah. i'm not surprised he broke, and broke that hard. i personally don't even think the Pig Thing was caused by the Curse Series; again, i think it was an underlying mental illness finally rearing its head, and the Curse Series fed into it.

from what i heard motoyasu likes to make his own clothes or something? idr the exact tidbit. but if it's not canon that's certainly my headcanon. Art Student Moment.

mentioned before in some tags that i think motoyasu could be hypersexual? at the very least after unlocking his Curse Series he might have started experiencing its symptoms more and more. tfw the trauma

also mentioned in those same tags that i think motoyasu could probably be pansexual or omnisexual. i still don't really know. both could fit him. but i could also see him just never deciding on a label, nor using one.

i think, in spite of how melromarc royals/the church might have felt about it, motoyasu would probably think demihumans were really cool. i think he'd really want to befriend some and even put a few on his party, but i could see Myne/other teammates refusing or even bullying them out of the party behind his back altogether. i genuinely don't see why motoyasu would want to discriminate against them (he'd see them as people who happen to have animal features, which is SO COOL!), even if others tried to manipulate him. they could tell him that therianthropes are disgusting and greedy and evil and he'd be like "aight!" and then he meets one and is like "yo this is my homie actually. i like her" and myne would have to remind him that she's a therianthrope and motoyasu would be like "But she's epic"

I THINK THIS IS MY FUNNIEST HEADCANON ACTUALLY. "i think motoyasu wouldn't be racist." THIS IS LIKE. SUCH AN UNNECESSARY HEADCANON TO HAVE.

i'm sorry i was just thinking about it. it's so funny that motoyasu has a really low tolerance for alcohol. he probably can't handle spicy food either, but would be the kind of person who'd try repeatedly to show off and eat incredibly spicy food anyways. he'd cry so much

(abuse mentions done btw)

Itsuki

he probably feels so cool about being the only Hero with natural powers i'm ngl. he's probably tried to show off to ren & motoyasu before and he felt SO COOL. ren thought it was impressive and very fitting as a bow hero. motoyasu was also impressed and asked itsuki a few technical questions (something that caught the both of them off guard), and as Itsuki answered more and more he started to get self-conscious again. eventually Motoyasu was like "wow, that's really cool, but it sounds like you don't use it for very many applications. That kind of sucks." it made itsuki really mad, especially after motoyasu (in his dense-headed glory) suggested a few ways to use his powers (and then ren started adding on and refining those suggestions). however after he stormed off he thought about it and was like "y'know what. that would be an interesting way to use my power. alright"

(in retrospect he's still kind of upset that Motoyasu was the one to start suggesting stuff, especially out of the blue, especially after how idiotic he began to act when the church stuff started to ramp up, but he's also... incredibly thankful. Ren offered more advice as well but he wasn't always easy to reach)

perhaps has always had an interest in art and artistic endeavors, but may have felt pressured by Hero Stuff™ and honing his powers to really pursue that kind of thing. may just be because of the trinket he used to get rishia off his team, but i think he'd be a huge fan of jewelrymaking, naofumi should give him some pointers

i'd like to think that even though he faced a lot of bullying in his prestigious school, there might have been a handful of people who cared about him and wanted to get to know him + see him succeed. in particular, crossing a bit into OC territory, but i think it would be neat if there was a girl in the top class who resembled Rishia somewhat (at least, physically at first). so like, this girl would be great at most everything, would be incredibly humble about it, would be the best damn hero Itsuki's ever met. and he'd be green with envy. but this girl would also think itsuki was pretty cool and try to reach out to him, a lot. (she'd be the girl who gave itsuki that manga i rambled about in the General Headcanons thing).

getting to know this girl would (he assumed) be a bit of an in to the strongest people in the school, but turns out that she tries to surround herself w/decent people, so a lot of the people she hangs out with would be people itsuki might consider losers? anyways, this is about itsuki so we're talking about him—i think he would've admired her a lot, but his anger at himself and his own inadequacy might have caused him to lash out at her. (maybe after she saved him from something.) itsuki didn't run out into the street and die Right There, but he definitely died a few days later. that girl probably would've been kinda fucked up hearing about his death, idk if she'd crush on him or anything but. yo. that was a classmate. they were getting so close, too

following that, rishia didn't remind itsuki of Her at first until he took a closer glance and realized they looked a bit similar. so he probably felt really proud to be able to save her for once... then when rishia started doing more heroic things, it ripped out all of itsuki's insecurities and complexes full-force. sorry king about your cringe

i think itsuki is an only child. fuck i didn't talk about this w/the other characters too did i? i think they're all only children except for naofumi, they all exhibit Only Child behavior. except maybe ren. i could see ren being a middle child as well actually

itsuki probably knew a lot about archery before getting summoned, as it'd be a straightforward way to exhibiting his powers. i wouldn't be surprised if he was a bit of a gunsman too—japan has incredibly strict gun laws, but his japan could be different (especially as people have powers there).

probably a cat person. i can see it with my own eyes.

EDIT i did it for the other heroes and i forgot to do it for itsuki & kizuna. mentioned it before, but I think Itsuki would think he's straight and would try not to put too much thought/stock into it. He'd probably actually be bi, but prefer women. he's young tho and wouldn't seem very decided about it so he probably thinks it's something that he shouldn't mess around with too much. he might think liking boys would be another thing he could be bullied about so it's an idea he'd prefer to avoid. Sorry about diagnosing him with internalized homophobia. (i don't think i even gave motoyasu internalized homophobia i think i just made him clueless)

Kizuna

i don't have very many headcanons for her but honorary mention!

queerplatonic partners with Glass. i think they're about the same age, Glass is probably 19 or something. Age aside, prove me wrong

i can see kizuna having pet birds. maybe a couple finches. when Kris popped out she probably got REAL excited (PENGY!!! PENGY!!!!!!!!!)

i bet this bitch loves boba too actually. has probably tried to recreate it a few times with mixed results

as i mentioned w/itsuki, i forgot to talk about a sexuality headcanon when i did it for everyone else. I see her as aroace, or at least on the asexual spectrum!

haha speaking of spectrum. (hits her with the autism ray) why not. special interest is fishing why the hell not. we can give her the autisms. she certainly gives me the vibes. tism to tism communication

#mango japery #small-spark-of-light #shield hero #headcanon #my writing #mango's writing #naofumi iwatani #ren amaki #motoyasu kitamura #itsuki kawasumi #kizuna kazayama #writing #theory #I HOPE YOU ENJOYED these were longer than i thought they'd be but they still aren't very many headcanons to me #yeah i get. kinda crazed about this stuff #i could write novels about characters i have more thoughts on #these guys are just new to me. but i liek them :]#abuse mention #ask to tag #spinning motoyasu around in my brain i'm so worried about that guy. i'm so worried about that freak #but also i am very scared about how that might be received #i feel conflicted (if not uncomfortable) with how the wikia talks about motoyasu's delusions so #i don't know how respectful shield hero itself is about mental health issues #i think i saw the r slur in one page screenshot though (said by naofumi) but there wasn't any context so i was like #<:|............... i don't know how they're gonna handle this homies........#i'll have to read the manga/light novel to make up my mind #but motoyasu clearly needs help and i'm worried that the series might be treating his problems as a joke #if there are no motoyasu fans i am no longer alive on this earth etc etc #keep him away from filo tho.

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swordheld · 8 months

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from the introduction to "the sovereign sun" selected poems by odysseus elytis, trans. and introduction by kimon friar. [id in alt text]

#poetry.#kimon friar.#odysseus elytis.#ancient greek poetry.#rereading the sovereign sun as summer sweeps to a close and this stuck out so lovingly.#i remember finding this book tucked away in a small and unfrequented section of my library a handful of years ago.#it swept something in me / something ancient and full of light.#i had to find my own used copy as soon as i realized i couldn't keep it / mark it as my own. there is such love taken into it?#the translation of so much intimate glory and understanding of the universe / of life? the attempt of it.#it feels crafted so carefully. the importance something that could not be understated? i return to it every couple of years -#to reignite that spark. the language in it is just. spellbinding. it reminds me of a warm breeze at twilight / where the light is dim /#and everything feels possible in a way it was not before.#might post more of my favourites !!! just had to share this ending piece of the introduction 💕

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starryvomit · 26 days

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“the notebook” - nicholas sparks.

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beybladeninja · 2 months

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(Tumblr, whhhhhhhyyyyy?)

Anyways, time for the High Prince himself!

Here's Rashad!

Rashad is the God of Light. As patron of all things bright, he quite literally has the brightest personality amongst the gods. He’s always smiling and always looking for a way to bring light so someone’s day. While he’s not afraid to lay down the holy law, he mostly prefers to look on the bright side of things. His enthusiasm can be blinding, literally and metaphorically, to both mortals and fellow gods.

His job is to bring light to the world, and chase away the shadows. For this purpose, he is often seen as the ultimate defense against evil, and his name is often invoked in the face of danger as a form of protection. His light can purify the darkest of souls and stand strong against the blackest of shadows. It’s for this reason that he’s widely hated by the Dark Gods, Phi, the God of Darkness, especially.

But Rashad is also associated with children. Everyone is born with a little spark of light within them, a potential to do great things. Rashad is the one that gives them that light, that potential. When a child is born, Rashad creates a spark for that particular child, tailored to what he views them as. As the child grows, they discover the purpose of that light and nurture it to the best of their abilities. Those who fully embrace their spark and use it to help others are known as the Children of Rashad; those who ignore their spark and take another path are known as Wayward Children, and Rashad will always grieve for them in his heart.

What do you think of God Rashad?

And spread your wings, because Hoji is up next!

To keep the list going, who do you want to see as a god next?

Also, I have Illiya and Bashara on the list because I’d feel guilty if I didn’t include them, but I’m having trouble deciding on what they would be the gods of. What do you think they should be?

#beyblade #fanart #beyburst #my art #alternate universe #beyblade burst #god universe #rashad goodman #high Prince #light #spark #beyblade burst quaddrive #small question

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northwestofinsanity · 9 months

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Heads up that if there’s WiFi in the service department lobby I’ll be camping in tomorrow, I’m probably going to spam reblog at some point while I wait to find out whatever the hell’s got my car acting weird all of a sudden. (If not, shameless fanfic writer time…)

#delete later #Insanitypost #pardon my insanity #it’s either spark plugs or transmission #the latter of which could be minor or catastrophic #i can still go in reverse just fine and don’t have any lights on or burning smells #so if it is transmission maybe it’s something small and easy?#acceleration just suddenly got WAY harder than it should be (more so at higher speeds -I barely notice it in the city)#so I’m taking a LONG slow ride out on the back roads to avoid cranking it on the highway #lest I put strain on it and do damage that would be harder to fix #99% certain I’m gonna cry even if it’s not bad though #It’s been a really stressful week driving *really* delicately to orientation and fearing it might break down before I get there tomorrow #and I’m gonna be sweating bullets the whole way until I pull up in that lot

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bunny-rambles · 2 years

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sigh

it’s like burnout is a literal disease

I want to write but somethings just not letting me.

Nothings inspiring and I can’t think of anything

Ig if you read this, maybe send me some ideas you have any and if I’m feeling inspired by them I’ll write something

I’m just really,,, lost and stuck with my writing at the moment.

#bun speaks #anything #brain rot or full requests or just small thoughts #i just need something to light the spark so to speak

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enabi-seira · 6 months

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I'm feeling kind of overwhelmed atm... Too many things going on around me, some are falling down, my own self steem is in the ground... So it's a bit of a surprise to check the inbox of my "almost forgotten" AO3 account and find oh so many replies from this fantastic writers!

The memory of those stories is making me so emotional right now...

One day. One day I'll get back to them. Just be prepared for that time 'cause I plan on leaving a flood of comments and love. It may take a while though...

#seriously. i've said this many times. this is not my best year by far... but i feel a small spark in me #it might be just a tiny little flicker of light among all the dark that's been creeping up. but it's still there. i feel it #and i think it's starting to light up #the squirrel is finally moving?

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augustinewrites · 6 months

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dress + nanami

“i bought you something.”

you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.

“but i didn’t get you anything…”

he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”

memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.

“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.”

“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”

“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”

nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,

you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.

“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit.

simple, yet elegant, like him.

“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”

“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?”

your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.

but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.

“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his.

the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you.

so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress.

and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.

“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.”

nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.

he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so.

“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”

he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate.

nanami’s always been a patient man—

he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.

— except when he’s not.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #nanami fluff #[—augustine’s two year celebration!]

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omgeto · 7 months

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☆ R U GONNA STAY THE NIGHT? — fratboy!GETO SUGURU

summary:geto suguru, 'top dog' on campus, is used to ploughing through all the ditzy little freshmen without any concern for their feelings. but now his biggest challenge, is you, and it's not getting you in his bed, its getting you to stay in it.

wc: 4k (look guys I did it)

cw: afab!reader, all types of fucking, masturbation, you ride his dick, you ride his face, he gives you like two spanks, he's kinda whiny but then at the same time not. you both think you're the boss of this situationship and you are both wrong. MDNI slight angst if you squint, or maybe angst angst idk

an: first fic in 10 days, is this what you call a comeback? idk but I hope you enjoy whatever this is I TRIED OKAY I TRIED! Also thanks bae @kazushawty for betaing some and bullying me in our chats

sleeping with a frat bro wasn’t on your to do list during your freshman year, but there is something about geto suguru that you just can’t shake. you thought that you were one of many, after hearing all the rumours about him that spread throughout campus and that didn’t phase you as long as he could get you off, you didn’t care what else he did. but little did you know he is all about you and he is finally gonna let that be known tonight.

"excuse me," a whisper brushes against your ear, a deep, low hum that sends shivers down your spine. hands press lightly on your waist, shifting you ever so slightly. you glance over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing when you realise there is more than enough room for the person to pass. it's geto suguru, and you shoot him a withering glare.

"what's the problem?" he asks, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he observes the hard look you're giving him. but instead of answering, you simply turn away, refusing to acknowledge his presence.

geto, undeterred by your cold response, takes a step closer. his presence is magnetic, and you can feel the heat of his body inches from yours. the music pulses around you, the crowd dancing and laughing, but all you can focus on is him.

“y’know me” he leans in, his breath warm against your ear, and his voice drops to a seductive murmur. "can’t resist the opportunity to get a little closer to you."

“oh fuck off geto,” you hiss, but your words had no real bite, you move your elbow to try and deter him but his stance remains fixed behind you.

“you’re a hard woman to please,” he sighs, with mock sadness, “but as frat president i can’t have one of my party guest having a bad time at one of my parties can i?”

“maybe you just aren’t trying hard enough,” you retort quickly, finally turning around to face him head on, a teasing smirk appearing on your face, “what would you know about pleasing me?”

“i think we both know what i know about pleasing you,” he offers his hand out, “c’mon let me show you a good time.” you hesitate, seeing the spark in his eyes and he puts his hand out further, urging you to take it. you close your eyes swiftly, taking a deep breath before letting him drag you into the crowd of people.

geto hand remains a reassuring hold as he drags you through the sea of intoxicated dancers. he pulls you into him, his dick already bricked up as brings it to your ass, your turn your head and raise your eyebrow, and he flashes a smile in return his hands sliding down to hold your hips as he starts to gyrate against you. you quickly match his pace, throwing back your ass, your hips swaying in time with geto and the music.

he places his hand at the small of your back, forcing you to bend slightly, as he widens his stance and forces his body into your further. your mouth parts, at the contact, and you smile at the feeling — geto suguru actually has rhythm. he’s quick to pull you up, peppering light kisses against your face as he grinds into you.

his arm hooks around your neck in a gentle but firm hold, as he bends down to your ear, his lips whispering words only meant for you, as he continues to rub his clothed dick in the crook of your ass. geto manoeuvres his hands up and down your body, his fingers teasingly toying with your tits, as he explores all you, right on the dance floor.

you could feel the heat between your legs grow, so you pull away from geto turning around to face him, his hands coming down to hold you close to him as if he was afraid you'd run away. “not bad huh?” he asks, knowing that you feel the exact same as he does, you both didn’t even notice all the eyes on you, as the crowd of partygoers just witnessed you almost fuck on the dance floor.

before you could even respond, you could feel the wind being knocked out of you as a broad chest collides right into you. geto keeps you upright, so you don’t fall on your ass and places you behind him as he steps to the person responsible for almost knocking you over.

as the fog of the moment clears, you see the cause of the commotion—gojo satoru, geto's best friend, is in a blissful state of drunkenness, a wide grin plastered across his face.

"heeeeyy, suguru," gojo greets loudly, his bleary eyes darting between the two of you. "is this you, yeah?" his words slur slightly, but it's clear he's trying to figure out the situation. geto doesn't respond verbally, but the subtle smirk on his face and the bashful look on yours speak volumes. "you know what we could do to make this night greater," gojo announces with an exaggerated flourish.

geto sighs, on a usual day he’s all up for entertaining his friend but tonight all he wants to do is entertain you. “what is it satoru?”

“shots!” he cheers, looking around the room to be completely ignored, in too much of a drunken state to even notice, “c’mon sugu, you love shots, you can even bring this pretty little thing you’ve got with you.” he finishes, gojo’s eyes linger on you a little too long as he sizes you up, his bottom lip pulling into his teeth and all you could do is raise your eyebrows up at him, puzzled.

“bro,” geto commands, and gojo’s eyes snap to his friends as he raises his hand in mock surrender, “just take us to the fucking shots.” the subtle tension between the two guys didn't go unnoticed by you, but you brush it off, chalking it up to frat boys being frat boys.

it was soon forgotten anyways, with you sprawled across a table of the frat house, drunken partygoers jeering at you as your shirt is half pulled up just stopping at your breast and gojo is cheering as he’s sprinkles salt on you and lines your stomach with shots.

“care to do the honours,” gojo taunts geto as he finishes pouring the final shot. geto sends a glare his way ignoring him as he makes his way over to you, giving you a long stripe of his tongue down your stomach, before quickly downing all the shots on your stomach, his eyes stuck on you. gojo offers him a lime, which he snatches straight out of his hands. gojo tuts, shaking his head, “someones touchy.” and just to add fuel to the fire, gojo has his own lick at your stomach, more slower and sensual then geto’s was, and he pours himself a shot, giving you a wink as he drinks it.

“what the fuck man?” geto interrogates, stepping to his friend, slightly wobbling as the shots he just backed in swift succession, hit him quickly.

“what’s wrong suguru?” gojo teases with a playful grin, he wasn’t dumb he knew who you were before he even saw you, geto talks about you all the time. so when gojo finally saw you with him, with geto still downplaying how he hard he actually fucks with you, he couldn’t help but fuck with his friend a bit, “you jealous?”

“don’t even start with me ‘toru,” geto warns, and you begin to sit up with an eye roll, you couldn’t deny you were a bit tipsy, but no amount of alcohol could make you bear to see this lame exchange of fray boy bravado.

“oh whats your issue man,” gojo brushes him off, going to pour himself another drink, but geto is hot on his tails. “bro we literally always share the hot freshmen, what makes her any different.”

“because she just is,” geto snaps, in an attempt of a hush tone but you hear him loud and clear.

“i think i’m going to go,” you say out loud, and geto hears you pausing, slightly panicked. forgetting all about gojo his focus back onto you.

“no no, you don’t have to leave, we were having a good time right?” he stammers, rushing to persuade you stay. you couldn’t deny that you were having a good time, geto suguru is actually fun to be around, and the way he was staring at you, begging for you just stay with him, hits you right in your core. he pulls you close to him as he murmurs to you, “i know you felt what i felt when we were dancing, just give me a chance and like i said earlier i could really show you a good time. if you let me.”

geto just wanted to get you alone, he could see that the heavy noise of the club was clearly not your vibe, but he couldn’t let you leave just yet. he offers out his hand just like he did at the start of the party, but this time you didn’t hesitate to take it. letting him cart you off upstairs as you both ignore that wolf whistles coming from gojo, “you better get some suguru, go and get some for the both of us!”

when you get up into geto’s room, you try to disregard the slew of people strung out in different rooms across the house. but geto was confident, he had no reason not to be with you in his arms, wanting him just as badly as he wants you.

“c’mere,” he beckons you, as he sits down, patting down his thigh. you happily skip over to him, perching yourself right on his thigh, your arms hooking around his neck, your hands clasping together, locking him in. you face inches closer to his, your lips part ready to taste him but he halts you, smirking as he says “you're cute, y’know that right?”

“how so?” you ask, entertaining him with an eye roll.

“you always sit in class with me, trying to act all bothered by my presence,” he comments, “but turns out all it takes is for you to come to one of my parties, and for you to dance with me, to get you cumming in my lap… literally.”

“are we gonna fuck?” you say bluntly, catching him off guard, “or are you gonna continue to talk nonsense.” even though he wasn’t talking nonsense, he was right, tonight really did change your perspective on geto. but you weren’t dumb he was the president of the frat, and his best friend gojo’s comments earlier only further cemented the type of people frat guys are.

you press your lips against his before he has a chance to respond, your tongue darting in his mouth as he moulds into you. one of his hands works its way down your body whilst the other stays caressing your face. you groan against him, driving yourself against his thigh, your clothed cunt, already dripping just from the friction alone.

“you getting off on my thigh yeah?” he teases between kisses, and you nod, desperately pushing yourself into him. he hikes you up further, his lips still moving in tandem with yours, and he spreads you into lap so you could properly straddle him. you both had quick movements, both of you are needy and wanting of the other. geto’s hands slide down your back and keep your ass in a firm hold as you begin to rock against him.

geto pulls away from you, his lips already plump from the way you’ve been gnawing at them. you pout at the removal but he laughs, “patience, princess.” but you ignore him your hands darting into his pants, ready to free his dick and land it, but he places his hand on your wrist, his eyebrows raising in warning, “what did i just say?”

“to take out your dick and sit on it right?” you shrug coyly, chuckling at your joke, and he smiles, but the warning in his eyes doesn’t leave.

“strip,” he commands, the single word having you folding like a chair, as you fling off your clothes leaving you in your underwear. he pulls you by the waistband of you panties, ripping them off you in one swift motion, biting his lip as he’s met with your wet pussy. “she’s so pretty,” he comments, flicking at your clit and as he slides his finger down your slit, just about to enter he pauses, putting his finger in his mouth instead of in you. he swirls it around his tongue, “sweet.”

“suguru,” you whine, at his teasing, “this isn’t funny.”

“play with yourself,” he says, disregarding whatever you were saying.

“what happened to you giving me a good time,” you argue.

“c’mon show me how bad you want it,” he persuades with a grin, leaning back, waiting for you to put on a show for him, “i’ll make it worth your while.”

despite everything, you could just never tell geto, no. it’s the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, how he carries himself. with how he is just leaning back in his bed, his eyes low in anticipation as he waits for you to pleasure yourself for him, exciting you to do whatever he wants.

your hand works its way down to your pussy, your thumb landing on your clit rubbing against it as your finger part your sobbing cunt, letting geto see how wet you really are for him. “f-fuck,” you moan out, as you push your fingers inside of you, your eyes clenching shut at the contact.

“oi,” geto calls out to you, your eyes opening and landing on him, “keep your eyes on me. okay?” and you nod, as you quicken your pace, watching as geto palms his dick at your performance.

“this is boring,” you complain as you continue to rub at your pussy, trying your best to reach your climax on your own, “need your fingers, need your di—”

“keep going,” he orders, smirking, he could tell by the way your stance weakens and your legs tremble, that you were close. you were predictable and even though you were hungry for his dick, he knew you’d be able to cum with just your fingers and his eyes on you. call him cocky, but the influence he had over you was unmatched.

you roll your eyes at him, but you listen, continuing to finger yourself as he told you. your mouth parts, and you exhale feeling yourself about to cum, you push your digits in you harder, and your eyes stay fixated on geto and he shrugs his shoulders letting you do as you please—for once. you moan loudly as you cum all over your fingers, releasing hard as you spill out all down your thighs.

“see wasn’t so hard was it?” he taunts, pulling out his dick that has been hard from the moment he saw you at the party. he gives it a few strokes, pre cum oozing from the tip and you hungrily pounce on him, your pussy still dripping with your cum as you hover over his dick. you pause before sliding down on him, hissing at the feeling of you stretching you wide. “fuck man,” he groans out as he feels you clench over him, “your shit’s so tight.”

you bounce up and down on him, as he thrusts up into you, his hips hitting yours in a hard flurry of repeated connections. you press your hands flat on his chest, as his hands stay cupping your ass, keeping you upright as he drills into you.

his pace is unmatched, as you try and keep up, grinding your pussy down on him, desperate to have him stuff you up even more. “sugu ‘ts too much, f-fuck you’re relentless.”

“c-cant help it,” he stammers, still maintaining his merciless strokes, his dick twitching inside of you, “your pussy is just too good, or should i say my pussy,” he finishes with a wink.

“y-your pussy?” you retort, laughing at his seriousness.

“yeah it’s mine right?” he interrogates, sending a slap to your ass to prompt further confirmation, “tell me it’s mine.” you don’t respond, a teasing smile spreading across your face, as you stare down at him, still riding his dick. but geto pauses, halting your movements and he slightly eases you up off of his dick, “what was that?” he prompts.

“it’s yours,” you give in quickly, not even bothering to entertain it any further with how needy you are to cum, “of course it's yours.” satisfied, geto charges his dick back into you with no warning, and you immediately go back to pushing your ass down on him, spreading your legs wider to straddle him more, taking him in deeper.

“t-that’s all i needed to hear,” he stutters, feeling himself about to cum, so he gives you a few sloppy thrusts before easing you off of him, cumming all over your stomach. you're quick to follow, your cum spraying his sheets, as you slump over him, dripping down on his body. “i made sure to not cum in you this time, i know how angsty you get over that shi.”

“oh how gentlemanly of you,” you deadpan, “all gives love a stomach covered in salt and semen.”

“well what would you prefer? your pussy filled with my cum,” he taunts, smirking as you still, “i know i would.” you didn’t answer pulling your sticky body away from his, as you come down off of your high.

“are you gonna stay the night?” geto asks with a grin it was like clockwork, everytime you finish fucking he’d always ask the same question, never getting bored when you mutter the same tired words.

“you know i don’t sleep in frat houses suguru.”

he shrugs casually, propping himself up on his elbows and admiring your naked figure. "you fuck in them though," he remarks, as if that justified everything, "so what's the difference?"

rolling your eyes, as you begin to do the laborious task of trying to locate your underwear—geto always had the habit of throwing them across the room. "the difference is," you pause, looking over your shoulder at him, "I can wake up tomorrow in my own bed, feeling just a little less gross for even fucking you in the first place."

a mock expression of hurt crosses his face as he crawls up behind you on the bed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. "oh, how you wound me, princess," he coos, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "just stay."

“no, i shouldn’t” you argue, letting out an exhale as his lips attach to your collarbone, sucking against your skin, pulling and nipping at it with his teeth.

you try to distract yourself by putting on your bra but geto is quick to fling it off you, his mouth trailing down to your tits peppering kisses all over your nipples, murmuring “stay” between each kiss.

he takes your boob into his mouth, sucking on its flesh as his other hand toys with the other, massaging your nipples with just enough roughness to have you writhing in his palms. your back arches involuntarily, your tits pushing further into his touch, aching to feel him further, “see,” he smirks as he toys with you, “you do wanna stay.”

“i won’t, if you keep talking” you warn, gritting your teeth as he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “now c’mere, convince me on why i should stay,” you lift his head off your tits with your fingers, eyeing him down as he stares back at you with pure lust in his eyes. you press a kiss to his lips before steering his head down towards your pussy.

“since when do you run things?” he doesn’t budge, his eyebrows slightly raise as he chuckles.

“you’re the one that wants me to stay, no?” you counter, your eyes locked with his.

“well what i want is for you to come sit on my face and my head can stay sandwiched between your thighs, how about that?” his grin widens as your mouth parts, speechless. he tugs you by the arm close to the head of the bed, you climb up his body your pussy still wet from he fucked you before, leaking out your juices all over his chest. “so hop on girl, a man’s gotta eat,” he mutters impatiently, smacking your ass to urge you onto his lips.

he takes you in hungrily, his mouth enclosing on your pussy with such greed that he is practically drowning in your scent. he laps at your cunt, his tongue giving such long, deep strokes which have your hands pressing against the walls, grinding down on his face.

geto grips and claws at your ass, he grins, his nose burying into your pussy as your thighs clench tighter around his head. “s-sshit suguru,” your hands slap against the wall as you squeal out, trying to grasp at something to keep you afloat, as the way geto is working your pussy and how his fingers dig into your ass cheeks, has you buckling over about to topple off of him.

he hums against your pussy, the vibrations jolting right through you, having you moan even louder. his tongue darts against your clit, swirling at it vigorously, nipping at it lightly with his teeth.

“sugu i—” you pant, trying to ease off of him, the pleasure getting too much for you, but his hands stroke both your thighs keeping them in place. “bout to cum sugu.”

you could hear him mumble something, you didn’t care what, but the two taps he gave to your thigh let you know you could release all over him. you cry out as you cum, feeling yourself spill out all over his face. geto continues to eat you up, drinking in everything he can take, his chin getting covered by what he couldn’t swallow.

“you are way too good at that.” you gasp as you slowly come up off his face, your breathing still laboured.

“only the best for you princess,” he jests with his eyes half open, a blissful smile on his lips as his tongue swipes at the remains of you left on his face.

“yeah me and all the other freshmen you fuck,” you mutter, to yourself but he heard you loud and clear.

“what was that?” he urges, wanting you to repeat your claims. before you started fucking geto, you knew he was and what he was about and technically you didn’t care, you only wanted him for his mouth game—which proved to be very useful. but when he tries to sweet talk you you couldn’t help but be reminded of what kind of guy he is.

“i think you heard me,” you shrug, “i’m saying it to insult you or anything, i'm just telling the truth. you like to fuck everbody and everything.”

“wait? is this why you won’t stay the night?” he says, sitting up, staring you down.

“you must be only a pretty face, if you thought otherwise,” you laugh at his shock.

“no it’s just i think its crazy that you just won’t stay,” he complains, glaring at you as you put back on your clothes, “we could get to know each other properly.”

“like we agreed when we first started messing around,” you cringe, pitying the pouty look on his face. “let’s just… keep this casual”

“but that was ages ago,” he tries to reason, “some may say you’re just using me for sex.”

“suguru we use each other for sex,” you respond quickly, you step towards him pressing a peck on his pouty lips, with a smirk on your face as you see his lips chasing yours as you pull away, “well i'm gonna go now, i’m sure i’ll see you at one of your many lame parties you and your people always throw. it’s been fun as always” geto raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement, blowing out a hard breath, as he watches you strut out of his bedroom.

“she’ll stay the night eventually.” he murmurs to himself, maybe it’s wishful thinking, but a guy can dream.

AN: she’s only gone and done it. but yeah how was it guys 🥺? There’s only two lines in this whole fic that I actually thought “damn I cooked here” if you guess the lines you win a reward. ALSO IDK WHY I WAS DROPPING HINTS AT SOME GOJO ON SOME MR STEAL UR GIRL TYPE SHIT but I just went with it. But geto is sooo sweet HE JUST WANTS U TO STAY and you don’t even fuckinnn stay 😭😭 looool aren’t u mean. Technically I wrote the fic backwards it was meant to start with the “r u gonna stay the night” AND then gojo and geto would have a a conversation about you AND the it would end w the party and u tucking but I wanted to keep if one continuous flow and ANYWAYS this an is becoming a diary entry so LMK UR THOUGHTS PLEASE CAUSE THIS HAD ME STRETCHED

#stampedwithane★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk fic #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jjk angst #geto angst #jujustsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x y/n

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astraystayyh · 3 months

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pieces of you

single dad!chan. x fem!reader

genre : neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. mutual pining. 8.7k wc

summary : In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

a.n. : my chris best girl dad agenda is going strong!!!!!! my second fic for the winter falls collab with my writer xi hehe i hope you will all enjoy reading!! feedback is highly appreciated 🤍 the song chris will write for sowon is light by sleeping at last, highly recommend listening to it!!

winter falls masterlist.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

“Shh, daddy smile.”

Soft murmurs linger just beyond your door, elusive words that could easily be dismissed as figments of your imagination. However, any doubt in your mind dissipates with three resounding knocks, jolting you from your momentary contemplation.

A reluctant groan escapes you as you glance down at your attire—a loosely hanging oversized hoodie, a testament to the numerous times it has been tugged down, and a pair of pajama pants whose matching top has mysteriously vanished. Clearly, you don't feel presentable enough to welcome anyone at this late hour. So, you remain motionless, futilely lowering the TV volume in hopes that whoever's behind the door will just continue with their night. But the knocks persist against your wish, so, with a resigned sigh, you rise from your seat, your blanket cascading to the ground in a soft descent.

“What–” the words dissolve in your mouth like a sweet nectar as you open the door, your eyes beholding no one in your periphery. A slight tug at your pants draws your attention downward, only to find the most adorable child your eyes have ever laid on. She's clad in Rapunzel-themed pajamas, wolf slippers bumping into your plain ones, and, to your surprise, a whisk cradled in her small hand.

“Hey there,” your voice softens as you crouch to meet her warm gaze. You find an innocent happiness gleaming in her eyes, a radiant spark shining even beneath the corridor's muted light. Two dimples adorn her cheeks as she smiles at you.

“Hi, my dad wants to tell you something,” she says, pointing with her whisk to the very end of the hallway. You crane your neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive figure.

“Your dad?”

“Mm. He’s a bit shy, that’s why he’s hiding,” she confides in a whisper. But, despite her earnest attempt, her words still resound loudly in the vacant space, causing giggles to spill out of your mouth.

“And you aren’t shy?” you inquire, tilting your head.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head with conviction as someone emerges behind her. She instinctively wraps an arm around their leg, nestling her cheek against their thigh.

She isn't shy because she feels protected.

You rise from your place, eyes locking with a familiar shade of brown. Only these hold a mesmerizing quality to them making your very breath catch in your throat. Kindness pours from his gaze as it travels down your face, a sentiment that further materializes as delicate smile lines stitch around the corner of his eyes.

He’s beautiful.

Your eyes trail down to two pairs of dimples, mirroring the ones of his daughter perfectly. She is his living portrait, sharing his eyes, lips, and smile. Yet, his cheeks blush in a hue she does not possess, while his left hand fiddles with his earlobe, in an unspoken, timid gesture. For some odd reason, it pierces straight through your heart.

“Sorry for bothering you,” a smooth Australian accent rolls off his tongue, similar to rich butter spread on warm bread- it infuses your being with tingles pulsating from the base of your toes. You suddenly no longer miss your blanket.

“I'm your next-door neighbor. We were just making cookies and we realized we actually don’t have flour,” he explains, a bashful smile imprinted onto his lips.

“You didn’t check beforehand?” you ask, laughter tinting your voice.

“I forgot,” he admits, but his tone sounds almost sad as if beating himself over it. A fleeting shadow veils his face briefly, dissipating like a passing cloud grazing the sun.

“Can we borrow some from you? I told Sowon that we could go to the store but she said it’s too cold out,” he asks, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder soothingly.

“It is too cold out,” you agree with a frown, looking down at Sowon to which she smiles brightly, happy to have your support.

“And of course, I'll bring you flour. Don’t worry about it. Do you want to come in meanwhile?”

“It's okay, we'll wait here. Don’t want to intrude.”

“Thank you!” Sowon beams, her missing tooth in full display.

“Yeah, thank you so much…” he trails out, tilting his head as if to silently inquire about your name.

“Yn. And you?”

“Chris.”

“Nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile, shaking his extended hand. His fingers wrap around your palm, and it feels as if you’re grasping thunder, crackling with an electricity that your eyes can’t behold, yet your soul does, suddenly illuminated from within.

Your smile grows as you detach yourself from his hold, before bending forward to bop Sowon’s nose. “And nice to meet you too Rapunzel.”

Your words make her hide behind her father’s leg, peeking out slightly to look at you.

“See I'm not the only one who gets shy,” Chan chuckles, and Sowon whines in complaint, further burying her face in her dad’s grey sweatpants.

Adorable, so much it stirs a long-forgotten melancholy within your being.

“She gets a pass, she's still young, right Sowon?”

“Are you calling me old then?” Chan fakes outrage, bringing one hand to his chest while the other cradles Sowon’s back.

“Old enough to forget about flour,” you wink and he laughs, looking down at your slippers.

“Touché.”

A few minutes go by before you come back, a recipient full of flour in your hands. The sight before you makes you pause in your tracks– Chris, leaning against the wall, Sowon propped on his hip, her arms loosely hanging around his neck, her eyes closed.

“Did she…” you whisper and he turns to you.

“Yeah, fell asleep,” he smiles fondly, tucking a few strands of her hair behind the curve of her ear. “She’ll be disappointed when she wakes up to no cookies. She wanted us to have a baking holiday tradition.”

“You don’t know how to make them?”

“No, I was counting on a six-year-old to assist me,” he chuckles quietly, prompting a snort from you.

“Well, keep the flour, in case you need it again.”

“Thank you, Yn,” he grins, the smile taking over his entire face, grabbing the recipient from you.

“You’re welcome Chris,” you say, as you both linger around the door still, not making any attempt to move.

Your eyes refuse to peel away from his, as if there were a magnetic force drawing you to him, telling you that your gaze belonged to rest on him.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat, leaning away from the wall. “I'll get going.”

“Yeah, sleep well, Chris.”

“Thank you,” he smiles before turning around.

An idea brews in your head, a germ sprouted by the clear adoration in which Sowon gazed at her dad, and the disappointment in his face as he said he would no longer be making cookies. Had you wished to dig a little deeper, you would’ve also found a long-buried feeling of a little girl who would have loved holiday traditions as well. You close the door before heading straight to your kitchen.

One hour later

You knock softly on Chris’ door, fidgeting from one foot to another. You almost retract back to your apartment after your fourth knock, when the door finally opens, Chris coming into your line of sight.

“Hi,” you greet, hands behind your back.

“Hey,” he smiles, leaning his arm on the doorway, right above your head. He tilts his head to the side, silently wondering what you want. The words dissolve in your mouth at the way his eyes fixate on you as if trying to peer behind your irises onto your mind.

“Cookies,” you bring the plate before him, as his eyes grow wide, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

“You made them?”

“Yeah, didn't want Sowon to be disappointed,” you shrug and his eyes grow wild, racking all over your face in disbelief.

“You didn't have to do this,” he finally says, tone softening, syllables ringing like a sweet sonnet in your ears.

“I know. I wanted to. and I'm a baker so making cookies comes easily to me, don't worry about it,” you shrug sheepishly, biting your lower lip slightly. You felt scrutinized by him in ways you haven't felt before.

“Thank you, Yn, I don’t even know what to say,” he says, his smile resembling a beam of light. A surge of pride courses through you at managing to bring it forth.

“No need to say anything. I hope I didn't wake you up,” you smile sheepishly and he shakes his head.

“No, I- I was working in my studio and Sowon is asleep. It's just us two. Always has been,” he adds, tone slightly changing, air growing heavier between you both. It's just them two.

“Studio?” you inquire, hoping to dispel the tension latching around you both.

“I'm a music producer,” he clarifies. “I made a studio here so I could stay the night with Sowon.”

“I'm sure she appreciates that,” you say as you hand the plate to him. His fingertips brush against your own, and a slight electricity courses through you at the touch, the hallway suddenly brighter from the fireworks ricocheting off of you both.

“I…. I'll get going.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't want to take more of your time.”

“I'll see you around.”

“Yeah, I'll see you,” he says, words not ringing carelessly into the air, sounding more like a promise. He'll see you, he'll make sure of it.

ii.

“Can you wait!” a voice echoes near the building entrance, and you prevent the elevator doors from closing as hurried steps near you.

You recognize the voice easily by the light tingles running down your spine, the Australian accent shooting straight through your heart. Its owner materializes, Chris— leather jacket hugging his muscles snuggly, black t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, cap nestled on his head, rebellious strands of ebony hair peeking behind it.

You find the breath knocked out of you once again at his sight. He's beautiful, even more so in broad daylight, where every feature of his comes to life, beckoning, demanding your sole attention.

“Hey, Yn,” he smiles in delight, uttering your name in a familiarity that infuses your being with warmth. Even though you've only talked once, two days ago.

“Hey, Chris,” you greet back, pressing the fourth elevator button again. you face the mirror to find Chris already looking at you, his eyes instantly locking with yours.

“The cookies were good,” he smiles softly and you grin. “I'm glad you think so.”

“Where is your bakery? I need to taste more of your baking.”

The butterflies in your stomach tone down at his words, your attraction momentarily forgotten as gratitude coats your heart instead.

“I can text you the address?” you propose.

“Yeah, here,” he takes out his phone, a picture of him and Sowon set as his lock screen— their cheeks are pressed tightly to one another, messily done eyeliner on both their eyes. you giggle to yourself as you grab the device.

“Cute picture,” you muse and he brings an arm to his neck, scratching the side of it timidly.

“She insists on trying her makeup on me.”

“She makes you look better,” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, tongue poking against his cheek.

“She wants to become a stylist,” he explains, as the elevator doors open. He lets you out first, arm stretched forward.

“I find her passion really cute so I buy her anything she asks for,” he shrugs and you chuckle, pointing to the bag of pink ribbons he is carrying.

“Let me guess, she wants to use these on you?”

“Yeah. She also said that I quote ‘need to learn new hairstyles because her friends always come to class with intricate braids, and she can't go to class with a simple one.’” He repeats, tone growing slightly high-pitched as he mimics his daughter's words. Yet, the fond smile on his face is louder, screaming of his love for her.

“She has you wrapped around your finger,” you muse, leaning against your door. The keys in your bag are long forgotten.

“She can be very scary for such a little girl.”

“What does she threaten you with?” you ask, feigning horror.

“No goodnight kisses,” he whispers, as if scared she'd hear him beyond the wooden door.

“Torture,” you gasp, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Yet, the smiles slip out of your face instantly. Was it normal for clothes to dissolve under your touch, layers of cotton and leather doing nothing to stop the warmth of his skin from seeping through you? Was it normal to be so affected by such an innocent touch?

“Uhm,” you clear your throat, “I can help you. with her hair, I mean.”

“You don't have to. I already took too much from your time with the cookies,” he seems truly apologetic, his tone sobering as if despising others doing things for him. You see yourself in him, in the way he wants to carry the world’s burden on his shoulders. It is a reflection you wish to mend.

“I don't mind, I remember feeling jealous of the other girls in my school so I made myself learn all the braids.”

And then you see his gratefulness, the twinkle in his eyes that you can only grasp for a millisecond before they disappear into moon crescents. Happiness looks grand on him, overtaking his entire face, brightening his features with a glow too ethereal to be of mankind, as if they were carved to translate joy. You find yourself willing to give up more of your time to see it.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and you nod, a grin taking over your face as well.

“You’re welcome. Let me just change my clothes.”

☃︎⋆꙳•❅

“And then, you pull the right strand all over to the middle one. Then you repeat, this way the ribbon is braided into the hair,” you explain to a very concentrated Chris, his eyebrows furrowed as he follows your movements.

“It looks easy when you do it,” he frowns and you giggle, handing the mirror to Sowon so she'd be able to look at her hair.

“Do you like it,” you ask, a tad apprehensive and she beams, dimples that almost swallow her chubby cheeks surging forth.

“Pretty!” she exclaims and you giggle, bopping her nose. “You are pretty.”

“And you are pretty too. right, daddy?”

You turn back to find Chris watching you, a smile so fond on his face that it renders your insides putty, coats your cheek in the palest shade of pink.

“Very much so,” he says, tone quieter, his eyes never leaving yours.

Sowon suddenly climbs on her dad’s lap, star and moon stickers in hand. She places them all over his face, and he sits there diligently, arms wrapped around her midriff so she won't slip away. Every carefully placed sticker is punctuated by a soft gasp from him and a small giggle from her. You could feel the love radiating from both of them, a feeling so strong it made your heart twist in your chest.

Were there red neon exits you weren’t aware of in your being? Ones through which love trickled away all these years ago? Were the spaces between your fingers carved to hold someone’s hand, or to make everything you've ever wanted slip from your grasp?

“What do you think?” Sowon startles you and you force a smile on your face, willing the heaviness in your heart to dissipate. There were questions you'd never find the answers to, you had to make peace with that.

“I love it!” you grin and Sowon nods, satisfied. You look down at your lap as Chris fixates his eyes on you, a worried crease growing between his eyebrows.

“Fun is over, you need to do your homework, Miss Bang,” he scolds and you snort, as Sowon rolls her eyes slightly.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he fakes offense and you giggle as Sowon huffs slightly. “Dad, I told you I have no homework. I already did it with uncle Felix.”

“Oh, right,” he deflates slightly before brightening up once again, “then, you should put away all these hairbrushes and ribbons, okay?”

“Will you watch a movie later with me?”

“Of course, baby.”

“Okay then,” she grins, quickly standing up to start putting away her things. you smile, getting up your turn to leave. Chris understands and stands with you on cue.

“You can stay and watch the movie with us.”

“It's okay, I have some things to work on,” you turn around, but then you feel his fingers wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asks, hand still burning straight through your skin, igniting a million nerve ends with a simple touch. You avoid his eyes, looking down at the ground. It seems to be response enough for him.

“We’re conditioned to say yes even when we aren’t, right?” he speaks softly, his words travel through your veins in a rapid course against the current of your blood— which one will reach your heart first and flood it?

Your facade cracks. His voice wins.

“So, you don't have to reply now,” his thumb swipes once across your pulse. “But I'll be here if you ever wish to tell the truth.”

iii.

You’ve grown exceptionally fond of Chris in the span of mere months, more than you would like to admit to yourself. It was an easy task, as natural as the current of a waterfall. Yet, you did not plan for it, for a new emotion to settle on top of your lungs, to make you more aware of your heart and how it beats, slightly faster, around Chris. But it happened serendipitously, against all odds, when he knocked on your door at 10 p.m. asking for salt.

“Should I start buying groceries for you?” you joked, and it took Chris a millisecond longer to respond, his gaze wandering across your face, as if discovering the world’s eighth wonder, hidden in plain sight all these years.

“For my defense, I have a daughter that likes experimenting with cooking,” he smiled, and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just with salt?”

“She added four teaspoons of it in an omelet. Then forced me to eat it because I always tell her food shouldn't go to waste,” he shudders at the memory and you chuckle loudly.

Chris knocks on the doors of your heart, once.

It happened when you spotted a cockroach the size of your palm on your bedroom wall. You would’ve killed it, you were going to, except it started flying towards you and you let out a loud shriek you didn’t know your vocal chords were capable of conjuring. So, you called Chris.

“Can you please come over,” you murmured, crouching near the entrance door, a pair of slippers in your hand.

“Why are you whispering? are you okay?” he sounded worried, and you heard the turning of a lock as he opened the door to his apartment. He didn’t ask questions, instantly coming to your aid. A sudden urge to weep filled your being at his gesture.

“There is a cockroach. a flying one,” you precised, horror dripping from your tongue and his laugh flooded your ear, tiny squeaks that made your hold on the slipper grow limp.

“I'm from Australia,” he knocked on your door, and you stood up promptly. “I've seen worse,” he said once you finally opened it, his eyes softening incredibly when they met yours.

He did kill the cockroach, by spraying your insect repellent enough times to asphyxiate you too. “I don't think I can sleep in there tonight,” you sighed, gulping down ice cold water, “why does it feel like we went through war?”

“We? You were behind my back all the time.”

“I was cheering you on, from afar. Spiritually.”

“I can’t believe a cockroach scares you this much.”

“You literally screamed when it flied towards you too.”

“I didn't scream! I made a very manly, non-terrified sound.”

“Mm, sure,” you giggled, voice softening at the blushing of the tip of his ears. Chris didn't have to force the door down to your heart, you willingly opened it for him.

And after that, it was a race to find the silliest excuses to see one another. Chris suddenly taking up an inkling for baking, you manifesting a newfound interest in music, Sowon needing her makeup done for a dance, Chris visiting you in your bakery, Sowon craving your cookies and you teaching her the recipe, Chris knocking on your door and you knocking on his. The same giddy smiles on your faces as you usher each other in. And it always, always ending with a movie night.

“Let's watch Tangled,” Sowon exclaims, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Baby, we watched this movie for the past…” he looks at you for support. “Three,” you whisper, a bashful smile on your face. “Yeah, for the past three movie nights,” he whines slightly.

“But I love it,” she says, her pout morphing into a huge grin. “Again! Again! Again!”

“Fine,” he concedes, mouthing “save me,” from afar to you. You giggle softly while Sowon cozies up to your side, your arm naturally draping across her body while her legs stretch atop Chris’ lap, naturally, as if having you both by her side was the way things have always been. The only reality she’s ever known.

It is a fleeting fifty minutes as the three of you watch the movie, Sowon reciting excitedly the lines that she seems to remember. But then the quiet is replaced by her soft snores, her body growing light against you.

“She fell asleep,” you whisper, tapping Chris’ shoulder to catch his attention. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes land on his daughter.

“I'm sorry you have to watch the same movie every time,” he says apologetically and you shake your head.

“I don't mind. Tangled is a good movie.”

“Are you here just because of the movie?” he smiles, dimples peeking through. The juxtaposition between the weight of his words and the soft expression on his face makes a buzzing warmth spread through you. He’s cold and hot, in and out, yours but not.

“What do you want me to be here for?” you throw back, squeezing his shoulder slightly.

“The company.”

“I do find Sowon entertaining.”

“Just her?” he pouts and you giggle, tipping your head back.

“And you too, I suppose, by extension.”

“By extension, mm,” he hums, as he gathers Sowon in his arms, freeing her from your hold. “Then I guess I shouldn't come visit you in your bakery anymore. Since you only enjoy my presence by extension.”

“So sassy,” you shout-whisper as you both walk to Sowon's bedroom, “I like your company too, idiot.”

“Yeah?” he turns back to look at you, tone a tad bit too hopeful. He doesn’t care that he sounds eager for your approval, not when he feels as if he can only truly breathe when you're near.

“Yeah, Chris, I really do,” you speak earnestly, and Chris bites his lower lip slightly, suddenly overwhelmed by the gentleness of your tone. Your eyes follow his action instantly.

He lowers Sowon gently onto the bed and she stirs awake, blinking repeatedly at the both of you. “Yn,” she calls out quietly once her eyes land on yours and you kneel before her bed. Chris watches from the door entrance as Sowon cups her hand near your ear, before whispering something to you. He notices your body stiffening, your gaze fleeting to him before you relax, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

He wishes he could freeze time, stitch this moment into his eyelids until it is the only thing he sees when he goes to sleep. Loneliness is too big of an enemy for one person to fight off, but it seems more harmless when you are near.

Chris sees you right here, every night, not forcing your place into his family, but falling seamlessly into place. Perhaps you were the missing piece that’ll soothe the burn in his heart. Perhaps he’d let you in, even as fear paralyzes his being at the mere thought of asking you to stay.

One week later.

You've grown used to the knocks on your door at ungodly hours of the night, Chris seeking your company each time you both fail to fall asleep. Except this time, there is a chilling premonition in your heart as you walk to your home’s entrance, anxiety coiling like a steel ball in your throat.

“What’s wrong?” you ask upon opening the door, locking eyes with Chris's bloodshot gaze.

“Sowon,” he heaves, tone laden with fear, so different from how he usually pronounces her name. The syllables pierce through your heart like an arrowhead dipped in alarm.

“Sowon?” you question, peering behind him to his slightly ajar apartment door.

“Yes, she has a high fever, and it won’t come down. I tried everything, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s shaking, but I can’t—”He trembles, his quivers akin to delicate chinaware on the precipice of an earthquake, poised to shatter at your feet. You'd plunge to the ground first, anything to soften his impending collapse.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, your voice soft as you grasp his wrist. “Let’s go see her, okay?”

“It's her first time being this sick,” he whispers, clearly distraught, one hand running through his freshly dyed blonde hair.

“It's okay. Don’t panic, it happens. Did you give her medicine?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago,” he replies as you guide him towards her room.

“Good, it'll start working soon,” you reassure, opening the door and crouching before Sowon.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” you coo softly, and Sowon attempts to muster a smile. Her cheeks flush, eyes dim like withered petals.

“How are you feeling?” you ask, pressing your hand to her feverish forehead. You cast a wary glance at Chan, who's anxiously biting his thumb.

“Cold,” she whispers, and you nod, peeling off her blanket. “I know you are, but you have a high fever. We need to let it cool down, okay?”

“I-I’m shaking,” Sowon sighs, lower lip protruding and trembling, both from the iciness clawing at her frail being, and the tears welling in her waterline, like a cup on the brink of overflowing.

“Shh, don't cry. It will pass, it's okay,” you murmur soothingly, cradling her face on your lap, gently moving damp strands of her hair behind her ear.

“Chris, can you bring me a towel and a bowl with cold water?” you ask softly, and the man startles, painfully peeling his eyes away from his daughter, as if doing so would consign her to a dark fate.

“Sure. Sure,” he repeats, scurrying out of the room.

Sowon buries her cheek in your thigh, small hands clinging tightly to yours. You tie her hair up into a loose bun as Chan hurriedly comes back, a bassinet in his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile, as he kneels beside the bed, his hand resting on Sowon’s knee gently.

“Hey sweetheart,” he coos softly, and Sowon blinks at him, light spilling over her face.

“Hey daddy,” she replies as you dip the towel into the water, before squeezing the fabric to remove any liquid excess.

“You're being so strong. I love you so much my pretty girl,” he says, bringing her small hand to rest upon his cheek, bestowing a gentle kiss on her palm.

The moment feels so intimate, so tender, that you almost feel like an intruder. You imagine this is what thorns on roses must feel like, so out of place amid delicate petals and stems.

“I love you too,” she grins, and you remain silent, diligently wiping her face and neck with the dampened towel. You soon lose track of the number of times you've repeated this motion, but Sowon’s eyes are now closed and her body is no longer trembling.

You rest your palm upon her forehead, a sigh of relief escaping your body as you realize that her fever has gone down noticeably- the medicine finally taking effect.

“It's better now,” you smile reassuringly and Chris’s eyes widen, irises shaking as he looks back to his daughter.

“Will she be okay?”

“She will be. She just needs to sleep a bit.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Can we prepare her something to eat meanwhile?”

“Mm,” he absentmindedly nods, his fingers trailing down Sowon’s features delicately, resting upon her round cheeks.

"She looks just like you," you softly smile.

"I know," he admits, not with pride but in surrender, as if his reflection was nothing but a cursed fate. His voice tastes like ocean water, salty, acid, suffocating.

“Chris…” you trail off and he shakes his head, abruptly standing up.

“Let's make her chicken noodle soup. She loves it,” he says and you nod. A ticking bomb resides in his veins, devoid of a countdown, leaving you unsure of when he'll finally explode.

You get your answer soon after—it takes two minutes and thirty-three seconds for the first tear to roll down Chris’s cheek. You spot it as you retrieve carrots from the fridge, averting your gaze as Chan angrily wipes it away.

A few seconds later, five tears follow the same agonizing trail, and now the knife is shaking in Chris’s hands. He squeezes his eyes shut as if frustrated by his pain, by the emotions escaping through the cracks in his heart.

You stay silent, bringing the water to a simmer.

The clank of metal against the counter snaps your attention, and you see Chris with his head lowered down, his hands tightly clutching the counter.

Your tongue moves before you can order it to speak.

"Chris," you call out, your hand finding its place on his back. An ugly sob escapes his lips, a raw cry unearthed from the depths of the soil where he buried his feelings, never allowing himself the grace of grieving, then moving on.

“I'm a horrible father,” he utters so brokenly as if this idea were cemented into his head, woven into every thought of himself—an adjective that lingers like a phantom each time Sowon calls him dad.

“You're not, what are you saying?” you gently turn him around so he'd face you. But his eyes remain downcast, as if ashamed to meet your gaze.

“I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I-I wasn't enough to help her.”

“It's okay, you can't know everything, you are trying your best-”

“No, no, no, it's not just about this!” he snaps, despair clinging to his eyes as he finally looks at you. “It’s hard. It’s so hard to be here alone, and I- I try but it's not enough, I can't do everything and I'm not a good enough parent for her, there will a-always be something missing.”

“You're wrong,” you say but he shakes his head in disagreement. “Chris, you're wrong,” you cradle his face, taking you both by surprise. Your thumb swipes gently underneath the skin of his eyes, wiping his cascading tears.

“You love Sowon. And she can feel it, she can see it, she can hear it. Everyone can. A parent can't be perfect, but they should love. And you love her.”

“What if I can't even love her enough for a father? How will I ever fill the role of two parents?” he's leaning onto your palm, hanging onto your every word. You'd sit for hours and untangle every thread of his mind if you have to, until you single out the infested one and burn it away.

“She loves you Chris. She looks at you as if you hang every star in the sky. As if you're responsible for every good thing that happens in our world. She loves you and you love her.”

You gaze up at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes. Chan notices the subtle tremble in your hand against his cheek.

“If I had someone who loved me as much as you love Sowon when I was a child, I would've turned out so differently,” you smile bitterly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

“You won't be a perfect dad. You can't be. But she won't grow up with a throbbing heart, pulsating because of a void that cannot be filled. Her veins won't be poisoned by hate and abandonment. Because she knows what it's like to be loved,” you pause, as your voice breaks, traitorous tears rolling down your cheeks. “To be cared for.”

Your eyes hold his in a silent conversation, secretly telling him what your tongue cannot speak of— Sowon, an untarnished blossom, won't unfurl into a solitary flower the way you did.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers after a while, eyes softening in understanding. His knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“So you'd find a reason within you to forgive,” he says, as he leans forward to press a tender kiss on your forehead. And somehow it feels more intimate than any way you've been touched before.

Five days later.

chris [11:32 p.m.]: you up?

yn [11:32 p.m.]: i just got bad flashbacks to my college years

chris [11:33 p.m.]: ajaksjsbsbbs

chris [11:33 p.m.]: i didn’t mean it like that ㅠㅠ

chris [11:33 p.m.]: wanna come over? i'm in the studio but im not feeling inspired

yn [11:34 p.m.]: and how will i help?

chris [11:34 p.m.]: i find your presence inspiring

You don’t reply, instead putting on your slippers and walking over to his apartment. He opens the door before you even have the chance to knock.

“What are you working on?” you ask once you’re settled atop his chair, spinning around slightly. He looks down at the pillow on his lap, lightly plucking its pink fur. “A song for Sowon,” he admits softly and your eyes grow a little wide.

“That is so sweet,” you pout, inching closer to him. “How is it going?”

“I've finished the melody and now I'm working on the lyrics. There is just.. so much i want to tell her, i'm unsure if ill be able to express it well.”

“Can I read what you wrote?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he searches through his papers. “Here.”

May these words be the first to find your ears

The world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

I'll give you everything I have

I'll teach you everything I know

I promise I'll do better

I will soften every edge

I'll hold the world to its best

And I'll do better

Tears spring to your eyes unexpectedly, you try to stop their flow but they fall upon the paper, splattering like a broken mosaic, mimicking the brokenness of your own heart.

“I'm sorry,” you spin around, your back to him as you attempt to dry your tears, and yet they show no desire to stop. Chris is in your heart and he’s kicking every other emotion out, forcing you to make amends with your sadness, the one you buried years, years ago.

Chris gently grabs the back of the chair, pulling you back to him before spinning your chair once again until you are facing him. You bury your face in your hands and his rests reassuringly on your knee, squeezing it slightly. “Is it so bad it made you sob?”

“Shut up, you know this isn’t the case.”

His hand delicately traces up your arm, gently lifting your fingers from your face. He kneels before you, his thumb tenderly wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks.

“Talk to me?”

“It's so beautiful, so warm, so loving. Everything a parent should think of their child,” a traitorous hiccup escapes your lips. “Everything my parents never felt for me.”

Chris’ mouth morphs into a pout, eyebrows scrunching tightly. You shake your head, smoothing down the worried crease between his eyes.

“I don't feel sad over things I can't control and I love myself enough now to compensate for what I didn't have, but sometimes-'' your voice breaks, Chan’s hold on your hands tightens. “It stings to remember what could’ve been.”

Stings was an understatement, it is rather a pulsating void, throbbing in ache every day, calling out for its missing piece. How can I fill you with what was lost when it chose to walk away?

“Come here,” he whispers, coaxing you to your feet, his arms enveloping your body as he guides your head to the crook of his neck. His body runs warm, the material of his sweatshirt soft, and he smells nice too, the contours of his muscles tailor-made to complement the ridges of your own.

“You grew up well, Yn. You did well.”

You clutch his shirt, tightening your grip as you fist the fabric in your palm. He's patting your back, and time slows down to match the rhythm of his touch.

“Love can be hard, I know. Especially when the people who left are the ones supposed to be staying.”

He understands, more than anyone you know. He missed out on a different kind of love too, two facets of the same coin.

“You’re doing well too, Chris. You shouldn’t doubt yourself as much,” your arms trail up to encircle his neck, as his nose tickles your hair. You're the one hugging him now. “Sowon is really smart, she told me that she loves you a lot. She can feel it. She sees everything you do for her.”

“Is that what she told you that movie night?”

“Partly,” you whisper, and Chris leans away slightly, his warm palms still pressed to your waist, holding you close.

“What else did she tell you?” he asks, curiosity barely hidden in his tone.

You pause for a while, eyes going over the entire room before finally locking on him.

“She thanked me, said that I make you smile more.” You suck in a deep breath, gathering your courage. “Do I?”

“There are smile lines that don’t show on my face until you're near.”

“Oh.” That is the only coherent response you can formulate, and Chris giggles, a tiny squeak escaping his lips in a huff. “Cute,” he murmurs, planting a tender kiss on your temple. His lips linger, holding onto the moment a beat longer than necessary, causing your eyes to close in delight. Both of you find yourselves blushing as he leans away, a shared warmth coloring the space between you.

“Sorry, didn't mean to make the mood somber,” you say sheepishly as you sit back down, eyeing Chris’s laptop. “I wanna hear this,” you quickly point to a random track on his screen before he can reply, hoping to make the sadness flee away.

“This one? It’s not really good, let's listen to something else,” his rambling and eagerness to change the track pique your curiosity and you quickly click on the song before he can stop you.

connected.mp3 starts playing.

Sultry beats inundate your ears, weaving through your veins and whisking you away to the pulsating rhythm of a dance club. You knew Chris produced good music, yet you never fathomed that his voice could be so luxuriously rich, cascading over you like molten wax. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the suggestive lyrics, the innuendos peeking behind every word. And then, a sudden jealousy claws at your heart, at the thought of Chris hunched in his studio, fantasizing about connecting with someone who isn’t you.

You wished to be the only one Chris liked.

“It’s a- a demo for one of my clients,” he explains through a stutter once the song is done, and you nod meekly, willing your body’s temperature to go down, for the possessivity crinkling in you to fizzle out.

So, you put on your best taunting smirk.

“I know you want me don’t crumble.. No need to be desperate we’re just getting started,” you sing-song back. “You were feeling so cocky when you wrote this, right?” you grin, inching your chair closer to his. “Feeling yourself, Mr. Bang?”

He chuckles with a hint of annoyance, running his tongue along the expanse of his lower lip. Leaning back into his chair, he casually spreads his legs a bit wider, a gesture that suddenly leaves you feeling dizzy, on him.

“It’s cute how affected you seem by it,” he throws nonchalantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

“I'm not,” you smile, although your erratic heartbeat spoke of a different tale, you just didn't need to voice it to him. “I think you were the one getting all hot and bothered in your studio,” you stand between his legs, hovering over him as he leans back fully in his chair.

“I was thinking of a pretty girl.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he suddenly grabs your waist, you feel like your entire body is ablaze. “The prettiest.”

"Who is she?" you exhale, teetering on the edge of crashing your lips onto his, like an incoherent love poem, hastily scrambled on a notebook in a fit of anger.

“y–” The door suddenly opens, Sowon’s small frame standing by the door, she’s rubbing her eyes tiredly, her chick plushie dangling from her hand (a gift from her uncle Felix as she explained to you). You quickly scramble away from Chris as he clears his throat loudly.

“Daddy, I can't sleep,” she says faintly, a tiny pout drawn on her lips, and you can see Chris physically melt at her words, at the way she paddles to his chair, and tries her best to climb up his legs. She fails to do so, so he quickly scopes her up his arms until she’s buried in his hold. Her small hands wound up around his neck, and he tenderly pats down her hair, his gaze never wavering from her frame.

“Want me to sing to you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispers, before making grabby hands at you, your heart softens like clay dough as you scoot closer, enclosing her fingers in your hold.

“Sleep well, Sowonnie,” you whisper.

“Can’t you stay with us?” she asks and you feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skipping three beats at once.

To stay. What a frightening concept. Even more scary when you realize that you aren’t opposed to it.

You yearn to stay, for the first time in years, you wish you could.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, before smiling reassuringly. “I'll stay till you fall asleep.”

Conditions, it is the way it has always been for you. staying till you’re no longer useful, staying till you're no longer wanted. Staying, but always with a time limit, always with an expiration date.

iv.

You’re avoiding him.

Chris knows you are, since you no longer come over to his house, claiming that you’re tired, or that you have an important order to bake for the next day. He would have believed you had he not seen you only once in the past three weeks.

Those were excuses, and each one of them weighed heavily on Chris’ heart, on his home too, his studio particularly, the one that got used to the sound of your laugh.

He misses you. He never thought he’d miss someone again, craving you presence as if every breath leaving his body depended on you. He wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, fleeting hookups every now and then. Strangers invited him to their bed, knowing what they were signing up for– one night of pleasure, never to be seen again, their faces blurring into an indistinct mass in his mind, like an impressionist painting where no features stand out. Yet, with you, every detail is etched in his memory.

He could pick you out of a crowded room, recognize the delicate curve of your neck, the fullness of your lips, and the way your nose scrunches when you smile.

He could draw the moles scattered on your body from memory alone, recognize your scent from miles away– your cotton shampoo and the specific laundry detergent you love to use and a hint of vanilla that never truly leaves you.

He’d remember the curve of your lashes and the cascading of your hair, the airy giggles you leave across like a trail for him to follow everywhere, and your eyes– the way they gazed at him, softening slightly around the edges, shining brightly as if crafted from stardust, the way they softened even more when you looked at Sowon, voice growing slightly high pitched as you listened to his daughter’s rambles.

How did you manage to make his home yours without ever living in it?

“Dad?” Sowon calls out and he snaps his head up, locking eyes with his little girl. She’s sitting on a high stool, munching on her pizza, a pensive look on her face.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he asks, walking over to her side.

“Where is Ynnie?” she asks in a small voice and he freezes, mulling over his response. He settles for the truth.

“I don't know, baby.”

“Does she not want to play with me anymore?” Sowon whispers, and he doesn’t remember his daughter ever being this tentative about voicing a question.

“No!” he's quick to reassure, cradling Sowon’s face between his much larger hands. “Of course not baby she loves you a lot.”

“Okay…” she nods, a small pout drawn on her lips still. Chris senses his heart physically crack in his chest.

“Do you wanna work in the studio with me?” he says in a joyful tone, and she instantly cheers up, the twinkle in her eyes found again. “Yes!”

“Finish your food first, okay Wonnie?”

“Okay!”

In Chris's life, regrets have been scarce, and certainly not in the form of Sowon, his beacon of hope, as he named her. Having her was beholding a sun wherever he went. However, a fear lingers, a whisper in his heart, suggesting that letting you go might be his one true regret.

So when his daughter falls asleep, he knocks on your door once again. He's suddenly transported into that cold night, months ago, where he asked you for flour. Had he known you were behind it he would’ve knocked much sooner.

“Hi,” you greet softly once you open the door. He takes a step forward, his wolf slippers matching with Sowon’s bump into your plain ones. You avert your gaze, finding anything but him to fixate on.

“You're avoiding me,” he says matter-of-factly, voice soft, resigning to you.

“I'm not,” you contradict, even as your eyes remain on the ground. He finds himself missing the color of your irises.

"Look at me, hm?" he implores, and you stay rooted in place. A soft sigh escapes him as he cradles your right cheek with his warm hand, his thumb gently sweeping across your cheekbone. "Yn, please, I want to look at you."

Maybe it is the pleading tone of his voice or the way his thumb tenderly grazes your skin, but something about Chris makes your resolve unravel, threads of fear unknotting before your eyes. So, you finally look at him. An exhale of relief escapes him.

And then you speak.

“You asked me if I was okay, and I didn't reply, back then,” you say, leaning your head further against his palm as tears well up in your waterline. “Do you still want to know my answer?”

“Of course, always.”

“I'm happy. With you, with sowon. I feel this warmth that I have never known before when I'm with you. It was almost easy to forget I've known you during winter,” you chuckle dryly, “but it is all an illusion, I lie to myself thinking I could stay, I… I can't, I-“

“What if I ask you to stay?” he brings your hand to his heart, where it beats erratically, pulse seeping through your skin.

He’s as scared as you are.

“Chris…”

“What if I told you, Yn, please stay with me,” he breathes out, guiding your hand to gently cup his cheek. “Would you? Would you stay?”

“I'm terrified,” you whisper, as he tilts his head, bestowing a tender kiss on your palm.

“I know, so am I. But, you make me believe that even my bruised parts are worthy of love.”

He wins, before years of skeletons and piled up doubts, he wins.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I'm staying.”

“You are?”

“I am,” you giggle lightly and he staggers back, the sun pouring into his smile.

“Um, wow, okay. Thank you for staying,” his voice sounds airy, happiness floating in his tone, and you find it contagious, imprinting into your own.

“Thank you for asking me to stay.”

“You made it less daunting,” he pats your head, smoothing your hair down. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He giggles in response and you can't help but mirror the sound. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Whaaat? I'm not,” his tone grows high-pitched and you roll your eyes amusedly.

“What happened to connected Chris?”

“He is flustered by the girl he wrote about.”

Your cheeks tint red as he places a hand above your head, caging you in place.

“I think the girl should get paid for being the muse.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “I'll think about it.” His grin softens, as a content expression washes over his face. You know you must look the same. “Let's talk more tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” you grin, before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Good night, Chris.”

“Good night, yn.”

You quietly watch as he walks to his apartment door, his hand settling on the door knob. He pauses, for a few seconds where the air around you stills, before swiveling around and walking over to you again.

you win.

“I forgot something,” he breathes out, before crashing his lips onto yours, furiously, as if needing to imprint his essence onto you, tainting your soul the way you have tainted him, permanently altering the composition of his being. His lips move on yours as if they've done this before, a dance they have rehearsed countless times, perhaps in all the dreams Chris visited you in. Yet, nothing compares to how it feels to have him touch you, lick your lower lip and drag his hand up your hips, press you against your apartment door, and nibble at your neck.

Nothing could have prepared you for the passion he shows you, for how delicious it feels to be pressed against him, for the storm that your lips conjure, swirling in your heart in vibrant shades of red. Then, for the softness of his lips as they slow down their course, plump and rosy as they meet your own, tenderly, more gently, one kiss after the other. “My hope,” he whispers, as his lips find yours again, “my missing piece.”

He’s hot and cold, in yet seeking no out, finally yours.

bonus (one year later).

“So I brought the eggs, milk, sugar,” Chris enumerates as he takes out the groceries, and you turn to look at Sowon to find her already gazing at you, a mischievous look on her face.

“How much do you wanna bet he forgot flour?” you whisper and she giggles, burying her face in her hands to stifle her laugh.

“And… Wait, where is the flour?” he trails off and you burst out laughing, as you and Sowon high-five each other excitedly.

“Daddy, you are really bad at groceries.”

“Am I?” he smiles sheepishly, fiddling with his earlobe in a manner that still makes your heart melt, renders your insides butterflies speaking of Chris’ name.

“Yes, it’s good Mom bought it,” she says naturally, looking down at her iPad. You and Chris freeze in your tracks, eyes instantly locking with one another, yours and his, glossy with emotion, a loving tide enveloping you both.

It's her first time calling you mom.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, crafted not by thorns but by petals, not by ache but with love, before placing your chin on the small of her shoulder, murmuring softly. "Mm, will you help me bake, baby?"

“Yes! I wanna be a baker when I grow up, just like you.”

“What happened to being a stylist?”

“I can't be both?” she frowns innocently.

“You can be anything you want, princess.” you bop her nose and she giggles, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

In the grip of winter, Chris discovers a warmth that defies the season, casting off years of cold from the recesses of his bones. A soft smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, his hopes, his girls, the three of you clad in wolf slippers.

He’ll propose to you tomorrow.

#skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids reactions #skz angst #skz fanfic #chan fluff #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz au

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

Text

A boiling frog (Alastor x Reader smut)

saw someone talk about “boiling frog syndrome”, when a situation becomes dire so slowly you don’t realize how dangerous it is until it’s too late, like a frog slipping into death as the cold water comes to a boil, never trying to leap out. Made me think of Louisiana frog legs and, of course, our self obsessed deer demon. my longwinded ass used restraint and went for a PWP (I hope…. No, theres still plot. I’m a slut for plot. Sorry?)

Your companionship was peppered onto Alastor so gently and slowly he didn’t realize he was too far gone until he was hopelessly dependent on your attention. He decides the only remedy is to drown you in his.

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x fem reader, cunnilingus, biting, work attire, realistic descriptions of yet another job I once had, fingering, mentions of my favorite alcoholic beverage, southern shit, filing, that asshole in room 127

Minors DNI

When you first arrived at the hotel, Alastor was pleased to have some help. Charlie informed him of your experience on earth managing apartments and how you would be taking on the role of ‘Resident Relations Manager’. Any issues, complaints, or room adjustments would go to you first. Marvelous. As his underling, you often came to him with your own gripes and stories of the latest drama around the hotel. It became a sort of ritual to meet at the bar after work, talking about the day’s trivial matters over two fingers of rye and a cassis orange. One morning you joined him for coffee in the sunroom he added shortly after your arrival, silently enjoying the view. Then you returned the next day. At some point you started filling his mug and bringing it to the chair he always used. Neither of you spoke, which he found refreshing.

The group dinners were never his scene, the familiarity they bore was uncomfortable and dangerous to his plans. But he overheard your laughter as you and Angel teased each other about what could or couldn’t be defined as a kink. When he joined the table, he was pleasantly surprised at the in-depth conversations you sparked among the band of hopeless fools he’d come to enjoy.

So when he entered the sunroom one morning to see his cup, but not you, it ruffled his fur, so to speak. At dinner, he heard from Charlie you were eating in your office. The bar was full of residents and yet empty all the same when you never arrived.

Three days was all it took. Three days of not seeing you. When he walked past the bar at 9pm to see just Angel and Husk, he continued onward until in the safety of the darkened hall. Licking his teeth, he found himself getting angry. Annoyed that he was promised, by your actions, interesting conversation and like-minded company. His fists curled out of frustration, lights strobing as he stalked down the hall.

But that melted into something even more upsetting, he felt… worried. Not that his smile showed it, passing Vaggie with a nod of his head.

When did you manage to creep into his mind? Like an overlord taking territory, you had taken space in his thoughts with ruthless speed. Never one to be passive in competition, he realized he needed to take drastic measures to catch up to you. He knew of many ways to get *ahead, but he found an ambush always worked like a charm.

Alastor’s shadows gathered before he rose from the floor of your office.

You were standing near a filing cabinet, looking intently at something, “Hello there Alastor, to what-“ you turned the page, not looking at him, “do I owe the pleasure?” You hadn’t actually lifted your head from the file until you felt a hand in the small of your back. You flinched and took a step away, turning around to ask what he was doing when you noticed you weren’t in your office anymore.

The large hole in the wall that led into an endless swamp of a forest hinted at whose room this was.

Closing the file with one hand, you gestured around the room, “Is there a reason I’m here?”

He motioned for you to sit on the bed, and when you laughed he used the microphone to corral you to the edge. “You’ve been busy, as of late.”

“Swamped.” Usually your puns would get atleast a chuckle from your boss, but this time he passed right over it.

“I realized today we haven’t had one of our usual chats in quite a while. What’s been keeping you oh-so-occupied?” He pushed down on your shoulders until you came to rest on the bed.

Nervously, you scooted back a little from him, “Well, so many new residents has meant so many petty little issues. This guy on the 34th floor is angry that the man who killed him is on 37– Alastor?!” He had knelt down and lifted your ankle, slipping your shoe off.

“And?”

“What are you doing?”

“Isn't it obvious?" He picked up the other ankle, "Listening. Continue.”

You laughed breathlessly, “wha-,” but the way he looked up at you seemed to catch your tongue, “uhm, so- yeah so he doesn’t think his killer deserves redemption-,” the other shoe was taken off, neatly set besides its twin. You took a deep breath to try and calm down, “and even if he does, he shouldn’t be—,”Alastor’s hand slipped up your right thigh, fingers taking your stocking and rolling it down. His gaze on your face never wavering.

“Keep going.” The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just suggesting it.

“-be on a higher floor.” He peeled the left stocking down, delicately pulling it over your toes.

You forgot to breath for a second. Instinctively you brought your knees together.

“That is quite annoying! What ever will you do?” That toothy grin widened as he looked up at you. His hand began to massage the sole of your right foot.

“Huh? Do what?”

“About the man on 34’s complaint”, his hand then moved up to your calf, he hummed, “what supple flesh, my dear.”

“Thank you?” Should you be scared or horny? Was he tenderizing his dinner? He looked up at you expectantly. “I told him if the angels return, higher floors would be the most dangerous.”

"Ha! Quite a clever response! Did it placate him?" He raised your right knee to his mouth, placing his lips above the joint. You felt his breath over your inner thigh as he let out a soft huff of a laugh, a reaction to your confused face. You were absolutely panicked; frozen. That wild look you were giving him, if he could he would drown himself in those eyes. Alastor felt his own excitement build, a twitch pressing his cock against the zipper of his dress pants. What a delicious reaction. His long hands crawled under your work skirt, nails grazing your skin as he grabbed the sides of your panties, "It's rude to leave someone waiting, dear."

You shook your head, crawling backward on the bed, "Okay, I get it. Ha ha, you managed to frazzle me."

A darkness fell over his face, "I don't think you do get it." He opened his mouth and dragged his teeth over the skin of your inner thigh, "You've neglected me quite rudely! Most people wouldn't dare such a thing and yet you don't even seem slightly concerned about it."

Rude? "Alastor, oh my god. What did I do? I've been at work every morning on time, if not early. I have been staying up late to make sure the resident files are up to date. I've been meeting with Charlie like you wanted about-,” He brought the panties down your thighs.

"It is what you haven't been doing, mon cher.” He pulled them clear of one leg, leaving them to hang off the ankle of the other leg. "I've been drinking my coffee alone in the sunroom, do you think I had the set of rocking chairs delivered for my own amusement? Dinner has been monotonous without your conversation. And what about our nightly gossip at the bar?" When he lifted your leg and hooked your knee over his shoulder, you fell back on your elbows to keep from lying flat.

"Listen-- Alastor!" His name was squeaked out as a bite stung you, dangerously close to your now naked pussy.

"Sir." He chided.

"Sir?!" He pushed your skirt up, exposing you, "Sir. I don't really like people going down on me."

"That's odd.” His hands gripped your thighs and dragged your ass to the edge of the bed, your pussy now inches from his face. His eyes rolled from left to right, “I don’t remember asking.” Your other leg was pulled over his shoulder, causing you to finally fall onto your back.

A long, wide tongue licked from mid thigh to the place where your legs met your crotch. You felt the heat of his mouth before he finally made contact with your core, one long lick from entrance to clit.

You buried your face inside the file, inhaling the smell of ink and paper with each pant. Your heart was pounding, the rush of blood from your head to your lap left you dizzy and seeing spots.

“Ah ah! I need your full attention.” He took the file and tossed it to the side. He needed to see your face, this was pointless if he couldn’t watch you go dumb in his mouth.

He had started this wanting to ensure you would be thinking about him as much as he had been you, but the way you couldn’t even speak when he touched you shifted his mission. Now, he wanted to win. Maybe he would be bothered by the absence of your presence in the sunroom, but you’d lie awake at night pained by the absence of his tongue in your cunt.

“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.” Your face was beet red.

“Good. I’ve never been very fond of sharing my toys.” His nose grazed your already throbbing clit as he sunk his tongue into you. Reflexively your thighs pressed against his ears, his head keeping you from closing them entirely. His tongue seemed to lick at your walls as if reaching for something, the sensation wet and warm. You whined, embarrassed at how you were twitching against his lips.

You could feel his smile widen, thumb pressing down on your clit. Gripping the sheets you tried to ease away, the pressure too rough. His nails dug into your left leg, keeping you from making any real difference.

As he dragged his tongue along your walls you felt something you normally didn’t when getting eaten out; the beginning tension of an orgasm slinking into your stomach.

When his mouth left your cunt you gasped, the air stinging at your wet hole and thighs.

“Starting from the morning, tell me exactly what you did today that was so important you didn’t feel the need to entertain me with your company. If your mouth stops moving, so will mine.” He brought his lips to your other thigh, nipping at the skin.

“I made your coffee but got a call about a resident.” His finger pressed against your entrance before breaching.

“Oh, it has been awhile. I thought you were just being modest”, he laughed, your embarrassed expression spurring him forward. He hadn’t expected you to be so tight on just a single digit.

“She feels unsafe, there’s a jackal demon on her floor who keeps”, his finger curled, hitting that bundle of nerves that made your eyes cross, “who is giving her really scary looks.” He bit down again, breaking the skin. You yelled, yanking your leg back but he didn’t release you. “Alastor- please. This is cruel enough.”

“You haven’t even begun to see me be cruel.” He lapped at the wound, finger in you slowly dragging out before entering again. Still bent, it would hit your spongey g-spot with every move. “After that?”

“I had a meeting with Charlie. About the different growth activities.” Eyes closed, you could feel your pleasure slowly inching up that peak. “I needed to organize the files first, so I ate at my desk again.”

His lips cupped your clit as he began to suck. Your hips rose off the bed and his mouth went with you.

“It’s a lot of paperwork, you won’t let me use a computer for it.” His hand pulled back as a second finger joined. The way your cunt was gripping his fingers, he couldn’t imagine how much you’d hiss around his cock. His hips rutted against the air beside the bed, out of your view.

You put your arm over your eyes to hide yourself in some way, breath hitching when his fingers began pumping in and out of you. The moans tumbling from your mouth made Alastor’s grip on you tighten further. His cock leaking into the front of his pants.

When his tongue stopped flitting over your clit you groaned a complaint.

“Ffuuuck, Alastor. D- Uh, Room 127 hates the view o-,” your jaw clenched around the words, “something something blah blah blah —nngh” your head went back, your hips now fully grinding into his mouth. You needed more friction, your orgasm rolling just to the precipice.

His tongue slowed.

“He- he uh, I said he could move,” his fingers curled, pressing over and over into your g-spot, “when he stops being such an asshole. fuck me, please don’t stop—,” you reached down for his head and took a fist full of hair, earning you a surprised moan from him.

Alastor removed his hand from your leg to palm his clothed erection. His nose buried into your bush as his own breathing picked up.

So close.

“-and now I’m here and you’re here,” your words breathy, “and I’m gonna cum—I’m so close, so close,” your lips tingled from the way you were panting.

You choked out a moan as your orgasm reached its climax and pleasure wracked your body. Your grip on his hair stinging, your pussy sucked his fingers in with so much need he closed his eyes and let himself cum against his palm at the thought of his cock in their place. He felt the warmth soak into his pants.

Both of your hands came to your face, too embarrassed to speak.

Alastor placed your shoes and tights beside you, and rested both of his elbows on either side of your head. His weight pressed into you, and you finally looked at him. He was resting his chin on his cradled hands, staring down at you.

With a smug grin and raised his eyebrows he said, “Apology accepted.” He pushed off of you, bringing both fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with a wet ‘pop’. “See you in the sun room at 8am! Bring that cheery smile I’ve come to enjoy!” He sunk back into the shadows and was gone.

You looked around, you were back in your office. He’d transported you seamlessly from lying on his bed to lying on your desk.

“Yes, sir.”

*get it? He wanted to “get ahead”… head. The slang for cunnilingus ? I’ll see myself out

༻Masterlist༺

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mango-dolphin · 2 years

Note

Big question: do the heroes parties know how old they are? specifically Ren and Itsuki cause they aren't even 18 yet. I don't remember Naofumi telling Raphtalia or Filo his age either, and the story isn't focused on the others enough.

I can imagine Itsuki telling his party he's 17 so he can get "wow you're so mature and heroic for your age :))))" type compliments, Motoyasu will tell any woman trying to hook up, and Ren might purposefully avoid it so he's not treated like a kid(he is).

I can imaging his party asking Nao how old he is, and them just freaking out when they learn he's 16!!! after they freak out to Ren about "why didn't you tell you you are only a CHILD". since i think they are all like complete adults(youngest being 18).

canonically: no clue </3 i DO remember Naofumi mentioning offhandedly in the anime (s2 i believe) that he was 20? but i don't remember the context (let alone which episode; was probably before the Spirit Tortoise arc tho?). and like you said, the story (especially in the anime) isn't focused on the others enough to really give us any ideas? you could make inferences based on the passing glances of their parties, but they'd be a lot of conjecture.

i DO get the impression raphtalia and filo are aware of his age to some extent—raphtalia in particular i feel would be the best bet out of his current (anime s2) party to know his age. that said, it's wholly possible that raphtalia doesn't actually know the exact age either: naofumi seems like the type of person to just not mention much about himself (even before getting betrayed by Myne!)

not that he'd go out of his way to hide stuff about his character (in fact he seems pretty unapologetic about himself mostly within reason), but rather he just wouldn't think to say anything. i am very much the same way where i just won't mention shit about myself, even if it's relevant. i tend to hide my birthday from people for instance because i don't want it to be a big deal—i don't have any birthday traumas, i'm just a tad private like that.

(imagining one day naofumi mentions offhandedly somewhere casual in luroluna that he's 20 while everyone starts losing it to some degree. rishia and eclair thought he was in his 30s. melty thought he was 16, for some reason. filo was actually exactly on the mark, strangely enough—no one expected her to have that good a grasp on the passage of time, let alone its relativity to others. raphtalia, having a skewed perception of human ages, assumed naofumi was either in his late teens or mid-20s], and got cllllose enough frankly)

headcanon-wise: god. GODDDD i can't agree more with the assessments on itsuki and motoyasu it's absurd.

itsuki would definitely think being 17 would simultaneously be a badge of maturity (he's so close to being 18! plenty grown and so close to graduating high school! practically an adult!!) as well as a bragging right (he's doing such heroic and marvelous things at such a young age. he's not even 18 yet! what a brilliant mind with such a bright future!!!). unfortunately for him, announcing this fact just makes his gullibility that much more obvious

from what i've read on the wiki and inferred from the anime, it seems that this would've definitely been something that itsuki's party capitalized on. he was practically announcing to the world that he was a young, impressionable mind that could be influenced and controlled. (and this is why we practice internet safety, folks!)

he'd probably really hate to be reminded that he's 17 in those ways (e.g. that he's young, naive, inexperienced, etc), even if it's not outright said. probably reads into things a LOT so sometimes he might snap about it in a situation where the other party wasn't actually trying to belittle/demean him at all. it can make it a little more difficult to talk itsuki down, because he seems like the type of person who'd hate to be told that he can't do something. especially because of something he can't necessarily control, like his age.

probably felt even more insecure about his age when rishia, also 17, joined the party. just another reminder of who he used to be: some pathetic, easy-to-bully weakling struggling to keep up with the rest of the pack.

(but also, wouldn't it have been so comforting? so relieving? to finally have someone your age by your side again?)

(someone who might not necessarily understand everything you say, but gets so naturally in-tuned to it just by virtue of being in a generation similar to yours? even though you're from two completely different worlds?)

(someone who gets overwhelmed by all the demands that the world puts on them, and the demands they put on themself, just like you?)

(someone who is struggling just as much as you are?)

(someone who gets it?)

itsuki would prefer not to have any more teammates his age or younger. he doesn't need to babysit anybody.

motoyasu loudly announces his age, height, weight, blood type, and marital status to anyone displaying a mildly flirtatious manner in his direction.

ren doesnOkay i should probably elaborate more on motoyasu actually.

i think motoyasu's age is something that keeps in his mind a lot, funnily enough. he's 21, so he is (well, was) at that point of his life where he "had" to start figuring out his life direction. ESPECIALLY after learning that he was kinda modeled after (romantic?) VN protagonists, i got the vibe that motoyasu had kinda been... drifting? in terms of his self-identity, anyways.

he seems like the type to focus more on the moment of things, particularly at the expense of thinking out the consequences. honestly, w/the degree of delusion he tends to display whenever Enacting His Heroic Persona™, it's possible that this tunnel vision is something deliberate: so that he doesn't have to think much about his future, much less choose where he's going.

but once you hit that 21 mark, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing you're starting to run out of time (even though you Just finished being a teenager, still haven't gotten much life experience at ALL by virtue of being so young, and you could easily live quadruple the time you've already been alive—so you've got a LOT of time to use).

(i'm approaching this from an american perspective, so i don't know how applicable the 21 milestone is—HOWEVER, you're kind of considered an adult at age 20 (and are treated more or less as an adult in many legal things by 20, though the transition period starts at 18-ish).)

motoyasu's already 21. he could barely even choose a girl to love properly, and he didn't see the warning signs of the relationships he had haphazardly begun. maybe he should've done something about it. maybe he should have listened to those girls. he's just a body, after all—they probably know what's best for him anyways. otherwise he'd just be wasting his life away, right?

(foreshadowing my personal take on motoyasu's previous life. oops. i'm worried about him your honor)

all of motoyasu's party members know his age and would generally know his birthday month/season. he seems like he'd mention that kind of stuff offhandedly a lot: he gives me the impression he's typically an open book when it comes to his thoughts and his personal life. (that is, with some Exceptions. he's a bit of a master at dodging things he Does Not want to acknowledge to the point of essentially trashing them from his mind—raphtalia commenting that motoyasu's words were "empty" during the pope fight is something that echoes in my head a LOT.)

whenever he Does bring up these facts (like mentioning he's an april baby a lot—idk if he was born in april but motoyasu gives me april vibes), it doesn't seem like he's trying to nudge them towards doing something for him at all. he's a tad too oblivious/blunt for that. motoyasu is just a bit of a motor mouth who doesn't care for his own privacy. (not in the dangerous way that itsuki might, but rather just "oh, he's just easy to talk to")

I DIDN'T REALIZE I'D TYPE SO FUCKING MUCH. UHHHHH for ren my answer is actually incredibly simple:

Ren's party members wouldn't even know what he had for breakfast in the morning.

it's not that they don't pay attention to him or anything, because (especially in the beginning) they really really tried to. this bitch is just a puzzlebox of a person who adamantly refuses to talk about himself very much. he'll talk about necessary stuff and won't shoot down small talk by any means, but if naofumi is a passively private person, ren is an Actively Private Person.

it'd be hard not to suspect that ren was hiding Something acting like that, but it became pretty evident to the party (the longer they stayed) that ren just really sucked at divulging information about himself. which WOULD suggest traits of its own, hilariously enough

he's socialized and well-adjusted enough to hold thoughtful, in-depth conversations, but asking him about his favorite food is an exercise in confused futility. (he'd keep second guessing himself and forget the name of the food and then remember he hates x spice and so on and so forth and you wouldn't actually get much of value from the question you actually asked—)

i don't think ren's party ever got close enough to really see much of that kid's true self, outside of those fleeting awkward teen convo moments. not that he'd go out of his way to show it. but they probably got the sense (ESPECIALLY w/his loner behavior) that he was one of the younger Cardinal Heroes.

(i think it'd be a fair assumption to say that generally the people of melromarc would believe itsuki was the youngest cardinal hero, especially as he'd state outright that he was 17 commonly. no one really expected a 16-year old hero)

don't worry about ren's party asking naofumi how old ren is tho, because after the Spirit Tortoise arc ren doesn't have a party to worry about anymore :)

(i am so fucking sorry

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