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capslocked · 6 months

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words.

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity.

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers.

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth.

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this.

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail.

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-"

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering -

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

(There's got so much on her mind.

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

#hyeju smut #loona smut #loona hyeju smut #loossemble smut #loossemble hyeju smut #olivia hye smut #loona olivia hye smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months

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throwing up bc i can’t stop thinking about dealer!remus and r high and spending new years together bc they just want it to be them two and them being each others new years kiss and using that as a way to make a move on each other bc they were too scared to do anything before pleaSe sedate me

No because why didn’t I have a dealer!remus to kiss me breathless for the new year??!

There’s a frog in your throat. There usually isn’t when you’re alone, but there always seems to be a lump in your throat when you’re with Remus that no amount of affection for him will lessen.

In fact, it seems that the more affection you harbor for him the bigger the lump grows.

You’re sitting on his sofa, in a sparkly New Year’s Eve midi dress and tall socks that are hidden under a fleece blanket.

Remus is in dark slacks and a white shirt- both outfits remnants of the party you’d both escaped from.

“Sure you don’t want a sweater, dove?” Remus asked as he’d undid his tie and honestly, a sweater would’ve been so much worse than suffering in your sequin dress that’s scratching the sliver of skin exposed of your thighs.

“The blanket’s fine, Remmy,” you’d promised, mostly because the idea of being in a sweater that smelled exactly like Remus- a little like his detergent, his citrus and pepper perfume and weed, would’ve made you even more of a mess.

Currently, you’ve got a blunt hanging from your lips, content to have the smoke billow from your mouth and around your head.

Remus is halfway done with his own, watching you mostly as he lets the last bit of the weed burn out.

“There’s something wrong with my hands, Remus.” You say, and he supposes that there should be more urgency in your words, but you get this even softer, mushy quality about you when you’re high that makes every thought seem like nothing.

“What’s wrong with them?” He asks, turning his body so he’s facing you. Your knees knock as you turn to him too.

“Can’t move them,” the blunt almost falls from your lips, and truly your arms feel like lead. Remus catches it before it falls, holding it close to your mouth in case you still want a pull. “Thanks.”

You’re always earnest and shy, but it only seems to become that much more endearing when you smoke, and Remus finds he loves it even more.

The way every word sound wistful, the way your eyes blink up at him slowly like you’re trying to stare at him for as long as possible.

“You’re really pretty, Remus. Which is strange for men,” you say it thoughtfully, like you’ve been thinking it forever.

You’re not sure why you can’t stop talking, or ally you’ve a lot less words to use; but tonight it seems resolutions have come earlier.

“Yeah?” Remus smiles as you nod and take a drag before exhaling.

“Yeah, and your lips, they’re so pretty.” If your hands were working you’d probably reach out to touch the thin scar that slices through his lip, but right now you can’t and maybe it’s a blessing.

Unconsciously, you lean into Remus some more, your thigh covering his knee.

“You’ve got a better pair, pretty girl.” Remus insists and your eyes widen. It’s funny that you seem to find the compliment unhinged.

The distance closes some more.

“Yeah?”

Suddenly, you and Remus are almost lip to lip, noses brushing.

“Yes, dovey,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours and before he can even ask, you close the distance.

The kiss is shy, an experimental press and then you pull back. Remus doesn’t let you get far and sets the blunt into the ashtray before grabbing the back of your neck to pull you back to him.

It’s a kiss not like what you’d expected; Remus tastes like weed, but there’s something else and it fogs your head even more than the high grade you’d just been smoking.

The kiss is slow but deep, a dance Remus leads with ease. His fingers tangle in your hair to keep you in place and yours finally seem to work again and climb the back of his shirt.

“Happy New Year, dove.” He pulls away and is almost as breathless as you are, the light of the fireworks being set off brightening the window behind you.

“Happy New Year, Rem,” you hide your face in his chest when you catch your breath and Remus chuckles. “Dunno why you’re laughing. Can’t kiss a girl like that and not expect her to get flustered.”

That only makes him laugh even more. Remus’ hands rub down your back.

“You’d get flustered if I only looked at you baby, let’s not pretend.”

#remuslupin #remus lupin #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin fic #remus lupin x black!reader #remus lupin x high!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x yn #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #dealer!remus #dealer!remus lupin

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linberlyy · 11 days

Text

HBO recently released a new video with mini-interviews with actors on green/black team. And do you know what conclusion we made? Our greens actors are so afraid to express their opinions and views on the actions of the characters that they begin to laugh them off, albeit in short phrases, and explain what we already know.

Just take a look:

Tom: “Why should Team Green be on the throne and not Team Black? My name is on the lease for the castle." (We know, Tom, how much you get hated, and we understand that this is all you can say in principle at such events).

Fabien: “I think it's more a loyalty thing for Cole. I think it's his loyalty to Alicent. He wants what she wants. I myself… no comments.” (I was already shy at the end, you are our sunshine).

Ewan: “Aemond, he was bullied and wronged as a kid. They carved his eye out. He bounced back. He put a sapphire gemstone in his eye. And yeah, they're gonna get what's coming to them.” (Here Ewan revealed what we've already...sort of...seen? Why do we need a summary of the events of the first season? Even the last encrypted phrase sounded without the connotation we needed, so that, obviously, God forbid, we put him against mailwife Daemon, against whom he is nothing).

Olivia: "We have bigger dragons." (Poor Olivia, she was hated, it seems, more than anyone else. She looks thinner and tighter. I really hope that we are wrong. They didn’t even say the words in using their party, just so as not to cause a storm of negativity, how dare this ungrateful person go against Rhaenyra!)

While the actors of the opposite side can afford to make too eloquent and provocative statements, it is clear that most of the normies will support them and begin to squeal with delight:

Steve: “Team Black should be on the throne instead of Team Green. Team Green are usurpers. Team Black are the rightful heirs. They were named by the King. They're just better looking, generally.” (Even green actors cannot afford to call their characters “legitimate” and make any comments in favor of the opposite side, but here there is just basic cringe. Everything we like).

Eve: “They're the best. And the annoying people are pretty obviously the Greens. They're all just a bunch of knobs, and they need their heads being knocked together." (No comments, right? Everything is clear here).

Harry: “Team Black are decent people. We are more of a functioning family. We do things the right way." (The funny thing is that the whole Dance is the struggle of ONE family. The fact that EVEN the actors divide both groups into TWO different families already says something, and we do not take this into account, as it is about the same persons in the scripts).

Phoebe: “I think we love each other way more. I think we have a family base that is incredible. (Yes, let's also compare who loves whom more).

Bethany: “Team Black are the most fun. We get on the most. They all hate each other. „You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on the throne“. (In the video, after the actress’s words, they accidentally removed Alicent and Aegon from the trailer, obviously, there was a visible emphasis on the fact that there is no love in the green family, and in general they watched without exception, but with their black maniacs, everything is cool with them).

Matt: “My uncle is a challenge I welcome. If he dares face me." No chance. I'm coming for his head. I'm gonna put it on a spike. Me and Rhaenyra, there's a bloodline to us, isn't there? We're the thoroughbreds." (Compare Ewan's lines with his. There is a big difference. Matt has the ability to say things like this to please the surviving fans, while Ewan does not, because all he gets in response is judgment, hate speech and swearing. And the phrase “We're the thoroughbreds” each time comes closer and closer to the name of H*tler with his “pure Aryan blood”, don’t blame me).

Emma: "We have madness on our side. And we have a powerful naval presence. Thanks to the Velaryon fleet." (Ok, do we need to remind you in what right and wrong ways the characters got it? Do the Velaryons themselves even know what the key is? However, Emma’s words carry disgust, like the words of her fellow actors, so she’s just a bun. Thanks for that too).

Does anyone have any other suggestions as to which side we present to get our ass kissed? The answer is obvious.

#hotd #anti team black #houseofthedragon #pro team green #team green #the greens #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower #criston cole #olivia cooke #ewan mitchell #fabien frankel #tom glynn carney

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scarlet-fantasies · 5 months

Text

Eren is your first love hcs

Description: Eren is aware that he's your first boyfriend, but he’s not aware of being your first love. Also what makes you love/what he has done for you.

::𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:: fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡

𝐼𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 --> 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What makes you love him/what being your first love consists of:

💚The way he admires your beauty and looks at you a lot.

💚Sometimes says thank you after a kiss as a tease

💚Was the first person to see your room. Would tease you just a bit if you had stuffed animals.

💚He'd smile, holding up the stuffed toy of a duck in his hands, "You still have stuffed animals?"

💚"Oh, there from when I was three, I should've put them away."

💚"No its fine, I think its cute that you have childhood memories in your room."

💚maybe need to make a post about rooms idk,

💚his room is a mess

💚Was the kind of guy that loved watching you from afar and admiring you before asking you out

💚He once told you during one of your first dates he said, “I saw you a couple times around campus but I couldn't stop but when I found out you started working here, I thought ‘I gotta meet that girl.’l

💚Of course, you probably didn't want to believe that because it just seemed like flattery but he worked up to what he said. I know it may seem kinda corny for him to say but he'd only say that to girl he means it too.

💚I mean if you think about it men will change their approach to a woman depending on their intentions. And that's basically what Eren did here. With his ex-girlfriends, he didn't say anything like that. What I will say is that if he was serious about a girl, he probably wouldn't realize it. He'd be the type to not notice his change in behavior. It would take his friends to point it out.

💚Loves to ask if he can kiss you in the beginning of a relationship.

💚Will keep the relationship private for your sake.

💚Finds a thrill in it, really tbh.

💚Plus, knowing your parents and his parents wouldn’t be involved, he likes that more.

💚He repays you w kisses when you do something for him.

💚If you weren’t sure if you two were bf and gf he’d find it kinda funny that you were confused.

💚“Did you just say boyfriend?” He’d ask.

💚“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that, it's just saying a “male friend” doesn’t make sense in our situation. And I’m not really sure what else to say–I mean what do you think?”

💚He stops and turns to you, “Y/n, I can’t make the decision of being your boyfriend.”

💚Your lips parted as you looked down shamefully and mumbled. “Oh--”

💚A grin appeared on his face, “But I can ask you. Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

💚You nodded, “I’d like that.”

💚When you ask about something he doesn’t like doing, like a specific date or whatever. He doesn’t tell you instead he’s reluctant and tries to see how much this means to you.

💚If you try to play it off like it doesn’t matter, then he’s definitely going to say yes.

💚“Oh well, I was just offering the idea.”

💚“We’ll go.”

💚“Huh?”

💚“I said we’ll go, I can tell how much you really wanna do this.”

💚He’s always looking for you and surprises you a lot.

How he found out:

💚You were in Mikasa's room and spending time with her and you got into the subject of your boyfriends and so she started to share about her first love and then the question came to you.

💚“So Y/n what about you? Whose your first love?”

💚Considering she’d be only one witnessing how you felt and Eren wouldn’t be the one to hear you figured why not let your best friend know?Of course, you were unfortunate and as Eren walked by Mikasa’s room he heard what she had asked you.

💚And he was definitely interested because not even he knew this about you. Mostly because he knows you'd never tell him. So he couldn't help but get curious and listen. If there was thing Eren was known for, it was that he loved watching you/listening to you and knowing everything about you, especially your feelings, which you'd never share or secrets you wanted to hide. So he couldn't help but want to hear, I mean, you two weren't exactly quiet after all he could pretty much hear everything you two were saying.

💚“C’mon tell me, I want to know.“ She urged, wanting to know what you were hiding.

💚Eren was on the edge of his seat to know by this point, seeing how dear it was to you to keep it a secret from everyone, including your best friend.

💚Mustering up the courage you’d admit, “Eren, is my first love.”

💚“What?! You mean you’ve never liked another guy before him?” Mikasa would ask, completely shocked about you not having previous crush or anything.

💚“No, I haven’t.” You’d admit, shaking your head.

💚“Wait so, your boyfriend is your first everything? Like crush, first kiss, all of that?”

💚“Pretty much.”

💚Eren, of course, had become quite smug by what he had heard. and he was definitely going to ask you about it. Especially because you'd never admit this to him. Of course to ask you he had to find the timing of this. He wasn't going to bring it up in front of others because he knew that would make you feel uncomfortable.

Confronting you:

💚You were watching TV together, well, you were, Eren was just looking at you. At some point, he wanted to get your attention and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. This caused you to look at him, "What?" you asked, curious about what he was doing.

💚He'd shake his head before smiling, "It's nothing, I was just thinking of how nice you look."

💚You look back at the TV being at a loss of words as you blush. He'd chuckle at your shy action, "I guess I really am your first love then, huh?"

💚“What?” You’d say confused, not wanting to act suspicious since your conversation with Mikasa earlier has quite a similar topic. There’s no way he heard you both talking, right?

💚“Am I your first love?” He'd ask, looking at you to give him an answer.

💚“No.” You’d say as you avert your eyes and look back at the screen.

💚He’d smirk, “You’re such a liar~”.

💚“Ah!” You’d yelp as he push you down on the couch and started tickling you. “Eren! Hey, stop it!” You'd laugh trying to pry his hands away.

💚“Tell me who your first love is!” He’d shout, grinning with a wide smile, still tickling you while you squirmed.

💚“Tell me!” He’d insist

💚“No, I’m not telling you!—Stop, no more!” You’d answer stubbornly.

💚“Never!” He’d chuckle, his tickling getting so vigorous to the point of making you breathless.

💚Seconds felt so much longer and agonizing as he found new spots to tickle you, spots you didn’t even know you were ticklish there. This lasted for what seemed a while now and you wanted to get out of the tickles and giggling so much.

💚“Admit it! You need to admit if you want me to stop. Am I your first love!” He’d grin, trying to get you to cave.

💚Being out of breath you nodded your head “yes” frantically at this but that didn’t stop him from tickling you.

💚“You have to say it."

💚Seeing that this probably end you just gave up, “Okay yes! Yes, you are!” You’d admit finally with a blush on your cheeks.

💚“Gotcha.” He’d chuckle, finally letting go of tickling you to catch your breath.

💚“You’re not fair.” You rested your forearm over your face in shame as you didn’t want him to look at you.

💚He moved your arm away to give you a kiss. You could feel him smirking in this kiss. He pulled away to look at you, just as you were about to cover your face. But he caught you before you could, “Dang I didn’t think you’d actually tell me.”

💚“Shut up!” You’d pout, pushing him off you, “How long were you listening for?” You looked back at him, wondering when he decided to listen on your conversation with Mikasa.

💚“Hmm, the whole time, I couldn’t resist hearing everything you had to say, cutie.” He smirked, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into his lap.

💚Your eyes widen, “Everything, everything?” You asked, concerned, hoping he didn’t hear everything down to your fear of arguing and really liking him.

💚“Yeah your worries and how much you really like me, and you know basically how I’m you’re first love.”

💚You frown because you don't want him to know all this. “You weren't supposed to hear that.” You'd mumble, burying your face into his chest as he stroked your hair.

💚He’d glance at you before smiling, "What that you have the "hots" for me?" He'd laugh obnoxiously.

💚"Stop, that’s embarrassing.” You’d say annoyed.

💚"Never.” He’d joke, making you pull away to look at him with a frown on your face.

💚Seeing how you looked upset and annoyed he felt bad about it. But also thought you were really cute. “Awww, babe. I was just teasing I promise. I think you're really adorable.” He'd grin as his index finger tapped your nose.

💚At first you thought he was apologizing to you but really he just called you cute, to which you understood he was still playing with you.

💚“Eren—hey, you’re still teasing me!”

💚He’d laugh seeing you catch on as you crossed your arms, “you’re unfair.”

💚“Okay, look I promise I’ll keep it between us. ” He’d reassure pinky swearing with you.

💚“But still who would have thought.” He’d tease again, “you have such a huge crush on me!” Eren laughed seeing your reaction.

💚“Stop it, Eren!” You’d complain.

@bi-effing-simp @lucifugovs @xxghoulishspritexx @sp00ksic0la @keithandlevi-ontheroof @songbirdgardensworld

@bubs-world

::Previous Post::

#attack on titan headcanons #eren aot #attack on titan #eren jaeger #snk #eren yeager #attack on titan eren #eren attack on titan #eren snk #eren #aot eren #eren yeager headcanons #eren yeager hcs #anime #aot #eren headcanons #eren x reader

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yenqa · 6 months

Text

the line in between

synopsis — in which it’s new year’s eve, 1999. and jay finds you on his doorstep right before midnight.

warnings — lots of mentions of dying (no one actually is but they think they’re going to + no violence), i think that’s it lmk

pairing — jay x gn!reader (i think)

wordcount — 1053

a/n — this is kind of like apple cider au + that one scene of 25/21 combined but also ignore how this is lowkey my fic “smart” in a different font erm

“What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

You let out a nervous smile trying to convince him to let you in. Though he has no idea what you’re doing at his house on New Year's and minutes to midnight, he lets you in. Deciding to push aside the question looking at your anxious expression.

He moves aside, inviting you in. You thank him, hastily taking your shoes off and taking off your jacket. Jay notice’s the matching sweaters you’re wearing, both navy blue though yours looks much more warm than his.

You sit down on the couch, tapping on the cushion next for him to sit down. He takes the seat happily, you sit in silence, both awkwardly watching the new year’s show playing on the tv.

He decides that he’s prolonged the question enough, asking again with a slightly quieter voice, “What are you doing here?”

Chuckling, you answer. “My parents aren’t back from their vacation yet, their plane got delayed. And I got kinda scared for the new year.”

“Scared? You’ve been through it hundreds of times.”

You nod, the situation almost feels too vulnerable. As if you moved a single inch the room would crumble in pieces.

“I heard someone say the world was going to end or go into chaos, I didn’t want to be alone if it was.”

He laughs. And you crack a smile hearing yourself.

You’re not usually one to believe superstitions or conspiracy theories. But so many were freaking out for the end of the century and you can’t say you weren’t either. The silly theories had gone to your head this time, leading you to where you were five minutes earlier, knocking on Jay’s door.

“You believe that?”

Shrugging, you say, “Anything could happen.”

Jay isn’t the kind to believe in that stuff, he finds it interesting but never enough to be scared of anything. Though he finds your gullibleness funny, he finds it cute how you balance eachother out, You’re usually energetic, and he’s always calm and laid back. You like romance books, he likes thriller and horror books. Even though you’re much better at not being nervous when reading those kinds of things—except for situations like now.

To put it simply, you perfectly balance eachother out, like yin and yang. You’re the perfect pair. The perfect pair of friends.

Though you wouldn’t say you’re friends. If anything your relationship is closer to a couple than anything. He’s never mentioned it, and you were still wondering about it yourself.

Is the line between friends and lovers supposed to be harsh? Should it be clear as day in the end or should it sneak up to you before you even know it? The line seems to blur every time your hands linger near each other, or the stares from afar seem to be too frequent to be an accident.

You find it stupid how a stupid line can define your relationship. But it really does. The blurred line makes it impossible for you two to be anything. On top of the line is fear. You don’t want to lose him because you were being too quick to do anything. You don’t want to lose him because he might not be the same way if anything did happen. You just didn’t want to lose the bond you had.

He snaps you out of your thoughts, asking, “Do you want something to drink, apple? I think we have apple cider, your favorite.”

His nickname for you had been there for years. Since he first saw you chug down a cup of apple cider on the New year’s you met, when you were both ten. You’re still surprised when he pulls that nickname out for you, sometimes it’s every day, sometimes you don’t hear it for weeks.

“No it’s okay, I’m too tired to have any.”

He raises an eyebrow, “It could wake you up?”

You stop to think about it for a few seconds, I mean nothing bad could happen while he’s away right? “Fine, but only if you have some. Be quick though! I don’t want to be alone when midnight strikes.”

He salutes, rushing to his kitchen. You sit in silence, zoning out you stare at the plant right next to his tv. Snapping out of it when fans start cheering on the tv. you’re quick to look around when the thirty second timer starts ticking down.

“Jay, hurry up! You’re going to miss it and die alone!” You call, he rushed back, stomping on the floor loudly to get back to the living room.

Just in time he hands you your drink, sitting down just where he was earlier. Taking a few sips and turning to him, you smile, “You made it.”

He grins, “Of course I did.”

You turn away, watching as the timer ticks down somehow so slowly but too fast for you. Your heart starts racing and you’re not sure whether it’s for the new year or the eyes next to you staring at you with a soft smile.

The timer gets to ten and your heart starts beating out of your chest, trying to calm down you turn to Jay, asking , “Can I hold onto your arm? I’m nervous.”

Jay laughs quietly, gently pushing your head on his shoulder so you can comfortably wrap your arm around his, squeezing it gently. You watch as the numbers sum down to 5, quietly counting down the numbers just so the other can hear.

You look back up with him, letting out a breathy laugh, “Happy New Year, Jay”

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

You try to stay awake with all your might, hoping that if the night ends now you’ll at least have some last words, but your drowsiness takes over, and you’re asleep before you know it.

Jay looks down at your calm state, the squeeze you once had on his arm had been completely abandoned, leaving his arm cold and lonely. He watches as your chest rises and falls with every breath, he lets out a lovesick smile. One he would never let anyone see.

Though tonight everyone he knows and loves—including himself, might die or go into chaos just as you said. He decides he wouldn’t mind this being his last view before it all ends.

taglist : @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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doudouneverte · 8 months

Text

a/n: I don't know what to say so just fuck off Rubiales, Vilda and the Spanish Federation

*not my GIF*

Pairing; Laura Wienroither x Chelsea WFC! Reader; Chelsea WFC x AustriaWNT!Reader (also Zinsby x platonic!reader)

Summary: You love Laura since as long as you can remember but she's oblivious so, this season you decide to get more direct but you can't count on your teammates for help.

Type: Fluff AF

Warning: nothing

word count: 1916

note: in a univer where the two LW never tore their ACL

--------

You've known Laura since you were young. You both played together back in Austria, and you quickly fell in love. Well, the problem was that even if you showed her your affection in every possible way (staying polite and respectful, of course), she never got it.

Coming back to England after the national break, you had one idea in mind: definitely confess your feelings for the last time. But you didn't want to be rude or anything, so you needed a plan.

And what is more helpful than an almost-married couple on your team for love advice? So, for your first day back at training, you were quick to find Magda and Pernille, who were chatting about something.

"Moms, I need your help." You declared getting instantly their attention, as well as other teammates' in the room. "I want to confess my feelings to Laura, and I need advice."

There was silence for only two seconds before all the room burst into clapping and cheers. All your teammates knew that you loved the defender since you joined the club last summer, and it was confirmed when they saw how you act around her every time you played against Arsenal.

"And that's when we make our apparition." Sam said, sliding to your right side, while Guro was sliding to your left side.

"Uh, well, actually, I wanted..."

"Don't worry, Y/n, we're the best wingmen, well, wing women, you could dream of." The Norwegian cut you off, making some of your teammates laugh.

"I really appreciate that, but..."

"Where are we starting?" The Australian said this time, "Oh, I know. We can make a big panel with 'Laura, I love you' written on it."

"Yeah, and you could show up at their next match with it." The winger approved.

"But I think we can do better than that." Sam said, she was really thinking deeply about that.

"Don't you think we should stop them?" Pernille whispered to the Swedish defender.

"Yes, but I want to know how far they'll go," Magda admitted.

And that's how the whole training session went: the two players proposed some extravagant ideas, and you politely refused them.

"And if we do something more simple?" You asked, gaining their interest, and you watched around to see something that could help you until you spotted Eve. "We can just write her a poem with flowers." You proposed.

"It sounds boring." Guro said, hurting your feelings.

"Yeah, totally overacted." Sam confirmed.

"Well, at least it's still the most realistic thing to do." Niamh said, coming from nowhere.

"Yes, and it's still pretty romantic if you find the good words." Jessie added.

The two strikers looked at each other for a long moment before agreeing, "Okay, we will try that." The Norwegian said.

You released a breath you didn't know you were keeping and thanked your auto-designated sisters. Now, the second step was to write the best poem, and for that, you had an idea.

Back in the locker room, you were searching for someone when you collided with Magda. "Hey, careful little one. Why are you running?"

"I convinced Sam and Guro not to do one of their plans, and now I need help to write a poem." You replied.

"A poem? It seems pretty romantic." The Danish said.

You didn't stay longer and resumed your way to the locker room, where you found your French teammates. "Eve, I need your help."

"The last time you said you needed somebody's help, which was literally a few hours ago, you finished being chased by Sam and Guro during the entire training session." She gently reminded you, making you laugh.

"View it like this; it's a little funny." You admitted. "But really, I really need your help. I convinced Sam and Guro to give up their crazy for something more... realistic. And now I need someone who knows how to write a poem."

"I don't know why, but it sounds more unrealistic than their crazy ideas." The French player joked. "I'm not really good at writing poems, so let's not talk about writing them in English or German, but I can suggest some famous poets if you want."

"It would be fantastic." You said. After a few names written in your notes and a little drive back home, you were ready. You spent almost all your next free day writing it, and when you were proud enough, you let your teammates give their opinions.

"Honestly, it's pretty cool." Millie said.

"Yeah, we can feel all the love you have for her." Pernille added, making you more proud.

Now only one last step remains in your plan.

A few days later, Laura was ready to train with her teammates when Katie came in the locker room with a letter.

"Girls looked at what I found. They said it was for some of us, but there is not a name, just the initial LW." After hearing this, Manu almost groaned in exasperation.

She was aware of your crush on the defender; she was the one who made you realize it, and she was the one who convinced you to finally confess your feelings. You read her the letter, and her reaction was the same as your teammates'.

Everything was good, but she should be prepared for you messing up at least one thing.

"And there are flowers too." Stina remarked.

Lia Walti and Laura were focused on the flowers, while Leah Williamson was reading the letter loudly. When she finished, everyone in the locker room was shocked by this. It was more than good; for some, it was maybe the best thing they heard, but one question was on everyone's mind.

"Who wrote this?" Katie asked.

Leah looked at the bottom of the paper, and her eyes were wide open. "Y/n Y/l/n." She announced.

"What, Y/n, like Chelsea's player?" Jen asked.

"Apparently yes." The blonde captain replied, a little surprised by that.

"Well, now the important question is, who's LW?" Manu asked, trying discreetly not to put more pressure on you.

"Well, she's not clear about. She talks about a recent injury, but the three of us had a recent injury, so I don't know." Lia replied.

"Well, if I remember correctly, we play them tomorrow, so maybe you could ask her after the game." Frida said.

Meanwhile, Laura was processing everything. It was impossible that it could be her; maybe you just fell in love with one of the older players during your first season here. She didn't know, but somewhere in her mind, she felt like she would be sad if you didn't talk about her.

The next day was match day. You were really worried because Manu told you the next night that you messed up with the most important part of the plan, and now her teammates are trying to figure out for whom you wrote this.

In the locker room, Magda sensed that you were a little stressed by that and tried all she could to relax you. "You can always tell her everything in person if she doesn't understand it." She told you, joking about how many times you tried to be subtile, but the defender never got the hints. "You just need to be you. You're an amazing person, and I'm sure she doesn't need a poem or flowers to see that, but you'll need all your courage today to tell her how you feel after we beat them, okay?"

Like your captain predicted, you won the game, and you even assisted on a goal. But now the real thing could start. On your way to Arsenal's side, you were stopped by some teammates wishing you good luck. You walked to your destination until you were stopped by two figures just before you reached your national teammates.

"I think we need to talk." Leah said with a treating tone. You looked at the two of them, a little confused.

"I think she wants to say that maybe you have something to say to us." Lia corrected when she noticed how you seemed uncomfortable.

"Uh, I don't want to be disrespectful or anything, but what are you talking about?" You asked.

"What do you mean you don't know–" Leah started to say a little irritated by the situation, but she was cut off by her teammate.

"Who is LW?" Lia asked. It took a moment for your brain to understand what was happening. The two players, the irritated tone, LW, and—wait, LW? The letter?

"Oh, my god, are you talking about the letter?"

"Yes, we're talking about the letter. What did you expect?" The blonde captain asked.

"But why did you read the letter?"

"Because you wrote it." The brunette said this time.

"Wait, does one of you have a crush on me?"

"What? Of course not!" They told you at the same time. "But you have a crush on us," the English player added.

"Me? Of course not. Well, don't get me wrong, but my heart already belongs to someone else."

"So why did you write something like this if you already love someone?" The Swiss captain asked.

"Because LW is Laura." You said like it was obvious (technically it was). There was a little silence after your words; the two Arsenal players exchanged an awkward look before they looked behind them to finally notice the Austrian player.

Laura seemed shocked by the news. Fortunately, the two older players left you after they apologized for this misinterpretation.

"Oh." The defender said.

"Yeah. Oh." You repeated.

"But since when?"

"I don't know, maybe since we played together back in Austria."

"Wow, it's been a long time then. But why didn't you tell me anything?"

"Are you kidding me?" You rolled your eyes. "I really spent all my time giving you hints. It was so obvious that Sarah and Laura treated to lock us in a closet until I found the courage to confess. And it was only on our second camp."

"Wow, now I feel stupid." She said, and you laughed a little. "I mean, at the last camp, I heard you talk with Sarah P, and you said that you already had a pretty girl in mind when she asked you about meeting one of her teammates."

"Yes, that's because this pretty girl is you." You said and almost cringed at how it seemed cheesy.

Laura played with the hem of her shirt a moment before she met your eyes. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

"Do you want to go on a date with me?"

You were shaking, unable to control yourself. "Yes, of course yes." You replied, and she smiled.

"Can I ask you another thing?"

"Yes."

"Can I kiss you?" At this moment, it was like your soul was leaving your body; you felt too much happiness for a lifetime. You nodded with a big smile on your face. She approached you, and being smaller than you, she landed one hand on your shoulder while the other cupped your face. She pushed on her toes and gently pressed her lips against yours.

"Finally!" Manu yelled. "It started to be physically painful to see you two in the same room doing nothing but looking at each other like teenage girls."

You pulled away to give her the middle finger until you heard Pernille said "Behave Y/n." You groaned but returned your attention to the girl in front of you, pressing a quick peck on her lips before joining your teammates.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #laura wienroither #laura wienroither x reader #awfc x reader #awfc #chelsea women x reader #arsenalwfc x reader #leah williamson x reader #lia walti x reader

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weebsinstash · 10 months

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Damn, imagine if all this YT drama was happening when Spot's situation was currently going on too. And, well, since our dimension is fucked and we just seem to jump through dimensions without the watch, what if we end up in Spot's place? (The blank void when he entered one of his own spots).

And, it would be funny to look at him, and for him to look at us and just... stare or wave. He is weird like that, and we are too.

Also, we can start bonding on feeling out of place? Sharing the same experience of everyone leaving us behind/ignoring us. Maybe we can even seek solace in his presence, and in his unique persona (even if he is supposed to be a villain).

And the fact that this is the only place we don't glitch out of? Maybe some bullshit physics as this place literally makes no sense, as well as us. It's like we belong here, with him. He could always teleport us somewhere else, but we look so tired, so pitiful and in so much need of some sort of care... he feels bad for us. And maybe, he can try and convince us to stay with him. After all, he *is* the only one who hasn't turned his back on us, right? He isn't a bad guy like those 'friends' of us were saying!

Meanwhile everything is going to shit in the society's HQ :)

I've actually had a few ideas involving The Spot where he's either the yandere or antagonist or a central character in some way and it's really just a matter of me getting around to. Writing the dozens of things I want to write lmao

But bro your mind 😩 you've just been exiled during the YouTwo incident amd you're glitching and, you know, slowly deteoriating over time, and, suddenly, you're in this weird literally nondescript place where you're suddenly... 'balanced out'? You don't feel like you're being pulled in a bunch of different directions anymore, and you look around and it's just some white void with black dots everywhere that you think you can kind of see and hear things out of if you get close enough, but, first and foremost, is that a person? Spot just like. Is staring at you with this very deer in headlights energy and, you both awkwardly wave to each other, "uhhhhhhh... hi?" "...hiiiii, uh, is this 'your place'? Thank you so much, dude, I've been zipping all over the place, i thought i was gonna die, you saved my life" and maybe you even hug him and he's not sure how to process this because you're clearly a variant of Spiderman but you hold no animosity or hostility towards him whatsoever and 👉👈 this is the most positive human interaction he's had in ages.

Not even his powers, but his knowledge alone would be extremely useful in this scenario because like, he could literally just warp around stealing whatever parts he needed to build something that would "hold you together", given his involvement with Alchemax and the colliders specifically

You're just so understandably and genuinely grateful and Spot feels GOOD about being needed, about being someone's savior. He really had been one of the only ones who could help you and he gets a little drunk off that fact. Whether your glitching is a mutation and is your own power or you're simply some weird anomaly, you two form a kinship, and if it IS some sort of weird ability, maybe he even decides to mentor you a little! Gives him something to do, and it totally isn't to help distract him from how lonely and depressed and miserable he is!

But similar to how the other villains discounted him, you kind of discount him yourself in the sense that you don't see him as a threat. Which, he doesn't necessarily want you to, and it's not some sort of disrespect thing, but, the linger he spends with you, the more he wants you to see him as a man, a man with needs, emotionally, psychologically, physically. Whyd you have to give him all those hugs when he hasnt had human touch in forever, huh?! Don't you know how lonely and touch starved he is?! And you just think you can--can walk away from him? Disrespect him after everything he's done for you, disrespect him like everyone else?

You can always try and 'outrun him' with your little glitching, but, even if you manage to lose him, he'll pick up your tracks again, and one day you wake up from finally crashing from exhaustion to find a pitch black figure at the foot of the bed, slowly pulling in everything around it like some sort of eldritch black hole. And Jonathan menacingly waves to you, "I don't think I'll have trouble keeping up with you this time. I made sure of it"

#yandere spiderverse #yandere the spot #the spot x reader #yandere stuff #sinprompts

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ms-scarletwings · 6 months

Text

Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

#invader zim #iz #iz headcanons #iz theory #irkens #iz comics #iz analysis #Li’l meat man #long post #scarlet talks about things #baby schema

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gojou-violin · 1 year

Text

happy birthday, darling

| pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x fem!bodied!reader

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. HEAVY on the breeding kink. HEAVY on the possessive kink. fem!receiving!oral. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, ladies, gents, and my nonbinary sibs). keigo uses his feathers....... for things.....

| summary: marrying your childhood best friend means you have to get a bit more creative with your gift ideas when keigo's birthday rolls around.

| wc: 3.2k

| taglist: @aylitgirl , @thisbicc , @ifeelsofilthy , @sailewhoremoon , @preciousamethyst , @mimic-of-hysy

When you were younger, Keigo used to stare at you. It was the oddest thing. Him sitting there across from you, his elbow propped up on the table, his hand tucked under his chin, a smug grin across his face. To be frank, it was difficult being the two youngest heroes at the Hero Public Safety Commission, but at least you two had each other because the Commission got exactly what they wanted: Two top Pro Heroes who became the face of Heroes after All Might’s retirement. You two were on every billboard, every commercial on TV, every talk show that asked for you, and so on. Over the years Keigo never stopped staring at you, though. Even though he’d likely stared at every feature a billion times just to commit it to memory, he continued to take every opportunity he could to stare at you while grinning. Billboards and posters be damned, he was the only person in the entire world who ever got to look at you up close and personal.

The Commission was even more excited when they found out that the two of you were dating. Their “power couple” was all they hoped for because it meant more opportunities for them to shove you two down the public’s throat to increase Keigo’s chances of beating Endeavor for the #1 Hero spot. That was never your dream. That was Keigo’s. But if making your relationship public helped his odds, then you were more than willing to play along with the Commission’s games… Even when things got too personal or too odd. Some of the requests they made were absolutely uncalled for and seemingly barbaric. They were practically begging you and Keigo to start having kids. Kids! Of all things, while you and Keigo were still in the dating phase, they wanted you to have a family! How outrageous. Yet, every time you argued with the Commission’s board about their invasive questions or decisions, Keigo would never pipe in to help you out— Hell, he never said a word during those meetings.

When discussions of having a very public and televised wedding came about in order to soothe your worries of having a family, that was when Keigo finally stepped in. With his smug grin and nonchalant attitude, he took your hand in his, easily told off the Commission, threatened them to stay out of your business, then dragged you out of the Public Safety office with him. It was your turn to stare in amazement. The way he carried himself so smoothly was like he was floating and he was carrying you along for the ride— He was so cool about it… But how could you expect anything less from your best friend? Throughout the years, he had been the one person who was always in your corner no matter what, which was ultimately why you did say yes when he genuinely proposed a couple of weeks later on Christmas Eve.

Keigo was perfect in every way.

Sure, yes, he was handsome as hell, and every woman in the country was jealous of the fact that they never even had a shot with him because the two of you had obviously been in love since you were kids but didn’t know what to make of it until you were older. But that wasn’t the point! Keigo was funny, charismatic, kind, caring, attentive, and stupid. Like, sometimes he could say or do something that had you wondering how he ever managed to survive adulthood. Yet that was exactly why you loved him because he was spontaneous, and everything he did was for your sake. Stealing you away from the Commission when they wanted to force you to marry him was for your sake. Refusing to entertain the idea of forcing you to have a family was for your sake. Asking you to marry him when he was sure that you meant it and weren’t just going to do it for the Commission— That was for you. He wanted everything to be for you. Living and breathing were for you.

Following Christmas, you knew you had to do something amazing for Keigo’s birthday. It truly sucked that his birthday happened to land after Christmas because growing up no one ever gave him gifts for both celebrations— Well… No one got either of you gifts for anything, really. That was the con to growing up as a pet of the Commission. Keigo’s parents never bought anything for him because his father was abusive and neglectful, and after he was arrested his mother was too poor to buy anything, and then the Commission couldn’t have given two shits about holidays or birthdays. The only gifts Keigo ever got were from you, and vice versa.

But after proposing to you to make Christmas truly special, you knew that you had to outdo yourself for his birthday. So you started dropping hints here and there to see what you could conjure up at the last second to add onto the pile of gifts you’d been collecting all year for him.

“Why’d you never say anything at the meetings in October?” you asked him at 11 P.M. on the 27th as you laid in bed together.

The meetings in September and October had all been about you and Keigo having kids, and the logistics of it all. Your family would be on the front page of every magazine. Your pregnancy would be announced to the world the second the tests came in positive, your progress would be tracked by the press, the whole country would celebrate your children's births, your children would be interviewed every year to see what it was like to be raised by the Pro Heroes. You hated the idea of making your family be public figures when you already dreaded it.

Keigo rolled over to face you. “Why do you think?”

“‘Cause you hate me?”

He laughed. “That, yes, but what else?”

You hid in his chest as you replied sincerely, “I don’t know… ‘Cause of what your parents did to you?”

That had to be too dark for a conversation only an hour before his birthday, so you panicked and tried to backtrack by quickly changing subjects, but Keigo caught you by wrapping his arms around you entirely then answering your initial question so quietly you barely heard him, causing you to think you’d heard wrong.

“I didn’t say anything then because hearing you argue with them made me scared.”

You looked up at him. “What?”

“You sounded so adamant about not wanting kids that I thought—”

“I want kids, Keigo.”

He went pale. “Wait, what?”

You smiled and hit his forehead playfully with your open palm. “Stupid! I know we both want kids because you always used to offer up the idea of playing house together, and you’d imagine up four kids! I was arguing with them because it’s none of their damn business when, how, why you knock me up.”

Keigo caught your hand as it hung up in the air after you had gently smacked him, and you noticed that the notorious stare was back. His eyes were searching yours, then he was inspecting your nose and your cheeks, then your lips. He lingered there for a bit. Your lips. His lips. Fuck, his lips had always been so gentle and soft. However, the way he suddenly kissed you then was anything but swift and gentle. No, Keigo stopped staring just so he could instantly press his lips against yours while he was rolling on top of you, trapping you beneath him.

“You’re an idio—” you tried to mumble, but he kissed you harder.

You were definitely sure of what his birthday gift would be the second your hands played with the hem of his black sleep t-shirt, and his hands wandered down to your hips. He was going to love this gift.

Every time the two of you had sex, no matter how “out there” it was, you always used protection because it was something you both preferred as a means to not give the Commission what they wanted; but this time, as you pulled Keigo’s shirt off and he slid your shorts down, your hands were holding onto the hem of his pajama pants so that he couldn’t slide away to grab a condom even if he wanted to— Which, he never showed an interest while he was staring down at you again.

“So?” you croaked warily.

He grinned. “So…”

As he had you sit up a bit so that he could carefully pull your shirt over your head, you officially decided then and there to give everything you possibly had in life to him. He already had your heart so why not throw everything else in there, too?

“When, how, why…” you muttered.

“When, how, why…” He kissed down your jawline from ear to chin before moving to your neck. “Do you really mean it?”

Your fingers tangled themselves in his shaggy blonde hair. A long time ago, when Keigo first kissed you in your teenage years, you had made an in-the-moment decision to play with his hair as an attempt to keep him close, and that was the first time you’d ever heard him make… Well, a certain noise. It was a mix between a moan and a whine for more. But the discovery of that noise was like striking gold because for the rest of your relationship you had always gone to play with his hair whenever it was just the two of you because you absolutely loved to drag that cute noise out of your boyfriend— No, your fiance. You liked knowing that there was one thing you could do that no one else could. One secret that belonged to just the two of you.

“I really mean it,” you replied as that moan fell from his lips.

Keigo acted like a wild animal immediately after that. The clothes were gone which meant that nothing was in his way now to stop him from absolutely devouring you and making you his. With so much ease, he shimmied between you legs then spread them wide so that he had a clear view of what he always drooled over—

“Fuck, Kei—” Your hands pulled at his hair a bit as he suddenly licked a stripe through your folds with his tongue before playing torturously fast with your clit.

As you moaned and bucked your hips, your face turning to the side, you saw the time: 11:30 P.M. Only thirty minutes ‘til his birthday.

You decided to egg him on by grinding your hips against his face. He smirked and went faster, his fingers now teasing your entrance to see how wet you were for him. Surprise, surprise, he laughed when he felt you practically dripping onto the sheets.

“Does it really fascinate you that much, baby?” he teased, his mouth pulling away from your aching clit. “Having a baby, I mean.”

You whined and tried to push him back down so that you could reach your orgasm, but he fought back against you, pulling your hands out of his hair before pinning them above your head. You pouted up at him. He could be cruel sometimes just because he wanted to see you beg for him a bit, the same way you enjoyed making him pathetically moan just with a tug of his hair. That was why you figured you must have been meant for each other because who else could deal with his bullshit?

“You’re being mean,” you said.

“It’s my birthday. I can do what I want.”

You checked the clock. “You’ve still got twenty-two minutes left, darling,” you teased back.

“Then I’ll have to make do for another twenty-two minutes.”

His hands were still wrapped around your wrists as he leaned down to kiss you slowly and delicately, a more familiar pace for the two of you; yet what took you by surprise was the feather-light touch on your clit that made your head spin. How was he—

And then you broke your kiss to take a look.

Two of his feathers had detached from his wings so that one could flick your clit back and forth while the other glided up and down the insides of your thighs, sending a shiver up your spine that made you arch your back so that your chests were smooshed together. Keigo smiled. He was so proud of himself and figuring out that this was the perfect time to figure out if you like his feathers that much. You’d thought of it before. Him using his feathers on you. There were endless possibilities to what he could do, but you were too shy to ever bring it up with him because it felt odd to ask your partner to use his Quirk-given “magical” feathers to do disgraceful things to you. However, it seemed that Keigo always had the same thoughts on his mind, too, because he did it so thoughtlessly, like he knew all along what you desired and wanted to spoil you, even though it was his birthday and not yours.

“That the spot?” he teased even more wickedly.

“Kei, please.”

“Please? Please, what?”

The feather on your thighs moved to help the other on your clit, melting you into a puddle. It was starting to feel less like his gift and more yours. What an asshole.

“Just fuck me,” you pleaded.

Keigo grinned and sat up on his knees, his right hand fisting his length to make sure that he was hard enough for you before lining himself up with your slick entrance. To your surprise, the feathers didn’t relent. In fact, two more feathers detached from his wings while he continued to tease his tip against where you needed him most, and they drifted down to your thighs, then they pushed, forcing you further apart and up so that you were practically folding in on yourself. There was no wiggle room. Unlike the other feathers, these felt like they weighed a ton in order to prevent you from moving a bit. He wanted you spread and in the perfect position for him to do… Well… Whatever he wanted with you. Per his birthday gift, you didn’t mind, so long as he allowed you to still touch him— Though he was a little shit that would take the opportunity to pin you hands back down if you weren’t too careful.

With his other hand holding your hips still, Keigo slowly pushed into you, careful not to interfere with the feathers that were still playing with your clit. His breath wavered as he entered. A brief yet generous moan left both of you in unison when he couldn’t hold himself back any longer from suddenly giving you every inch at once, regardless of how passionate he had meant to be originally. And once he gave in to every instinct he’d been holding back since you told him, “I want kids,” there was really no going back.

Keigo’s pelvis smacked against yours with each rough thrust that dragged him back so that his tip was barely in, all the way ‘til he was buried so deep in that you thought he was going to break you. Had something snapped in his head? Maybe you hadn’t realized just how eager he actually was to have a family with you, despite what the Commission wanted. If you were going to have a family, it was going to be on the terms the two of you set, not because of something a group of old men in a room wanted.

You dared to reach for his face. He didn’t protest. Your palms found his cheeks, your fingers split around his pierced ears, and you brought him in for another kiss. His body collapsed on yours. He let his feathers and his hips do all the work while you desperately fought for some kind of dominance with your tongue against his, but he was a dickhead and never liked to play fair, so he nipped your bottom lip to force you to give in.

All you had left to give was, “You’re mine. No one else’s. Mine.”

Keigo fucked you faster to the point that the feathers on your clit even picked up their pace and pressure to show their appreciation.

“Mine,” he moaned into your mouth.

You pinched his chin to push him back so that you could look into his eyes. He was so handsome with those black lines on the inner and outer corners of his golden eyes. Maybe your kids would have the same eyes.

“To hell with what they want.”

Keigo’s grin widened, though his pace was getting sloppy, a sign that he was already teetering on the edge but was holding out for you to join him. “T-To hell with— with what they want…” He fell on you again, another feather joining those on your clit so that you could join him soon. “All mine… No matter what happens…”

His grip on your hips tightened, the feathers on your thighs contorted you another inch or so, his face hid in the crook of your neck, and wings came down to cover both of you like a blanket, and suddenly he was letting go. With a heavy groan and a rough final thrust balls-deep, Keigo came, filling you up until you felt it already leaking out around his cock.

You dug your nails into the spot on his back that was just beside his wings as the feathers on your clit hit the right spot and you broke apart then and there. The coil in your stomach popped. A breathless croak of his name came out instead of the desperate moan of pleasure you had intended. And you felt yourself squeezing around his length, draining the last of what he had, earning yourself a cute little moan of mercy from him as a plea to stop over-stimming him— Like you had a choice in the matter. It was his fault for allowing the feathers to keep working you until you couldn’t breathe!

As you tried your best to calm down and catch your breath, Keigo released his Quirk, all of his feathers retreating to his wings. Keigo sat up a bit so that he could reach over for an extra decorative pillow that he shimmied under your hips— All while he was still inside of you. Both of you laughed at each other. He was such an idiot, doing everything he could to make sure this one time you happened to take it all seriously would mean actually having a kid. But that was kind of what you were hoping for deep down. To have something of yours that could also count as a big “fuck you” to the Commission because they would never get to make a cent off of your family, no matter how much they would plead, and that thought of them begging profusely brought a wicked smile to your face.

You looked over at the clock.

Keigo kissed your cheek.

“Happy birthday, darling.”

He barely looked out of the corner of his eye to see that it had just turned midnight. He pinched your sides and kissed you one more time.

#op #fanfic #hawks #mha #keigo takami #keigo takami fanfic #hawks fanfic #hawks smut #mha fanfic #mha smut

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use-your-telescope · 4 months

Text

Together by this Christmas Tree

Summary: The Avengers have an annual tradition of a Secret Santa Gift Exchange, and Theo’s life becomes a real life Hallmark Movie when she draws Loki’s name and has to get him five days of gifts. Because shopping for a god and a prince, especially one that you have a massive crush on, is easy, right?!

Author's Notes: HELLO AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS! This is a one-shot set in the WEMTBB world with our favorite sorcerers, however you do not need to be caught up on (or even have started) WEMTBB in order to enjoy this story! For those of you who are reading WEMTBB, this takes place in the future, when these two are in their “mutual pining idiots” stage; you will absolutely spot some easter eggs, but there are no major spoilers here.

This is for @sarahscribbles Christmas Collection, because I’m strolling in five minutes late with Starbucks for Christmas by posting this the day after Christmas. If you're a regular reader of WEMTBB, I am still planning to update it on Sunday (12/31).

Content: Absolute tooth-rotting fluff, Secret Santa, LOADS of mutual pining, Wanda being a very supportive friend, some pranks along the way, Loki in multiple sweaters, and lots of Loki getting the love, kindness, and attention he deserves.

Word Count: 8,104

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

—

When Steve first made the announcement, at the end of a mission debrief, Theo swore he was joking.

The idea of the Avengers making a point to celebrate Christmas seemed a bit strange - beyond the fact that there were two Norse Gods on the team, it seemed presumptuous to assume everyone else was Christian.

Theo’s feelings about the winter holidays were, at best, ambivalent. Sure, she liked the holiday lights, and she was a sucker for a good holiday song. She enjoyed showering her niece, Katie, with presents - after all, what kind of auntie would Theo be if she didn’t absolutely spoil her niece? And any time Theo could visit Mémère for longer than an hour or two was a blessing in its own right.

But the holidays also reminded her of the family she lost, and being the single friend at every holiday party got tiring (especially when her well-intended friends kept trying to set Theo up with people that Theo had absolutely no interest in). It had reached a point that Theo often volunteered to work the holiday shifts, as chaotic as they were, just so she had the excuse to avoid awkward gatherings.

However, when the other Avengers lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree at the announcement of the Secret Santa gift exchange, Theo kept her mouth shut. She was still relatively new to the team, and it wasn’t the first time she had been subjected to workplace celebrations for holidays she didn’t celebrate.

But of course, this was a group of superheroes celebrating, so it wasn’t a basic Secret Santa; no, of course not, because nothing about them was basic. It was five days of secret Santa.

At least the rules were simple: each person drew the name of another Avenger. Then, you had to give the person whose name you drew a series of gifts with clues about your identity leading up to the final day, when you would give them a gift and a final clue. Then, each person would try to guess who their Secret Santa was. Regardless of whether or not they figured it out, each person would receive one final gift, something a bit more special.

Steve closed the announcement by informing the group they would draw names the following Monday, and would have approximately a month to pick out gifts before they completed the exchange. A certain buzz filled the air as everyone left the conference room, with some reminiscing about funny moments from past exchanges, while others pondered over who they might end up with.

It wasn’t until after the meeting that Theo had the foresight to ask if the Secret Santa exchange was meant to replace getting everyone their own gifts, or if it was in addition to getting everyone their own gifts. Wanda, ever the MVP when it came to explaining unwritten Avengers’ rules to Theo, explained that it was in addition to getting everyone else gifts.

Theo spent the next two days praying she would get someone easy to shop for - after all, she already had to get gifts for a dozen Avengers, plus her hospital colleagues, and her family. She wasn’t sure that she had enough mental capacity to figure out gifts for someone she wasn’t as familiar with.

Of course, some deity had it out for her, because she drew Loki’s name.

Loki, the prince and ‘most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms,’ who could buy or conjure pretty much anything he wanted in the snap of his fingers.

Loki, who, besides being Theo’s best friend among the Avengers, happened to be the person Theo had a massive fucking crush on.

It wasn’t like anything would ever come of the crush - Loki had a firm rule that he did not date. He had no interest in relationships whatsoever. It was a tidbit of information Theo learned early on in her tenure as an Avenger, amidst a conversation about the love lives of the Avengers as a whole. Loki would spend one night with someone, but never allow it to become an ongoing thing - in his words, “everyone has certain needs to satiate, but courting someone is no interest of mine.”

So, despite Theo’s unbidden thoughts of channeling her inner hallmark movie to reveal her feelings to Loki, she needed to figure out how the hell to navigate getting him Secret Santa gifts, a normal gift… oh yeah, and his birthday gift, because that was a week before Christmas.

Inevitably, once they finished drawing names, Theo immediately dragged Wanda down the hall by the sleeve of her red hoodie and into Wanda’s suite, since it was closer than Theo’s.

“What’s going on?” Wanda half-laughed as she closed the door and glanced, worriedly, at Theo, who had started to pace the room. “Are you okay?”

“I need your help with Secret Santa — What the hell do you get someone who could have anything they want for Christmas?” Theo flopped on Wanda’s bed with a dramatic sigh, her mind reeling with how to handle her predicament.

“That depends –” Wanda answered slowly, eyes narrowed as she approached Theo. “Why do you think they have everything?”

“Because he’s a prince and a God who can conjure anything he damn well pleases with the snap of his fingers!” Theo tossed her arms up in the air, gesturing exasperatingly at nothing.

Nothing - just like the ideas she had for Loki’s gifts.

Nothing.

“So you have Loki for your Secret Santa?” Wanda sat down beside Theo, smirking at her.

“Yes!” Theo buried her face with her hands. “I had a hard enough time figuring out a birthday present, and I still haven’t figured out what to get him for a normal Christmas gift! But now I also have to give him a Secret Santa gift?!”

“Gifts, plural.” Wanda reminded her, smirk widening into a rather evil-looking grin. “Remember, it’s a week of lead-up to the final gift, because the goal is to try and have them guess who it is.”

“FUCK.” Theo let her arms drop to her sides. “This isn’t fair—“ she whined, earning a poorly stifled laugh from Wanda.

“Oh come on, it’s not like he’s the only one who is hard to shop for,” Wanda attempted to sympathize, but the giggles that slipped out as she replied did little to help. “Can you imagine having to buy gifts for Tony?”

“Simple, get him booze.” Theo scoffed, propping herself up on her elbows.

Wanda rolled her eyes and adjusted her ponytail, one auburn lock falling aside to frame her face.

“Look, half the fun is writing the little cards that go with each gift to give the person clues about who the gifts are from, and then trying to figure out the identity of your Secret Santa,” Wanda pointed out. “Besides, other than Thor, I’m willing to bet that no one knows Loki as well as you do!”

“That only makes it worse,” Theo complained and flopped back a second time, rolling over to bury her face in Wanda’s burgundy comforter. “Because I know he’s a picky bitch and nothing will be good enough for him.”

The snort that came out of Wanda did nothing to ease Theo’s concern, but it sounded ridiculous enough that even Theo laughed.

“I think that he’d like any gift you give him, simply because it’s from you.”

“That’s cliché as hell.” Theo pressed herself up enough to look over at Wanda, who, despite Theo’s whining and dramatics, still wore a small, knowing smile.

“And true.” Wanda shrugged. “You are, without a doubt, his favorite person on the team, and probably on this planet.”

“Yeah, for all the good that does me.” Theo grumbled to herself, but sat up all the way. “It’s not like I can tell him on day one that I’m his Secret Santa, so the gifts have to be good. No, they have to be perfect.”

“You’re overthinking this.” Wanda chuckled softly, then rose to her feet and held out a hand for Theo to grab onto. “How about we go shopping and see what is out there? Maybe you’ll get some inspiration that way.”

The petulant child within Theo wanted to complain for a bit longer about her predicament, but deep down, Wanda had a good point. If nothing else, it would give her a chance to get out and clear her head before the inevitable descent into holiday madness.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Theo accepted Wanda’s hand and allowed her to pull Theo onto her feet. “I need to get gifts for my family anyways, so maybe i’ll knock it all out at once.”

“Only if I can help you pick out gifts for Katie,” Wanda winked at Theo as she opened the door.

“Deal.” Theo didn’t have to think twice before answering. “Do you have plans for this afternoon? I’m not working, so we could go today…”

Wanda held up her purse and grinned. “Let’s go!”

—

Shopping with Wanda, unsurprisingly, proved to be a fruitful venture.

Sure, the pair went absolutely wild with gifts for Theo’s niece. Would Max kill Theo when he saw just how much stuff Theo got? Absolutely. Did she care? Not a bit; after all, she had to maintain her reputation as the coolest aunt.

More importantly, Theo managed to put together a list of ideas for gifts that referenced inside jokes from the time that Theo and Loki had known each other. Even better - the conversation between Theo and Wanda as they shopped, though wide-ranging and lively, gave Theo the inspiration for her final gift.

In the end, the gifts required some careful planning, calling in some favors, and a lot of sneaking to make it happen - not to mention a few sleepless nights as Theo put the finishing touches on certain details - but she managed to pull everything together, just in time for the first day of gift-giving.

Pepper had really outdone herself with the holiday decorations. On a normal day, the common areas within the tower could be described as minimalist: clean lines, lots of metal and glass, neutral tones everywhere, no knick knacks or soft touches to be found. Not even a throw pillow or blanket could be found in the common areas - whenever Theo wanted a pillow or a blanket, she had to bring it from her suite.

Yet, when everyone filtered into the living room after going out for dinner, they may as well have walked into a luxury ski chalet at Tahoe. In one corner sat a massive, lush evergreen tree trimmed with glistening tinsel, soft white lights, and a collection of beautifully coordinated ornaments in burgundy, cream, gold, navy, emerald, and eggplant.

The fireplace had a beautiful garland of eucalyptus, cypress, and cedar draped across the mantle; tucked among the greenery sat pillar candles of varying heights in burgundy, navy, emerald, eggplant, and gold. Elegant, cream-colored stockings with each Avenger’s name embroidered at the top hung in front of the crackling fire (plus stockings for Pepper and Happy, since they were pretty much unofficial Avengers).

Blankets and accent pillows, some in plaids that incorporated the colors of the ornaments and candles, others in solid colors, all made of luxuriously plush fabrics, found homes on the various seating throughout the living room.

Even the coffee tables had coordinating centerpieces.

Theo quickly found her usual seat, but continued to gawk at the living room’s transformation. When the hell did Pepper (or, Theo supposed, whoever Pepper hired) have the time to decorate the living room? Just that morning, when Theo left for work, the living room had been its usual, minimalist styling. Maybe if she had stopped back in her suite before meeting the others at the restaurant she would have seen the living room decoration in progress.

Hardly a moment later, Loki sat down beside her. Dressed in a forest-green crewneck sweater that perfectly framed the planes of his chest and black dress pants that highlighted his long legs, Loki somehow managed to look holiday appropriate without even trying. His raven curls, just slightly disheveled from the wind and snow outside, framed his elegant features so perfectly; combined with the warm glow of the fire and the soft light of the christmas tree he appeared downright radiant, particularly as he grinned at something Thor said.

“Quite magnificent, is it not?” Loki leaned over and nudged Theo with his elbow, interrupting her train of thought. Theo had to stop for a moment and consider whether he was referring to the himself, or the living room.

“Yeah,” Theo agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she realized Loki caught her staring. “Compared to when I left this morning, it is a night and day difference.“

“I suspect Miss Potts takes great pleasure in decorating for the winter holidays.” Loki offered Theo a soft smile. His soft eyes caught the flicker of the candles atop the coffee table as he studied Theo, and for the second time in less than a couple minutes, she found herself speechless.

Luckily, Dum-E saved the day when he dropped a present on Theo’s lap, and in doing so brought both sorcerers’ attention to the larger group. As it turned out, Dum-E distributed everyone’s gifts - all wrapped in the same paper, to make sure that the gift wrap didn’t give anything away - and as soon as he finished, it was time to open the first day’s gift.

They started with Bruce, then worked their way through a randomly generated list that Steve put together. The soft lights of the Christmas tree, glow of the fire crackling in the hearth, and joyous laughter as each person read their clue and opened their gifts filled the room with such warmth. It was the kind of holiday scene you’d see on a postcard, especially since snowflakes drifted past the tall windows and into the city below.

As they drew closer to Loki’s turn, Theo’s hands began to sweat. What if he didn’t like her gift? Sure, it was kind of corny, but it was a fun reference to how they spent much of their time. He didn’t seem overly thrilled by the idea of Secret Santa in the first place; what if her silly little gifts only made him hate the game?

Well, she didn’t have to wait any longer to find out, because it finally reached Loki’s turn.

Loki picked up the small box, turning it over and inspecting it. He tossed it into the air and caught it in one hand, lithe fingers curling perfectly around the container.

“It is quite light, and rather small,” he observed. “Whatever is in this box does not jostle when moved, so it either fills the box or it is carefully packed in place. Let us see what is inside.”

Loki methodically removed the ribbons, then carefully tore away the gift wrap. He removed the lid in a graceful motion and set it aside, all the while peering into the box. He hummed.

Seeing the fabric folded and coiled inside, he reached in and tugged on the cloth, pulling it from the box. The fabric unfolded as he lifted the gift into the air, revealing the first gift: a pair of crew-length socks - black, with an emerald green heel and toe. On one side of each sock, placed so it would be visible while wearing shoes, was the design of an apple car driven by a worm, as well as text which read: “I’m on my way to the bookstore!”

“Aw, those are cute!” Wanda winked at Theo as she said the words, to which Theo casually agreed.

Loki maintained a relatively neutral expression, though he let out a rather amused hum. He set the socks in his lap, then opened the card. As his eyes scanned over the text, one side of his lips curled up, then the other, until he wore a sheepish smile. He read aloud:

“I know you love the bookstore,

We’ve been there a time or two,

But since I can’t buy the whole store,

I got you a pair of Crew… socks!

Sorry, I know you like poetry, but your Secret Santa isn’t a poet.” Loki chuckled, shaking his head, then continued: “These socks are from Out of Print, which has donated over 5 million books to communities in need and supports a variety of literacy initiatives.”

He looked up from the card and glanced around at the group. “Well, thank you to my mysterious Secret Santa. I quite enjoy a whimsical piece of attire, and I am certain these will be put to good use.”

Next to Loki, Theo let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

First day was not a failure.

Only… four more to go.

—

The second day of gift-giving arrived, and with it came another day of second-guessing whether or not Loki would like his gift.

This time, the idea came from a conversation early in their friendship. After falling asleep in Theo’s suite, Loki joined her for coffee on her balcony, at which point Theo explained a sudoku to Loki. At the time, he commented that there were “some puzzles he was still learning to solve.”

From that morning on, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way Loki approached briefings and missions as puzzles to solve. So when Theo found a pair of rather clever puzzle books (many of which provided a formidable challenge, even for her), she knew that it would be a perfect gift.

Yet, as the day crept on and the gift exchange grew near, Theo felt the seeds of doubt taking root once again. What if he thought the puzzles were stupid? He was a god, after all, and insanely intelligent. The puzzles might have been a challenge for Theo, but they were probably child’s play for Loki.

Still, it was too late to turn back, so by the time Theo sat down with the others and the gifts were distributed, she simply hid her sweaty palms in her sweater sleeves and acted like it was any other night in the tower.

Loki, for what it was worth, seemed perfectly relaxed when he took his usual seat beside Theo; this time, he opted for a plain gray t-shirt and a black cardigan, paired with what were (secretly) Theo’s favorite pair of dark, slim-fit jeans. When Loki crossed one ankle over his knee, Theo noticed his emerald green and black socks and her heart skipped a beat - he wore the socks she gave him.

That was a good sign, right?

Once again, Dum-E distributed the gifts, then each person took their turn opening their gift and reading the card; this time they started with Yelena, but otherwise the order was the same. After what felt like ages, Steve finally gave Loki the go-ahead to open his gift.

Like the first day, Loki went through the same routine of examining the box, then peeled away the wrapping paper.

For the sake of maintaining a bit of mystery (and making it slightly less obvious that the gift was a pair of books), Theo put the set into a clothing box and padded the sides. It wasn’t that sneaky, since the box was heavier than it would have been with apparel inside, but at least Loki wouldn’t know until he opened the box.

He opened the box and removed the first book.

“The Master Theorem - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit,” he read the title, then held it up for all to see, then held up the second book and read off the title. “The Master Theorem: Elite - Book of Puzzles, Intrigue, and Wit.”

He returned the books to his lap, pausing for a moment to flip through the pages and glance at the contents.

“You gonna open the card?” Tony nodded towards the card that came with the box, which barely poked out from beneath the pair of books.

“Ah, yes, apologies.” Loki offered a half-smile, then retrieved the card and read aloud:

“While the identity of your Secret Santa is, well, a secret, it’s no secret that you, Loki, are pretty smart - like, ridiculously smart. And you’re a quick learner… Plus you’ve got a knack for problem solving. With that in mind, you seem to be a master when it comes to puzzles; even though you once told me there are still some puzzles you are learning to solve, the way you light up when you encounter a good logic puzzle or mystery makes me think there are few things you enjoy more than a good challenge.

“This series of puzzle books is notorious for its difficult logic puzzles - the New York Times called the first Master Theorem book “Mensa’s evil twin,” and the Elite edition is supposed to be exponentially harder. But with your sharp wit and attention to detail, I’m sure you’ll have it figured out in no time… And by the time you finish, maybe you’ll figure out the identity of your Secret Santa as well!”

Loki grinned as he folded the card and set it aside. “Thank you, my mysterious benefactor - I imagine I will be entertained for quite some time.”

For the rest of the evening, whenever Theo snuck a glance at Loki, she caught him flipping through his new books with a subtle smile and a twinkle in his eye, only half-paying attention to the others as they opened their gifts.

Day two: rousing success. Only three more days to go.

—

For the third day of gift-giving, Theo took a bigger risk.

At one point in Theo and Wanda’s shopping adventure, they stopped at a bakery to grab a snack and some coffee. While they waited for their drinks, they got on the topic of how, earlier that morning, Thor offered Loki a frosted pop-tart. In response, Loki nearly disintegrated the thing on sight, calling it an abomination to pastries everywhere.

And that was from Loki, the guy who was notorious for his sweet tooth.

The conversation gave Theo an idea.

Ever since Loki roped Theo into his pranks, Theo had wanted to find a way to turn the tables and prank him. And what better way to prank him than to bait-and switch some sweet treats?

With a call to Theo’s favorite Bodega cashier, Carlos (who still hadn’t gotten up the courage to ask out that girl, but had at least he learned her name was Liza), Theo managed to get her hands on one of the big cardboard boxes that they shipped pop-tarts in. Importantly, it said pop-tarts all along the outside, so when Loki saw the box he would initially think it was a whole case of pop-tarts.

Instead of filling it with pop-tarts, Theo convinced Mémère to bake up all sorts of traditional Aneterran holiday treats to fill the box. Given Mémère already planned to make the treats, it was easy for the family matriarch to accommodate the request. However, when Theo explained her plan, a knowing, almost devilish grin spread across Mémère’s face; the next thing Theo knew, there were treats that Theo hadn’t seen since she was a child.

Packing the treats into the box required quite a bit of attention to detail - it had to have the weight and heft of a case of pop-tarts, and it had to be packed tightly enough to not move around, but she also didn’t want to crush the treats.

There may have been some enchantments involved to make it work, but hopefully Loki wouldn’t notice.

Not wanting to make the prank too convincing, Theo made sure to leave clues that the box had been altered somehow; knowing Loki, realizing the box had been tampered with would make him curious enough to look inside.

When everyone gathered for the third night of gift-giving, the laughter and merriment from the first two nights returned almost immediately. But when it came to Loki’s turn to open his gift, Theo’s confidence from the day prior collided with her nerves, to the point that she clutched her mug of spiked hot chocolate so her hands wouldn’t shake.

Just like the first two nights, Loki inspected the wrapped gift, lifting it up and giving it a gentle shake. “Much larger, and rather heavy,” he noted. “Yet, there’s a card that indicates I ought to open it before the gift. I suppose I ought to follow my Secret Santa’s request.”

He set the gift back in his lap, and quickly opened the card.

“Heard you have a sweet tooth…” Loki read aloud, then glanced down at the gift and hummed. “Well, let us see what is inside.”

Loki started to tear away the wrapping paper, but paused part-way through; his face twisted into something unreadable when he saw the writing on the box.

Theo bit her lip to not give herself away.

“Pop-tarts?” Thor exclaimed, cocking his head to the side with curiosity. “Brother, I did not think you to be a fan of the Midgardian pastry.”

“I…” Loki trailed off, face falling as he unwrapped the rest of the box. “Interesting.”

Theo’s heart stuttered in her chest - what if he didn’t think to open the box? Would she give herself away if she said something? Oh god, he looked like a kicked puppy — she should have realized that he might take it wrong because Thor likes pop-tarts and he’s the popular brother, shitshitshit—

“Loki, maybe you should open the box,” Bruce suggested, “There’s a weird wrinkle by the cardboard seam that makes me think it was opened, then closed again.”

If it wouldn’t have given her away, Theo would have leapt to her feet and hugged the man for his suggestion.

“Yeah, that box looks like it has been messed with,” Sam agreed, “and I think everyone knows you hate pop-tarts.”

The kicked-puppy expression softened as Loki took a second look at the box and noticed the obvious tampering that Bruce and Sam pointed out. A hint of pink rose on Loki’s cheeks - if Theo didn’t know better, Loki looked almost embarrassed at the realization - but he went ahead and opened the box.

Theo held her breath, all of her attention trained on Loki as she waited for his reaction.

Peering into the box, Loki’s shoulders suddenly dropped and relief flooded his features; he reached in and retrieved a treat similar to a chocolate scone, as well as a second card.

“Pleased to report that I was mistaken; it appears the box is filled with a variety of homemade treats, as well as a second card.” He let out a soft, almost hesitant chuckle as he opened the note and read aloud:

“HA! Nearly got you, didn’t I?!” Loki laughed a second time, this time a little louder, and nodded his head. “You’ve pulled off some of the best pranks, but your Secret Santa is known for a good prank or two.

“Jokes aside, did you really think your Secret Santa would do that to you? Of course not - I know you have a discerning taste when it comes to sweet treats (far more discerning than your brother, of course)! These are some of my favorite holiday snacks from growing up; I think you’d like them too. If nothing else, I promise they taste better than pop-tarts.”

Loki returned the note to the box, then unwrapped the treat in his other hand. He took a bite, and his face almost immediately lit up. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed, and cleared his throat to speak.

“Well, mysterious Secret Santa,” he said, “I will confirm that this treat is quite divine. However, you best watch yourself– “ Looking around at their teammates, a dark, sinister grin curled over Loki’s face. “– I am known as the Trickster god for a reason, and you may very well have started a war.”

When Loki briefly locked eyes with Theo, her heart skipped a few beats; in just a few moments he went from beautiful to downright devilishly handsome, and his threat should not have been nearly as hot as it was.

Sweet baby Jesus, she needed to get her shit together.

“Any guesses on who it is?” Bucky asked, tapping his vibranium fingers along the side of his still-wrapped present.

“I’ve a few contenders,” Loki smoothly answered, the earlier signs of discomfort completely gone, “but I will wait to put forth any claims.”

“Who cares! The real question is are you gonna share!?” Shuri pointed at the pastry in Loki’s hand, then held out her own hand. “That looks amazing!”

“Maybe once the Secret Santa is revealed, they can bring us all some treats.” Wanda replied, though she gave Theo a pointed glance, to which Theo glared back - after all, she didn’t want Wanda to give her away. “But for now, I think Loki should get to enjoy all of his gifts.”

Loki, who was busy searching through the rest of the box, didn’t seem to notice Wanda staring at Theo.

Shuri glanced at Wanda, then at Theo, then grinned as she made the connection.

“Fine, but they better bring me some extras,” Shuri relented. “That thing looks amazing.”

Theo smiled and rolled her eyes, just in time for Steve to inform Wanda that it was her turn to open her gift.

Day three, though nearly a bust, worked out.

Only two more to go.

—

After the scare of the third day, Theo went into the fourth day feeling more comfortable about her gift. Sure, Loki may shrug at it, and there was a chance he wouldn’t use it. But at least she wouldn’t run the risk of upsetting him by making him believe his preferences were the same as his brother’s.

In some ways, the gift seemed particularly timely: a winter storm raged outside the tower, with howling winter winds and heavy snow that made sitting in the living room feel like they were inside a snowglobe. Even with the heat on and the fire roaring in the hearth, everyone bundled up in sweaters and plush blankets, sipping on mugs of cocoa and tea in between opening gifts.

On the fourth night, Loki’s turn to open his gift came even earlier. Similar to the first three nights, he inspected the box - small, slender, almost like a fancy box for a fountain pen.

After making quick work of the wrapping paper, he glanced at the lid of the box:

“Museum of Modern Art Design Store,” he read, then shrugged and removed the lid of the box.

Nestled among chic black packing material sat a stainless steel tea infuser. Its design was what drew Theo to the gift - long, slender, with a hook on the top for easy removal, it looked downright elegant. And with the amount of tea Loki drank, an upgrade to his usual steeping methods seemed like the perfect sort of gift - thoughtful and useful.

Loki hummed, carefully slipping the tea infuser out of its packaging and inspecting it. The stainless steel glowed beneath the Christmas lights and reflected the smile curling over Loki’s face. He twisted the cap off, then closed it again, nodding to himself as he set it aside and opened the card. Like the first three days, he read the message to the group:

“A tea infuser that combines form and function?! It’s almost as stylish as you are (almost)! As the resident tea expert on the team, it seemed only appropriate to give you something for making your favorite (non-alcoholic) drink - after all, you’ve brought me, your Secret Santa, more than a few drinks over the course of knowing each other!”

The hint, in Theo’s opinion, was almost painfully obvious; Loki brought Theo drinks all the time. Coffee at the hospital when he knew she had a long day. Whiskey or wine when she needed to unwind. Tea when it was late and neither of them could fall asleep. Water when Theo just used her inhaler and needed to rinse out her mouth. Throughout the entire time she had been an Avenger, Theo never saw Loki bring anyone else drinks quite so often - not Thor, not Wanda, not anyone. However, the clue made so much sense, and there was only one more day, so it wasn’t like she had to keep the secret for much longer.

What Theo didn’t account for, however, was almost every other person in the room making the connection between the clue and the identity of Loki’s Secret Santa. Over a dozen pairs of eyes all trained in on Theo as Loki glanced down to set the card and gift aside; the heat of their stares nearly made Theo lose her composure.

When Steve asked if Loki knew who his Secret Santa was, he simply smirked and replied “I’ve my suspicions, but I find I rather enjoy the suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal.”

Somehow, she held it together, but just barely. Sure, Theo was grateful that Loki seemed to enjoy the gifts up to that point, but “suspense and anticipation of the grand reveal?” If Theo was under pressure before, now she was on the verge of being crushed under the weight of expectation, and the whole damn team knew it.

Theo shot a terrified look at Wanda, who only sent back an impish grin.

Shit.

One more day to go.

—

The final day of Secret Santa arrived, and with it, the grand reveal. Apprehension loomed over Theo’s head like a storm-cloud; after all, the pressure was on - not only to give the perfect gifts, but to set up the perfect reveal as Loki’s secret Santa.

Despite the overall success of the first four days, by the time the last exchange began, Theo was too nervous to sit down. Instead, she leaned against the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey clutched in both hands, offering little more than one-word answers whenever someone tried to ask her something. The only time she even considered sitting down was when Loki asked if she would join him on the couch, but then all the potential ways she might make a fool of herself flooded her thoughts and she politely declined, claiming that she needed to stretch her legs a bit.

If Theo didn’t know better, Loki seemed disappointed that she didn’t want to sit by him, but it was probably her mind playing tricks on her; after all, Theo was the one with the crush, not Loki.

At least from across the room, Theo could easily admire Loki in his thick, fair isle sweater - seasonally appropriate, of course, but like all of his attire, it fit him perfectly and highlighted his long, lithe form in all the right ways. Between her nerves about the gift and how distractingly handsome Loki was, she barely noticed when the first two Avengers opened their gifts and found out who was assigned as their Secret Santa.

For the final night of the exchange, Loki was the third person to open his gifts.

While Loki focused on the large box in front of him, everyone else stared at Theo. If she could have, she would have melted into the floor; instead, she stood by the kitchen island with her mug of hot chocolate and whiskey in both hands, shooting dirty looks at the rest of the group so they wouldn’t give her away.

… Not like Loki hadn’t already figured out that Theo was his Secret Santa, because he likely knew. If he didn’t know, he was about to figure it out, but that was beside the point.

Of all the gifts Theo chose, today’s were the most nerve-wracking because they were the most personal: the pre-reveal gift referenced something Loki gave her when she ended up in the hospital with an asthma exacerbation and pneumonia a few months prior. The post-reveal gift referenced the time all the Avengers visited New Asgard, and Loki took her on a late-night walking tour of the community.

The note on the card was, well, maybe a bit too sentimental - in hindsight, maybe she should have saved the message for a later card that she could have given him in private. But by that point the card was taped to the box in Loki’s lap, and Theo couldn’t do a damn thing about it, other than brace herself for the inevitable fallout.

At least she had the sense to write a disclaimer at the top of the note: “You might want to read this to yourself first, then decide if you want to read it out loud.”

After four days, Loki’s examination of the gift box had become a routine: turn it all around, lift it up in the air, give it a shake - and once he seemed satisfied, he peeled away the wrapping paper.

“Well, I do not have any guesses as to what is inside this box, so I suppose I ought to open it.” Loki remarked, tugging away the last bit of wrapping paper. He conjured a dagger to cut the tape sealing the flaps at the top of the box, though he was careful not to cut deeply and risk damaging the contents inside (which was good, because that dagger would have sliced through the gift like hot butter).

Unlike the previous days, where he immediately looked inside the container, this time he made a show of looking at the others as he reached inside. Theo watched Loki’s arm muscles tense through the wool of his sweater as he grabbed the gift, while his brows furrowed with confusion.

As he turned back toward the box, he slowly pulled out the present: a snake squishmallow, in green, of course - after all, green was his color.

“That’s cute!” Natasha commented, though Loki didn’t seem to notice. He held the plush toy in both hands, turning it side to side as he gave it a once-over. Theo swore she could spot the gears turning in Loki’s head as he tried to make the connection between the toy and his Secret Santa.

“Yeah, but why? I don’t see the connection.” Yelena added, pointing at the card. “Open the card. I want to know what it says.”

Loki slowly set aside the snake, as if still thinking about the gift, and pulled out the note.

Theo watched as Loki methodically scanned the note. At first, he read with heavy brows drawn tightly together; after a few moments, the light from the christmas tree reflected off his sea glass eyes, glittery and shining amidst the soft glow. A shaky, small smile grew as he made his way through the message until it practically took over his face.

“Well, what does it say?” Natasha asked, craning her neck to try and read what was written on the card.

Loki, however, ignored her. Without warning, he closed the card and rose to his feet. In a couple of long strides, he stood before Theo, who could no longer bite back her nervous smile as he drew near.

Theo barely had a chance to set down her mug before Loki scooped her into his arms and crushed her in an embrace, the strength of which forced a small “oof!” out of Theo from the impact. She didn’t waste a moment before returning the embrace, selfishly nuzzling into his chest and drinking in the scent of cologne on his sweater - cedar, bergamot, and smoke - as they stood, arms wrapped around each other and swaying gently from side to side.

Loki leaned down, his nose brushing gently along Theo’s hair, then drew a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he whispered in her ear. “Truly. Thank you.”

Theo’s heart damn near exploded.

“Elsa, I really hope that Rapunzel’s your Secret Santa,” Tony, ever the troll, interrupted, “or this is going to get awkward.”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me.” Theo laughed, her mind reeling as Loki shifted - if Theo’s mind didn’t deceive her, his lips brushed against the crown of her hair. Still, he hadn’t let go, and as long as Loki held on, Theo had no plans of going anywhere.

“Now I wanna know what she wrote on that damn note,” Sam complained between shoving handfuls of caramel corn in his mouth. “Because damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Loki react like that.”

“Can we let him open the other gift first?” Theo asked, still hugging Loki as she looked over at Sam. “After all, there is a part of the message that won’t make sense without seeing the final gift.

“Fine, but afterwards I wanna read the damn note.” Sam grumbled and leaned back in his seat while Bucky leaned over and snatched some caramel corn from him.

Theo begrudgingly pulled away from Loki, silently lamenting the lack of warmth that came with his touch. She rounded the Christmas tree and crouched down to where she hid the final box - a thin, rectangular box that was a bit larger than a poster - and brought it over to Loki, who had returned to his original seat. Theo sat down beside him, nervous but excited to see how he reacted to the last gift.

This time, Loki didn’t spend a moment examining the package - he went straight to tearing off the wrapping paper. With paper crumpled up and tossed aside, he carefully slid the lid off the box.

Centered on a bed of white tissue paper, was a painting - a canvas covered in thousands of small dashes of paint, the result of more than a few sleepless nights as Theo raced to finish the painting on a tight deadline. During the day, Theo hid it beneath a stack of other canvases so if Loki stopped by her suite, he wouldn’t notice; the moment night fell, Theo was elbows deep in oil paint as she added layer after layer of color.

“It’s New Asgard!” Thor exclaimed as he peered over Loki’s shoulder.

“Those are the gardens…” Loki breathed, one hand hovering over the canvas as if he wanted to touch it and prove to himself that it was real.

“The gardens that you created, and that your people and countless tourists adore.” Theo added, her cheeks slightly pink.

Loki’s focus went to the bottom corner, where Theo scrawled her name. It was tiny and borderline illegible because of the paint, but if someone had ever seen her handwriting, they would know instantly who it was. Loki traced his fingers over the letters almost meditatively.

“You made this?” When Loki looked up at Theo, she caught the slightest shine in the corners of his eyes, though his expression was nothing but pure awe. “Was this from memory?”

“God, my memory isn’t that good - I mean, yeah I painted it, but it wasn’t from memory,” Theo rubbed the back of her next, heat rising on her cheeks as Loki continued to gape at her. “I got Val to send me some pictures for reference, and then I worked on it every night after everyone was asleep. I wasn’t sure it would be done in time, if I’m honest, because oil paint takes forever to dry, but it dried just in time. The paint is still going to need some time to fully cure, so I’d be gentle with it.”

For the second time in minutes, Loki pulled Theo into another heartfelt embrace.

“I am… I am speechless. I’ve no words, truly.” He laughed, a rumbling sound that Theo felt as much as she heard it. “Thank you.”

“Okay now we need to know what the hell was on that card.” This time it was Shuri, who looked like she was one step away from snatching the card and reading it out loud herself.

Loki unfurled his arms from around Theo so he could set the painting on the table in front of them, then retrieved the card.

“I think you ought to read it,” Loki held the card out to Theo, his cheeks now flushed with crimson. “I imagine it will sound better in your voice, since you wrote the message.”

Theo rolled her eyes, but accepted the card. She got the sense that Loki felt a bit sentimental himself, and was probably a bit out of his comfort zone; re-reading the message aloud might be more than he thought he could handle. So, despite her heart still fluttering like a goddamn school girl, Theo tried her best to steady her breathing, then cleared her throat and began:

One of Thor’s favorite stories to tell is when you were children and turned into a snake to trick him. One of my favorite things is watching the little smile you get every time he tells the story, like you know you shouldn’t think it’s funny and it makes the story even funnier. I bet you’re making that same smile right now as you think about the story!

This clue will probably give me away, but you once gave me a gift much like this - a plush toy of an unexpected creature, because you realized that the creature shared a connection to my sister. You didn’t make a big deal out of it - telling me you “happened to pass by a shop window and it just seemed like something I would like,” but it meant the world to me; to this day, it is easily the best gift I’ve ever received.

In many ways, that gift is such a great example of why I am so lucky to have you as a friend - you are so incredibly thoughtful and kind, and when you sense that someone is having a tough time you go above and beyond to help, all without making a big deal about it… God knows you did that for me constantly when I first got here! There are, obviously, other reasons that you’re an amazing friend (your sense of humor, intelligence, and patience in putting up with me are also high on the list).

I know none of my Secret Santa gifts have been big or flashy so far, and your final gift isn’t exactly big or flashy either. If I’m honest, I panicked when I drew your name because, well, what do you get someone who could have any gift they wanted? But the more I thought about it, the more I came back to just how lucky I was to have the gift of your friendship (yeah, corny as fuck, sorry - you’re the silvertongue, not me!). I can’t ever give you a gift that would compare, but I can at least make sure you know just how grateful I am for you and how much of a difference you make. Without a doubt, my life is better because you’re in it, as are the lives of many others.

So, for your final gift, I made you something that I hope will remind you of not just the impact you’ve made on me, but the impact you’ve made on countless others, every time you see it.

Merry Christmas Loki.

Yours,

Secret Santa.

P.S. I hope you can forgive my sentiment. Not all of us can be as cool as you.”

By the time Theo finished reading the message aloud, her entire body felt like it was on fire from the combination of her nerves and the others’ burning stares. With trembling hands, Theo slowly closed the card and set it on her lap, eyes focused downward the entire time.

“I didn’t realize it was possible to win at Secret Santa… ” Peter finally broke the silence, beaming as he looked at the pair. “... But I think Theo just won Secret Santa.”

“I think everyone’s going to want you as their Secret Santa next year,” Steve chuckled, nodding along. “Still, we aren’t done with this year’s Secret Santa - I believe Wanda, you’re up next?”

With that, the attention shifted away from the two sorcerers sitting side-by-side on the couch, and onto the rest of the festivities. While Wanda made a scene trying to deduce clues about her gift, Loki casually slipped his hand over to Theo, interlacing his fingers with hers. In turn, Theo leaned her head on Loki’s shoulder and settled into his side.

By that point, she was only-half watching as Wanda opened one last gift. Frankly, Theo hadn’t heard who Wanda’s Secret Santa was, but she wasn’t that interested.

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” Theo whispered, giving Loki’s hand a squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, Theo,” he murmured, turning so his lips brushed Theo’s temple. “I think this might be the first year that I’ve understood why one might enjoy Midgardians’ holiday festivities.”

Cozily tucked into Loki’s side, amidst the golden glow of the holiday lights and the spirited laughter of friends, Theo had to agree: maybe the holidays weren’t so bad after all.

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #tooth rotting fluff #holiday fic #christmas fic #christmas fluff #loki x ofc #mutually pining idiots

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esmedelacroix · 4 months

Text

16 days til' Christmas

figuring out why boyfriend!hobie brown doesn't celebrate christmas ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

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Christmas Eve at Spider Society was always described to be the most depressing thing ever which was not true since Miguel had the whole place decorated and festive to lighten the fact that so many of you are still there making sure that anomalies weren’t destroying the Christmas cheer in other universes.

You didn’t mind fighting anomalies during the holidays. You liked the work you did and you loved the Spiderman-themed con I’m on eggnog art that was being served in the cafeteria.

Everything was perfect for the holidays and you all were having a little get-together on the roof to celebrate. Who would’ve known that Miguel and Peter B were so crazy about Christmas? You didn’t mind because you were right on that boat with them.

You had a mission earlier that day and when you went to med bay, the nurses were dressed up like Santa’s helpers and they had holiday-themed band-aids. You had no idea why anyone told you that Christmas at Spider Society was so terrible if there was so much effort put in to make it fun.

You never questioned any rumor you heard from Spider Knight ever again when you made the mistake of walking up to Hobie’s table with a plate of holiday sugar cookies for the two of you to share with an ugly sweater on.

“Hey Hobie, thought I’d make us some cookies to share,” you said as you slid the plate of reindeer and Santa-themed treats towards him.

Jessica Drew walked by looking at the cookies you had offered Hobie and said nothing more than, “Good luck,” as she patted your back and chuckled to herself.

“No thanks,” Hobie said, sliding the cookies back to you.

“What don’t tell me you don’t believe in Christmas,” you quipped, giving him a playful nudge thinking you made the funniest joke on the planet.

“I don’t,” he replied sternly with the blankest expression.

Your heart dropped and your mouth hung open. There’s no way, he has to be joking. You thought to yourself as you shook your head slowly in disbelief.

“Hobie, that’s not funny cmon. Do you not like sweets? I mean I make the best cookies on the planet. Mayday helped me make em’” you insisted.

“I was being for real mate, I don’t celebrate Christmas,” he sighed, kicking back in his seat, chuckling at your level of surprise and denial.

Holy shit, he was being for real. What am I going to do with that custom electric guitar I got him as a gift?! You thought to yourself.

“I’m sorry, is it some kind of religious difference that I’m just being insensitive about?” you asked thinking that maybe he was Jewish or something(yep you’re going crazy).

“You know how I feel about religious love,” he replied, flicking your forehead. Of course, how could you forget such an important detail?

“Then why? Why don’t you celebrate it? Did you give someone your heart then the very next day they gave it away?” you jested poking fun at him.

“No Christmas is a scam. First of all, there is no proof that Jesus was even born on the 25 of December, it originated from a pagan holiday, it’s a celebration of the Norwegian God Odin, and the government has completely brainwashed America into buying gifts for their loved ones so that they can profit off of the millions of dollars made during the holidays. I refuse to be just a part of a number that keeps the government rich and helps them waste more of their money on our so overfunded military,” Hobie explained.

Hobie was always outspoken and his opinions as much as you hated to admit it, made sense. They made so much sense but Christmas was where he was wrong.

You tried your hardest to just respect his opinions and hold it all in but you couldn’t. “Hobie, you’ve got it all wrong. None of the information that you listed is news to me at all. But I still celebrate Christmas. Want to know why? Because Christmas is what you make of it,” you stated sternly.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. No offense babe,” he replied.

“It’s not stupid because even if it has been proven that Jesus wasn’t born on that day that doesn’t mean that it’s not bad to have a holiday where you remember and celebrate him if someone were to celebrate Christmas for religious reasons,” you argued.

He hummed and nodded in stumble agreement. “You can have all this talk about pagans and Odin but no one outside of those cultures ever thinks about those two points on Christmas Day,” you said.

“It doesn’t mean that's not still the origin,” he rebutted.

“Even if they are the origin no one ever really thinks about that. I know I don’t. We may be giving the government money but we already do that by simply being alive in this country,” you said.

“If Christmas isn’t about any of the things that it’s actually about then what is Christmas about for you? What do you make Christmas out to be?” he asked.

“Christmas to me? Christmas is a holiday that teaches its participants about the importance of gift giving and the feeling you get when you give a gift that someone loves as opposed to receiving one,” you started.

Hobie continued listening, nodding his head indicating that he was listening to your interpretation of the holiday. He subconsciously picked a cookie up and started eating it entertained by your passion for Christmas.

“Christmas is a time to gather with the people you love most and bake, dance, drink, laugh, and love. Christmas taught me that any gift with thought behind it is a good one. I cherish an expensive perfume the same way I cherish a handmade card. The value of a gift is dependent on the love put behind it,” you continued.

“To celebrate Christmas is to see your loved ones stare at something constantly when shopping and surprising them with it as a gift because nothing feels any better than seeing that smile on their face knowing that you made someone you love so happy that they hug you or give you kiss,” you finished almost tearing up at the happy memories.

“Okay, okay, I can work with that,” Hobie started.

“Really?!” you asked as glitter and heavens sparkled in your eyes with happiness.

“Yes but the government is still tricking us all,” he joked as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

“Oh, whatever,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you snuggled in with him.

“I already knew that you were a holiday fanatic so I got you some gifts despite my former reluctance to celebrate Christmas,” he admitted.

“Thank you Hobie, seriously,” you said.

“Now can we go to that Christmas Eve party on the roof or what?” you asked as you took his hand and dragged him to the elevator.

“Ugh, I’ve made it a mission to never be caught at one of these functions,” Hobie nearly whined.

As the two of you exited the elevator together hand in hand it seemed like the whole party stopped and everyone turned to look at the two of you in disbelief.

“Uh Hobie, this is the Christmas party,” Peter B said double-checking to see if he knew where he was.

“It’s all good, he’s not the Grinch anymore! At least not as much as before,” you reassured as you took the drink that Peter B offered you.

“Alright then,” Peter started looking at him skeptically as Hobie nodded at him confirming your words.

“Welcome to the party my friend!” Peter B exclaimed, handing him a drink. Miguel gave the two of you a nod and you spent the rest of the night singing along and dancing to the Christmas songs that Hobie sadly didn’t have the pleasure of knowing the words to.

"How was that for your first Christmas Eve celebration?" you asked as the two of you left the roof.

"It was actually kind of fun. Odin didn't pay a visit either," he quipped.

"Alright enough of that," you said, giving his arm a playful slap.

"Okay, I had a lot of fun. Thank you for dragging me up and telling me about the magic of Christmas," Hpbie finally said.

"You're welcome. I hope you love Christmas even more when you open your gifts tomorrow," you said.

"Gifts" plural? I thought you were the only one that got me a gift," he said confused.

"Me and Miguel get you a gift every year but you're never there to open it. Don't tell the boss man I told you that all he'll do is deny and deny and I will never see the light of day," Peter B said as he attempted to rock Mayday to sleep after all the sweets she had at the party.

For the first time after hearing that news Hobie felt that feeling. That fuzzy little Christmas feeling where it feels like there are fireworks in your heart and you realize that someone saw something, thought of him, and bought it for him as a gift for the sole purpose of seeing his eyes light up on Christmas morning. Hobie was starting to love this feeling. It was a Christmas miracle.

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taglist:

@aripet22

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #astv hobie #atsv hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown across the spiderverse #hobie brown atsv #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie my beloved #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader #christmas fluffdown

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walaskart · 1 year

Text

The Tradition[Halloween Special] NSFW

4190 words- You and Sodo get together once a year to watch halloween movies. This year is a little different.

There he was, standing alone in one of the hallways of the mausoleum, a perfect chance for you to scare him.

“Happy All Hallow’s Eve, Sodo!”

You sprinted up behind him as he stood solemnly. Nothing could scare this ghoul. He turned around slowly, as you ran into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“And what are you doing alone, my little demon? Don’t you have chores to do around the ministry?” Sodo placed a hand on the top of your head, his own way of showing his appreciation back to you. He didn’t seem like a hug-person anyways.

So you let go and step back and explain, “I finished everything early to find you. In order for the –“

“For the tradition, yeah. Good job.” He smiles, you love that smile. You sometimes wish Sodo was a less orthodox ghoul and would remove his helmet once and a while. You respect him for it, but to see his smile reach his eyes would be such a sight. “Nice t-shirt by the way. I like it.”

You already changed out of your ministry clothes and into pajama pants and the first shirt you could grab in your dresser.

“Oh, thanks. Uhm.” You realized what shirt you put on, it was a t-shirt one of the other sisters made for you as a joke. It was black with a picture of Sodo playing his bloody guitar surrounded by pink hearts and bright yellow stars. “Uhm… you ready to go Sodo?”

“Yeah, let’s go, sunshine.” And with that, he smiles wider and grabs your waist to pick you up.

“Sodo, no-! Not again!” He throws you over his shoulder, laughing, and begins to walk down the hallway to his chamber.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The tradition was held up for the past 3 years of you joining the ministry. After befriending Sodo, something happened where you just bonded over your love for horror movies- you found them scary, he found you being scared funny.

Through those three years, you and Sodo grew apart with him on the tours and you working under Sister Imperator but you and him always made sure to hold this one tradition. Every Hallow’s Eve you and him would do anything to sit together in Sodo’s chambers to watch and rewatch whatever horror movies you wanted. You less enjoyed the movie part of the tradition and more laying next to Sodo as he kept one hand on your head and the other in your popcorn as he laughed at the movie.

“Sodo! Put me-!” You were halfway back to his chamber and he still refused to put you down.

“Shh, sh, shh, if you keep yelling like that Sister is going to catch us and we don’t want that, do we?”

After a sigh, you gave up, “For the sake of tradition I guess not.”

“There you go. Look, we’re almost there anyway.” His one arm holding your legs squeezed tighter as he picked up his speed, jogging down the hallways.

You kept quiet as he opened his door and walked him. Sodo tossed you on his unmade bed and you landed with an ‘oof.’ As he shut the door and pulled off his boots, you sat up and looked around at the small room that you only saw once a year. It remained the same, everything was black and grey, a statue of Baphomet sat on the windowsill, a cone of incense burning next to it. The guitar stand stood empty in the corner of his small room. You look down and there the white guitar was, next to you on the bed. Clothes hung on his closet door knob and on the back of a desk chair. His desk was covered in stacks of books he means to read and sheets of paper holding new lyric ideas. You kick off your shoes and place them to the side of his bed. Sitting up again, you search for the TV remote on his bedside table.

“You find something to watch, okay?” Sodo was standing facing a wall, his back to you and began to unbutton his vest, looking around for something more comfortable to wear. “Just give me a sec.”

“Yeah, okay.” Something about the atmosphere felt more awkward as he pulled his vest and shirt off and began to undo his belt. You opted to look at him instead of the TV until he started to unzip his pants and pull them off. Frantically, you started to scroll through any new releases of movies just to keep your eyes off him.

Sodo sat on the bed next to you, wearing nothing but boxers and his helmet. He was holding a shirt between his teeth, and pulling on a pair of black sweatpants. “Find anything good?” He spoke through the shirt.

“Uh yeah I think maybe we could rewatch this one?” You just clicked on the next title to appear which happened to be Silence of the Lambs. He reached behind you to pick up his guitar and put it in its stand.

He began to pull his t-shirt over his helmet, guiding it over his horns. “Sounds good, sunshine.” As soon as his shirt was on, he grabbed the remote from you and settled against the headboard with a pillow behind his back. Your eyes are on him as he presses play, crosses his legs, and puts a hand on your head without even looking at you.

“You ready to get spooked?”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Halfway through the movie, you scoot closer to Sodo who has not moved the whole time. You lean your head on his shoulder, eyes fixed on the TV but no longer paying attention to the movie.

“Did you get scared, sunshine?” Sodo’s hand on your head moves down to your shoulder and squeezes. “I thought you liked this one.”

“No, I’m okay, I just-”

“Oh I get it. You’re worried Hannibal’s gonna find you and turn you into a 3 course meal.” He begins to trace circles on your shoulder with his thumb.

“Not that, Sodo. Hannibal isn’t that bad in this movie anyways.”

Sodo hums in response and looks down at you through those big, black lenses. “Is it Buffalo Bill then? Worried about ending up in his well and getting taken apart and made into clothes?” He smiles, sharp fangs on display.

You’re more scared around Sodo right now and no movie could scare you like this. “I’m fine.” You go to sit up straight again but before you can, Sodo leans his head on yours.

“If you say so, sunshine.”

You stay like that in silence until the movie ends and Sodo has to sit up and reach for the remote.

“What do you want to watch next?” He looks to you but you get off the bed quickly and move to the door.

“You can pick, I’m going to go grab snacks from the kitchen.”

“Okay, sunshine. Grab me some twizzlers, will you?”

“Yeah, Sodo, you got it.” Only when you’re halfway to the kitchen do you realize you forgot to put your shoes back on.

You fill your arms and pockets with bags of popcorn and candy, ready to walk back to Sodo’s chambers to see what movie he picked. For a moment you freeze and think. You haven’t seen Sodo for almost a year because of the tours and now you have him back but something is different. You know it isn’t much but he usually isn’t that touchy. You shrug it off and start to walk back to his chambers.

On the way, you run into a wandering Copia.

“Papa Emeritus!” You bow quickly.

“No, no need for that, Sorella. Ah- where are your shoes, my dear?”

“Sorry, Papa, I forgot them in my room, I was just making a quick run to the kitchen.”

“And all of that is for you?” He points to your pockets overflowing with twizzlers and starburst candy, and then to the three bags of popcorn you’re holding.

“Well, I-” You try to think of an explanation quickly.

“Are the sister’s chambers in this wing? I thought only the ghouls resided here.” Copia begins to smile.

“I must have gotten lost…?”

“Mm. You don’t have to explain to me, sister. Maybe just have an excuse ready if you see Imperator in the halls.” He begins to walk again, “Enjoy your movie night, cara, he has been waiting for this for quite some time.”

You stand dumbfounded for a moment as Papa walks away, his chuckle echoing in the hall.

After making it back to Sodo’s chambers, you open the door to see him sitting on the side of the bed.

“Good you’re back. What took so long?” Sodo reaches into your pocket to pull out a pack of twizzlers.

“I ran into Papa in the halls.” You put most of the candy and popcorn on the bedside table for later, holding only a bag of popcorn as you sit next to Sodo on the bed.

You both speak at the same time.

“What did he say?”

“What are we watching?”

He remains quiet so you answer first, “Nothing important, why?”

He shrugs and then answers your question, “Scream.”

“Oh I love that one!” You open the bag of popcorn as he presses play and tosses the remote aside. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

Sodo puts one hand on top of your head and the other holds his twizzlers. “Yeah of course.”

You both laugh along with the movie, joking about how it makes fun of itself and how much you like ghostface.

“What can I say? I like guys in masks.” Out of the corner of your eye you see him smirk.

“Good to know.”

You yawn as the movie ends, resting your head on Sodo’s shoulder again. This time, he moves as little as possible when he reaches for the remote.

“Hey.” Sodo is quiet as he speaks. “Sunshine. You want to watch another one or have I tired you out already?” He slowly begins to play with your hair as you slowly blink, trying to keep your eyes open.

“Another one. I’m good. We can watch one more.” It’s not even the movies making you tired, it’s being around him, sitting in bed, the smell of the incense, his hand in your hair, his voice.

“Do you want to pick or should I?”

“Mm, you can pick.”

“Okay. How’s Halloween sound?”

“Sounds fantastic, Sodo.”

After hitting play on the movie, he puts the remote and twizzlers down and leans his head on top of yours again.

A little after the intro, you close your eyes, no longer interested in the movie. You just sit and feel his hand in your hair, the weight of his head on yours, and his chuckle anytime the characters did something unreasonable in the movie.

After a few minutes, you no longer heard the movie playing. Sodo must have noticed you were half asleep. He picked you up to lay you down more comfortably on his bed, even putting a pillow under your head. You felt the mattress shift next to you, making you think he laid down next to you.

“Sodo…” You mumbled quietly, not even bothering to open your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m right here. I’m right next to you.” His voice was just below a whisper, not risking waking you up.

“Okay.” You rolled over on your side, facing him and slowly opened your eyes. There he was, maskless, looking right at you. “Sodo?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled as you froze in place, not able to say anything.

Finally you manage to get some words out. “I can go back to my room tonight.”

“And what kind of ghoul would that make me? Leaving you defenseless and alone on All Hallow’s Eve.” He moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You wanted to make a joke but instead you answered his question from earlier, “Papa said you were waiting for tonight. For the movies.”

“I mean, I was excited for tonight.” He inhaled sharply and pulled you a little closer. “But not for the movies.”

“You talk about me when you’re out on tour?” He smiled. You were right, his eyes lit up when he smiled. It was perfect.

“I’m going to be honest with you, sweetheart.” That was a new nickname. Not that you minded. “I think the other ghouls are sick of hearing about you.”

“Why’d you take your helmet off?” You know the answer, you’ve read the laws. Ghouls only take their helmets off around two people, their antipope, and anyone that they trust completely, people that they bond with on a level no one else can reach. Most ghouls don’t follow those laws but some, like Sodo, do.

“Are you behind on your studies, sunshine? I thought you already knew that answer.” His hand on your waist moved up your back, stopping when he reached your neck.

You had nothing to say to that. He was right, you knew the answer.

“And,” Sodo looked into your eyes. “It makes it easier to do this,” He used his hand on your neck to pull you into a kiss.

You smiled on his lips as he kissed you, this was everything you wanted and it was perfect. Sodo rolled you over to kneel above him, making you gasp. He used that gasp to slip his tongue into your mouth, he tasted like Twizzlers and iron. Sodo’s other hand moved to your waist to pull you closer to him.

Gently, he pushed his nails into your skin, and you bit his lip in response. He grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, just enough to lift your face off him. You both looked at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, until Sodo put his lips on your jaw and began to make his way down your neck and to the collar of your t-shirt. As he pulled the collar down to kiss your collarbones, you rested your forehead on a pillow.

You began to pant as Sodo left marks across your upper chest. “Sodo, can you-?” Both your hands were on his waist, sliding up his chest under his shirt.

“Yeah, sweetheart, yeah.” Keeping both his hands on your hips, Sodo sat up straight, keeping you on his lap. He grasped the bottom of his shirt and pulled it above his head, tossing it to the floor. Without wasting a second, he pressed his lips against yours again and held your head in his hands.

“Sunshine- Sweetheart, I’m gonna tell you what I’m about to do to you okay?” He took both your wrists firmly in his hands and pushed you until your back was on the mattress and he was above you, pinning your wrists down to the bed. “And you’re gonna listen to me without saying a single word.”

Your face turned red as he smiled a smile that you had never seen before from him. “I can do that,” You pant out.

“That is exactly what I wanted to hear.” He growls, making you squirm underneath him. You wish you could reach out to grab him and pull him closer but he still has you in his hold. “Now, first I’m going to undress you. I’m going to take off your shirt, and kiss my way down your chest and stomach.” You close your eyes for a moment taking everything in. “I’m going to let go of your wrists and take your pants off. And then I’m going to let you lie there. I’m going to look at every inch of you because Satan knows I have been waiting years to see you like this. Oh my little demon, what’s wrong? Open your eyes. Look at me.” You do, slowly. Sodo lowers his head until your foreheads touch.

“Am I too much? Already?” You open your mouth to respond to him. “No, sweetheart, I didn’t say you could speak yet. I said not a word, remember?” You nod. “Good. Good.” He pauses for a moment. “Are you ready for more?” You nod again and he smiles. “Good.” He sits up and removes his hands from your wrists, moving them to take off your shirt. “After I get a good look at you, I’m going to take my time with you. I will cover you in marks so every single person in the ministry knows who you belong to.” He pulls your shirt above your head slowly, revealing your bare chest, rising and sinking with each deep breath you take. He leans over and presses a kiss to your waist, right above where the waistband of your pants sit. Sodo continues to speak after throwing the shirt off the bed. “Once I have you completely bare and gasping for breath, I’m going to take you in my mouth, Lucifer, I want to taste you.” He moves up you, pressing a kiss to your stomach, and then right below your chest. “Then I’m going to give you my fingers.” Sodo moves up again and while keeping eye contact with you, he presses another kiss between your breasts. “I know you’ve thought about it, I know what you think of when you look at me playing my guitar for you.” He kisses between your collarbones, then your neck, then your chin, then the tip of your nose. Finally, his head is about yours, just inches away. He looks deep into your eyes and you find yourself unable to move. “Would you like that?”

He begins to move off you, making room for him to take the waistband of your pants with one hand and your knees with the other. Sodo lifts your knees and pulls the waistband of your pants down your legs. You watch him with wide eyes as he carefully works. He kneels on top of you again, both his knees on either side of your hips. You nod slowly as he runs his hands up your hips, over your stomach, over your chest, and holds your head. “And maybe, maybe if you’re good, maybe if you beg, maybe I’ll give you my cock.” He smiles again and whispers so quietly that you can barely hear. “You can speak now, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth and gasp, not realizing you’ve held your breath. “I’d like that.”

“I’m glad to hear it, sunshine.” His hands slide down you again, holding down your waist. Sodo presses a kiss to your lips, pressing his tongue into your mouth. He made you feel dizzy anytime he kissed you, and you couldn't get enough of it. Sodo lifted his lips off yours and spoke again. “Now let’s begin.”

He sat back on his ankles and looked at you as you lay there, already out of breath. You watched him as began to kiss your stomach, sucking and biting to leave marks behind, just as he promised.

He was meticulous as he moved up you, holding your breasts with rough hands, kissing your chest, and leaving a trail of hickeys behind.

The only sound in the room was your breath. You both were silent as Sodo tried his best to please you, and then you, full of awe and pleasure as Sodo bit and kissed your neck.

Sodo moved his knee between your legs, pressing it against your core.

He lifted himself off you to look at what he created; you, covered in hickeys, gasping for breath and wanting more. He smiled to himself and spoke, “Did you enjoy yourself, my little demon?” He moved one hand to caress the side of your face, looking deep into your eyes. “Are you ready for what comes next?”

“Yes. Please.”

Carefully, Sodo moved, pulling your underpants down your legs and tossing them aside with your other clothes. You watched as he moved methodically, spreading your legs and kneeling between them. He began to kiss your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your core.

“Sodo-”

He gently bit your thigh before responding, “Patience, sunshine.” Sodo moved closer, you could feel his breath on your lips as he carefully moved both your legs over his shoulders. Both his hands held a firm grip on your hips, holding you down as he began to lick your outer lips.

Your breath became shaky as he pressed his tongue against your clit, slowly licking and sucking it.

Sodo hummed against you while you squirmed, pressing your hips into the mattress.

“Sodo, I’m close, I-” Without saying a word in response, Sodo removed one of his hands from your hips, pressed a finger inside of you, and hooked it. His mouth on your clit and now his finger was enough to make you cum. Sodo kept his finger inside of you, moving it in and out, as he sat up on his ankles looking over you.

He sat there, watching your reactions as he took his other hand and lightly brushed his nails on your outer lips. He watched you twitch as his touches became heavier. His fingers moved to your clit to tease you as he leaned down to kiss your neck.

You took his head in your hands to kiss him as he pressed another finger into you. As you moaned, he smiled against your lips.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Sodo whispered in your ear as he worked your clit. “Nice and loud for me.”

His fingers moved in and out of you, leaving you moaning and gasping for breath. “Please, Sodo.”

“Please, what? Say it. Ask me, sweetheart, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I want you inside me.” He chuckled against your lips, pressing another quick kiss to you.

“I am inside you.” He hooked his fingers for effect, making you gasp. “That’s okay, sweetheart. I won’t make you say it.” He took his fingers from inside you and began to pull his pants off, still working your clit. “We wouldn’t want you to feel ashamed, would we?” He tossed his pants and boxers to the side as you looked up, first at his eyes, then his cock. He took it in his free hand, playing with his tip, coating it in your wetness from his fingers. “I can’t have my pious little demon feel tainted.” Sodo took his hand from your clit and moved it to caress your face as he began to rub his cock on you. “Don’t feel nervous, sunshine.” He pressed a kiss against your lips as he started to push into you.

“Sodo-,” you moaned. He pushed himself all into you, just staying still. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he propped himself up with his other arm above your shoulder. With his hand caressing your face, he began to trace circles with his thumb on your cheek.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “How do you feel?”

“You can move, Sodo.” You inhaled sharply. “I’m okay.”

He pressed his forehead against your shoulder as he began to move, slowly at first, picking up a rhythm. You move your hips with him, matching his movements.

He begins to speak, his voice is strained as his breath falters. “Sunshine, sweetheart, my little demon, my Lilith, you are beautiful. And you are mine.”

You nod, quietly whispering a, “Yes.” between breaths and moans.

“Say it to me.” He picks up his head, looking you in the eyes.

You manage to speak. “I am yours.”

“Promise it.” It’s almost like he thinks you’re going to answer no.

“I promise, I’m yours, Sodo.” One of your hands goes into his hair and holds tight.

“Swear it.” His hips pick up the pace as he thrusts into you, and he groans. You love the sounds he makes as he pants and groans.

“I swear on my soul, on this church, I swear on Satan himself- fuck!” Your fingernails dig into his back and you pull his hair tighter. “I swear! I swear, I’m yours!”

He kisses you deeply in response and against his lips you say, “I’m close, Sodo. Please-” He cuts you off with another kiss.

“Then cum, sunshine.” And you did. As you tightened around him, Sodo’s pace faltered as he moaned in your ear and you felt him cum inside you.

Sodo slowed his pace as you came down, kissing your neck, and whispering praises into your ear. Carefully, he pulled himself out of you and reached over to pull his t-shirt off the ground, using it to wipe his cum off of you.

“Sodo?” He tossed the t-shirt to the side and handed you your shirt and his boxers. You put them on not knowing why he didn’t give you your own, but just happy to wear something of his.

“Yes, my little sunshine, what is it?” He laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. Your head was under his chin and your legs were tangled in his.

“I’ll always be yours.”

“Is that so?” His fingers began to trace patterns on your back as you yawned and held him closer.

“Yeah. You’re my ghoul.”

“And I am yours, sweetheart. Forever I am yours.”

#sodo ghoul #sodo ghoul x reader #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghoul x reader #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader

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drifloonz · 1 year

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General dating headcannons for Red or Steven plz🥺👉🏼👈🏼

MY FIRST ASK FINALLY ( ok there was one before this but i didn't see that I'LL GET TO YOU LATER SORRY ) hiii . i can do that 4 u. idk if u meant glitchy or Normal Red so i'll just tack them all in one big post. we love champions who are slightly deranged ( and also red. who's like. just normal. relatively. ) i can write so much for these 3 you will regret it. some of these became general headcanons but i hope this feeds you for at least a week.

because i wrote way too much. Like. Way too much. I apologize in advance theres so much

dating headcanons for red, steven, and glitchy red!

Red

♡ of course, he's mute - whether selectively or he just literally can't speak ( or almost literally never chooses to speak ). i prefer the ladder bc red speaking feels wrong. due to this, if you know sign, he can communicate that way - but he's also really good at just like.... gesturing. it may be harder to understand at first, but the more you get to know him the more you learn certain expressions or gestures. he also makes noises, grunts(?) of affirmation, hums, things like that. he really likes making those sorts of noises actually, especially if you're dating him. he's actually pretty expressive when he wants to be, so he's not that hard to understand.

♡ on a related note, he likes to hold you ( being the big spoon... he likes making you feel comfortable and protected ) and hum against you, making you sorta feel his chest vibrate a little bit.

♡ his form of affection is very much physical, he loves to hug you and to hold your hand. even if he's the champion ( or an ex-champion? it's unclear, nobody's really stated to dethrone him iirc, he just takes breaks, vacations, and does tournaments sometimes ) he won't care about giving you physical affection in public for the world to see. especially if it flusters you but you don't seriously have an issue with it, then he loves to give you just little kisses on the cheek. when your face is red ( pun semi-intended ) it makes you look cute, to him.

♡ if you have a pokemon team of your own or are in any way interested in battling he'll love to show you the ropes or help you get better at it. he won't fight you immediately if you're not that great, but he will tell you what pokemon he thinks you'd like ( probably just . showing you ones in his pokedex or googling them idk. ) . he just loves to teach and help people get better at things bc you know battling and catching mons is this dudes special interest all the way. he even probably knows and cares about IVs and EVs and natures, but doesn't teach you about those immediately since its more advanced stuff.

♡ also yea he's autistic. All of these 3 are actually. Massive win for the autism community.

♡ if we're making strangled red canon to this red's timeline the reason he's so interested in pokemon training and battling is bc he looked up to steven who Also loved that shit to death. steven at his prime was arguably even more competitive and good than red was. to be determined though since he fucked off, but he was probably an undefeated champion until the incident. This is more of a general red hc than a dating one and also more of a steven hc but it's semirelated. if not, he probably had a lifelong interest in this sort of stuff via watching the other champions in other regions on his tv, in the news, or something like that.

♡ sometimes if you explicitly agree to it ( bc he doesn't want to give you things you don't want or don't wanna be responsible for ) he'll randomly just... give you a pokemon he caught. he just gives you it and goes 'thought of you when i saw this.' in sign.

♡ his pokemon are also naturally protective of and like you too. give them pets and treats and they will be all over you. they might even be more affectionate with you than red sometimes. red doesn't take serious offense to it, he thinks its funny tbh.

♡ his idea of dates are either entirely regular things like going to a cafe or having a picnic or it's shit like hiking up mt. silver or flying on the back of his massive fucking charizard and just seeing where the wind takes you two. he's an adventurer at heart, and if you like that then you'll love him bc one month you'll be in kanto in his house and the next you'll be in fucking galar or something. never a dull moment, really.

♡ massive cuddler. as said before. big spoon, although he won't object to being the little spoon if you really wanna. will Not let go of you unless you really want him to as well. he snores a little in his sleep, but not to a disruptive degree. it's cute. alternatively, if you don't wanna cuddle him he'll probably have plushies or a pillow he holds in his sleep instead. me, my boyfriend, and his 500 poke four-foot tall pikachu plushie

♡ he's not too much of a fashion guy but he does find matching outfits cute. honestly, he'd buy you the same or a similar hat/vest as his just bc he thinks you'd look really cute in it.

♡ he's probably taller than you. not comically, but noticeably. likes to pat your head sometimes. he finds it funny if ur shorter than him like damn. How's the weather down there.

♡ gives so many kisses. doesn't give many on the lips, actually? especially in public. he Will but not as often. he really loves kisses on the cheek in particular, giving and receiving. the loverboy...

♡ overall A tier boyfriend. big teddy bear type of guy. amazing cuddles. 10/10.

Steven

♡ assuming this is far past all 3 of his stories ( post miki and mike death, post whatever the hell he did in doors open and strangled ) how the fuck did you even start dating him

♡ regardless of the way ( i like to think that you stumbled into his home out of curiosity and he just was sort of irritated but let you stay and then became attached ), i'm assuming this is past all of that, and therefore steven has become a little less fucking murderous. if you met him earlier while he was still in a very easy to anger state, he'd probably've killed you. he knows this and he's always going on horrible thought processes of 'oh god what if i hurt them too' and that sorta thing.

♡ 100% taller than you. he's like 6'5" or taller. perhaps even Inhumanely Tall due to like missingno or something. he's usually slouching all the time due to this and he has horrible scoliosis and back problems probably. but when he stands up to his full height. jesus christ. he will def tease you, usually wordlessly and with actions, by just like. leaning on you or putting his hand flat on yours to emphasize the height difference. he thinks its funny.

♡ steven, like glitchy, is actually really social despite how he looks and acts. or at least, craves being social - or socialized with. he used to be looked up to, he used to talk to people and often, and he used to be a champion. of course, he was still a man of few words back then as well, but not as few as he is now. due to this, he'll mostly give you straightforward answers or sentences, and slowly become a bit more talkative as the relationship progresses. still, he does prefer to just listen to you talk and nod along or hum in approval... your voice comforts him.

♡ you also have to be decently far in the relationship to coax him into doing this, but he may even go out with you. like. Like out into the world. he's been so scared of how everything's changed, and of course, he does go out sometimes but he tries to avoid society as hard as he can. Do not ask steven how the fuck he got into bell tower he probably just snuck in there one night after flying to johto w miki or some shit. i like to think he himself either requested all of his info be just sort of swept under the rug after he lost miki due to feeling like he didn't deserve to be a champion without her, or the kanto league intentionally tried to make everyone forget about him after his dissapearance - since it's been so long, this has been relatively successful. only red, blue, daisy, and oak would probably know him nowadays along with some older pallet town and kanto residents probably. therefore if you wanna take him out into the world maybe avoid pallet town since it's oughta be cause for a lot of concern to the townspeople, and he really doesn't want to worry them all.

♡ despite this he does worry about the remaining residents. he never got to see red or blue go on their own journeys since he became a hermit before that happened, so he's worried about their safety. if you tell him they're fine he'll be so fucking relieved. Alternatively, they're not ( snow on mt silver and or blue tears, among other pokepastas that could've happened ) but you know. don't tell them if they aren't fine, he doesn't want to know. either way, he also feels extremely awkward about the whole daisy thing as he never officially broke up with her, he just sort of left. but obviously, he's in a relationship with you now - he just can't help but worry about her as well sometimes.. mostly just hoping that she's had a better life than he has.

♡ his voice is gruff and rough and a little scratchy from not using it that much. this won't change too much but if you're into that then well. good news for you ig. please give this man tea with a lot of honey he needs it. and he also probably likes tea more than coffee anyways for various reasons.

♡ he sometimes has nightmares about The Incident ( both miki's death, which is scarred into his brain, and murdering mike. possibly also him killing two unrelated people who were probably kids in doors open and strangled as well, but much less than his nightmares about murdering mike and miki dying. he has a lot lying on his conscious ). he'll wake up silently, probably sweating and trying not to wake you up, but if you do wake him up, just talk to him - take his mind off of it or relax him. he'll appreciate it. he'll happily do the same for you.

♡ hugs you really tightly. is not aware of his own strength or grip until you ask him to do it less. he hugs you like you'll die if you escape his arms, essentially. due to this he will also hug you a lot while cuddling, especially in bed. he doesn't want you to leave his embrace, and may even be a little tentative to let go if you ask him to.

♡ type of dude to wake up early morning, grumble something about "five more minutes," sleep in and then fall asleep with you again and then the two of you wake up at like 5 pm with major bedheads. he has a nonexistent schedule. he doesn't even sleep that often, usually opting to just stay up until he physically can't keep his eyes open. he sleeps... for very long periods of time.

♡ he likes to take walks and just roam. he did this a lot more before he killed mike but after miki died, just roaming and pacing endlessly across kanto since he had nothing else to do, and now he sort of doesn't do it out of fear of someone recognizing him.. but if you say you're gunna go on a walk he'll happily ask to join, just... expect him to not follow if you go into an area that's too public. it overwhelms him + fear of being recognized or perceived in general by people that aren't you.

♡ he has PTSD, depression, BPD, and probably more. be patient with him. he can sometimes moodswing or close himself off from you because he's scared he'll hurt you and may even intentionally push you away as a sort of mental self harm method. just give him time and be patient. he never wants to hurt you when he's like that, he's just scared.

♡ it's funny how we've gotten this far without mentioning miki that much. anyways! miki. steven still has her, still is very overprotective of her, and that does not change with you. of course he's mostly sure that miki can hold her own so he's more scared of how she might react to you, but she's perfectly fine about it. steven will often allow her to just wander on her own accord around the house, so you might have some Unintentional Miki Jumpscares, especially since she likes to follow you sometimes. going to the bathroom and then exiting? face first into colliding with miki's stomach. she's like a cat. she really likes you and is also very curious about you. steven will often allow you to take her with you if you go outside as a defensive method, even though you probably have your own pokemon. even if you don't want her to come with you she'll usually follow you outside like a dog who wants to go on a walk - or a fly - really badly. she'll also offer you random things she finds lying around like rocks or sticks. steven will often not be far behind either if you and miki are outside, since he's both very worried about you and miki to a pretty equal degree. he finds her attitude towards you very cute though, and is happy that she takes to you quite well.

♡ if you're affectionate with miki, steven will find it very cute. especially considering her whole... condition. which steven was worried about you seeing. but if you're fine with it then those worries calm down a lot. steven loves to talk about her as well - it's one of the few things you can ask him that actually will prompt him to say much more than a few sentences at a time. he will ramble about how wonderful and powerful she is and how him and her were undefeated champions of kanto... at least until the incident. miki and you are sort of the last things he has that can make him smile genuinely anymore and he loves both very much.

♡ he may talk to you, probably in one of his sort of unstable spiralling states, about the Incidents(tm) and how you should stay away from him and that he's a monster. he'll genuinely sort of break if you still show him affection after how much he tries to push you away in his unstable states. it does reassure him, but he's so confused as to why you're still even with him sometimes. all he can think of is... why would someone want a murderer like him?

♡ a lot of his skills wore down since he self-isolated for years and years. he does cook well though. just buy him groceries so not every dinner and lunch between you two is a microwave or oven meal and he'll cook for you. he's especially good at making dinners. type of dude to wear an apron with kiss the cook on it. his eating behaviors are very unhealthy ( he doesn't eat that much ) so doing this also sort of helps him get back into that. if you also have bad eating behaviors he'll try to help you out as well.

♡ fucking loves pokemon battling and being competitive, which has obviously taken a backseat since The Incident(s), but he'll be happy to help you with anything pokemon related, similarly to red. he's such a massive tryhard, or at least was, when he was still on his journey that he knows almost anything and everything about how to make your pokemon the strongest they can be - he was allegedly an undefeated champion after all. he'd happily battle with you, if uh, miki didn't have the high possibility of accidentally killing your own pokemon. and he released all of his Normal Pokemon. so. but he'll help you catch pokemon and will be happy with treating your pokemon like his own as well. he just hopes they'll all get along with miki...

♡ similarly, if you have any plans to do the gym challenge in kanto, he'll raise an eyebrow in intrigue and help you but will give you a warning of "It's been a couple years, so things might not be the same, but from what I remember..." and will straight up tell you all of their teams and everything he remembers abt each gym battle. those days were very memorable and happy for him so he remembers each triumphant victory him and miki had against each gym leader and elite four member happily.

♡ if you become the champion - of either kanto or a different region entirely, or were already - it would make things a little complicated, considering most people treating champions like celebrities and steven did Not want anybody to know you were dating him nor wanted the publicity, as it'd cause complications probably. but he'd be happy for you. it'd be very ironic though... a champion dating an ex champion... he is attracted to people who were strong though, and you were no doubt strong if you became a champion.

♡ reaaallly loves hugging you. especially backhugs. he likes surprising you with a backhug, since he's honestly pretty good at sneaking around. thinks you getting scared is a little funny, admittedly, but he'll stop if asked. like red, he also loves being the big spoon and humming so you can sort of feel a vibration from his chest. very comforting and good to go to sleep to.

♡ he sort of just... follows you around wherever you go, really. doesn't have much else to do.

♡ a fact that many people forget is that steven is canonically a gamer for better or for worse. he has so many stocked-up consoles and games and i like to think he collects them too. due to this he will happily play games with you or watch you play them happily. he will try to impress you w how well he plays certain games bc he's a bit of a nerd. he also knows glitches in a lot of games he owns #lol

♡ i like to think that pokemon cards exist in universe and he probably also just collects those. he has every charizard card to date. don't ask him how he got those, he'll just give you a Look and refuse to answer ( either paid way too much or stole them or something ).

♡ continuing the whole collecting thing he has all of his trophies and badges and adjacent stuff lined up somewhere near his bed. will happily brag to you about how he got each one in hopes to impress you, and also to reminisce on the better times. He also probably has a charizard plushie or two.

♡ if you wanna style his hair he'll allow you. feel absolutely free. he really doesn't do much with it other than lazily wash it nowadays anyways, so he doesn't mind. he likes the sensation of your hands in his hair as well... it's comforting. just try not to tug or yank his hair.

♡ he's a little overprotective and he will often try to keep you in his home. he's worried about losing you if you go outside, and he isn't too willing to follow considering his urban legend reputation within kanto. things like asking you to stay just a few more days, but he'll always say that when you mention needing to leave. if you're persistent enough, he'll let you go, but he's just worried... and very clingy. be sure to at least send him messages ( if he even has a phone ), if you intend to be gone for longer than a day.

♡ if you have a pokemon team, which, you probably do, he'll be happy to learn about and get along with each and any of them. as long as they get along with miki or are at least willing to, he's fine with them.

♡ overall very depressed man but he's also a big teddybear and loves you sooo much he just isn't good at expressing it. 10/10 ( <- clearly biased )

Glitchy Red

♡ glitchy, on the other hand from red, is Very fucking talkative. red and glitchy are like... the opposite of eachother which i find very funny. not entirely, of course they share similarities due to being generally the same person, but being trapped in a game so long made him desperate for any sort of touch, any sort of contact, any sort of socialization of ANY kind. which is why he's talkative - he may stumble over his own words or trip up on them since he's only used to speaking through textboxes, which embarrasses him. don't comment on it or he'll probably just not talk for the rest of the day.

♡ sometimes if you touch him you'll get that static shock . he'll apologize a lot if he ever does this because it's usually unintentional and just a thing that can Happen due to his whole... state. happens more often when he's upset, happens less when he isn't.

♡ his glitches seem to stutter to a sort of rhythm sometimes. if you're observant enough, these usually give away his current emotional state. he gets glitchier the more upset he is, obviously, and he gets more stable the more happy he is. so around you... he's usually pretty stable.

♡ really likes holding your hand. it assures to him that yes, you are real... and you are with him. any form of contact makes him happy, but holding his hand is just simple and nice and it grounds him.

♡ if this isn't in the pokemon universe, then i'd like to think you can play pokemon games around him and he'll just commentate on it and won't be too bitter as long as modern red doesn't show up. he probably unironically likes a lot of the pokemon he's never seen, but will just go like. "tch. whatever. pikachu's better." under his breath, since he never wants to admit he likes anything pokemon related past certain gens. he's that type of dude who'd get so unnaturally angry about dexit.

♡ he's also very judgemental about the way you play games, especially pokemon lol. he's a fucking backseat gamer oh my god. he's honestly not that actually genuine abt his comments hes just very used to bitching abt the way ppl play games due to Being in one for so long. he did it to annoy people and make them stop playing and it worked. if you get a little angry at him about this he'll notice and mumble an apology.

♡ like steven, he'll just follow you around and hang around you for most of the day. he legitimately doesn't have anything else to do, so.

♡ he doesn't need to sleep or eat, but he can still feel the sensations of taste and touch and he fucking loves finally having self-agency and the ability to feel these things. everything in his own world became extremely dull, even the pain after a point. plus he never ate food in there, so yk. due to this will eat a lot of food and will touch anything he can, intaking their textures.

♡ has autism, probably ptsd, misophonia ( especially with fucked up game noises they'll make him go into a state of pretty raw anger ), bpd, and prob more.

♡ loooves cats and cat pokemon and anything adjacent and im definitely not taking this headcanon from like several artists. really likes litten and skitty, particularly.

♡ if you let him, he loves to just touch you all over. just like. rub your cheeks. pat your head. run his hands through your hair. he's so unused to feeling any of this that he can get absolutely lost in feeling how ... real you are.

♡ he's the type of guy to chug cans of monster and then wonder why his bodys reacting poorly, glitching all over the fucking place as he has a sugarrush like response to it. he didn't even know that could Happen as a bodily response so he's just so panicky when he intakes too much sugar or caffeine until you explain that to him LMAO

♡ he'll take up like several hobbies and then drop most of them out of impatience and disinterest, but he'll try almost anything once. he does like idly cooking or cleaning since they're useful to the both of you.

♡ loves to go outside and explore. it's the red in him. if you allow him to he loves to just take your hand and walk around wherever you live. if you get tired, he'll carry you, since he doesn't really get tired - if he does, not as quickly as you do for certain. people may give him odd looks, but he could care less.

♡ his kisses feel like electricity but in the best way

♡ on a related note, kiss him all over. he'll get so flustered and he'll stutter out cute little embarrassed noises and then he'll just pull his cap over his face to hide his expression a little.

♡ ... admittedly, he's like the only guy on this list who prefers to be the little spoon, but he'll default to the big spoon just because he likes to make you happy. but the second you have your arms around his body he'll never want you to let go. he's insanely touchstarved. he's like a cat that constantly is rubbing against your leg for attention after this. please hug him throughout all times of day.

♡ despite being so talkative theres some days where he just doesn't feel like saying too much. mostly because he's tired, in any sense of the word, or overthinking or something. just be patient and loving with him.

♡ it's actually pretty easy to make him flustered or to make him smile. give him any form of compliment, praise, or touch, and his face will be red ( pun intended, again ) and he'll be smiling so large. it's really cute.

♡ his hair is sharp to the touch if he's unstable and stressed, but if he isn't it's very fluffy. run your hands through his hair and take his cap off and he'll fall asleep so quickly.

♡ speaking of, like red, since theyre... yk the same person for the most part, he also snores. it just has a sort of glitchy tone to it like his voice does. it is comforting though, and he snores a lot louder than regular red.

♡ wouldn't it be funny if he could enter your dreams while you sleep too like at the end of the og pokepasta. if you have a nightmare he just notices somehow and beats the nightmare to death and just cuddles you and helps you feel better. either that or he just gets so lonely that he just visits you in your dreams sometimes to talk to your consciousness. he probably has a lot of sleepless nights where he'll just enter your dreams to have something to do.

♡ overall, very easily embarrassed and flustered touchstarved boyfriend. he's a little moody but he's very cute. 10/10. i am never ranking one of these mfs under 10/10 because im biased.

#wispy writes #pokepasta #pokemon #strangled red x reader #glitchy red x reader #red x reader #steven x reader #steven strangled red #how the fuck do people tag these im going insane #THEY ALL HAVE RED AS A MAIN COLOR FOR THEIR NAMES .. pokemon champions when u ask them their favorite color #Partially bc yk red and Glitchy Red are the same person. But also stevens there.#ANYWAYS THANK YOU I HOPE THIS SUFFICES!!!

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