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serafilms · 2 days

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FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS

part 2 of the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader

summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”

“What, you wouldn’t help?”

“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.

She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.

“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”

“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”

“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”

The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.

Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.

The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?

But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.

Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.

There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”

His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.

It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.

You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”

Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”

You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”

Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.

But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”

Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.

“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.

“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.

Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”

Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.

When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.

“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.

He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”

“Stare.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”

You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.

“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”

You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.

There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.

“Sit. Please.”

He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.

“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”

You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’

There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.

“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”

Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”

“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”

The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.

The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”

Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.

“Can I?” Art whispers.

“Please,” you respond.

His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.

Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.

Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.

Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.

Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.

“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”

Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”

Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.

“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”

She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”

“So like, if I win?”

“You don’t have to win to play well.”

You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.

In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I was—”

Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.

“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.

“Hi.”

“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”

Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”

“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.

“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”

SIX WEEKS LATER.

God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.

“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.

“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”

Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.

“You should take this off.”

“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”

“You can wear his jacket instead.”

There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.

“You think he’ll offer?”

Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”

“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”

“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”

You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”

“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”

She’s right about that one.

Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”

“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”

She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.

You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.

Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.

(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.

“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)

So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.

But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.

When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.

Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.

One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.

Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.

The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.

“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.

“Hi,” you speak softly.

There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”

You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Shall we?”

You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”

“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.

He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”

“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.

“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you

You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”

“Physics. Or engineering.”

Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.

“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”

“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”

“You’d be right.”

Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”

Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.”

You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.

Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”

He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.

“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.

He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.

“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.

“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.

Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”

The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.

Your computer pings.

Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.

You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’

A minute later, there’s another notification.

Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #tashi duncan x reader #challengers imagines #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #mike faist #josh o'connor #zendaya #written works !

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luveline · 11 hours

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hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text.

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me?

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner?

What kind of dinner my love

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable

What’s wrong???

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.”

“What does that mean?”

“You don’t have to rush over.”

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.”

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?”

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.”

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?”

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?”

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.”

“You’re always good company, you loon.”

“You what?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.”

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.”

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?”

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Spencer!” you laugh.

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?”

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.”

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.”

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear.

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway.

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.”

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.”

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?”

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?”

“It’s in my back.”

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.”

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.”

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?”

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise.

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?”

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.”

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.”

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.”

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly.

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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gglitch1dd · 2 days

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I HAVE A SUPER ANGSTY IDEA

and thought...

You know Satomi and Toshinori really do love each other but what if they broke up? Now I don't think Toshinori would EVER break up with Satomi unless she cheated or something and Satomi would NEVER cheat....

HOWEVER,

I imagine that Toshinori and Kane go to America (Izuku pulled some strings with Melissa) either for third year or for a year after high school for interning and being sidekicks. But Satomi isn't training to be a Hero, she's in Hero Management (Like Reader) so she can't follow them.

And I can imagine her breaking up with him over it.

"Satomi," Standing in the doorway leading to her backyard was her boyfriend. Toshinori put his hands in his pockets as he took a step outside towards her. "Your step-mom told me to find you out here. You said you wanted to talk?"

Satomi stood with her hands on the railing, her back to her boyfriend of over a year. Her grip was tight as small hard cracks came to fingers showing her hardening quirk spilling through. She let out a stuttered breath, furrowing her dyed red eyebrows before forcing a smile to her face and turning around to look at him. "You... you and Kane are going to the US soon."

"Yah!" Toshinori's green eyes brightened, the same way they did when he was younger. Wide eyed, precious, sweet and charming. For the first time since Satomi knew the green haired boy, she wished she didn't love it as much as she did. "I can't believe Aunty Melissa would do that for us?! A whole year at one of the top ranking hero schools! I mean America seems like an absolute terrifying place but I mean, it's only for a year and we can learn so much from them!" He started to ramble off excitedly, a smile on his face. "And-" He paused as he looked down at his girlfriend. He instantly noticed the type of smile on her face. "What's wrong?" He asked stepping closer to her, and taking a hold of her soft hand.

She swallowed down hard but kept her smile on her face. Toshinori loved her smile. "You guys will be gone for a long time and... well you might decide to extend your stay and intern there."

Toshinori looked to the side with a scoff. "I doubt that. VISA's are such a hassle to get and I don't think I want to sidekick there. I want to focus on Japan."

"But it's possible." Toshinori paused as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to where this was going. "I just think..." She started out softly. "That we should go on a break."

Toshinori froze. Nothing went through his head for a second. "A... a break? Like you... you want to break up?"

"Just till you get back." Satomi stressed.

Toshinori didn't get it. His eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, closing his green eyes as he scratched the back of his head trying to wrap his head around this. "I... I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?" He asked. "Did I hurt you? If so you have to tell me."

She quickly shook her head. "No, of course not! I just... I don't want to hold you back."

"Hold me back? Hold me back from what?" He asked. "I don't understand. Why can't we date while we're away?"

"Toshinori, I'll be 13 hours ahead of you!"

"I'll call even if it's 3am for me."

"You'll be over 10 thousand kilometers away!"

"That's why phones exist!"

"Toshinori, you'll be surrounded by so many amazing girls there, and presented with so many amazing opportunities." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes with a forced smile. "I don't want to tear you away from that. You deserve to have it all and not think about me in the process of your decisions."

Toshinori's face scrunched up as he took in her words. "Satomi, I don't care about other girls. I don't want other girls. I want you. I love you." He moved to hold onto her shoulders. "And of course I would think about you, you're the girl I choose."

"Toshi-"

"Satomi, we can do this. It's just for a year, and I'll be back for senior dance and holidays! It'll be perfect." He let out with an anxious smile, ready to commit to anything.

"I-"

"I'll put in the effort and if I don't, Kane will make sure I do."

"To-"

"You'll see. It won't even be like we're far apart."

"TOSHINORI!" She shouted, snapping him out of it. "I just want a break! I don't think I can do this with you so far away!"

"So... you're not even willing to try?"

Satomi didn't answer that question.

And that's when Toshinori knew that this was the end. Satomi watched it on his face. The terrifying moment where the love and urgency in her boyfriend's eyes faded and there was nothing. Nothing. Not a single emotion.

Satomi drew in a breath as she stepped forward. Panic starting to develop within her. "No, Toshinori, no, no, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Do that!" She let out with tears in her eyes as she tried her best not to start crying. "I know you Midoriyas do that. You just shut down all your emotions. Talk to me!"

Toshinori stepped back out of her grasp, his face not showing an emotion at all. Monotonous and expressionless. "There's nothing to talk about. You want a break? Here it is. I'm giving it to you."

"Toshi-"

"But don't expect me to ever unpause this break."

Satomi felt tears in her eyes as she tried to fight back the tears. She drew in a breath. "Toshi, I love you. I do, you have to know that. I'm doing this for you. I want the best for you!" She tried begging for him to see that.

Toshinori just looked at her. He didn't say 'I love you' back. He didn't aknowledge what she was trying to say.

Nothing.

"Sure."

"Toshinori we can still be friends."

He shook his head as he sniffed. "Nah, I don't think so." He turned around to leave, stepping to her backdoor, deciding to leave. "See you at the farewell party, Kirishima." He didn't look back when he left. He didn't even aknowledge that he was talking to her.

Toshinori wasn't exactly sure how he got home, nor even if he thought at all. Nothing went through his head as his naturally and systematically moved and stepped to the direction of his house.

Even though it was sunset and the sun was setting, Toshinori didn't care. Since most heroes, retired or currently serving, lived in ProHero neighbourhood estates, he wasn't in any danger. His home was just a few streets away. However, even with the usual thirty minute walk that it takes over to his home.

He didn't remember a second of it.

"Toshinori." He looked up at his father as he leaned back in his recliner, looking away from the news playing on the TV. He smiled. "You're back early."

You were sitting on Izuku's lap, a ball of yarn and crocheting needles in your lap. You looked up to your eldest son. Instantly you noticed something was wrong. His face wasn't glowing as it normally did when he came back home from the Kirishimas. His face didn't have lipstick kisses on his cheeks, or a stupid smile on his face or anything.

He had the exact same face that his father would have on whenever something hurt him too much to express himself.

"Toshi?" You asked softly.

Kane turned around from where he was sitting on the couch to look back at his best friend. His eyebrows furrowed together. "Dude, what happened to your hair?"

A streak of white was in the mess of green curls. You hadn't seen his hair turn white since he first discovered One for All. A little genetic surprise that scared Izuku to hell and back when he realised his kids still inherited a bit of All for One's genes in them too.

Asahi turned to look at his brother. His eyes widened as he took off his glasses to make sure he was seeing normally. Hero leaned forward before smiling. "Nice streak Toshi!" He supported.

"It's not a good thing, idiot." Asahi shoved Hero lightly.

Shoyo tilted his head as he looked at his eldest brother. "Toshi, are you okay?"

Izuku looked at you worried. You put down your needles in your bag and got up towards your son. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Toshinori's expression didn't change, he shrugged. "Satomi broke up with me."

At that, the entire room went dead silent as the mood plummeted. Your eyebrows furrowed. "Broke up with you?? Are you sure? What made her do that?"

Toshinori shrugged again. "Long distance doesn't work for her. She's not willing to do that."

Izuku stood up from his chair as he moved to where you were, he motioned with a hand for the rest of the boys to stay where they are and leave you both with your eldest son alone. He motioned for you and him to follow. You put a hand to the back of Toshinori as you guided him outside to the patio.

Izuku closed the door once you were all outside, as you stood next to Toshinori. His eyes were dazed as he stared forward, not having any particular emotion. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine." Izuku told him as his eyebrows furrowed as he walked to stand in front of his son. He looked genuinely worried for his eldest as you stood next to Toshinori. "Toshinori, you love that girl and she loves you. So what happened? Did anything happen to prompt this from her or..."

Toshinori shrugged.

"Toshinori... my little sprout..." You moved to put a hand to the side of his face, your eyes baring into his own. "I know you love her."

Nothing happened initially as he slowly looked down at you.

Suddenly you saw his face twist into pain, pure agony going through him as he closed his eyes. He covered his mouth trying to fight that pain inside him. He gasped as his body shook in sobs.

"Oh baby," You quickly wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your arms. Izuku came up behind you, pulling the both of you into his large arms. It reminded you so much of the time where Toshinori was but a newborn and he would cry, and the few ways to comfort him was just like this. Although now he was taller than you, you couldn't help but see him now like that.

"I love her so much!" He cried into your shoulder.

You nodded your head. "I know, baby, I know."

"How could she do this to me?" He asked brokenly, not wanting to show his face to the both of you as he buried it in the crook of your neck. He hiccuped. "What did i do wrong!? I did everything right! I treated her how dad treats you!"

You closed your eyes as you tried your best not to shed tears yourself at his own heartbreak. Izuku put a hand to the back of Toshinori's head. "You didn't do anything wrong, Toshi, and this shouldn't affect how you treat woman. It was her choice. And I know it hurts right now, but you'll be grateful for it later."

Toshinori shook his head as he clutched onto you painfully, barely finding air to breathe as his heart shattered into a million pieces.

-Glitch1d

#dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #dilf midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #Midoriya Family Shenanigans #Poor Toshi :(

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 3 days

Note

need to know how the ghoul would feel about seeing his lil vaultie reader put on a pair of heels she found🤭 something tells me cooper had a thing for em and forgot all about them til now

See, one of the things I love most about having my ask box open is finding out over and over that y'all really do think just like me. I couldn't agree more: this man absolutely had and has a serious high heel and leg thing.

When you first discover the trunk of old clothes, he would be annoyed at you wanting to waste time playing dress-up, but coming across well-preserved pieces of old world clothing is such a rarity, and this stuff is even in your size! He would get a kick out of watching you try on different pieces of clothing, but when he sees you pull on a pair of pumps, he's hyperfixated in a way that doesn't even really register with him consciously.

Then, when you've had your fill and you're ready to put your clothes and armor back on, he waits for you to strip out of the clothes and then tells you to put the shoes back on, a glint in his eye you recognize well. Big into heels combined with nudity; it drives him nearly feral, pinning you to the floor to run his hands and mouth over every inch of your legs and ass. Feeling his tongue trace over every curve of your shin and calf is ticklish and makes you squeal and giggle, but soon you're begging for him to fuck you.

And boy, get ready to be fucked six ways to Sunday with those heels on. You express concern that you'll scratch or hurt him with the sharp bits and he feverishly tells you to shut up about it, already lifting your legs onto his shoulders. The entire time, he's groping at your legs and ass, feeling down as close to the heels as he can. When everything is said and done, the shoes, at the very least, are coming with you.

And, IN MY EXPERIENCE, men who are really, really into high heels are usually more than a little into feet (you are not allowed to hate me for saying this). The High Heel Incident would really unlock something in him about that, something that he may have been too embarrassed to admit to, or even think much about, before the war. He might find it less odd that he finds your smooth little feet so intriguing now that he is the way he is; I mean, you're so soft everywhere, so different from him. Fixating a bit on that specific part doesn't mean anything, right?

Look forward to him stealing way more little glances at your bare feet in the rare moments you'd feel comfortable enough to take your boots/shoes off, and definitely look forward to him eventually offering to massage them when you complain that they hurt from all the walking. It is not a selfless offer by any means.

Also...I'm just saying...if you wanted to rub your feet on his cock at any time...he wouldn't be mad...

#cooper howard sucks toes pass it on #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard headcanons #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission #this is why the heels stayed on in working girl

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muniimyg · 22 hours

Text

one: fuck it if i can't have us

series m.list // next

taglist request: unavailable ,, do not request !

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

It began with a sundress.

Don't get it twisted just yet because the beginning of Yoongi's downbad era didn't begin with you wearing one... It began exactly 20 minutes after meeting you.

What a joke, right?

His friend, Seok Jin, had invited a group of people to his family's summer home. The summer home is near a lake and a small town. The shops often closed just before 7PM and that's when Yoongi saw you for the first time. As the group of girls ran to greet Seok Jin and them, you lingered a moment longer, staring at the sundress on display.

Your long hair blew in the wind like a movie. Your smile was gentle and the way it turned into a laugh took his breath away. As you take one more glance at the sundress, you make your way to join the group.

As everyone mingles and continues to roam around the town, you take your time introducing yourself to everyone.

That's the first thing Yoongi liked about you.

You took your time.

Your eyes looked into his a moment more than his heart was ready for. When your hands touched, he felt electricity. His eyes widened and if he wasn't so self-aware about his delusional mindset, he swears he heard bells.

The bells.

But then again, maybe that was just your voice saying his name. That's the second thing Yoongi liked about you. He likes the way you say his name. It made him feel something. It made him feel like someone.

Perhaps thats why Yoongi woke up at 7AM the next day and bought you the sundress. He knocked on your room door and left it in the bag. Half awake, you picked up the gift and laughed.

There was no note written or exchange of words during breakfast. Instead, there was you wearing the sundress and Yoongi's stolen glances.

Then again...

Maybe it was the summer air. Maybe it was the way the sun always set so perfectly behind you. Maybe... It's just summer.

Summer exists for the hopeless romantics. For the people that love with their entire hearts and feel the warmth of the sun beyond their skin. Perhaps it's the sunshine and all the couple-coded activities or the shared ice cream cones... Maybe it's the carnivals and outdoor movies... Who knows.

Whatever it is, summer's lovebug has bit and made Yoongi sick to his stomach.

It has to be today.

Your lips meet his before a simple “hello.”

It irks him.

His mind goes hazy, fighting to understand why he loves the way you kiss him so much but hates it at the same time. Was this it? Was this all he was to you? How could you kiss him like you missed him and not say anything? Did you not mean this?

Did you not mean the way your lips crashed onto his with the kind of neediness he’s grown to crave?

Did you not mean the way you slipped your tongue in, finding his, and somehow redefining kissing for him? It’s just so perfect with you. You kiss him so good. You kiss him just right.

Worst of all…

Did you not mean it when you intertwined your fingers with his? How you hold his hand when you two kiss.. How you hold his hand when you ride his cock, grinding, moaning, and crying over how well he fits inside you?

Oh.

You must mean it.

Because if you don’t… He just might die.

Nothing devastates him more than the mere idea of you not wanting him back the same way he wants you. He craves for you in ways he can't even express with words.

You've bewitched him.

As you kiss him deeper, Yoongi breaks away from you like he's breaking away from a trance. He turns his head, backed up against the bathroom sink.

Real classy, by the way. Texting him to meet you in the bathroom while your friends are all wasted downstairs. But then again, why'd he even go upstairs and follow through? He was no better than you.

While you grow confused, an ache plunges into his heart. He hates doing this to you. He hates to be the reason why you could ever be confused with his actions because all he wants is clarity between you two. He wants it out in the open. He wants it to be crystal clear.

He wants you.

Yoongi catches the way your lips twitch. The way you gulp and inch away because you feel embarrassed. It hits you. The feeling of rejection... And he knows you well enough to notice how easily your feelings consume you. A part of him wonders if you know this about yourself... Do you know how much he wants to save you from yourself? How much he wants to give you constant reassurance and undying love? How much he wants to protect you and be your everything?

He wants it so bad it's beginning to ruin him.

To Yoongi, you're perfect.

With that being said, he still acknowledges your flaws... Like the fact that you smell like a mix of sunscreen and vodka (which he hates) or that you are the most stubborn person he has ever met in his life. That's saying a lot considering his best friends are horny overgrown fuckboys in fiance.

Yet, you take the crown.

You win the title.

You are the only person in this world who can break his heart.

… And contrary to popular belief, Min Yoongi's heart breaks easily.

You must know it.

It's strange to Yoongi how quickly you switch up. How he knows any slight rejection from his end hurts your feelings instantly... But you react tough and cold to endure the agony that rots inside you.

So, he hates this. He fucking hates this.

God, do you even know what he would do to swallow his pride and just be what you need? What he would do to give up his self-respect and live to please you? What he would do to simply be yours?

It takes everything inside him to stand his ground.

Shyly, you place your hand on his chest. You feel his heart beating. It beats fast and loud like it's trying to tell you something. Feeling worried, you look up at Yoongi and ask, “Everything okay?”

Yoongi places his hands on top of yours. Your eyebrows knit together from his touch. Like instinct, you try to pull away. Instead, Yoongi keeps your hand still. He holds them, rubbing his thumb back and forth against your soft skin. It’s comforting… But it scares you, to say the least.

“___, I can’t…”

That’s all he manages to say. Yoongi looks at you and it’s over. He’s lost in your eyes as if it’s the first time he has ever seen anything so fucking beautiful.

You blink.

“Can’t what?” you chuckle, looking down at his crotch. You tilt your head, wondering if he's just talking about his erection. “Are you not hard? It’s okay, bebe. I can help with that—”

“I know you can,” he huffs, “It’s j-just… It’s not that.”

Yoongi inhales sharply, eyes softening as he exhales. He looks at you... He really looks at you.

You gulp.

“What is it then?" you ask, trying your best to keep your tone consistent. "What? ... Are you ending this? I thought third times the charm? Hahahaa… I mean, i-it’s fine if you want out… I’m just confused why you want out. I don't want out—"

Feeling embarrassed, you pause. Your rambling won't change the way he is looking at you. He's looking at you so carefully. So lovingly.. It truly feels like an ending. Again, you attempt to drop your hands. Still, Yoongi holds them.

“Yoongi—”

He holds your hands tighter.

“D-don’t—”

He listens.

... And it’s odd.

For some reason, you didn’t really want him to let go.

“Is everything okay?” you attempt one last time. You ask this, completely unsure if knowing if for his sake or for yours.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Far from it, actually. Everything is everything but okay.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you hurt? Did I do something—”

“Everything,” Yoongi begins his confession. “It’s everything but you. It’s everything but us.”

Suddenly, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. That’s what this feels like… It’s this weird anticipation that you never saw coming. But it’s here and it’s quite literally taking your breath away.

“I’m confused—”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Yoongi confesses. His voice is gentle but stern. You hear every word crystal clear, yet you stand in complete disbelief.

“Actually, no… I am in love with you. I’ve known it for two summers now. I know it for the remaining nine months you ignore me. And I… I, uh… I d-don’t know w-what to do anymore. I’ve tried just about everything and everything…” he takes a second to pause, breathe in, and muster the courage to give you the rest of his heart.

“I'm out of ways of avoiding it. I've been trying to ignore this, and I just... I'm so tired, ___. I don't know what to do… I want every season with you.”

Your throat is dry.

Your hands tingle like they could go numb any second now.

God, there's a pressing feeling in the pit of your stomach and you aren't sure if it's because you're so nervous right now or if you just really have to pee.

Either way, you feel stuck.

You can't find any words to say and your mind runs through a million and one thoughts. From the very beginning, you always thought moments like these only existed in stories.

This couldn't be true...

This was a sick joke.

It has to be.

"Are you going through a heat stroke or something?"

He blinks at you. Realizing he's not kidding around, you put your guard up.

"W-why are you saying this?" you ask, practically choking on your words. "We're fine, Yoongi. You don't have to care about this more than we agreed to. You don't have to lie to—it’s summer! Come on! We have fun and—"

"___, I have never been so honest in my life!" he snaps, awfully offended. "You're not allowed to tell me how I feel. I just spent the past fucking nine months trying to figure my shit out—y-you... You can't tell me I figured it out wrong."

Unconvinced, you poke at his truth again. "Yoongi, seriously, are you fucking with me? This isn’t cool. You’re not funny.”

"Your birthday is my passcode. Do you think that’s cool? Am I funny for doing that?”

You snicker, “a little. Didn’t I do that? Why haven’t you changed it—"

“Take a wild fucking guess,” he hisses.

You tighten your lips. “I… I don’t—”

"I tried, ___. I tried so fucking hard for you. I swallow my pride every time you call me up. I pretend like it doesn't matter when you ignore me come September. I have done everything I possibly can to shove, suppress, and forget about my feelings... But I can't do it anymore. I don't want this anymore..."

In disbelief, you take a step back. "So what? You're done with me because you love me or some shit?"

"N-no! I'm saying I want more for us!" Yoongi hurries to explain himself. "I want us. I want everything, though. I want the morning texts. I want the dates. I want the anniversaries. ___, I want you twelve months a year—"

"And the sex?" you interrupt him, "what does this mean... For us then? For this arrangement?”

"Is that all you care about?"

A beat.

"No."

Yoongi takes a step toward you. "I can do it," he promises you. "I can fuck you all you want. I can eat your pussy out to your heart's desire. I can do and be anything and everything you want, bebe…”

"... So? What's with the confession? If nothing was going to be different—I'm still confused. Are you ending this or not?"

He laughs.

"No," Yoongi tilts his head and gives you half a smile. Your stomach twists and turns when he does this... You feel winded.

Was he always this handsome?

"Fuck, I’m so nervous my words are everywhere… No, ___. I’m not ending us. I could never do that to you... Or to myself. God knows I'd do everything to be with you... So, I'm changing the narrative. Yeah... Let's say that."

"Say what?"

Yoongi reaches to you, pulling you in by your waist. Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him and bat your eyes. He'll fold, right? He loves it when you do this. Instead, he smirks and leans in.

Against your lips, he murmurs softly and slowly; "___, I'd do anything for you."

"Good. Then let's do this—" You reach to kiss him. “Let’s fuck.”

He stops you. “Do you not get it yet?”

You shrug. “Get what?”

Yoongi feels his heart beat faster and faster. You look at him, desperate to make it out of this conversation. Desperate to make it work—but your uneasy heart finds it easier to resist than to give in.

So, Yoongi does it for you. ,

Yoongi does it first.

Giving in, he tells you; "Okay… You want to fuck? Fine. We can fuck… Under the condition that you let me be your boyfriend, because fuck it if I can’t have us.”

#bts fanfic #bts yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagine #yoongi fwb #bts fwb #yoongi x oc #yoongi scenario #bts scenario

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ashwhowrites · 13 hours

Note

Would it be okay if you could write deaf!reader x Eddie where she’s new at school and meets Eddie. The rest can be up to you. Thank you xxx

I have never written a deaf character before so the representation might be off, but I gave it a shot! I know in movies and shows, sometimes they can talk and sometimes it is just sign language, but I went with writing notes to make it romantic. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

I wrote a scene with a guitar amp and it was so hard to keep this story sweet and fluff and not turn it into smut

No words

It didn't take long for the new girl to catch Eddie's eyes. She was cute and seemed to be in her own little world. Eddie admired that she never seemed to care what happened around her.

He wanted to talk to her, but he wasn't the best at making a first impression. He wasn't the best at saying what he meant out loud. He was a writer. He wrote countless songs because he knew how to write down his feelings, not say them.

She was in a few of his classes, and he sat behind her. He watched as she walked into class, admiring her style. He assumed she was shy since she never spoke. She sat silently in class and kept to herself.

Eddie ripped out a piece of paper from a notebook he never touched. He scrambled down a message, then folded it. He took a deep breath and reached forward to tap her on the shoulder.

She turned around confused. She looked as the boy handed her something. She grabbed the note as she examined him.

He was mad cute. He had dark curly long hair, warm brown eyes, and pink lips. He wore a red and black flannel with dark jeans and dirty sneakers. She wished she could just stare but she didn't want to be creepy. She turned around and unfolded the paper.

"I'm Eddie, what's your name?"

She smiled to herself as she wrote her name underneath his. With a smile. She turned around and handed it back to him.

Eddie was shocked she wrote back to him. Before he could stare at her any longer, she turned around. Finally being that close to her face he realized she was prettier than ever.

His stomach fluttered as he saw her name and a tiny smile. Pleased that she didn't ignore him or write a mean message back.

"Well Y/N welcome to Hawkins High School. It sucks ass. The town is a little better, if you want a tour or anything I'm available."

She smiled as she felt a tap on her shoulder again, the teacher focused on the board as she turned. Her face burned as her fingers touched his as she took the note.

Eddie watched as her body moved up and down as she shook her head. He smiled as it seemed like she was laughing to herself. She felt nervous about saying yes, but she also didn't want to say no.

"Only if you promise to show me a great burger place ;)"

She waited until the teacher wasn't paying attention as she turned around and gave him the note. She turned around fast and Eddie opened it. He smiled and patted himself on the back.

The bell rang and she began to pack up. Eddie took a deep breath and walked in front of her desk.

"Hey Y/N," she looked up as she felt his presence. She focused on his lips. "Want to go after school today?"

She smiled and nodded

"Sweet, I'll meet you at the front?" he asked, he felt his face burn as she leaned close and stared at his lips. Her eyes squinted as she fully focused.

She nodded and smiled again. Waving goodbye as she walked to her next class.

Eddie waited outside the front door. He was nervous but excited. Befriending the new kid wasn't something Eddie ever did, but there was something about her that he wanted to know.

He smiled as she came into view, she waved as she got closer.

They didn't talk as they headed to his van. A couple students whispered as the two passed. And some students began to yell "FREAK!"

He felt comforted by the fact she didn't seem to notice it. And if she did, she ignored it.

Eddie started the van and turned down his radio, he remembered how loud he had it blaring this morning. He smiled over at her and she smiled back.

It didn't take long to make it to the burger place. The ride was a tad awkward as she didn't really talk, it more was of Eddie talking to himself.

They got seated in a booth, Eddie sat across from her as he nervously flipped through the menu.

He felt a soft tap on his menu, and he looked up.

Y/N smiled as she handed him a piece of paper.

He took the paper and read it, his eyebrows scrunched.

"I should probably tell you that I am deaf, so I'll be staring at your lips to communicate with you. Also, can you order for me?"

Eddie smiled and nodded. He snatched her pen and quickly wrote his own message.

She happily read it as he wrote

"No problem, I've been told I talk too much so maybe you not hearing me talk is a win. I will order for you, what would you like?"

Her heart raced as he moved on from the topic like it didn't change anything.

"Bacon cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate shake. Thank you for this, I'm excited to get to know you better and would love to watch you talk for hours :)"

~~~

The first date went amazing in Eddie's eyes. He didn't mind writing down his words, he enjoyed watching her reactions as she read the words. They ate, and he made her laugh over and over.

He knew he wanted to ask her on another date, he wanted to ask her out every night of the week.

She waved as she walked into class, Eddie gave her a flirty nod that made her dash for her seat faster.

He grabbed a piece of paper and began writing but she slid a note right on top of his.

He looked up as she turned around.

He opened it as the teacher wasn't looking

"Date #2? I saw an ice cream place on our tour yesterday."

Eddie came prepared for this date, he had a notebook and all different kinds of pens.

She waited on a bench outside as he ordered their ice cream. He prayed he'd make it to her before dropping any on the ground.

She smiled as he sat down next to her and handed her the ice cream. The first few minutes were silent as they tried to eat the ice cream before it began to melt.

They asked many questions about each other yesterday, so Eddie tried to think of new things to talk about.

"You look beautiful"

She felt her cheeks warm as she read his handwriting, she wrote just below his message. He watched as she wrote,

"Thank you. You are pretty cute too"

"You have a little something on your cheek,"

She read the note and was confused. She looked up at Eddie and she felt a cold glob on her cheek.

She watched as Eddie's face morphed into a smile as he laughed behind his hand. She smiled and grabbed a chunk of her ice cream, she watched as Eddie's smile dropped.

"No no, I'm sorry!" he said as she read his lips. He got up to run but she was fast behind him. He didn't make it far before she jumped on his back, his arms catching her legs as she smeared her ice cream right on his nose.

He let her down as he laughed, then she joined in.

"Uncool," he teased once he faced her. She just smiled and shrugged.

He smiled as he leaned in, his hand on her cheek as he wiped off the ice cream with his thumb.

Her breathing got faster as he looked into her eyes, his soft touch on her cheek made her heart race.

"Can I kiss you?"

He felt his stomach turn with nerves as he waited for her to read his lips. He got even more nervous when she blinked but didn't say anything.

He wanted to kiss her? She had never kissed anyone before and she wanted to tell him how nervous she was but she couldn't walk away.

She grabbed his hand and softly used her finger to write letters. He concentrated as he watched her fingers spell something out.

"N.E.R.V.O.U.S"

"Ner-nervous? You are nervous?" he asked, she watched his lips and then nodded. He cupped her jaw with his free hand, watching as she took a deep breath.

"Me too," he whispered, she read his lips and then saw his lips moving closer to her.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. It took a few seconds for her to shake off the nerves and kiss him back. She wasn't sure where to put her hands so she softly placed them on his chest.

He tasted of chocolate chip ice cream. And his lips felt amazing against hers. The kiss got better as they grew both confident.

He pulled away with a beaming smile, the ice cream on his nose transferred to her face.

"Let's get cleaned up," he laughed, she nodded and followed behind. Butterflies in her stomach as she felt her lips.

~~~

After many more dates, they became an official couple. Eddie's friends made sure she was comfortable and talked slowly so she could read their lips. They didn't mind reading and writing to communicate. It was clear that there was a connection between her and Eddie.

Eddie adjusted and took a beginner class in sign language. He was proud to show what he learned after every class. Sometimes he taught her new words.

One thing Y/N hated was that she couldn't share music with Eddie. She learned that was a huge part of his life from the beginning, and it made her sad that she could never hear him sing or play.

That doesn't mean Eddie ever excluded her. He'd have her sit next to his guitar amp, hook it all up, and let her feel the music as it played through. He'll never forget how excited she was when she could feel the music against her hand.

And that's what she did at his shows. She sat front row and placed her hands on the speakers.

He did it all because he loved her...he just hasn't said it yet.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson x deaf!reader

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 2 days

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

pairing: enhypen x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, isekai!au, royalty!au

content warnings: slight allusion to suicidal thoughts, swearing, reader is anxious about the possibility of being killed

summary: after dying in a freak accident involving a suspiciously familiar white and blue truck, y/n wakes to find herself in the body of a petty side villain from a romance fantasy novel, doomed to die at the hands of her own fiance.

notes: I'm terrible at summaries but the girlies who get it get it!! This short series is going to be a very lighthearted parody of your typical romance isekai manhwa🤭with all the usual shenanigans and tropes that typically follow! I hope you all enjoy~

I will be making a taglist for this fic, so if you're interested in being added please either drop an ask or let me know in the comments

Everything after the cut IS proofread for once, but please feel free to let me know if any typos slipped through the cracks!

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Let's go over this one more time,” you say, pacing back and forth, shivering as your feet press into cold marble.

“You said that five rehashes ago babe,” your best friend whines, head lolling over the side of your bed, “I think we get the plot, a bunch of Very Hot men all want you dead because you're sexy and you don't get along with their needy pick me girlfriend.”

“That- well I mean yeah,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “but that's not the point, Sun, the point is that we need to figure out how to make sure I, y'know, don't fucking die?!”

Sunoo groans, his silky black pyjamas blending into your tangled sheets so they cascade around him in an inky puddle when he slides closer to the floor. “The Princess was a bitch, a mean grumpy little thot, just don't be a hoe, avoid the Hot Men, and you should be fine- yah! What's with the face!-”

Expression pressed somewhere between exasperation and disgust, you shake your head at him.

“You've clearly never read an isekai manhwa, you can’t just run away from the plot, it holds onto you like a clingy stalker ex… sometimes as a clingy stalker ex.”

“So? Just… stick with plan Don’t Be A Thot?” he pauses for a moment before a shit eating grin spreads across his face, and you preemptively snag a pillow off the loveseat beside you. “It'll be hard to pretend to be something you're not but I'm sure you can do it!”

And there it is.

With well-practised precision, the embroidered cushion lands squarely in his face.

“This is my life on the line here Kim Sunoo! Could you take it seriously for just two seconds?”

Against your will, your eyes begin to sting with tears, limbs already growing restless in the few moments you've been standing still, fatigue and fear battling under your skin.

You hadn't slept peacefully in over three weeks. Your mind refusing to shut down of its own volition since you'd woken up in the room you now paced in, in the body you now paced in.

For the first four days, you were insane.

Screaming and pleading with a man who claimed to be your father, confused by the sorrow in his eyes and the tenderness in his hands as he prevented you from leaving your room.

Babbling through tears to the maids who filtered in and out, telling them that the title they were calling you by was not your own.

Curled into a corner of a closet, trying and failing to steady your breathing as you slowly came to terms with the fact that this was really happening.

You'd been truck-kun-ed clean out of the life you'd known.

Despair followed.

Hopeless, hollow grief when you realised what your name in this particular world might mean.

Princess y/n l/n.

Spoiled and arrogant daughter of the Duke.

A side villain of little significance set to die for the sake of the female lead.

Set to die.

You'd laughed when it hit you. The one thing you'd wanted more than anything in your previous life was being handed to you on a silver platter. How fortuitous.

It wasn’t until the eighth day, when you'd resigned yourself to your fate, that Sunoo came crashing through the large oak doors that were usually locked to keep you in, raised voices and a stamped of footsteps following behind him.

“SHE'S MY FRIEND I CAN SEE HER WHENEVER THE HELL I WANT,” he’d shouted.

Slamming your doors shut as he turned to face you.

He was the one who'd been running, face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly. But it felt like you were the one catching your breath, heart pounding in your ears.

“Sunoo?...” his name was barely a whisper on your lips.

“(y/n),” relief flooded his features, “you're here.”

He stumbled towards you, pulling you into his chest, body shaking as he held you so tight you could barely breathe.

“You're here you're here you're here-” he babbled, tears soaking through your clothes.

It took a long time to console him, and longer still for you to believe that he was there, puffy face squished between your shaking hands.

You remembered he'd been walking with you when the accident happened, his smiling face frozen in time when the headlights rushed closer. But you'd thought he survived. You didn't imagine for a second that he'd somehow landed in the same world as you.

That he'd be just as annoying in this world as he was in the last.

“Okay okay, I'm sorry,” he says in the present, standing and dragging your blankets with him, “I was trying to lighten things up, you've been stressing about this too much, I’m worried.”

And when he waddles next to you and wraps you in a hug, you know you wouldn't trade his annoying ass for anything. Sunoo was the reason you were trying to find a way to survive this in the first place. Without him, you knew you would've probably gone with the flow of the story, allowing the gallows to take you.

“I'm not stressing.”

“Sweetie, you have a whole conspiracy theory board pinned into what I think is a very valuable painting of your grandfather.”

“Touchè.”

You both turn to look at said board, a mess of string and poorly sketched portraits pinned to a painting of a grumpy looking old man on a white horse. “Remind me again who's who, I think I have the gay prince mixed up with the emo soldier boy.”

You smile, rolling your eyes, knowing full well he has no trouble remembering the character’s you’d told him about at least a dozen times.

“This one,” you say, pointing to an angular stick figure with a crown surrounded by sparkles, “is the crown prince who I'm engaged to because of fuckin’ course.”

Sunoo nods, “Of fuckin’ course.”

“The buff one is the knight I hire to kidnap the female lead when I think his royal highness has a thing for her, except knightey over here has a conscience and thinks the female lead is too pure and sweet to kidnap or whatever and ends up vowing to protect her or something.”

“You'd think someone with a conscience would have the decency to do a job if they had the audacity to take money for it, I mean he had no issue kidnapping a chick before he had the hots for her, that's kinda gross.”

“When you put it like that… anyway, the last two are a priest who wants her for her divine powers blah blah blah and the crown prince's illegitimate little brother.”

“His brother?”

“Yeaaa…”

“There’s other fish in the sea my man…” he says, giving the second crowned stick figure a sympathetic little pat. “So of the lot, who's the biggest threat?”

“My fiance…”

“No matter what we decide to do, you gotta dump the guy right?”

“Yes,” you say, confidence creeping into your voice. “There are a lot of variables, I've read enough of these things to know that 90% of the time they get kinda weird about their fiances when they dump them, but it's gotta be done.”

“Then we start there, the rest of this nonsense can't be figured out till it happens.”

He waves a hand at the other coloured threads linking squares of paper with possible outcomes and scenarios scribbled over them.

“That's true…” you breathe, brows furrowed, eyes darting across the board.

Sunoo’s lips curl into a slight pout when he sees you slipping back into the agitated state he’d been trying to coax you out of for the past fortnight. If he were being completely honest with you, he doesn’t believe in all this isekai nonsense, sure that if you simply avoid the plot you could easily live out your lives as a wealthy nobles without much trouble, but he knows that there isn’t much point in arguing with you. No, the best way to look out for you would be to support you as he’d always done, to have your back in this world the same way he had in the last, even if he thought you were being ridiculous.

With a sigh, Sunoo presses a thumb into the crease between your eyes, distracting you from the painting of your grandfather, holding back a smile at the way your nose scrunches in annoyance.

“Stop worrying,” he says, smoothing over the spot a few times before planting a kiss on your forehead, “whatever happens, we'll handle it together, okay?”

“...Okay,” you breathe, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, arms encircling your waist, the warm pressure of his presence surrounding you comforting. The one constant that had followed you into this life. “Plus, we’re early, aren’t we? The plot of your novel doesn’t start for…”

“Another year,” you sigh, “It all starts in their second year at the royal academy, when the female lead shows up as a transfer from the land they were at war with till a while ago… a show of peace or something once it’s all over.”

“We have time… you’ll be just fine babe, he says. “Plus, you keep worrying about them killing you, but don't they always end up falling in love with the dimension yeeted villainess in those comics?”

You scoff, pulling away. “I highly doubt that's possible Sunoo, I'm not the main villainess, I'm just a random side character.”

“A gorgeous, quick witted, adorable little random side character with an amazing sense of humour and such a big brain that she chooses to use for the dumbest things-”

“Sunoo!” you laugh, plucking another cushion off your couch to throw at him.

There was absolutely no way.

…

Right?

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nanamis-baker · 11 hours

Text

The Bold Stroke

Chapter 2 | Whisper of the Petals

Pairing: philosophy student Geto x art student f!reader (College AU)

Summary: A mystery blooms on your doorstep. A breathtaking bouquet of white flowers, a silent whisper of apology… but it's not for you. Delivered under the name of a man so handsome he takes your breath away, the mix-up sets your heart racing.

Fate seems determined to keep throwing you together, and soon you're caught in a whirlwind of chance encounters and undeniable chemistry. It was almost as if it was trying to bring you together.

Status: Ongoing

Word Count: 10.2k

a/n: okayy it's here!! This chapter took me a while to write because writing conflicting emotions is something new for me lol.

But a big big bigg thank you to my girl @whereflowerswenttodie for reading and rereading it and helping me out with it!! 💙

← Prev. Chapter | Series mlist | Next Chapter →

“So, are you meeting up with someone?” you asked Inumaki as you fixed your hair a little, the elevator mirror being perfect for it. The two of you were going to the library. Well, you were going to the library, and Inumaki had some work on the same floor, so he accompanied you.

Inumaki nodded, a small smile gracing his lips as the lift opened with a ding. The two of you went separate ways, waving each other goodbye as you went into the library. But as soon as you entered, your legs halted. What you saw was… unexpected, to say at least.

The library had transformed into a bustling marketplace of stressed students. Every table, including yours and Suguru's usual spot, was now occupied by unfamiliar faces. The studious quiet you'd craved was replaced by murmured arguments, frantic typing, and the occasional frustrated groan. This wasn't exactly how you'd envisioned making the presentation format with Suguru.

You had texted him earlier about the presentation format, but there was no way you could get any work done in this chaos. What could you do now? And what other option did you have? You could go to the cafe but-

Just then, a warm hand settled gently on your shoulder. You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat, only to find Suguru standing there, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he chuckled, his voice soothing amidst the library's chaos. You shook your head, the disappointment momentarily forgotten.

"No worries," you managed, forcing a smile. "But seriously, what do we do now?" You gestured towards the library, the silent question hanging heavy in the air.

Suguru's smile faltered, replaced by a knowing frown that mirrored your frustration. "I kind of expected this," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, a bunch of students submitted the same assignment, thinking they could fool their teacher."

A flicker of surprise shot through you. "The same assignment? How did you…"

"Long story," Suguru interrupted with a wry smile. "Let's just say the rumour mill at this school is efficient." He paused, his gaze flickering around the library before landing back on you. "The good news is, I might have a backup plan."

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in your eyes. "A backup plan, huh?" The unexpected turn of events had certainly piqued your interest.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of mischief dancing in his dark eyes. "It is a Top secret," he declared, smiling to himself. "But trust me, it's worth it." He reached for your bag, gently relieving you of the weight. "Just promise me you won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

"Can't guarantee anything until I know where we're going," you teased, the disappointment at the ruined library session fading with each passing moment.

Suguru grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. He reached out and gently grasped your arm, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, the crowded library seemed miles away as Suguru led you on a detour.

The corridors twisted and turned, a confusing maze that would make recalling the route later impossible. You found yourself relying on Suguru's confident strides, a comfortable silence settling between you broken only by the rhythmic click of your shoes against the polished floor.

Finally, you arrived at a seemingly nondescript wall, the only hint of something unusual was a small, silver panel nestled discreetly within the plaster. Suguru pressed a button, and with a soft whirring sound, the elevator door slid open.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You had no idea this elevator even existed!

Suguru stepped inside, beckoning you to follow. It was a maintenance elevator, you realised. The cramped space barely accommodated the two of you comfortably, and the close proximity did little to deter you. He punched in a series of numbers on the keypad, and with a slight jerk, the elevator began its ascent.

"This elevator," you began, looking up at him, unable to contain your curiosity any longer. "How did you find it?"

Suguru chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he looked down to meet your eyes. "Let's just say Satoru and I stumbled upon it during an… 'unforeseen circumstance'?" He rubbed the back of his neck, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the memory. "Someone was rather displeased with us - him, actually - at the time. Finding this secret elevator was a happy accident." His gaze lingered on the keypad, “And figuring out the pin wasn’t difficult, especially when Satoru is with you,” He finished, smiling fondly at the memory. You found yourself smiling too.

The elevator came to a halt, the familiar ding echoing in your ear. With a sense of anticipation, you watched as the doors slid open, revealing a sight that took your breath away. No longer confined by the walls of the library, you found yourself standing on a rooftop terrace bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

The sky stretched out before you like a canvas splashed with luminous hues of apricot and peach, with a hint of purple, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon. Below, the sprawling campus unfolded like a miniature world, with buildings and pathways etched in the golden light. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair and caressed your skin, carrying with it the scent of drying leaves, with a hint of muskiness.

For a moment, you were speechless, captivated by the unexpected beauty that lay before you. Turning to Suguru, you found a wide grin plastered across your face.

"So this is what you meant by 'Top Secret'?" you exclaimed, your voice brimming with excitement.

Suguru chuckled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah," he admitted, nodding confirmation. "This place is a bit of a hidden gem."

His gaze swept over your face, searching for your reaction. "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Like it, Geto?" you repeated, the question almost comical. "I absolutely love it!"

This secret terrace, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, felt worlds away from the unexpected chaos of the library. It was a private sanctuary, a place just for the two of you.

A satisfied smile spread across Suguru's face. "Good to know," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He gestured towards a nearby bench, its weathered wood and faded brown paint promising a comfortable perch. "We should have plenty of light for some time now - enough to complete that presentation, at least."

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, you readily took a seat on the bench. Suguru settled himself beside you, the air crackling with newfound energy. "Perfect!" you declared, clapping your hands together. "Then let's get started."

The sun, it seemed, had a favourite today. You sat beside Geto, bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon light, as it casted a golden halo around you. He found himself mesmerised, his gaze drawn to the way the light danced on your skin, turning it a canvas of shimmering bronze. Each flicker in your eyes held a spark more captivating than any gemstone, a tiny fire that seemed to ignite a warmth deep within him.

A golden aura surrounded you, and in Geto's eyes, you became the most exquisite treasure the world had to offer.

He struggled to focus. Every few moments, his gaze would snag on the way the sunlight danced in your eyes, igniting a flicker that stole his attention. Geto found himself mumbling a request for you to repeat yourself. Surprisingly, you didn't seem annoyed, simply repeating your point with a gentle smile.

You intrigued him – a captivating puzzle he couldn't seem to solve. Your thoughts, a fascinating mix of unexpected angles and surprising echoes of his own, kept him constantly engaged. During discussions, you'd throw out a witty remark that had him stifling a laugh, a sharp observation that made him see the topic from a whole new perspective. He'd marvel at the way your mind effortlessly weaved humour and insightful analysis, a combination that felt refreshingly unique.

There was a depth to your intelligence that went beyond mere academic prowess. You possessed a genuine curiosity about the world, a thirst for knowledge that mirrored his own. He found himself drawn to your passion, the way your eyes would light up as you delved into a subject that truly interested you. It was as if you held a mirror to his soul, reflecting things he hadn't even realised were there.

The more he interacted with you, the more he realised how much he craved your presence. It wasn't just the conversations; there was a spark between you, an undeniable chemistry that left him both exhilarated and strangely vulnerable. He found himself wanting to impress you, to share his thoughts and ideas in the hopes of eliciting another one of those dazzling smiles.

"Okay!" you said, a triumphant smile lighting your face. The last rays of the setting sun cast a warm glow on the terrace, painting the cityscape in hues of lavender and gold. "We are done now," you declared, gathering your things. You turned to him, and your smile was even brighter, “Suguru, I can’t thank you enough for your help with this - I couldn’t have done this without you” Gratitude and sincerity shone brightly in your eyes, but that wasn't what held his attention.

Suguru. You had called him by his first name. It was a simple gesture - you probably didn't even realise it - yet it resonated within him like a physical touch. The sound echoed in the twilight, a melody far sweeter than the chirping crickets. He craved to hear it more and more.

"You don't have to thank me again and again, you know?" he managed, his voice a touch rougher than usual. He cleared his throat, hoping to dispel the unexpected feelings that bloomed within him. "I enjoyed working on this project too," he added, hoping to convey his sincerity. It was true – it had all been stimulating for him. But a deeper truth lurked beneath. He enjoyed simply being near you - in your presence.

A pang of sadness, sharp and sudden, twisted in his gut. Here he was, enjoying the afterglow of a shared experience, yet a looming shadow threatened to engulf it. The project, the reason you were here with him, was done. When would be the next time the two of you see each other? Would you, like the last rays of the sun dipping below the horizon, simply slip away too?

The weight of his unspoken thoughts pressed down on Suguru as you walked towards the elevator. The last embers of the sun had faded, leaving the sky a canvas of deepening indigo. As he reached to press the button, blinding darkness swallowed the world whole, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

"What happened...?" He heard you murmur, a whisper lost in the sudden quiet. Suguru turned towards your voice, his eyes straining to adjust to the absence of light. He found you, a faint silhouette framed by the faint glow of the rising moon.

Concern flickered across him. He couldn't see you clearly, but he didn’t miss the slight tremor in your voice. He gently grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours, hoping to calm you.

Needing to confirm his suspicions, he took a tentative step towards the railing and peered over. Darkness. Not just the terrace, but the entire university grounds were shrouded in an inky blackness. The distant hum of activity that usually filled the evening air had been replaced by an unsettling silence.

"There seems to be a power cut in the area," he replied gently, his voice sounding hollow in the darkness. "But don't worry, we should have power back soon." He said, but for some reason, he had a hard time believing his own words.

"Can we use the stairs or something?" you asked, the slight tremor he had heard in your voice earlier was still there.

"Unfortunately, no," he sighed. "Satoru and I found it earlier, but they are blocked - inaccessible."

You didn't say anything, but Suguru heard a small, defeated 'Oh' escape your lips.

"But don’t worry, we can go and sit on the bench?" he offered, trying to shake away your worries. He could see the outline of the bench as his eyes had started to adjust to the darkness.

"Yeah, let's go," you agreed. As he guided you towards the familiar wooden seat, he felt your hand tighten around his, drawing his attention towards you.

Suddenly, you stopped, your voice tinged with awe. "Suguru, look up!"

He followed your gaze, tilting his head back. And then he saw it. The unexpected darkness had stripped away the veil of artificial light, revealing a breathtaking spectacle he hadn't even realised he'd been missing. A vast expanse of midnight blue stretched above them, a canvas sprinkled with a million shimmering diamonds. The stars. So many stars, each one a tiny beacon in the infinite darkness.

The darkness, once unsettling, now felt strangely beautiful. He stole a glance at you, your face bathed in the ethereal glow of the starlight, a look of wonder mirrored in your eyes. Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.

Not at all.

An unexpected idea sparked in Geto's mind. He gently released his hold on your hand and reached for his jacket. He knelt, spreading the garment on the cool ground, making sure it was properly spread out.

"Here," he said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked up at you. He could see you better now, bathed in the faint moonlight, and a flicker of curiosity played across your features.

"What are you doing?" you asked, And Geto could hear the amusement in your voice.

"Come on," he said, extending out his hand, offering it to you in the dimness. "This way we can see the stars better, without straining your neck."

Understanding dawned on you, and a delighted smile spread on your lips, mirroring his own. Taking his hand, you allowed him to gently guide you down onto the makeshift blanket his jacket provided. A warmth spread through him as the two of you settled on the jacket, laying down side by side. Geto could feel the heat radiate from your body against his arm.

A comfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the occasional chirp of a cricket, a sound that seemed louder than usual in the quiet. Geto kept his hand intertwined with yours, the warmth of your skin a surprising comfort against his. His thumb, as if possessed by a will of its own, began tracing lazy circles on your palm.

Stealing glances at your face, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, Geto searched for any sign of unease, a flicker of disapproval that might suggest he had crossed a line. Thankfully, he found none.

"Suguru?" He heard you say, your voice, soft as the night breeze. He turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze in the dim moonlight.

"You know," you began, a playful glint dancing in your eyes, "you never really told me why you were nose-deep in all those business books in the library that day."

A surprised chuckle escaped Geto's lips, despite the topic you were referring to. "Yeah? And you never told me why you chose to drown yourself in the world of arts," he countered, his voice betraying a hint of the unease he felt.

You let out a laugh, the gentle sound echoing in the dark. "Well, you never really asked!"

"But I am asking now," he countered, amusement dancing in his voice.

"Okay, okay," you said with a grin. "Fair enough. First, you answer my question, and then I'll answer yours. Deal?"

Geto hesitated for a beat, the darkness both a shield and a prompt. So Geto had to offer a part of himself to get to know you better - sounds interesting "Deal," he finally agreed.

You looked up at him expectantly and taking a deep breath, he decided to be honest. "The thing is," he began, trying to hide the disgust he felt about this topic, "those business books weren't exactly what I wanted to be reading. You see, my family owns a pharmaceutical company, one of the biggest in the country."

"Oh wow," you said, a hint of surprise in your voice, “I didn’t know that.”

"Yeah," he said, a humourless scoff escaping his lips. "They expect me to join the business after graduation. Here's the real thing though," he continued, feeling his voice drop low, "They see me as a puppet, someone to inherit their greed and continue their ruthless practices."

"What kind of practices?" he heard you ask, concern flickering in your voice.

He felt his jaw clench slightly, the darkness a welcome shroud for the anger simmering within him. "They price their life-saving drugs at exorbitant rates," he spat, the venom of his words sour on his tongue. "People who desperately need them can't afford them, all because of my family's insatiable thirst for profit. It goes against everything I believe in."

A heavy silence descended. He stole a glance at you, unsure how you'd react. But your expression was open, devoid of judgement, and held a flicker of understanding. It was an unspoken invitation to continue, a safe harbour for the storm of emotions brewing within him.

"They wouldn't listen to reason," he continued, his voice low and defeated. "I've tried, believe me. But logic and compassion seem to be foreign concepts in their world." But still, Geto had to do something right? "Maybe, just maybe, by learning their game, I can break this system and change it from within. But honestly," he admitted with a bitter laugh, "I don't even know if that's possible. Their control is absolute."

The darkness seemed to press in on him, a reflection of the despair that threatened to consume him. He yearned for a way out, a way to break free from the gilded cage his family had built for him.

Your hands squeezed his, bringing him back to the present. "That's a lot to carry," you finally said, your voice soft but firm. "The anger, the frustration, the feeling of helplessness." You paused, letting your words sink in. "But Suguru," you continued, your voice gaining strength, "don't let them steal your compassion, your beliefs. As long as you hold onto them, you’ll find a way. I know you will”

Geto smiled. You were so sweet, so kind, trying to comfort him. It was a small, tired smile, the kind that held the weight of the world but acknowledged a sliver of sunshine breaking through the clouds. Your words, laced with a quiet strength, resonated deep within him. It was true. He couldn't let their greed and corruption taint the core of who he was. But, at the same time, he knew it wasn't wise to hope for much when it came to his parents. Still, he wouldn't burden you anymore with his issue. Maybe a lighter topic would chase away the shadows that had crept into the conversation.

"You're right," he said, his voice regaining a touch of its earlier playfulness. "Now, answer my question from earlier." He raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness, hoping to lighten the mood.

He saw you smile, but it wasn't your usual, happy smile. A faint shadow flickered across your features, a subtle shift in your demeanour that sent a wave of unease through him. "I was in a car accident a few years ago - both my mom and I," you said, your voice softer than usual, your fingers twisting a loose thread on your shirt.

The playfulness drained from his face. An accident? The image of mangled metal and shattered glass flashed unbidden in his mind. "Oh," he stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Another car crashed into ours," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "The driver was drunk. Thankfully, the major impact was on my side, so my mom wasn't hurt too bad."

This wasn't what Geto was expecting to hear. He watched as you reached for your phone, a hollow feeling blooming in his chest. With slightly trembling fingers, you lifted the hem of your jeans, the phone's cool flashlight revealing a constellation of scars that snaked across your calves. Geto's mouth went dry.

You turned towards him, a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes. Hesitantly, you reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, revealing a faint scar that traced a jagged line along your hairline and the back of your neck. The moonlight glinted off the raised, pale flesh, a contrast to the smooth skin surrounding it.

Geto thought he had memorised the expanse of your face, every little detail like the map of a cherished land. But god, was he wrong. He had missed such a big part of you.

Shame washed over him in a sickening wave. He'd been so caught up in his own problems, that he hadn't noticed the silent stories etched across your body. His fingers moved to trace the scar, to feel it under his fingertips, but retracted his hand before it could reach you.

You continued, your voice quiet, "I was bedridden for months, Suguru. I couldn't even speak because a shard of glass had damaged my vocal cords. Hell, I wasn't even supposed to survive, but I did." You let out a humourless chuckle. "I could barely move, I couldn't speak at all, and the frustration – I can't even begin to tell you." You shook your head slightly, a ghost of the ordeal lingering in your eyes.

"My parents were worried, you know, and that's when I started painting," you continued. A small, bittersweet smile touched your lips. "It was horrible at first, of course," you added with a self-deprecating laugh, "but with time, I got better. It became my voice, a way to express the things I couldn't say. Even after I healed, I kept up with it. I wanted to know more – about other people's work, their thought processes, and why they painted what they painted. And so, I chose art as my major." You finished with a shrug as if it wasn’t a big deal or anything.

Geto didn't really know what to say. Words felt hollow compared to the weight of your story. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, the question tumbling out before he could stop it. He mentally face-palmed himself. Really? That was the best he could offer? It sounded insensitive, trivial even, in the face of what you'd been through.

You offered a small, understanding smile. "Sometimes," you admitted. "Not the scars themselves, thankfully. But half of my body is metal now, thanks to the accident. That gets achy sometimes, especially when the weather gets cold." As if on cue, a cool wind rustled through the leaves, and Geto saw the way you flinched so slightly, a shiver running down your body.

Geto's heart lurched. He cursed himself for his obliviousness. Here he was complaining about his family, while you carried the physical and emotional weight of a traumatic experience. Without thinking, he shifted closer, offering you the meagre comfort of his body heat. "Here, let me shield you from the wind a bit."

A warm smile graced your lips as you leaned into him slightly, accepting his support - accepting him. The gesture ignited a spark within Geto, a warmth blossoming in his chest that rivalled the one he offered.

Geto's fingers, which had hovered awkwardly in his lap, found themselves drawn to you again. This time though, they didn't hesitate. With tenderness, they brushed against the cool expanse of the scar on your temple, then trailed down to the faint jagged line along your neck. Your skin felt cold under his warm touch.

You inhaled sharply, your breath catching against his chest. Geto's touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were tracing a sacred map. He met your gaze, the moonlight and stars reflecting in your eyes like a million scattered diamonds. At that moment, it felt like he was peering into a whole new universe, one filled with unspoken stories and hidden depths. A universe he desperately wanted to explore, to get lost in, and maybe, just maybe, find a way back to, together.

His thumb grazed the soft skin of your jaw, a gentle nudge that tilted your face up a fraction. He wanted to see everything, to re-learn every detail etched on your face, the scars, the way the moonlight glinted off the moisture gathering in your eyes. He wanted to learn all your secrets, or at least the ones you were willing to share.

You responded instinctively, leaning in further until the space between you evaporated. Your warm breath mingled with his, a silent question hanging in the air. The stars seemed to wink in approval as the distance between your faces continued to shrink. Anticipation flickered in your darkened eyes, which then fluttered shut as Geto leaned in even closer. Slowly, the space between his lips and yours became nonexistent, a mere breath away.

Just as your lips were about to meet in a brush, The world erupted in a harsh burst of fluorescent light. Both of you jolted back, blinking away the temporary blindness.

It took Geto a moment to realise what had happened. He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the sudden quiet. "We got the power back," he mumbled, his voice thick with the unspoken desire that hung heavy in the air moments ago. His gaze darted away from you for a moment, then returned, searching your eyes for any indication of how you felt about the interrupted moment.

He took in your flushed cheek and your dilated, glossy eyes. That was all the indication he needed. A small, frustrated sigh escaped your lips. "Yeah," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The moment, the intimacy between the two of you, was shattered like a dropped glass, leaving behind a thousand shimmering shards of unspoken desire.

The silence stretched, heavy with what could have been. Geto watched as you began gathering your things, a subtle shift in your demeanour that spoke volumes. You turned to face him, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips despite the lingering frustration in your eyes. "We should go now, it's getting colder."

He nodded in agreement, his voice thick when he finally spoke. "Yeah, definitely." He grabbed his jacket and dusted it off, the simple action taking longer than necessary. He watched as you reached for your bag, then blurted out, "Here, let me get that," as he grabbed the bag, relieving you of the weight. It was the least he could do, anyway.

Geto had spent hours with you today, yet it felt like mere moments. "Let me walk you home, please," the words tumbled out before he could stop them, fueled by a desire to prolong this stolen time, this unexpected intimacy.

He held his breath, bracing himself for a polite refusal. But then, a bright smile bloomed on your face, a smile that lit up the terrace brighter than the harsh fluorescent lights that had shattered their moment. "Thank you, Suguru," you said, your voice soft but filled with a warmth that sent a thrill through him. "I'd like that."

“Okay, so what happened next? Did you invite him up?” Maki leaned forward, her eyes eager. She glanced at Yuta, who was also listening intently.

Your friends—minus Inumaki—were gathered at the campus café for a small celebration. You’d just received an A+ on your presentation, and of course, you had to share how Suguru's help had played a crucial role. The moment you mentioned his name, their ears visibly perked up.

It had been two weeks since that night on the rooftop, two agonisingly silent weeks. You and Suguru had barely exchanged any texts, and you hadn’t even seen him around campus.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you shook your head. “Of course not! It was just something we felt in the moment. I don’t think inviting him up would have been a wise decision.” You took a sip of your iced tea, the coolness soothing the flutter in your stomach. Every time you replayed the scene in your head, your heart skipped a little. But the silence that followed since then was deafening.

“It doesn’t sound like ‘something in the moment,’ especially with the way you described everything.” Yuta pointed out. One might think he wouldn’t be interested in such stuff, but when it came to his friends, Yuta was always supportive.

"Maybe," you admitted, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. The truth was, the interrupted kiss felt less like a missed opportunity and more like a promise waiting to be fulfilled. But what if you were reading too much into it? The thought sent a pang of disappointment through you, a feeling you quickly brushed aside.

Maki scoffed playfully. "Girl, you were practically glowing when you talked about him! And no one does what he did just to be friendly, you know."

Your cheeks burned even hotter. Maybe Maki was right. Maybe there was something between you and Suguru. A tiny flicker of hope ignited within you, but it was quickly washed away by a wave of uncertainty. Here you were, falling for him, yet his silence indicated that he probably regretted things—didn’t want it. But then the gentle look in his eyes, his silent support, and the way he held you oh so tenderly, shielding you from the cold...

Ugh, it was all so confusing. "But what if—"

Yuta cut you off with a gentle laugh. "Hey, you never know until you try, right? And besides, even if things don’t work out romantically, you made a great new friend. Win-win, I'd say."

You couldn’t help but smile at your friend’s statement. Yuta always knew how to see the bright side. Taking a deep breath, you decided to focus on the positive. Suguru was interesting, kind, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You could confide in him as a friend. But the way his touch comforted you, ignited you...well, that was definitely more than friendly.

"Yeah, you're right," you agreed, a newfound determination settling in your voice despite the nervousness you felt. "Maybe I'll just...see where things go."

Admitting it out loud felt a lot easier. "I like him, you know," you said, looking at your friends with a small smile. "He’s someone who seems to be interested in something that’s not superficial—like he wants to know me, understand me. And it just seems so rare for someone to be genuinely interested in you, right?"

Your friends looked at you with knowing smiles, a silent encouragement hanging in the air. It was probably more than just liking him, you knew. But admitting it out loud, even with just a hint of the deeper feelings swirling within you, felt like a huge step.

The art exhibition buzzed with a quiet energy. The gentle notes of classical music filled your ears, punctuated by the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses from the nearby champagne bar.

You stood mesmerised in front of a large, abstract piece. It was a puzzle, quiet literally. Fractured squares of vibrant colours and captivating strokes hung on the stark white wall, making an incomplete puzzle, while its other pieces were scattered chaotically on the floor below. The missing pieces created a gaping emptiness in the artwork, a void that tugged at your emotions.

Was it a metaphor for loss - longing? a commentary on the incompleteness of experiences? You longed to discuss it with Yuta. He'd always loved puzzles; his apartment was filled with framed pieces of puzzles he had solved so far. His mind was a kaleidoscope of unconventional interpretations, making you look at things with a different perspective.

A pang of guilt lanced through you. You were supposed to visit this exhibition with your friends, but Maki wasn't feeling well. Yet, here you were, lost in the beauty of the artwork displayed. Although Yuta had assured you he was taking care of her, telling you to not miss this exhibition, a part of you still yearned to be by your friend's side.

“Intriguing, is it?” A voice interrupted your thought. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The voice, once a source of comfort and playful teasing, now startled you. It was him, the man who had vanished after nearly kissing you under the twinkling stars, leaving you with nothing but lingering confusion and a heart full of unanswered questions.

And now, after almost two months, he was here, asking you this bloody question.

Suguru Geto.

Well, if he wants to play it this way, you can entertain him. After all, two can play this game. "It is," you began, your eyes finally meeting his. "But I'm trying to figure out what the artist is trying to show here."

Geto hummed thoughtfully. "You know what I think?" He paused. Was he expecting a response from you? Well, he wasn’t getting any. You remained silent, your gaze fixed on the artwork.

Undeterred, he continued, his voice taking on a philosophical tone. "This artwork seems to be a metaphor for life. Life throws pieces at you, like the ones scattered on the floor. It's all you need to make your life meaningful and beautiful. Opportunities, people, love..." he trailed off, the last word hanging in the air unspoken.

His gaze shifted back to the painting, his voice softer now. "But it's up to you how you make use of those pieces, to put in the effort to fit them together. If you're not careful, if you wait too long..." He paused again, his eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment, a flicker of something akin to regret and longing passing through them. "The pieces might be lost to you forever."

You sucked in a breath. No, he couldn’t mean what you were thinking. After all, the only conversation the two of you had after hanging out on the terrace was when you told him about your assignment and the grade you scored.

Yes, you had texted him a couple of times after that, but the reply seemed…dry. So, you stopped, hoping Geto would reach out to you when he was ready, but the man beside you never bothered to do anything about it.

But your mind replayed the memory of how he held you that night, a tender embrace that spoke volumes without words. It was a gesture that made you feel cherished, as if you were his most prized possession, far above any material wealth the world could offer. And when you shared the news of your accident, his reaction was unexpected - a mixture of regret and concern, as though he wished he had been there for you, even though he didn't even know you at the time.

No.

You couldn’t allow yourself to go there again.

Not if he wouldn’t follow you, keeping up with you.

Your mind buzzed with Geto’s words, his interpretation of the art piece lingering in your thoughts like an unshakable presence. Was he a piece that life had flung your way, meant to enhance the beauty of your existence? Or did he hold some other significance, perhaps serving as a lesson - a piece that doesn’t enhance the beauty of the puzzle, but serves as a guiding force for other pieces? Was he a fleeting moment of joy, destined to fade into memory like the strokes of paint on a canvas? Or was he a constant, a steady presence meant to shape your journey, to teach you lessons you had yet to grasp?

Stop.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to go there. Not again and again.

This man almost kissed you after you told him one of the deepest truths about yourself, and then disappeared, leaving you alone to deal with the darkness so similar to the inky blackness of that night. But this time, even the stars weren’t there to keep you company.

Leaving the painting behind, you moved towards a different section of the exhibition. Here, the air shimmered with vibrant light. Holographic projections of the paintings danced around you, painting your surroundings with the artist's colourful strokes. These ethereal brushstrokes, magnified and swirling, seemed to come alive, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of the artist's imagination.

However, the original artworks remained untouched. Hung on the wall next to their holographic counterparts, they offered a more tangible connection to the artist's hand, allowing you to study the physical texture of the canvas, the subtle nuances of the brushstrokes, and the deliberate choices of colour.

The projections painted your off-white dress in different colours, the fabric a soft caress against the skin of your calves as you walked from one painting to another.

Geto followed you closely behind as you navigated through the section, his silence a palpable presence behind your back. You felt his gaze track your movements, but you paid it no mind, completely enthralled by the painting before you.

It was a complete mess. It was a riot of colour, a whirlwind of strokes, a storm of emotions, yet it held you captive. The longer you stared, the more it seemed to transform, the chaos morphing and shifting before your very eyes. What initially appeared as a meaningless jumble began to hold meaning, revealing a hidden order within the frenzy. The chaos formed a structure - The structure within the chaos.

It was almost as if the holograms mirrored your feelings - Confusing, chaotic, shifting.

Lost in the painting's mesmerising chaos, you barely registered Geto's approach. He stood so close behind you that the warmth of his body radiated through your clothes, his upper arm brushing against your shoulder. His voice, soft and low, shattered the silence.

"What are you doing at this exhibition?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Turning around to face him, you finally took him in. Dressed in a brown turtleneck that mirrored the depths of his eyes, his attire accentuated their warm, inviting hue. He wore a casual blazer on top of it, the colour slightly lighter than the colour of his turtleneck. His raven hair, noticeably longer, was tied back in a simple half-bun, the remaining strands cascading down his shoulders. The change, subtle yet noticeable, added a touch of softness to his features.

But what stood out the most were the circles under his eyes and the hollowness of his face. Even as the holograms danced all over his face, they did nothing to conceal his worn-out state; they almost amplified it.

A pang of concern flickered in your chest, a fleeting thought about his well-being. However, you quickly pushed it aside. Geto was the one who decided not to keep in touch anymore, so now it wasn’t your job to be concerned.

But of course, it wasn’t easy to just get rid of your feelings for someone like they never existed, was it?

"This is an art exhibition, open to all," you finally answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "and in case you forgot, I am an art student, Geto." Your voice was filled with sarcasm, and Geto chuckled. You smiled sweetly at him as you asked, "What about you?"

"Well," he began, his voice laced with a playful drawl, "as someone just said, this is an art exhibition, open to all." He shrugged, smirking. You gave him one final, unamused look before your eyes turned back to the painting.

For a few minutes, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the lingering warmth of Geto's presence. Finally, he spoke, "What do you find so captivating about this painting?"

His voice, a soft melody laced with genuine wonder, resonated with a yearning that transcended mere curiosity. It was as if you held the key to answering the storm of questions swirling within him, your insights holding a weight far greater than anything else. A hunger to delve deeper, to peel back the layers of your being until he could see the very essence of you, consumed him.

A ghost of a smile danced on your lips. How could you deny the man who held such profound significance in your heart, the man who yearned to truly know you, to unravel your soul until there was nothing left to be discovered?

No, of course you couldn’t keep away, no matter how hard you tried.

Finally, you answered him. If he wanted a piece of your mind, you would gladly offer it to him. "For me, it’s those golden strokes," you began, "It was definitely a risky move for the painter. Those strokes could have ruined the painting, but it didn't. Instead, it made this painting what we see."

Geto hummed, "So, you feel like that stroke was a bold move for the painter?"

You nodded your head in response. Geto continued, "But what if that stroke ruined the painting?"

A slight smile played on your lips. "Well, then the painter would have learned something important. They'd know they could create the painting again if they wanted to, and that's a power in itself. They'd know they have the skill and the confidence to reach that level of greatness again." You looked him in the eye, your gaze pinning him, "Even if the stroke ended up ruining the painting, the artist could always put in the effort of making it again, and that in itself is a form of victory. They wouldn't be afraid to take that bold step again and again, till the painter gets what they want from the painting."

Geto's gaze drifted away for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly as he processed your words. It was as if he was engaged in an internal debate, weighing the implications of your statement against his own judgement.

“I wish I could look into your mind.” He finally said, his eyes slightly wide in wonder.

But oh Suguru, little did he know, he has been settled there since the two of you met in the cafe.

A soft buzz from Geto’s phone brought you out of your thoughts, making you realise how quiet it was around you. He pulled out his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed a message. As you watched him, the silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and met your gaze. "It was good seeing you again," he said. Were you overthinking, or was his voice a touch more formal than before? "I have to go now. Enjoy the exhibition."

With that, he turned and walked away, his steps hurried, leaving you standing there with a lingering feeling of unease. You hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, and the abruptness of his departure left you wondering about your interaction with Geto.

Soon, you were done with the exhibition, the vibrant colours of the holograms still dancing behind your eyelids. Your mind buzzed with inspiration, the beauty of the paintings displayed sparking a flurry of ideas in your head.

The puzzle painting seemed to mock you as you passed it one last time, the question echoing in your mind: where did Geto fit in your life? What piece of the puzzle was he?

Exiting the building, you descended the stairs, the chill in the winter air making you shiver despite your sweater. As you reached the bottom, your steps slowed, coming to a halt. There was Geto, standing by the entrance. But he wasn't alone. He held a woman close, his arms wrapped tightly around her like he never wanted to let go. Her head rested against his chest, and his eyes were closed, almost nestled against her shoulder. The intimacy of their embrace was undeniable, a silent language of comfort and connection that spoke volumes.

Despite the prickling suspicion in your chest, you knew better than to jump to conclusions. This wasn't your place to pry. Yet, the image of their closeness branded itself into your brain, a searing feeling that left your heart burning.

"Well, don't you two look cute," a voice boomed. You looked up to see a man with white hair and sunglasses approaching them, a wide grin plastered on his face.

Gojo Satoru - the name echoed in your mind - Geto's best friend.

You watched as Geto and the woman pulled away, the woman playfully swatting Gojo's arm. But it wasn't the playful interaction that held your attention. Even from a distance, you could see the lingering longing in Geto's eyes as he looked at her.

It hit you like a punch to the gut. This was what he'd been preoccupied with. This is why he had kept you in the dark. This all felt like a cruel joke, life playing a twisted game on you. Of course he had a girlfriend - a guy like him probably had women lining up around the block.

You shook your head, a humourless chuckle escaping your lips as you made your way down the remaining stairs. Yeah, it was pretty obvious what kind of piece Geto was. A missing piece, a piece that belonged to someone else's puzzle, not yours.

You stood outside maki’s wooden front door, finger hovering over the buzzer. But, before you could ring, the door swung open, its hinges creaking slightly as familiar black, tousled hair came into the view.

Yuta lifted his head, momentarily startled to see someone standing right outside the door, before his eyes met yours. A small smile graced his lips. You took note of the black duffle bag hanging on his shoulder.

You returned his smile, “Leaving now?” you asked him, watching as a small blush crept up his cheek. “Yeah, Maki is feeling better now, so I figured I should go home.” He answered, relief clouding in his eyes before his expression turned curious, “Oh, how was the exhibition yesterday? Again, I am so sorry we couldn’t make it.”

You shook your head, dismissing his apology. “No need to apologise, Yuta.” Despite the events of last night, you found yourself smiling. After all, you saw some works by your favourite artists. You cannot let a man - no matter how much he meant to you - ruin something that you have been looking forward to so eagerly.

“The exhibition was great, Yuta,” You said, as you told him about the puzzle artwork. “I really missed you guys there, you would have loved it too.” You finished, hoping to convey your sincerity with your words.

Yuta’s eyes lit up and his smile widened, “That sounds amazing! I hope next time all of us can go” He said, before gesturing towards his bag, “Anyways, I gotta go now - Maki’s in her room, by the way.” With a final wave, he moved towards the front door, the door shutting behind him as he left Maki’s apartment.

You made your way towards her room, the minty smell of ointment filling your nose. You found Maki sitting on her bed with a small crochet blanket draped over her legs. The vibrant colours of the blanket reminded you of summer.

Maki looked up when you approached, a small chuckle leaving her lips as she rolled her eyes, inviting you to sit on the bed. “I knew I would see your face today.” she said, causing you to smile. Her voice today was a far cry from the shaky, tired voice she had yesterday.

Yeah, Yuta was right, Maki was definitely feeling better.

You also noticed that some colour has returned to her face, and Maki looked better now than she did at college, and this observation somehow soothed and comforted you. You enquired about her well-being and got to know that Maki had a cold and fever, but thanks to Yuta’s support, she was feeling far better.

Oh, Speaking of Yuta…

“So Yuta stayed the night, huh?” You finally asked, an eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing your lips.

Maki rolled her eyes again but she didn’t shy away from the topic. You watched as the top of her cheeks turned slightly pink. It was a rare sight, something you found so cute. Both Yuta and Maki had a similar reaction to a similar situation.

“Yeah, he was just making sure the fever doesn't get worse or anything,” she said, a small smile on her lips as if she was recalling last night. “He was really sweet about it, actually.” She said it as if she just realised it too.

You smiled for your friends, “So, do you want something with him?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Maki’s expression turned thoughtful, though a hint of playfulness remained, “I do like him,” She admitted. There was no hesitancy in her voice. “But I don’t want to force things with him or anything. Just go with the flow, you know?” She met your eyes as she said, “Besides, he is a great friend - that matters above everything else.”

You admired Maki’s clarity. She knew what she wanted.

Nodding your head in response, you reached out to squeeze Maki's hand. But just then Maki let out a small cough. You quickly reached for the glass of water on her bedside table and handed it to her, "Here, take a sip of this."

After a few sips, a sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Alright," she said, her voice slightly raspy, "enough about me. Tell me what’s going on between you and that Geto guy?" Her gaze, even dimmed by illness, held its usual unwavering intensity. It burrowed into yours, leaving no room for secrets. “And don’t lie, I can tell something is bothering you.”

Your heart sank at the mention of Geto's name, the emotions from last night bubbling back to the surface. You avoided them, though. "I think he's seeing someone else," you admitted with a bitter chuckle.

Maki's frown mirrored your own confusion. "But from what you told me…?"

"Yeah, I know," you sighed, your voice heavy with resignation. "But then again, we didn’t speak for two months. I don’t really blame him for pursuing someone else."

But the ache in your chest refused to dissipate, stubbornly clinging to the remnants of hope you had tried to bury.

You recounted the events of the exhibition, the cryptic nature of Suguru's words, and the sight of him with another woman. Maki listened attentively, her unwavering gaze conveying understanding as you poured your heart out to her.

Maki sighed, her disappointment evident in the furrow of her brow. “The woman you are talking about,” she began, her tone tinged with frustration, “I think I saw her and Geto at a cafe - the description sounds the same. But I didn’t think much of it because I just assumed they were friends or something.” Another sigh escaped her lips, laden with exasperation. “But from what you're saying… man, that guy is so clueless!”

"Now, there’s no point in that anyway," you murmured, your shoulders slumping as you shook your head. "I’m just disappointed because I thought we had something, but I guess I just misunderstood things."

Maki's eyes flashed with indignation. “I saw the way he looked at you in the cafeteria - like a teenage boy looking at his first crush. It was so sweet it was almost disgusting,” she said, her nose scrunching up slightly. “So no, you did not misunderstand things. That guy turned out to be an asshole.”

Maki reached out and squeezed your hand, a gesture so unexpected from her that it caught you off guard. “You deserve better than someone who doesn’t know what he wants.” Her gaze was intense, taking in your slumped shoulders and tired eyes. “You know what?” she began, determination clear in her voice. “Give me your phone.”

“You are not texting him,” you said sternly, though you unlocked your phone and handed it to her anyway.

“Of course not,” she replied with a humourless chuckle. “He isn’t worth my time.” You rolled your eyes at her statement, but the corners of your lips twitched upwards, feeling a bit of the weight lifting off your shoulders.

You peeked over your phone, curiosity getting the better of you. Maki was busy downloading - “A dating app?” you asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Maki nodded in response, her fingers flying over the screen as she added a description and prompts to your profile. “But Maki, I don’t want to date someone just like that,” you protested.

“You deserve to meet someone new and exciting. It doesn’t have to be serious,” Maki replied, her voice firm but caring.

You had never used dating apps before, so you felt hesitant to try it out. The idea of swiping left and right felt strange, almost impersonal. But another part of you was curious to see how things would turn out. After all, college was ending soon, you had barely dated anyone until now, and then the thing with Geto...

Maki looked up from the phone, her expression softening slightly. “I know it feels weird, but sometimes you need to step out of your comfort zone. Just give it a try. If you don’t like it, you can always delete it.” She angled the phone towards you, the dating app now downloaded and ready to go. “Think of it as an adventure. You never know what might happen.”

Maki began swiping for you, her eyes occasionally flicking up to check your reaction. One particular profile caught your eye. “Wait!” you stopped her just as she was about to remove the profile.

“What? Him? Really?” Maki asked, her nose scrunching up in mild disgust.

“Hey, he looks good, okay? But that’s not the point,” you said, leaning in to get a better look. The picture of a familiar white-haired man stared back at you. “That’s Geto’s best friend, Gojo.” You told her, swiping down on the profile to see more.

You came across a picture of him and Geto, seemingly from a beach trip. Both of them were wearing floral shirts and sporting big grins. The sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. The carefree happiness on Geto's face contrasted sharply with the confusion and heartache you felt.

The text with the picture read:

Yeah, that’s my best friend, but you won’t find him here. His heart is already taken, but mine isn’t ;)

You shook your head, ignoring the icy feeling that crawled up your veins; a feeling that didn’t have anything to do with the cold, biting wind outside. After a few more swipes, you got some matches. Maki took over, texting them on your behalf.

“‘Are you free tomorrow?’” Maki read the text from one of your matches out loud. Yeah, you were free, but was it wise to go out with someone you barely knew? As if sensing your hesitation, Maki said, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but I think you should.” Then, she added, “It might help you deal with your feelings for Geto.” You noticed a hint of bitterness when she said his name, as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.

You bit your lip, considering her words. Maki has always been your rock, her advice helping you through the toughest situations. Finally making up your mind, you said, “Yeah, I guess I’ll go out with him - see how it is.” Then, with a teasing tone you said, your voice light, “But I am going only for you.”

Maki smiled at you, her expression lightening. “Great! I’ll text him then.” Her tone turned serious. “But keep texting me, okay? He seems okay, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be worried about you.”

You smiled at your friend’s protectiveness. “Yeah, I will Maki, don’t worry about it.”

A small part of you felt like this was wrong, especially since there was no communication between you and Geto to clear things up. But he had started dating someone else, hadn’t he? His heart was already taken, wasn’t it? So did it matter what you felt for him? Clearly, it didn’t mean anything to him, so the sooner you got over it, the better it would be for you.

The sudden crack of lightning jolted you, sending a streak of black liquid across your eyelid just as you were applying your eyeliner. A muted curse escaped your lips as you grabbed a makeup wipe, determined to fix the line. But the damage was done – a dark smudge now decorated your under-eye. With a sigh, you opted for a clean look, wiping away the eyeliner completely.

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a low rumble of thunder. Your brow furrowed as you pulled on your clothes for the date. Winter rain was a rarity, but the damp air and earthy scent were unmistakable signs of a downpour.

You had to hurry now. Getting caught in a winter rain shower was the last thing you wanted, especially with your already achy legs. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that you were looking presentable. Despite the eyeliner disaster, you felt satisfied with your hair and makeup.

You made your way towards the restaurant, taking the subway. As you emerged from the station, the warm, stale air was replaced by a blast of icy wind that stole your breath. It was raining now, but thankfully it was misty; the droplets of water barely felt like anything. The rain clung around your face, blurring the city lights into shimmering halos. The rhythmic rumble of the train faded behind you, replaced by the traffic honks and the murmur of people walking around.

Your legs felt like lead as you trudged towards the restaurant. You'd chosen a cosy Italian place that was a little far from your apartment. Your date had insisted on a ‘middle point’ since he lived far away from your place, and you couldn’t protest.

Doubt gnawed at you. Was this the right way to get over Geto? The memory of his supportive glances and gentle laugh sent a pang through your chest. This date with someone you barely knew, suddenly felt like a flimsy shield against a tidal wave of longing. Yes, you and your date had exchanged some text, but could you really judge a person just through texts? But cancelling now felt like a betrayal – you couldn’t bring yourself to leave someone hanging like that while they waited for you.

With that in mind, you pushed open the glass doors of the restaurant. The smell of molten cheese and basil greeting you, followed by the gentle clink of glasses and happy murmurs. The whole place was bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights.

Once inside, you navigated through the crowded space until you spotted a familiar-looking face. Your date's blond hair was combed neatly, but there was something different about his hair compared to the pictures you saw. Still, you paid it no mind as you made your way to the table.

As you reached the table, you noticed an almost empty lowball glass that sat in front of him. It had a single ice cube clinging to the bottom of what appeared to be bourbon, given by its amber colour. Before you could dwell on the obvious red flag, dark hazel eyes met yours.

You forced out a smile. “Hey, you must be –”

The words died on your lips as he cut you off, his voice clipped. "You're late."

Huh?

I know things take a turn here, and even I wasn't expecting this to happen but it just happened, to the point I had to change the storyline lol

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Looking forward to your feedback 🌷

@whereflowerswenttodie @celestie0 @lostfracturess @nakariabnrb @yungbloode

@peppertoastuniverse @hopefulpeachcolor

Stained glass and heart dividers by @/saradika

Galaxy divider by @/cafekitsune

Line divider by @benkeibear

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prolix-yuy · 2 days

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Hello friends! It's been way way way way WAY too long since we chatted, and to be honest I've been taking an embarrassingly long time to write this update post because godDAMN life just gets you sometimes and you go on an impromptu hiatus that gets super messy. So let's get into what's been going on and what to look forward to!

Pedro Tax for this long-ass post.

(We're gonna get into some personal stuff, but if you're just here for what's coming up skip down to WHAT'S NEXT for the tl;dr version)

So beyond work getting hectic from January to March, which was the catalyst for everything getting wacky, I experienced a weird emotional turn that I wasn't expecting. It made me get a little introspective, which I blame some of my productivity slump on.

As I was finishing up the Bangathon entries, I noticed a sharp decline in interaction. I'm a fairly young fic writer on Tumblr, but I was a little baffled as to why stories I'd posted only a week before got a nice bit of interaction yet the newer ones were only getting half to a quarter of what I expected. For a minute I thought I had been shadowbanned (I was not) or I hadn't tagged the posts (I had) or my taglists weren't working (they were). People were already talking about interaction being lower, so I sat back and tried to go with the flow and not let it bother me. I posted Decoherence, which has a more niche audience, but I was definitely missing and wishing for some of the comments and reblogs I thought I might get.

All this led up to one of the least favorite voices in my head saying something that stuck around:

"Well, you were right not to become a writer if your motivation is this closely tied to feedback."

If you're new here or I haven't talked about it much recently, I initially was planning to be a writer. Went to school for it and everything. While I was there I felt like I hadn't found the stories I wanted to tell yet. My colleagues were developing in their niches and writing "the great American novel" and I didn't feel like I fit in. My stories had a lukewarm reception, and I never felt like anyone was excited about anything I was trying to say. So I wrote myself into burnout by the time I graduated with not much to show for it. I ended up doing a career switch, which I love to this day, but I stopped writing for almost 10 years.

Coming to Tumblr, I felt that spark of excitement writing again, and some of that was definitely due to people commenting and being excited or interested in the stories I was sharing. That truly revived something in me I thought was long gone, and reflecting back on the last two years that I've been sharing stories with this community makes me wildly emotional. I didn't know how much I missed of the life I left behind, and how much joy it brought me to share stories again.

Which is why it was SUPREMELY FRUSTRATING to have that shitty little voice pulverize my productivity and excitement over something as silly as interaction. But I'm sure most of you know how hard it is to get that voice out of your head. I worked to write things I found fun and less stressful than the series I already felt bad for not updating. And while I still love those stories, it felt like I was pulling them from an inauthentic place and finishing them wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped.

Thus the hiatus! I stopped writing and turned my attentions to consuming and creating in other ways. I watched some shows I'd been meaning to catch up on, started planning to buy a house, worked my butt off at the day job. And I was starting to feel like inspiration was coming back. I didn't want to spook it so I took my time and promised myself I was going to start small and not stress about getting stories out for a bit.

Top that off with some medical surprises, an upcoming surgery, and a little re-evaluation of life moving forward and things have been wild. But I've been missing the daily joy I get from being part of this fandom, and I'm getting back into being here more because I miss you guys! AND! I have stories I want to share and fun to be had. So let's shake off all the heavy shit and get to the fun stuff!

WHAT'S NEXT!

The big thing I'm getting ready to post (after teasing it for so long) is the 2024 Bangathon! This one is different from last year's because instead of requesting stories from me, the Bangathon is open to anyone who wants to participate! There will be a randomizer to play with, and some fun bonuses for those who participate. The announcement will be coming out soon, stay tuned!

As for fics, here are some updates on what's in my WIPs:

Series:

I Think of You: I spent some time rewatching Mando for the newest installment, and I've finally gotten the thread of where to go next thought out. It's been a long time coming so this one's gonna be BEEFY to make up for it.

SW!Frankie: I am crushed to realize it's been over a year since I posted any SW!Frankie! I've got a new story about him and Ms J moving in together I need to finish, then some more asks that are getting into new story arcs I'm excited to share!

Best Laid Plans: Dieter and Murch's first date is bouncing around in my head and I NEED to get it on paper. There's much fun to be had, and I've been binge listening to my playlist for them to get into the headspace.

Midnight Alley: I got all up in my own head about continuing the story with these two and lost a little steam, so I'm going to ease off my "big plans" and start smaller with some oneshots instead. I think it'll help me find out where I want this story to go.

One Shots in Progress:

Decoherence Follow-Up

Incubus!Dieter Ask

You know, laying it out like that makes it feel much more manageable than my brain was telling me! I'm also planning to prioritize more fic reading while I'm getting these updates in ship-shape. Reading your stories always helps get my creative juices flowing, and there are so many good ones lingering in my TBR list that I need to devour.

This has been a rollercoaster of emotions, so thank you for coming on the ride with me. I'm excited to bring more of myself back to Tumblr and have fun with all of you again! To many more stories!

#prolix wips #I'm sorry I've been away for so long!#but I'm back!#if there are things I missed please tag me or send them!#I want to read all your stories!

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lightlycareless · 20 hours

Note

Do you think at any point in Naoya’s life that he was ticklish and do you think that as an adult he might still be ticklish? Lately, I’ve been thinking about how if Naoya maybe had one part of his body that was still pretty ticklish that he tries to keep quiet about since he doesn’t wanna embarrass himself until somehow Y/N finds out 🤭

Heya!!

Aww, this was unbearably fluffy cute ngl. Anything that has Naoya acting like an actual, dorkish human is enough to have my heart all ajghajksgha uwu. Hope you enjoy this small thing I wrote!

warnings: fluff. mentions of pregnancy. .....pee I guess. hahahahahaha it's meant to be cute, everyday pregnancy things I swear lmao. a bit of highschool au.

happy reading!!

Ticklish Naoya is one of those things that no one ever saw happening mainly because… well, it’s not like anyone is testing it out to see if it’s true, you know?

No one had it in their minds to approach the heir, place their hands on his sides and tickle him to see if he’d have some kind of reaction.

No one, except that is, you.

It was a silly bet, whether ignited by your curiosity or perhaps your need to be unnecessarily close to him, either way, you’d find yourself in that exact situation one fateful afternoon, under the pretense of wanting to get some hands-on training experience with the only other excellent sorcerer you trusted!

And of course, having a small crush on you as well but yet to confess it, Naoya didn’t deny the opportunity, completely unaware of your ulterior motivations, until it was too late.

“You said you wanted to… test your accuracy?”

“Mmhmm.” You innocently nod. “I’ve been having issues with my aim as of lately, maybe I need to be tested under pressure? No holding back punches if you know what I mean!”

“Are you sure?” Naoya asks, hesitant to pursue this course of action if there was the slightest possibility you were to end up hurt, and worse—by him.

“Yeah! I’m sure.” You insist. “We won’t have to do much, I just wanted to test this out.”

“Alright, then. What do you want me to do?”

“Just… stand there, first—” you say, carefully gently guiding him into position; it’s almost surprising to see him willingly go along with your ideas, for he was often… dismissive of others. Well, he did say he didn’t find you as annoying as the rest, but was that all there is to it? A part of you hopes not.

While your initial purpose was to find out if Naoya was ticklish, you couldn’t help but get a bit sidetracked by the firmness of his muscles underneath your palms, his intoxicating scent you’ve grown to solely associate with him regardless of where you found it, and why not, the height difference that became even clearer now that you were a few mere inches away from him.

All these things, besides others, inevitably made you wonder how it would feel to be embraced by him, held tight against his chest as he rested his head above yours, professing his affection for you as he swore to never let —

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, cutting through your daydreams.

“Oh—Nothing!” You chirp, scrambling to hide the embarrassment of your cheeks by looking away, to no avail of course, because for an equally smitten man like him, he could be nothing but attentive to you, pondering if he’d done something in this short moment of silence to enact that kind of response from you, or more likely… how adorable you looked, his mind quickly assuming this would be your reaction to when he finally kissed you.

Unless this was caused by someone completely different. He held no proof of this short-lived accusation, but his mind was eager to accept this burning jealousy, loathing the notion that you already belonged to—

“Are you ready, Naoya?” It was your turn to distract him, Naoya blinking as you take position before him.

“Ye—Yes. As ready as I’ll… ever be.”

Going back to your initial purpose, you had to be very careful not to show your cards if you wanted things to go as you wanted.

So, you played along, asking him to do the things you wanted in hope of getting his guard down, which worked, Naoya following your lead, down to the smallest details… until it was finally time for the grand finale, the moment you were eagerly waiting for!

After a few rounds of training and acting like you were still unhappy with your results, you’d find yourself in a position where Naoya’s back faced you, in a completely innocent, unsuspected manner that almost had you feeling bad for misusing his trust: but your curiosity proved to be far greater, much stronger, and when the opportunity presented itself…

You tackle him! Hands quickly landing on his sides to tickle and pinch him as much as you could to earn a reaction from him, which you were joyfully granted, much to your enjoyment and surprise.

“No way, Naoya—you’re actually ticklish?!” you’d giggle, continuing your attack as he began to squirm underneath your hold.

“Y/N—what in the—what are you doing?!” Naoya gasps, confused by your abrupt actions—was this part of your plan all along?! Or did someone—did someone pay you to it?! Is this being recorded??! “Stop it, now!!”

But you didn’t, no matter how red his face got or how much he attempted to pull you away, you simply couldn’t, because his reaction was far better than anything you imagined!

“I would’ve never thought!” you continued, enjoying the fluster on his face which you naturally thought cute, or his laughter… things you’ve never seen on him before that just made your infatuation grow even more.

“Enough!” Managing to regain his strength through your attack and embarrassment, Naoya is finally able to take your hands and pull them away from him, moving you before him to place you in the same position as him.

You don’t need anything else to happen to understand the gravity of your miscalculations, to remember there was a reason why everyone urged you to steer away from provoking Naoya, as tempting as that was, because one way or another, you’d always end up paying the price.

Just as he intended to do so now.

“Let’s see if you like that!”

“No—wait, Naoya—!” and so, he pressed his fingers to your sides, erupting a loud laughter from you which you desperately tried to hold back, whether by pressing your lips together or trying to ease his hold on you, but he’s always been much stronger than you; and whatever struggle you put up he quickly squashed, all for the sake of revenge.

Though that desire would disappear soon after upon hearing your sweet laughter for the first time (so close, that is) alongside your warmth and scent that reminded Naoya why he harbored such strong feelings for you in the first place… never wanting this moment to end, not even when you uttered the following.

“Naoya, stop it! Seriously!!” you laughed. “You’re—you’re going to make me pee!!”

And then, whether because you wanted to highlight your urgency, or simply because it felt right to do so, your face turns around, raising your gaze to his and locking on each other’s eyes—

A simple, quick gesture, but more than enough to make everything stop, your laughter, his smirk, his hands…

In favor realizing the “compromising” position your innocent prank had put the two—the closeness, the… the intimacy!

A fact that has you instinctively pushing away from him, face red (and not from laughing too much, not anymore) as you try to push aside these growing feelings of embarrassment, thinking perhaps it was best to walk away now before this situation grew into a bigger misunderstanding!

Well, fortunately for you, the answer would easily present itself when he said the following statement.

“Y/N—Did you—Did you pee yourself?”

“WHAT?!” You shrieked, Naoya flinches.

Of all things he could’ve said, he just had to go with that one.

“Why—why would you even say that?!”

“I mean—you—"

But you didn’t even prove Naoya a moment to explain himself before you were already out of the training grounds, swiftly making your way across the hallways and back to your dorms, where your startled roommate would worriedly ask if everything was ok, why were you so exalted, and weren’t you supposed to be with Naoya?!

“I just did the most embarrassing thing in the world!” you cried as you plummeted on the bed, pulling the cover over your head as you wished the earth would just swallow you whole! “I made a clown out of myself in front of the boy I like, and I will never, ever be able to take that back!!”

“Y/N, surely you’re exaggerating—” she attempts to comfort you.

“No! You don’t get it!” you gasp back. “I’m never showing my face ever again, ever!”

Your roommate simply sighs, taking a seat by your side and patting your back.

“… Oh, he’ll hate me and make fun of me forever. I just know it!”

Unless… fast forward to a few years, you might be proven wrong.

“You know what I just remembered, Y/N?” Naoya says, looking up from whatever report he was going through that evening.

“What?” you murmur, taking another bite of your endless craving—mochi.

“That one time you tried to tickle me, but it backfired so badly, you ended up peeing.” He smirks, your face instantly turns red.

“What?! I didn’t—I didn’t pee!!” you cried. “That’s not—You and I remember that day very differently!”

“Really?” he snickers. “I remember you avoiding me immediately after, can you blame me for thinking so?”

“That’s—I was just embarrassed for being so close to you!! And to make it all worse, you had to say that! Of all things, seriously! Did you actually think I was going to stay around ???” you fret. “I mean… I genuinely thought you were never going to speak to me again after that.”

“You know it would take much more than that for me to stop talking to you.” Naoya says. “Though it’s quite ironic now, isn’t?”

“What is?”

“You tend to do that quite frequently nowadays.”

You blush.

“Only because I’m pregnant, you idiot!!” you frown, smacking him on the arm, Naoya laughs. “Hey, it’s not funny!”

“But it is true, my love.”

“You’re making it sound like I have some severe bladder issues…” you exclaim. “I’m carrying your baby; in case you’ve forgotten!”

“How could I forget I’m having a family with the love of my life?” he says, moving closer to you to take you into his arms, placing his hands over your growing belly.

“Sweet talk isn’t going to save you, Naoya…” you frown, even when angry, your hands still seek his touch.

“Perhaps not, but maybe… chocolate will?”

“…And?”

“And maybe some diapers too—” he jests, you gasp.

“That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch!”

“I’m just kidding, princess!” He laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Nothing but an innocent joke.”

“Won’t be so innocent if I ignore you for real this time!”

“Then I guess you won’t be eating those chocolate I got you from that place you love…”

“… those from… Kyoto?”

Naoya nods.

And just like that, the whole ordeal was forgotten immediately after.

Until he finds out something else to tease you with, because just as they said, whatever you unleash on Naoya, he’ll unleash on you, tenfold.

relentless naoya is relentless. he's a total tease, about time I wrote it. Also, DAMN I think I've never written y/n being totally smitten by him??? like pinning after him?? it's either her towards geto or him towards y/n. lmao

anyways, i'm still in that fluffy domestic mood, and this was the perfect opportunity to show that. akgasgasjiga I mean, it's cute right??? I like it. y/n being spoiled by naoya........ though he's a bit cruel sometimes.... haha. aw, I love them.

Well, I hope you enjoyed this!! Thank you so much for your patience!! 🥺💖 I really did enjoy writing this, as I always do with all the things y'all send me.

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

Edit: omg I never really answered your question, but yesssss I do think he was ticklish. But let's be real, who is going to know that?????? You'd probably come to find that one out when hugging him and sensing him tense up. :) for a variety of reasons. Hehe

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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roguishcat · 2 days

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Honeycomb

Summary: Astarion had a brilliant, fool-proof plan. And nothing, especially not a piece of honeycomb, would get in the way.

A/N: My brain is running on almost no fuel. There probably are mistakes and misspelled words. Kindly tell me if you notice anything. ❤️I would like to make this into something longer in the future, maybe finally try my hand at writing something steamy. Would anyone be interested in reading something like that? Let me know.

Tags: sexy Halsin, annoyed Astarion, some suggestive themes.

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

Oneshot, 1.2k words

Set in the beggining of Act II.

She was doing it again. Staring at that- that huge oaf of a druid as if he was the most fascinating thing ever.

Astarion scowled. The problem wasn’t even that she was attracted to Halsin. Because one would have to be blind or a complete liar to say that the druid was nothing to look at. What annoyed him that the druid could command all Tav’s attention after she had a taste of what Astarion had to offer. Having spent a mind-blowingly amazing night with an earth-shatteringly gorgeous vampire, Tav should not be eye-fucking others around the campsite!

And yet she was. Granted, she was not the only one who could not look away. Even Shadowheart seemed to be enjoying the show, murmuring something to Karlach which had the tiefling nodding and licking her lips.

And how did it start you may ask? Well, it started with a piece of honeycomb.

Tav, being the sweet, caring, lovable fool that she was, worried that Halsin did not feel welcome when he first joined them. They were fast approaching Shadowlands, meaning that they would soon leave behind the lush greenery of the forest in favour of the grim dangerous landscapes of the cursed lands near Moonrise. Although the thought was unsettling for everyone, Tav was worried about how a druid, whose comfort for some reason that Astarion could not possibly fathom mattered to her, would fare being stuck among all the death and destruction.

And what about Astarion, hm? Did she think about him? Oh, no! Because apparently he was not at the top of the list of her priorities. And that was… irksome. And Astarion showed that he was annoyed in the healthiest, most obvious way possible. That is, ignoring Tav and brooding. Which for some reason was not getting quite the reaction that he was hoping for.

But yes, the honeycomb. He did digress.

Tav found a large piece in the afternoon and proudly presented it to Halsin with a radiant smile, who accepted the treat with thanks, his fingers brushing Tav’s as he took it out of her hands. And therein lay the problem.

Halsin’s fingers.

Because apparently no one told him that one was not meant to eat with his hands, especially in such a scandalous way!

Halsin’s hands were sticky with honey, fingers glistening in the light of the fire as he sucked each digit clean like a man starved. Tav was transfixed, blush dusting her cheeks, spoon suspended in midair because she forgot that she was, in fact, eating in favour of the pay-per-view show that she had the front seat to.

Astarion gritted his teeth. Surely the druid could not be that oblivious? Surely he was doing this on purpose? Well, whatever his game was, Astarion could not allow this to continue. Because no matter how dishonorable his intentions for Tav were, he was definitely not done with her. And he would not be done with her at least until she and the merry band that called her leader marched into the city, slaughtered Cazador and defeated all foes that got in the way of their de-tadpoling. Then, and only then, he would think about dismissing Tav. If he so chose.

With that in mind, Astarion grabbed a bucket full of water and marched across the campsite, making his way for Halsin. It was time to put a stop to this.

“There. You might find it easier to clean up this way, hm?” he mocked, thrusting the bucket into Halsin’s hands.

“Thank you, Astarion. How thoughtful of you,” Halsin nodded, confused and not quite understanding what got the vampire so annoyed.

“Anytime,” Astarion huffed, pivoting on his heel, and making his way towards Tav, who finally noticed that the stew dripped off her spoon and onto her lap.

“Tsk, such a messy pup,” he scolded playfully, “why don’t we get you out these dirty clothes and into something more comfortable?” he leaned closer to her ear, letting his breath ghost over the shell.

His breathy invitation was quite lost on her, however, as at this moment Halsin chose to pour the water onto his head.

It was Tav’s squeak and wide eyes that made Astarion snap his head in the druid’s direction, ruby eyes narrowing as he released a growl at the sight that had Tav’s undivided attention.

Rivulets of water running down pectorals, getting caught in the grooves in the skin between the rolling muscles, and then down, down, down-

“Why does that druid never seem to have a shirt on?” Astarion hissed, finally having enough of this, and grabbing Tav’s hand to pull her away and towards his tent.

He could distinctly hear Karlach’s raucous laughter as the tiefling caught on to what got Astarion’s panties in a bunch, followed by amused sounds coming from the other companions. Astarion could not quite bring himself to care because he knew what his priorities were. And right now, it was high time to remind a certain someone what her priorities should be. Namely him and his needs.

Tav almost tripped as he shoved the flap of his tent aside, pulled her in and made sure the cloth slid back into place behind her. He, unlike certain someone, did not need an audience.

“Astarion? What happened? Is everything okay?”

Oh, that poor, oblivious, sweet idiot. If it were anyone else, he would be quite sure that she did all that on purpose, just to get a rise out of him. But not so. The look she was giving him now was genuine. All the more reason to keep this powerful, yet oblivious creature under his thumb.

“Nothing, darling, I am quite well. Just hungry, that’s all,” he purred, advancing on her step by tantalizing step, eyes locked on his prize.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, today has been a lot, I forgot to offer,” she pulled the fabric of her collar aside to bare her beautiful neck to him, the imprints from the bite left after his previous feeding still visible.

Astarion licked his lips and pressed his mouth to her skin, delighting in the shallow gasp that she gave at the contact.

“As alluring as your neck is, my sweet,” he swept his tongue up the column of her neck and lay a tender kiss on the bitemarks, “I hope that there is more, much more on offer tonight.”

As he sank his fangs into Tav and felt her blood flow onto his tongue, Astarion soon found himself grinding against the swell of her ass, the hand that was not holding her in place sneaking to caress her breast. Which was when Astarion had to remind himself that he was doing this just to keep Tav on his side. It was simply a matter of convenience. Nothing more, nothing less. And this was certainly not something that he had to keep reminding himself of more and more as they progressed on their journey.

And yes, perhaps bedding Tav has been quite fun. She was a vision, with her cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kisses parted as she moaned his name sweetly into the night. But that was just a perk. Why shouldn’t he enjoy himself a little, given the opportunity?

Yes, his plan was flawless. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion tav fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #astarion fanfiction #fanfic #baldur's gate fanfiction #fanfiction #roguish cat

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readypanda · 2 days

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Indigo Park Spoilers (and very long post) ahead

Since Indigo Park is the newest fandom I've been dipping into, I figured I might as well make my own analysis for the game. The question I'll be discussing today is,

WHAT EVEN ARE THESE THINGS?

(sry for bad picture quality lol)

The thing I find interesting about these mascots (Molly, Lloyd, and what we've seen of Finley) that kind of sets them apart from other monsters in the mascot horror genre is...they almost seem like they're just animals. (I'll go over evidence for this in this post)

Think about it. In other mascot horror games, we've gotten:

animatronics possessed by dead children

employees/kids surgically(?) turned into toys

people mutated by a giant ink machine

animals/people who have had their DNA spliced with a mutagenic chemical

A little girl somehow turned into a monster (I think??)(really sorry Amanda I don't know what you are)

etc.

(I'm not up to date on all these properties and I know there's many more, so forgive me if my lore understanding is less than adequate. you know how it is with indie horror)

The important note about all these is that for the most part, these mascots are intelligent, or at least have the capability of intelligence. Almost everything on this list was at one point human, in fact.

So why do I think Indigo Park is any different? What leads me to believe they aren't intelligent? (at least, the animal versions of the characters that we run from in the game. Whether they are separate from the versions of the characters Rambley interacts with is something I'll touch on later)

I think the most obvious piece of evidence in regards to Molly and Lloyd (again, not much info on Finley yet) is how Lloyd acts. He doesn't talk at all, he just stalks the main character and attacks like an animal might (with the exception of a couple times he stands on two legs or props himself up here and there).

As for Molly, I hear you saying, "But she talks! We hear her speak!" And yes, dear reader, you are right. Molly does speak. This would disprove my argument of the mascots being purely animalistic, if it weren't for this kill screen.

Now, do we ever actually hear Molly say something that isn't a repetition or couldn't reasonably be a repetition? Has she said anything to prove her intelligence at all? (genuine question here because I haven't examined every one of her voice lines lol. If I'm wrong about this then whoopsie!)

Despite the past 250 words of speculation, though, whether they act just like animals isn't actually that important. We'll see more of them in later chapters anyway (or Lloyd and Finley at least) so that will likely prove or disprove this point with time.

The more interesting question is, what are they? Like, physically?

When Molly dies, we clearly see blood around her decapitated head. At the very least that rules out animatronics or something mechanical. In addition, in the audio of the hidden tape you get when you show Rambley one of the collectables, you can hear two staff members complaining about being replaced by "new mascots" right after they "got a new raccoon costume." This could mean a few different things, but it seems to imply that the mascots we see in this chapter are meant to be replacements for actors in suits (for meet and greets, promotion, shows, etc) and/or replacements for limited, expensive, and cumbersome animatronics. If this is true, we can also probably rule out them being human. Unless Indigo Park also had a secret human experimentation lab, which I wouldn't put past them.

I think it's too early to definitively state what these mascots are, but based on the evidence of above, I have a theory.

My personal theory is that these mascots are just animals who have been changed or mutated in some way to allow the park to have more "realistic" representations of the characters (also probably to cut down on the costs of paying a human employee). That would explain why they act the way they do and why they are so violent. They literally are just wild animals who have been warped to represent these cartoon characters.

Another important caveat to this theory is that, if this is true, then the mascots who attack us in the game are most likely NOT Rambley's "friends" as he knows them. That would explain why he doesn't call attention to Molly chasing us or Molly's dead body (with the exception of one very small reaction when he talks about the mascots). You would expect him to seem a little more upset if he thought that was his friend, but maybe on some level he knows it's not really her, just a representation of her.

That brings up another question, which is a can of worms I won't fully open here: Do Molly, Lloyd, and Finley have sentient "AI" equivalents like Rambley? If not, does Rambley know his friends aren't real? I'll let you decide.

Anyway, that just about closes my thoughts on this silly raccoon game. Thanks for letting me ramble on about it, and thanks for making it to the end of the post!

Lemme know about your own theories in regards to what these things are, or if there's any key evidence I missed. Kinda threw this together lol. Most of it will likely get disproven by future chapters but hey, thus is the price of theorizing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#indigo park #indigo park theory #indigo park spoilers #uniquegeese #mascot horror #I should probably like actually play through the game myself and maybe make an addendum to the post if I find anything new #since you can only get so much info second-hand #maybe ill make a post dump about random details i noticed #it was annoying to find the tape recording #I don't know if anyone has uploaded the full clip by itself to youtube

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liveontelevision · 12 hours

Text

Suffer Pt. 6 | Lucifer x Reader

The first parts! ;) Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 4 / Pt. 5

A single anon request and a 56-page Google doc later, this is the last part, my friends. Thanks to everyone who's been so invested in this, this turned into a bigger project than I thought it would lol But! I'm so glad everyone's been enjoying it, and I hope y'all like the ending! I'm sorry for all the cliffhangers along the way haha (not really)

An extra thank you to the anon who requested a simple babysitter fic and ended up inspiring this whole deal!

♡♡♡

It’s almost been a year since you arrived to the hotel. You arrived when the building was in less than pristine condition, and just a few new guests had arrived. It was a few days after you saw Charlie’s interview on the news, that being what brought you in, despite it’s failure. You were just happy to see her face after all that time. Yet, above the cluttered space and the holes in the walls, there was a more malevolent scheme being hatched.

Any soul who might pass the princess’s room would be bombarded by curses, screams, and growls that sounded less than human. So, most the hotel residents decide it best to avoid that corridor. But not our trusty hotelier. His hand reached for the handle, after deciding that making a bold entrance might not be the best idea. His motion was put to a quick halt by a flurry of curses coming from the other side of the door. Alastor didn’t realize Charlie held such a..colorful vocabulary. Despite that, he went on.

He was greeted with a sight that, unfortunately, wasn’t new to him. An intricate web of red thread connected to pins, all scattered across a once pristine wall. It all connects a collage of images, some that he recognized, some that looked like nonsensical scribbles. The view is obstructed by a furiously pacing princess of Hell. Mumbling completely incoherent complaints, she doesn't notice the opening and closing of her bedroom door.

Alastor, being the sadist he is, props his stance with his microphone, his forced smile unmoving. He enjoys the view for a moment before finally clearing his throat to bring her attention to him. She nearly stumbles over her own feet, ready to scold him for materializing into her room, despite the fact that she was just too out of it to see him walk straight in.

“Al! Good! I need another pair of eyes, come here, come here, look!” She approaches him faster than he expects, and he’s ready to reel away, but is unfortunately hooked around the neck with Charlie’s disturbing strength. With an arm around his shoulders, she drags him forward to examine the wall, as if it made sense to anyone other than her. She starts talking nonsense, again. Something about friendship and Heaven, things he never really cared about. Things he usually tuned out whenever they came up. He only seems to partake in the conversation once he heard your name.

“Alastor.. She’s one of our first guests. I honestly can’t believe anyone showed up after that terrible interview I had earlier, I’m worried i’ll mess things up, again! I mean, all of Hell already thinks i’m a joke.. I just- really need this to go well.” Her mood seems to calm, but to a state of despair. Alastor let’s out a symphahetic awe, patting the top of her head.

“Aw, our poor princess. I understand your concern, my dear, this hotel must mean quite a lot to you.” He faines a sympathy that only convinces Charlie because of her state of disarray.

“Of course it does! And she’s already so kind, I’m sure she’s close to redemption! Maybe this will be a quick one! A-and we don’t even know it, right? That has to be it!” She seems to be reassuring herself, only to be met with an unresponsive radio demon. She groans. Dragging her feet as she walks to the edge of bed, She sits down and lets her head fall into her hands.

“I really need this to work. I’ll do anything for this to work..” It was a quiet mumble, muffled into her palms, but Alastor heard exactly what he wanted to hear. His grin twisted, something Charlie didn’t see, as he sits at her side. He gives her a quick pat to her back, in some form of comfort.

“Charlie, dear, I understand how much this little project means to you.. I do. And I want nothing more than to witness you trying as hard as you can to keep it up.” Even if it fails. Charlie looks up to him, the bags under her eyes suddenly very apparent. “How would you feel about a little deal? Just a small one, no souls on the line, I guarantee.”

She’s been warned by Vaggie in the past. Actually, his entire reputation is enough to make her uneasy by the idea. but…

“I-I don’t know. What did you have in mind..?” She asks reluctantly. He let’s out a chuckle that almost sounds sinister.

“Believe it or not, our little guest and I have a bit of a history.” You can barely call it a history. You served him and Rosie on occasion when you were working in cannibal town. “I’d be delighted to oversee her safety and process to redemption! It’s just as you said, she’s already a gem, Heaven is waiting for her, I can feel it. This will be a breeze for the both of us.” His offer comes off as sincere and touching to Charlie. It wasn’t like him to openly mention his relationships with other demons yet, the idea of you having a close friend throughout this process might just be what you’re missing.

“That’s so sweet of you, Alastor, but.. What do you want from me?” She has to ponder a moment before even considering letting this go on any further.

“Well, you’ve given me a roof over my head and.. A tower for my broadcasts.. Hmm..” He taps his chin, as if he’s in thought. “I’m not quite sure I’ll need from you at the moment, since you’ve just been so hospitable already.” He places a hand to her shoulder, the kind words causing her eyes to well with tears a bit in her weakened state.

“There has to be something.. Well, maybe we can both think this over, once I have a clear head.” She sighs her words, standing from the bedside. Alastor takes her hand and brings her to a halt.

“Oh, but I’d love to get to work as soon as possible, if I may be so bold.. I’m not quite sure what you could offer me in this moment… How about we work out the details, later?” He speaks as if he’s coming up with these words on the spot. He’s had this planned since day one, though. Any chance to get a favor from the princess, he’ll take. Charlie turns to him and sees the strange green glow surrounding their hands. She attempts to pull away, but his grasp is tight.

“Well.. I mean…” She’s still hesitant. He watches her rub her eyes. The still relevant exhaustion gives him a bit of hope.

“It’s simple. I’ll do everything in my power to keep our little guest comfortable and on the path to redemption, no acception. In return, I’ll ask of you one single favor when the time comes.” The glow only continues to swell with his words, and it's clearly making her reconsider. “It’s not as serious as you may think, Charlie. Just a favor between friends, really.” Friendship seemed to strike the right tone.

“I guess.. If it’s for the hotel… Okay, Alastor. It’s a deal.”

Back to the dreaded fight just a few months later. You're seeing red.

“Charlie! You made a deal with Alastor?? What were you thinking?” You’re scolding her at this point. The situation barely had time to cool down before your worries began to kick in. Her horns and ruby eyes are still present, she hasn’t even had time to calm herself from the previous display. Lucifer is essentially holding you back, a hand across your front as you try to approach her. It hurts you a bit. Does he think you’re some kind of danger to her?

..Are you putting her in danger?

Alastor is still propped on the ground. He holds a hand around his neck, in hopes of soothing the aggressive collar that had materialized around it just moments ago. You’re all keeping your distance from eachother.

“I-I wasn’t! I wasn’t thinking! It was after the interview! You saw it, you know didn’t go well! I-I had all of Hell laughing at me, laughing at the hotel- He was offering help, I have no idea why he’s acting this way, I swear..! I.. I-” Charlie’s demonic features start to recede when she feels a hand on her back. With heavy breaths, she looks over to Lucifer, who was standing by her side now, ready to comfort her. With a small hiccup, she falls into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly as she did. Her head fell to his shoulder, thoroughly staining his vest with her tears.

The room is uncomfortably filled with her silent sobs. Your heart aches too much looking at the touching display between father and daughter, and your guilt from snapping at her is making you fidget. That’s when you got to thinking.

The deal was for Alastor watch over you until you got to Heaven. For him to do anything in his power to keep you on the path to redemption. To prevent any behavior that might stunt that process..

“Oh.. oh, my god. You’ve been buttering me up this whole time.” You turn to face a still recovering Alastor. The realization grabs the attention of both Morningstars, they raise their heads to look towards the commotion. “The gifts, all the time we spent together.. Was because of this deal? Did.. did you ever actually care about me?” You grip at your heart, ready to rip it straight from your chest. He stands, brushing debris from his entirety.

“I doubt you’ll believe me after such a display of violence, but.. Yes. I did enjoy our time together, despite the requisite of being under my protection. It was quite entertaining before it was… tainted.” His hisses out his final words, contrasting the sweetness of it all. Tainted?

He was kind to you as soon as you arrived in the hotel. Despite the drama, you’ve been inseparable since. Things only got convoluted after..

“Under your protection..? Is that why you’ve been turning me away from Lucifer?! Fuck- it is! You’ve been playing games with me for months! Getting in my head..! H-How could you..” He hasn’t just been physically keeping the two of you apart. From day one, your mind was manipulated into thinking Lucifer never wanted you.

“Well.. not to defend myself, dear, but I was merely considering your redemption. I believe there’s some sort of sin in worshipping the Devil.” Oh, now he’s just trying to make more trouble.

“Oh, fuck you Al, I don’t worship him, I love him!” Your comical response seems to drive a shocked expression or two towards you. But you’re too upset to elaborate. You want to tear him apart. You want to see him experience as much pain as you’re feeling now. Luckily, you weren’t the only one. In a blur of a movement, Alastor was brought back to the ground with a thud.

A foot to his chest, Charlie has him pinned to the ground. Her fists are clenched, the aura surrounding her creates a suffocating heat.

“You took advantage of me, Alastor. You betrayed my friends, my family.. My trust.” Despite the demonic tones underlying her voice, it still sounds pained. You didn’t know she could do this, but her clenched fists become encased in fire. Just like her fathers’.

You’re surprised to see him lurking behind, but not attacking. After all you’ve seen, you were sure he’d have ripped Alastor’s head off at this point. His eyes widen, a display of fear you werent expecting. You follow his gaze to see Charlie holding a familiar angelic spear to his neck.

You hear an unearthly growl come from her chest, and before you can think, your arm is wrapped around hers. You can feel the resistance, realizing you had stopped her right as she was about to put an end to it all. Put an end to him.

“Charlie! Stop!” You yell out. You have to do it once or twice more, your words not quite reaching her yet. Once she turns to you, her eyes are still dripping with tears. “Charlie, don’t. This isn’t you. You’ll regret it, I know you will.. I know you.” You’re begging her to stop. As you feel the muscles in her arm start to relax, you reach for the spear and pull it gently from her hands. She releases her grasp without a fight.

You usher her off, glancing back to Alastor for a moment to see his wound had reopened from that. He had an obvious slash across his neck. You gulped, realizing how close she was to actually killing him. She places her hand over yours, where your arms are still linked.

Charlie let’s out a sigh, looking to her shaking hands, then clenching her fists. She looks to you, then back to Alastor.

“But.. everything he’s done to you… It’s not right, I’m not sure I can forgive him..” She’s speaking quietly to you.

“Well.. You don’t have to forgive him. But he doesn't deserve to die, Charlie.” You state the obvious and it makes her flinch. “And.. you should let him stay.” You hear a collective What? from the room.

“I know I know.. but… this whole place is about second chances. I.. think he can change. And even though, he is being such a dick right now-” Your voice is cracking, as if you can hardly believe your own words. “-I still believe it. You taught me that.” You smile up to Charlie. After a moment you turn your head to Lucifer, meeting his eyes. He looks more in shock than anyone, almost hurt by your act of mercy. You’re surprised by his expression, not realizing Charlie had slipped from your side to approach Alastor.

“She’s right, you know. I can’t forgive you, Alastor. Not yet, at least.. But you’re welcome to stay here, considering all the help you’ve done for the hotel.” She sounds stern, still not entirely convinced this is the right call.

“Yeah, some help you’ve been, you prick..” Those are the first words Lucifer has muttered in awhile. You approach his side to jab him with your elbow and shush him. Despite your scolding action, your presence only reminds him of your previous confession. He crosses his arms and continues to curse quietly, despite his flushed cheeks. Charlie steps closer to Alastor.

“You’re still here, because of her.” Charlie’s voice goes dark as she gestures to you. “That favor I owe you? Is letting you live. This deal is done, Alastor.” She hisses her words out. The intensity and anger radiating from two of the most powerful creatures in Hell is enough to leave even Alastor a bit weary. He nods, still gripping his wound that has been repeatedly opened these past few days. Other than that, he slinks away with barely a scratch. Lucky him.

Once he’s out of sight, Charlie let’s out a groan and falls to her knees. With a unison call of her name both you and Lucifer rush to her side. You place a hand on her back, attempting to keep any displaced hair from her face. She leans into Lucifer’s chest, a heartaching sight of sniffles and apologies.

Before long, she seemed to exhaust herself. Curled up to his chest, Lucifer smiles, despite the circumstances of their closeness. He lifts his eyes just slightly to see yours. You look embarrassed. Before he has a chance to question you, you rise from the ground.

“You should take her to bed.” You say in a hushed tone, gripping your arms and making some distance. “She needs some rest after.. all that.”

“Sure, but.. are you-” He speaks just as softly, opening a portal behind him silently.

“I’m fine. I’m-” You let out a sigh, beginning to move towards the stairs. “She needs to rest, Lucifer.” You remind him.

“Oh- Oh.. Right, yeah.” He rises to his feet, effortlessly lifting Charlie into his arms and stepping through the portal. You try to keep moving. You try to not meet his eyes as the portal shuts, but you find yourself unable to go on. Once they’re gone, you cover your mouth, only making your labored breaths worse, but you’re desperate to muffle any cries. You feel yourself wobble in place, before seeing a portal open to your side. It leads to your room.

After stepping through, you silently approach your bed. Your legs suddenly turn led, and you're hitting your bed with a gasp. Your exhaustion is enough to keep your sobs to a minimum at least.

The feeling you have when you wake up is worse than any hangover you’ve had. With alcohol you can at least forget your troubles. But on this morning, you can vividly remember the previous night. You sit up, your body aching. You only wonder why for a moment, before realizing you had fallen asleep sideways across your bed, your legs still dangling off the side. You still need sleep.

You remove any uncomfortable clothing or accessories that had pressed marks into your body and return to bed. The right way, this time. Your pillows feel like heaven after all that’s happened. Heaven..

You try your best to sleep, you really do. Your body is essentially begging you to empty your thoughts just for a few more minutes. But your mind is sending you tossing and turning, any times you close your eyes, all you can imagine is everything you've done wrong. Your eyes drift open after trying to force them shut, and your eyes spot the radio on your nightstand. You sit silently for a moment, maybe try to close your eyes again..

Nope.

Before you have a chance to process every movement, you’re opening your door and thoughtlessly throwing the radio outside. You don’t care where it ends up, clearly. You were waiting to hear it break, into multiple pieces hopefully, before shutting your door. You’re met with a startled groan instead. Taking a moment to process that you had thrown an old-timey radio at someone, you stand at your door with a yawn.

The panic hits you. It could’ve been Alastor, assuming he stayed. It could’ve been Charlie, who doesn’t need any more conflict. You could’ve taken out Niffty as far as you know. Swinging the door open, your eyes see the radio first. They’re wrapped in your victim’s arms.

“Good catch.” You let out hoarsly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to clearly see Lucifer.. It could've been worse. He let’s out a breathless thanks, clearly having the air knocked out of him. You definitely didn’t hold back with that throw. And it wasn’t exactly a lightweight radio.

“Er.. Sorry. I meant to say sorry.” You try to recover, your words are followed by another yawn. You watch him drop the radio into a small portal he conjured below his grip.

“Good morning to you, too. I was, uh.. about to check on charlie, but-” He’s ready for a conversation that you aren’t. You quickly shake your head, pulling your door in.

“Nono, I need some time.. To wake up. I’ll see you around, though.” You didn’t expect him to perk up from his words, but he does. His smile is infectious. You watch him give you a little wave before shutting your door. You lean against it, your smile that you had been presenting to him, leaves you almost immediately.

There’s so much on your mind. You scan your room, memories of Alastor popping up no matter where you looked. Every chat you’ve had in here, every moment you’d call him in for advice for clothes or accessories, all the nights you’d fall asleep listening to his voice. Your eyes stopped at your vanity seat. Draped across the back is a bittersweet sight, your gifted red sweater. You finally rise to your feet, quickly reaching for it and holding it tightly in your hands. You hesitate before bringing it to your nose. You’re not sure why. Why would you want to remind yourself of anything involving him? Did you think that same scent that’s brought you comfort so many times would have the same affect? You give it a shot.

Hesitantly breathing in, you’re immediately reeling back, throwing the sweater down to your ground. Your hand covers your nose, that sickenlingly sweet honey scent now smells like rotten flesh. Like road kill. You need some air. Digging out a different sweater, one you haven’t had to use in months, you decide you just need to walk around for a bit. The hotel was big enough that you could safely avoid any unwanted attention. Plus, you were sure Alastor’s pride was too wounded to freely roam the hotel. And his other wound.. You hope he’s okay.

You groan out loud, mentally cursing yourself for your sympathetic thoughts. You make your way down to the lobby, and are met with a surprisingly clean lounge. You scan the walls that were previously cracked, the carpets that should be stained with blood, then wonder where Vaggie’s suddenly conjured spear might have gone. What would have possessed Charlie to choose such a weapon.. an angelic spear? She didnt really want him dead, did she? She's emotional. And extreme. Like her father. You decide not to question it any further. It’s not like you were upset by the erasure of the previous night's events.

A day or two passed. Your mind seemed unwilling to accept the reality you're currently in. You're anxious, and paranoid to any sentence thrown your way. You're constantly looking around corners, checking all parts if your room before locking it for the night. Yet, if someone were to ask what was making you so nervous, you wouldn’t have an answer.

You found yourself taking those little strolls often, though. Keeping your body in motion, with only the sounds of your breathing keeping you company, seemed to clear your mind. It never helped come to terms with any seething pain you felt, but it cleared your mind at the least.

You'd pieced together a few things in the meantime. After passing the bar, where Angel and Husk were chatting, they would smile and wave, ask you join them form a drink, but you’d decline. Neither of them seemed to know about anything. Maybe Niffty cleaned the mess. Maybe Alastor asked her to. Before anyone could see the outcome of his mistakes.

You passed Vaggie in a hall, and she immediately looked concerned. She opened her mouth, an Are you okay? sits on the tip of her tongue. But then she looked at you. Your body only mirrored the fog of your mind, baggy eyed and wrapped in some blanket as you roamed the halls like a damned ghost.

“Hey, um- it's.. it's gonna be-" you held your hand up to her.

“I know. Thank you.” You smile, the action stiff, considering you hadn't used those muscles in awhile. Vaggie knew. That was fair, though. You were glad Charlie had someone to confide with. You walked on after she gave a hesitant goodbye wave.

One night, when your body had taken over and you were wandering aimlessly, you realized where you ended up. Not only were you standing in front of Lucifer's workshop, he had already spotted you through the window on the door. He opened it before you could fully take in your surroundings.

“Hey..” You let out softly. What else are you supposed to say? You didn’t come prepared. You feel embarrassed standing in front of him, realizing how much of a mess you must look. You're not even sure what part of your mind made you end up here.

He doesn't respond at first, another speechless moment letting your mind wander. He opens the door more, offering his space to you. You look at him and he smiles before you shuffle inside. You take in the sight. You haven't actually seen it, considering your circumstances after the hotel was renovated.

“It looks nice in here.” You say quietly, your voice cracking just a bit. You walk through, tracing your fingers along desks and tables, stopping and looking at family photos on occasion. You looked to Lucifer’s smiling face in a picture where he was lovingly holding his wife and daughter. How did you end up like this?

“Oh- um.. thank you, it's more than enough space for me, but, uh.. it's nice.” His voice sounds unfamiliar as it snaps you from your mindset. He moves to his main bench, which is slightly elevated by a platform that connects to the windowed wall. You eventually make your way around, standing near him.

“Are.. you… How are you..?” You listen to him struggle to form such a simple question, and yet you have an equally hard time trying to respond. Obviously, you were crushed. devastated by the betrayal and overwhelmed by everything else.

“I'm okay.” You reply thoughtlessly. It was your go-to answer. You hear a muffled chuckle and look over to him. He's blocking the laughter with his fist in front of his lips. Is he laughing at you?

“Sorry sorry, I just.. know that you're lying. You've done this before, don't forget how much time I've actually spent with you.” You want to scold him for acting so bold, for saying he knows you better than yourself, but..

You're leaning against the table in one moment, and before you know it, you're hoisted to sit on its top. You felt like a relief you didn't realize. Your feet were aching. How long were you walking the in the halls today? The sensation of his hands planted on your waist. to steadily bring you to the counter, lingered after he had removed them.

“I used to see you wandering around back home- at the mansion, I mean. usually after a tough day. But it's been a few days, so I just thought you might be-”

“Why are you so calm?” Your sudden question made him visibly finch. "You were tricked, too, you know. He tore us apart. How can you be handling this so well?” Your voice starts to turn agitated. You weren't sure why you were taking it out on himm, but you both knew in the moment that this was the first time you’ve let any emotion out since the fight.

“It's like some.. malevolent force is constantly tearing us apart. One moment I'm happy, I'm in love, I'm smiling- then the next, you're just gone. and everything else that keeps me sane goes with it.” You feel a flood of tears beginning to well. Tears that you should've been letting out days ago. “Is this some kind of fucking curse? Why can’t things just be easy..? A-Are we just doomed?” You're wiping your face clear, your words becoming sloppy and hoarse.

“Maybe.” Your head lifts to see him, still calm as before, but with a solemn look on his face. “But, we keep finding eachother, right? And all the good times.. they'll stay good, won’t they?” You nod your head reluctantly.

He approaches you, with a hand on your shoulder, he's wiping away tears with the other.

“Honestly? I'm not handling this well at all. You're right, the universe has done nothing but tear us apart and hurt both of us. And I’m just about ready to tear Alastor limb by limb. I want Charlie to be okay.. I want to keep you by my side and never let you out of my sight this time.” You see his emotions range throughout his words, his eyes flashing red for a moment. He calms himself down, running his hand down your arm to hold your hand. You don't resist.

“But, you made some good points back there. And I just thought.. if you're strong enough to let that prick live, after everything, then.. Maybe I-I.. I'm trying to be strong.” He sounds almost embarrassed to admit it, and the comment on your strength leaves you a bit red in the cheeks. “You've always been so strong, darling. I just wish you'd tell me how you're really feeling.. I miss talking to you. Not this.. empty shell.” His words stung and he knew it as soon as they slipped from his lips.

“W-wait, no, I mean..”

“It’s fine, you're not wrong.. Jerk.” You share a little laugh with him, the mood lightening for just a moment. “Lucifer, I'm.. I'm so tired.” You let out weakly. That barely scratches the surface of everything. It's as if your mind was boiling over, with all the thoughts of Alastor turning sour, and the thoughts of redemption suddenly in question, not to mention all those feelings of Lucifer that were repressed until just recently. You want Charlie to be okay. You want things to be normal, but.. you're not quite sure what normal looks like. You wish you could say all this to him.. it’s hard to put it to words. But you're trying. He makes you want to try harder.

You feel a gentle hand holding your cheek, bringing your blurred thoughts to clarity and meeting eyes that left you breathless. When was the last time you've looked in his eyes? A blush forms across his cheeks, your gaze seems to fluster him. He clears his throat, getting his mind back.

“You're not okay. But.. You will be. I promise.” With a wry smile, you let the weight of your head fall into his palm.

Your eyes meet. He leans in and you feel his arms snake around yout waist. Looking back, you're almost embarrassed by the way you leaned towards him, eyes shut, head tilted, your lips just slightly parted. You were startled by the feeling of his head resting on your shoulder. He only pulls you closer after he feels your breath start to deepen, his hands gentle across your back. You finally return his touch, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and gripping tightly at his shirt.

It used to feel like, if you let go, you'll never hold him again. God, how the possibility scares you. But.. it feels a little different this time. You weren’t worried about him disappearing, this time.

You’re so comforted by his presence, you let yourself fully relax to him. You open your eyes just slightly, blinking out some tears that still remained, thoroughly ruining his top. You pull away, meeting his eyes again.

You feel as if you were close to forgetting this side of him, but you recognize this face. You saw it the night you first kissed him. You saw it after seeing him at the hotel for the first time, then when he decided to sweep you off your feet for a little date. You saw it after every little date that followed. You realize he's never stopped looking at you this way.

“I love you, too.”

I had to put that worship the devil in there it just made me laugh so sorry if that seemed out of place lol

And not to fear my friends,

I plan on making a little epilogue about how everyone's recovering, and some sweet, yummy, fluffy goodness to top it off.

Again, Thank you all so much for your support! :)

I'll be working on some requests next, and some more vamp Luci! Kind of in love with that guy ngl

Taglist! (good lord I hope I got everybody )

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness

@misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest / @wendigonamecaller / @chirimeimei / @sapphireravensworld / @sillywormtrixareforkids

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel fan fiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you

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