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#idk how people manage to read my fics

httpiastri · 9 months

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as happy as i am for lissie and marcus (even though I knew they were already together because I literally watched them make out with my own two eyes) it was honestly my last straw. I’m so tired of seeing everybody on my social feeds happy and in relationships when I’ve just had the worst week of my life and have basically given up on falling in love because if I can’t even drive how am I going to go to places where I’ll meet people?!?!? i have spent every Valentine’s Day alone while my friends go on elaborate dates and I’m just so so tired

not the make out sesh 😩 oh to see them with my own two eyes irl... what a pretty sight it would be

this got quite personal and hit a little too close to home so im putting a lil keep reading thing

love :(( i’m truly sorry you feel this way... but god i felt this ask so much... first of all, i'm really sorry about you having a bad week. it's completely fine to feel the way you're feeling, it must really suck, but i'm sure you'll get the license and you'll be driving shortly!! i am keeping my fingers crossed for you ❤️

i’ve always been very calm about relationships and love, very much “i’m not in a rush” and “it’ll come when it’s time”. i’ve always been a hopeless romantic but i haven’t been stressed about it – i’ve always been so busy that i haven’t really had time for love, and i've been okay with hearing about friends and their great love lives while i've spent pretty much every weekend and holiday alone at home. but… eventually, it becomes exhausting, you know? when falling in love for real just seems so far away and like something so hard to achieve in some way....

i also kind of feel you on the driving part... i decided not to get my license for a bunch of reasons, and idk how i'll get around without driving... but also as i am still living with my parents, it just seems impossible to meet someone, because where would i bring them? home to meet my snooping parents?? no way

i think we just gotta hold on to the hope that when it is the right time, it will happen. i don't believe in the whole "don't rush it" thing, i think that we're all allowed to seek and chase love if we want to, but i also think it's okay to take a step back and just breathe and be okay with the situation. unfortunately, our current day society is so formed around relationships, soft launches and hard launches and dinner date pics on insta and public proposal videos, that i feel like the pressure easily gets overwhelming. there's also something in the way that people think other people's love lives is any of their business, like friends and relatives asking me why i don't have a boyfriend, as if a partner is something i need to live my life? surely it would make it better, but i don't need to be reminded and hurt yet again over the fact that i'm alone, when i'm just trying to move on in life...

i'm trying to stay patient, open to any opportunity, and remembering that social media is merely a highlight reel and not reality. i hope you too can find peace in remembering that things will get better, we just have to work through this first. we will get through it and come out stronger on the other side. darling, if you ever need something from me, want to rant, or anything else, know that my messages and inbox are always open 💗

#ive really liked seeing drivers and their partners recently #but i think that in some way it's just like a coping mechanism to cope with the fact that im so very alone #i think it originates in the wish of being one of them even though i do feel very realistic and dont actually believe that it could happen #but i mean honestly #if we werent even the tiniest bit delusional #would we be here writing and reading the self insert fics??#like sure i dont do it just for that reason #i love writing and i love fiction no matter what kind and blah blah #but we could've all been reading random scifi or romance fics instead and yet so many people get stuck on celebs x reader #housing is really expensive in my city so not a lot of people move out early (like pretty much none of my friends have moved out)#and i just dont get how they manage to have partners and still live at home? are their parents not crazy like mine??#i am supposed to be moving out soon though but rn idk how that would change my situation #still have to deal with social anxiety and shit #this ask hurt so much #ive been hitting a pretty rough patch recently aswell and im kind of thinking that i need to break down fully to be able to build myself up #but its so goddamn scary #idk why im oversharing and ranting so much shfkdjf i apologize #i really hope you find happiness and a great love #i truly admire you for working through this despite how hard it all is #why does it all have to be so exhausting?#asks!

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earthtooz · 11 months

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x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question.

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?”

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos.

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning.

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?”

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in.

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches.

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence.

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you.

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart.

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.”

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you.

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him.

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him.

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them.

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

#sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

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oh-katsuki · 10 months

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the notebook theory (tsukishima kei x reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Summary: Kei has a cynical and jaded outlook on love. When his friend Tadashi figures out that Kei has feelings for you, Kei isn’t sure how to react. After all, love is not something he does but rather, something that happens to him.

"There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

He thinks that might be what’s happening to him. A molecular change, imperceivable to someone not looking at him under a microscope. It’s like his DNA is being rewritten and stitched together with bright pink yarn. He feels himself steadily come apart and come together. It’s uncomfortable, like trying to dream when he has a fever. Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason."

Content Warnings: fem!reader (gender neutral pronouns), no real manga spoilers, slow burn, one-sided pining, angst, mentions of divorce and broken homes, toxic relationship (kei's parents), smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pinching, mentions of mark making, overstimulation (m!receiving), multiple orgasms, hair-pulling

Word Count: 24.8k

A/N: i know i spent forever working on this but it's finally done and while i have a lot of thoughts about it, idk rly what to say. anyway, here's my first attempt at a tsukishima long fic. also i already know that im not beating the tsukkiyama allegations, okay? i tried and failed to beat them okay i just think there is no way to put them in a situation without it being a little homoerotic bc.. they r them okay? anyway, i hope u enjoy and would love to hear ur thoughts <3

The morning comes without warning. Kei thinks he’s read that somewhere, though he’s just sure just where he saw it. He also thinks that whoever said that is right. Morning is always a harsh assault and never as gentle as people describe it to be.

Kei’s room, the one he rents at university, faces toward the east. In the mornings, when the sun peeks over the horizon, it shines directly into his room and onto his bed before creeping across the light wood floors. His blinds, as useful as they are, always let some through the cracks and the light cuts the ground like butter to a knife. Kei doesn’t think it feels half as romantic as it sounds.

The light works better than his alarm. No matter how set he is on sleeping in, he never fails to wake up as soon as those slats of light make their way across his bedspread. It wakes him like fever and he’s never quite as comfortable as he felt falling asleep. This morning is no different.

He rises like he always has, running a hand over his blonde hair and dragging it down his face after sitting up. Then, he stands once in an attempt to gather his bearings before sitting right back down on the edge of the bed. He fights the lingering remnants of sleep, feeling the ray of sunlight beat down on his back. Then, he reaches towards his glasses on the nightstand and slides them up the bridge of his long nose before standing up again once and for all.

Yamaguchi lives in the other room. His best friend since high school, perhaps his only real friend. They’d miraculously attended the same college and decided to room together, though his other friends from his youth aren’t too far. The arrangement managed to make it all the way until their fourth and final year. Living with each other has become par for the course.

Tadashi wakes up later than Kei does on most days, except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. On those days, he has an 8 am and is usually in the kitchen before Kei has even stood up for the first time. Today is a Wednesday, so Yamaguchi is asleep in his room. The morning light doesn’t wake him the same way it does Kei. His room faces west, so it isn’t until the mid-afternoon, when Tadashi is chased from his room by the afternoon rays and heat, that he notices the sun on its blinding conquest across the sky.

Kei’s room is clean and neat. There’s no clutter, no collection of items that don’t have a proper place. Everything is itemized and stored exactly where he intends for them to be. His floor is void of stray clothes, of socks he’d discarded the night before, his nightstand is bare and his desk is surprisingly empty save for one notebook sitting in its center. It’s a room that he could leave at any time, despite living here for nearly two years. If Kei chose to do so, he could pack his things and be gone in a day.

Yamaguchi’s room is different. It’s lived in and well worn. There’s clutter on the floor, socks and pants he’d taken and tossed away to be dealt with later. Certain things don’t have a place and end up living on semi-crowded surfaces filled with things he likes to put down as quickly as he’d picked them up. Kei envies that way of living. A non-temporary way. He envies the rug in Yamaguchi’s room and the way he fills the space with himself. Kei thinks that even after they’re long gone, future tenants would still be able to feel Tadashi’s presence.

To say that Kei is cynical would be accurate. He tends to lean more towards paranoia in his own strange way. He keeps things in order to quell the anxiety in it. Things stay where they are meant to be. As a result, he’s earned himself somewhat of an uptight attitude that makes Kei feel more awkward than relaxed even when he’s in his own spaces. Not that he minds it.

Tadashi’s dish from last night is sitting next to the sink. Kei moves around it as he fixes a tea, making an effort not to drag his feet across the floor because he hates the scuffing sound. Every now and then, the glass of his mug will clink against the cheap kitchen tile and Kei will cringe in some paranoid worry that it will wake his friend.

As he gathers his things to leave the quiet apartment, Kei wonders where his cynicism comes from. He’s sure he could pinpoint it if he tried. His parents divorce, his previous experiences with dating that have left him jaded, the holes that wore even in his most sturdy of sweaters. Inconsequential nothings that piled up until Kei had developed an undeniably cautious outlook on the world. To him, all of these things are the same. Like the morning, they’re intrusive and unsightly, but none is less important than the other.

Kei does have things he likes. Art, for one. He likes paintings, sculptures, little pieces of history, and all of the things people make with their hands that he could never do. Kei is hopeless at crafts. His fingers are lithe and long, but they’re clumsy and hard to control. Despite his need for order, Kei has trouble controlling his urges. The subtle twitches of his fingers always mess up whatever it is he’s trying to craft.

He likes writing best of all, specifically curatorial writing. It’s easy for him to pick which pieces belong together and how to organize them in a space, it suits his talent for compartmentalizing. Kei gets to tell a story that way, be it historical or artistic, sometimes both. The essays that his classmates find tedious, he finds relaxing despite the stress. For him, writing about art and history is a pleasure much like sipping tea that is the perfect temperature, unintrusive and natural.

By the time he arrives at the library, it’s nearly 9 am. He works better here, in the quiet section at a table hidden by three tall shelves of books. It’s almost never occupied and there are hardly ever people seated in the immediate area. Kei doesn’t go out of his way to avoid others, but he finds that if he doesn’t approach people, they often won’t approach him. He prefers things this way, it makes the good and bad people easier to weed out.

From this spot in the library, Kei can see where you usually set up shop for the day. You arrive after him by about 45 minutes and he convinces himself that it is always coincidental.

Strictly speaking, you’re Tadashi’s friend, not his. You’ve known each other for a little under a year and have been by the apartment a few times, but yours and his conversations are limited entirely to pleasantries. How are you? What are you working on? We’re graduating soon, huh? Casual conversation that Kei can weasel his way out of at any time. Like his room, it’s impermanent.

Kei has had the idea that nothing stays stuck in his head since middle school. The house he lived in when his parents were together, weekdays with his mother and weekends with his father, graduating seniors, the apartment he lives in now. To Kei, all of it is so temporary that he finds it difficult to get attached to it, not that he’s devoid of emotion. He quite loves the little things he has, but his grip on them is loose and half-hearted. Whatever leaves, Kei thinks is meant to leave, so he makes no effort to hold on.

It’s probably unfair to think of you that way, but Kei can’t really help it. He can’t change what he is. Besides, it’s not as if he doesn’t have a reason to think so. He’s often approached by people for his looks, people who want to get close because they think he’s tall and handsome, people who collect others like trophies. He’s not heartless, so he’s been hurt more than a few times. Kei thinks he owes it to himself to be cautious, not that you’ve done anything to earn that type of subtle hostility.

“Thought you might be here,” someone’s hand lands on his shoulder.

“Shit,” he groans, “is it that late already?”

Kei glances down at the watch on his wrist, reading the time as just past 10:45 am. He’s been here for an hour and 45 minutes and hasn’t gotten anything done. Tadashi pulls the chair next to him out and sits down, resting his chin on his hand.

“Spacing out?”

“A little,” Kei responds, tapping his pen against the table and turning back toward his book.

“Got something due?”

“Yeah, on Friday,” he exhales. “Haven’t started it yet though. You?”

“Nah,” Tadashi smiles. “I’m just chasing you around.”

“You’re like a girl with a crush.”

Tadashi shrugs and lets out a good natured laugh. It’s a little too loud for this part of the library, but Kei lets it slide, smiling with his friend.

Tadashi is the opposite of him, he thinks. He smiles often and says exactly what’s on his mind when it crosses it, even if it's a little mean. Tadashi used to be a follower, but in his final year of high school and university years, grew into someone befitting of his somewhat sunny and sarcastic personality. Thoughts and words come easily to him and he has no trouble vocalizing his joy or his disappointment.

Yamaguchi has freckles covering the entirety of his body. Kei knows this because he’s seen far more of Tadashi than he thinks he should have. His skin is tawny and warm like him. Kei finds himself looking at the ones on his hands as Yamaguchi begins to write in his notebook. Kei can’t read his handwriting because it’s terrible and he doesn’t much feel like working on his own project, so he watches his friend’s hand mark the page. Then, his gaze slinks across the library to you.

You’ve got your head down and look like you’re falling asleep despite it only being 11 in the morning. Your hand moves lazily across your computer keypad. By the time Kei realizes that you’ve spotted him staring, it’s too late to look away. His gaze was too intentional, so he smiles at you instead, nodding his head a little.

You smile and wave, standing from where you sit and collecting your things. They fill up your arms because you don’t bother to put them in your bag, making your way clumsily across the room and setting your stuff down across from him.

“Hi, Tsukishima,” you smile. “Hi, Tadashi.”

You use his friend’s given name and Kei feels a pang of jealousy hit his chest.

“How long have you been here? I didn’t see you,” you ask, settling into the seat across from Kei.

“I just got here,” Tadashi smiles, looking up from his notes. “He’s been here for a while though.”

Tadashi motions towards him.

“Aw, why didn’t you say hi?”

“You seemed busy,” Kei lies.

You pout, filling your mouth with air. “Next time just come say hi, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” Kei nods.

Tadashi tosses him a sideways glance and Kei shrugs it off. He’s not interested in being teased this morning, though when is he ever.

Kei doesn’t like the way you make him feel. When you’re around, he becomes prickly. It sets Kei on edge in a way that he hates. His world, previously so rigid and organized, quickly begins to feel cluttered and structureless.

You make his heart pound. You make it hammer against his chest so hard that he can feel it in his ears and behind his eyes. It goes all the way down to his already-hard-to-control fingertips and the tops of his thighs. A previously pastel colored world goes vibrantly candy-colored like it’s been plunged in saturating liquid. He nevers knows how to hold himself, never knows how to act natural. What does it mean to act natural, anyway? How should he rest his hands on the desk? Would it be weird to lace them together? Does he look as stiff as he feels? It’s entirely possible that he is suffering a massive heart attack.

You whisper across the table to Tadashi, leaning forward and laughing at something he’s written in his notebook. You can read his handwriting, something Kei is equally jealous about as he is angry. Kei just watches your conversation, unable to really listen into it on account of the stroke that he thinks he’s having.

The three of you stay like this for a while, earning the occasional irritated whisper or dirty look from some of the more studious people in the library. Kei pretends to ignore them, remaining quiet throughout the duration of your study session with Tadashi. His quiet corner is invaded and painted bright pink with your presence and he doesn’t know whether to feel giddy or irrationally angry. Maybe it’s both.

“Crap, is that the time?” Tadashi exclaims, hunching over himself when someone nearby shushes him. “I’ve got class across campus in 10 minutes.”

He hurriedly collects his things. Tadashi does it so fast, in fact, that Kei hardly has time to beg him not to leave him alone with you. So he just watches as Tadashi throws his things clumsily into his bag and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Bye, ___,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I’ll see you at home, Kei!”

“Sure,” is all that Kei can muster. His voice cracks when he says it and he immediately avoids looking at you and stares at nothing in particular in his textbook.

It’s quiet for a while. Kei pretends to busy himself by glancing between his textbook and his computer and you sit with your head bowed as you take notes on a lecture you’re listening to through the single earbud in your right ear. Then, you tap the end of your pen lightly on Kei’s notebook to get his attention.

It’s only been about 10 minutes since Tadashi left, but the library now feels like an entirely different place. His heart pounds as he struggles to keep a straight face.

When he looks up, you’re looking at him with a tilted head. Your expression is soft and unintrusive, friendly but a bit guarded. You smile softly at him.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You ask gently. It doesn’t sound accusatory, but rather a casual statement tinged with friendliness.

“Huh?” Blood rushes into his ears.

“I just kinda get the impression that you’re uncomfortable around me,” you say. “Am I wrong?”

“Uh, no- it’s not that I don’t like you.”

He’s quick to correct you and he feels heat rush to his cheeks.

“Then what?” you question lightly. There’s no ulterior motive behind your smile, Kei can tell, but your openness makes him uneasy.

“I dunno,” he calms himself a little. “I don’t really know how to act around you, I guess.”

You laugh, leaning back into your chair. “Is that all?”

“Well, yeah…” he feels awkward and his palms are sweaty. He drops them below the table to wipe them. “You’re Tadashi’s friend and I’m pretty different from him so I just…” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“I was worried you hated me,” you smile, chuckling to yourself.

“That’s definitely not it,” he loosens a little, smiling lightly despite the thudding of his heart. It slows down steadily.

“I’m your friend too, ya know?”

“That so?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrug and lean all the way back, crossing your arms. “I just kinda figured that we would be.”

“Friends?” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His word placement is awkward.

“Duh,” you laugh a little. “You know, you don’t have to speak formally with me.”

“That’s just the way I am,” he huffs at being read.

“Well, you can drop them with me. I don’t mind.”

“Tall order,” he snorts.

You tilt your head to the side. “Did you just make a joke?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Funny,” you smile. “What are you studying?”

“It’s not really studying…” he says, glancing down at the near empty document. “I’m supposed to be writing an essay I have due on Friday. Not going well.”

He looks up at you through his lashes. You’re leaning forward across the table now, your chin angled upward as you try and peek at what’s on his screen. He turns it so that you can see better.

“Baroque art?” You read aloud. “Oh yeah, Tadashi mentioned that you’re an art history major. Do you draw too?”

“No,” he scoffs. “I’m hopeless at it, but I like art. It’s nice to look at.”

“Huh, you look like you’d be good at drawing,” you say.

“What’s that mean?”

“I dunno, like a manga author or something,” you shrug. “You’ve got nice hands too. Like an artist.”

“Manga?” He laughs a little, trying to play off the color he feels rushing to his face from the compliment.

“Yeah, you look like the manga type.”

“Is it the glasses?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you laugh.

Kei looks down at his hands. They’re big, like the rest of him, and his knuckles are thin. He’s hyper-aware of them now that you’ve complimented them. He studies them briefly, following the barely visible veins up the back of them, following the line of his fingers to his nails. They’re trimmed and somewhat well kept, save for the spots that he tends to bite at when he lays in bed at night. His hands look nothing like Tadashi’s. Tadashi’s fingers are thick and his nails are short on account of him biting them. Kei wonders if you prefer them to his.

—

There’s a notebook that Kei likes on his desk. It’s only a bit bigger than his fist—a little thing, really—and it’s completely blank. Kei’s never written anything down in it, nothing has ever really been worth sullying the thing. It’s got brown fabric binding and a semi-thick cover. It’s malleable, but not so flimsy that he’d need a desk to write in it.

Kei’s not too sure why he bought it in the first place. Maybe he liked the size of it, small enough to fit in his pocket, but not so small as to be ridiculous. It’s practical, much like he is. He’s considered turning it into a daily planner and putting to-do lists in it, but Kei isn’t much of a list guy, it’s Tadashi that likes making lists. Nothing has ever really felt like it suits the book. He’s considered journaling in it, but his life is one big routine and he doesn’t think there’s anything worth writing about.

No matter what he does, nothing is good enough to put a permanent mark into the thing. Even if he used a pencil, Kei feels like the evidence of the mark would still be there even after erasing it, a molecular change that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Kei calls it the notebook theory.

Kei is nearly certain that you’re the reason, not that he’s about to admit to anyone else that he likes you. Tadashi managed to weasel it out of him, though he didn’t really have to ask. In fact, it was less of an admittance to Kei than it was confirmation of his own feelings. If Tadashi can tell that he likes you, then he must.

People seem to know things about Kei before he even knows them himself. At least, that’s how it seems. He’s always confronted with his own feelings by other people, not that they’re really ever wrong, but it seems everyone catches onto what he’s feeling rather quickly. He’s not too sure why that is, maybe he’s just obvious and hasn’t realized it.

Come to think of it, when Tadashi had confronted Kei about his feelings for you, he’d been deeply annoying about it. Kei couldn’t even try to deny it because Tadashi had come out with his guns blazing, cornering him in the living room and throwing facts about you at him until his face was beet red with embarrassment. Then, with a serious frown on his face, he’d simply stated you like them and that was the end of it. Kei couldn’t even deny it. Even he knew that it read plainly in his expression.

To be frank, it sucks being told in plain speech how he feels about someone. Whenever that happens, it makes Kei feel like he’ll never be able to keep another secret in his life. Sometimes, he wishes that he was able to make the decision to tell someone else on his own, but even Kei knows that that is a little beyond him. Kei can think the feelings just fine, but when it comes to speaking them aloud, he seems to have a padlock around his throat.

Tadashi knows this about him and if it weren’t for him, Kei would have agonized far longer and far worse over certain situations of emotional turmoil. Most of the time, Tadashi gets it without needing to ask or say anything. It’s nice to have someone understand him in that way, even if it does mean he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

Feelings lately make Kei a little angry. He’s always known that he’s had somewhat of a sour personality. Kei doesn’t need to be told that he’s smug to know that he is. He’s snarky and usually touchy, picky about the people that he hangs out with. It’s not really a secret that Kei is a hard person to get along with, but lately, he feels like it’s been worse.

Maybe it’s because this is new territory to him. As conceited as it sounds, Kei has never liked someone first. It’s not because he doesn’t think anyone is worthy, but rather, because there are very few people he doesn’t find grating. Despite how he seems, Kei is incredibly sensitive about things, so naturally, it’s easier to get on his nerves.

He’s dated before, though not for long, and all of his relationships have started the same way. Kei is approached by them, usually on the premise of looks, and he accepts. He’s not sure why he does. Sometimes it’s because he thinks they’re pretty, other times it’s because the romantic in him hopes that it will actually work out. It never has.

Most of the time, Kei turns out to be different than they expected. He’s too touchy, too sarcastic, too awkward in his way of trying to love. To Kei, it has always felt like it’s ended just as he was beginning to develop real feelings.

If he’s being honest, it’s given him a twisted inferiority complex. He’s worried that somehow, on a fundamental level, he’s not enough. Sometimes, it even goes so far as for Kei to think that he’s just generally disappointing. He tries not to be. Kei wants to be relied on. He wants to be someone his friends can go to when they need something sturdy.

Despite his personality, Kei considers himself sturdy. Well, maybe stubborn is a better word. Kei considers himself stubborn enough to be made sturdy. He’s just a little awkward. That’s all. People seem to mistake that for being unreliable. It’s a peeve of Kei’s.

Tadashi isn’t like that. Tadashi is bright and warm, reliable in every sense of the word. Kei actually looks up to him a lot, not that he’d ever say anything like that to his face. Sure, Tadashi’s not perfect, but at least people rely on him. At least Kei relies on him.

Tadashi is more easy going than Kei is. He has an easier time going with the flow, which makes him more personable. Kei thinks that Tadashi is the closest thing that he’s had to a better half. In truth, without Tadashi around, Kei isn’t exactly sure what would have become of him.

It’s pointless thinking about these sorts of things though. Kei realized a long time ago that thinking about being better won’t automatically make him better. This is just the way he is and Kei’s learned to accept that, whatever it means. Still, none of this changes the fact that he likes you.

Kei could mull over thought after thought and he doesn’t think it would have any effect on the fact that he’s definitely developed a crush. He’s positive it will go away. In fact, he’s not even sure if it’s real. Maybe Kei is just jealous of you the same way he’s jealous of Tadashi. You’re bright and warm like he is. You and Tadashi are cut from the same cloth, so maybe that’s why the two of you get along so well.

In all honesty, Kei wishes he could be a little more like Tadashi for that reason. Maybe if he were more like Tadashi, he’d have the courage to fully accept these new and uncertain feelings for what they are. But he doesn’t have that kind of courage, not right now at least. He doesn’t have the courage to solidify and lean into his feelings. Kei doesn’t want to risk what little comfort and security he has. If the relationship between you both is a blank page, Kei doesn’t have anything important to write. What if it ruins the paper? What if when he erases it, it changes the thing on a molecular level for the worse? The notebook theory.

—

Despite everything, Kei is rather self-aware. At least in his own head he is. Kei knows that when he pretends he doesn’t like you, he really ends up liking you more. He knows that he’s touchy, that he’s awkward, that he comes across more crass than he intends to. Kei is clumsy, not stupid. That doesn’t mean that he has to acknowledge it.

You’ve been coming around more often since the conversation Kei had with you in the library. Maybe you’re more comfortable now knowing that he doesn’t hate you, so you’re happier to join Tadashi in their shared apartment.

Kei feels bad about making you think that he hates you. Actually, he feels really bad about it. Like, astronomically bad about it. Embarrassingly enough, it actually keeps him up at night. So he goes out of his way to be a little nicer to you. The only other person he’s ever done that for is Tadashi.

He greets you properly when you pass, despite the flare up of a medical condition he’s yet to fully diagnose brought on by your presence. He asks you questions about your studies, partially because he is genuinely curious and partially because he doesn’t want you to hate him. He thinks he’d die if you hated him. Kei’s being brave in his own way. It’s little, but he’s doing it.

As a result, the two of you have grown a little closer. Kei has your phone number now, though he rarely has any reason to text you. Typing out a message to you makes him nervous. It makes him red in the face when you’re not even there. Somehow, having your phone number feels vulnerable to him, like he has access to you whenever he wants and you him. It means that if you wanted, you could make him nervous without even being nearby. That’s a lot for Kei to think about.

Kei sees you in the library sometimes too, but he never takes the initiative to speak to you. You always come up to him first, clumsily gathering your things the way you did the day you and him sorted out your friendship and plopping them down in front of him.

Sometimes, you both go several hours without saying anything to each other. Other times, you’ll chat away about something while leaning forward on the desk and Kei has to pretend that he’s not wildly nervous at your proximity. You’re so friendly. So genuinely warm that Kei can physically feel it when you talk. Despite his nerves, Kei would describe you as comfortable. You’re a comfortable person to him, as alarming as that is.

His crush is out of hand. It scares him, not that he’s actively thought about that. What started as him noticing you has quickly ballooned into him being painfully aware of you at all times. He kind of feels bad about it. You don’t seem to think that he’s anything more than a friend and it makes Kei feel bad that he thinks of you as anything but that. He doesn’t want you to be just a crush to him. Kei wants you to be like Tadashi, someone he can rely on and be comfortable with. He almost feels like he’s reversed what’s been done to him his whole life, like somehow he’s only become your friend because he wants something more.

Truth is though, he doesn’t want anything more. Kei wants to stay exactly where he is. He doesn’t want his crush to develop any further. He doesn’t want to confess, he wants to forget. Even now, sitting on a couch in the library, he wants to imagine he doesn’t feel anything at all for you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You tilt your head at him.

“Huh? Me?” He questions. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem a little distracted,” you smile. “You’ve been staring at your computer for like… 10 minutes with this blank look on your face.”

“You’ve been staring at me for 10 minutes?” He raises an eyebrow, trying to play off the embarrassment of being caught like that.

“Not staring at you,” you huff, “but I definitely noticed.”

“Ha, creep,” he tilts his head up a little, blowing air out of his nose.

“You’re twisted, you know?”

“Whatever,” he shrugs his shoulders and looks back at his computer screen. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shake your head and smile before looking down at your work.

Tadashi has said the same exact thing to him before. In highschool, after Kei had made a joke about his teammate Hinata’s height, Tadashi had given him a look and snorted that he’s so twisted. He’s been hearing that sort of thing his entire life.

“Hey, are you cool if I skip out of here early?” You ask a few moments later.

“Oh, yeah sure. I don’t mind,” he nods, hiding his disappointment. “I didn’t realize that we had like… set times to be here.”

You laugh lightly. “Well, we don’t, but we tend to come and go at the same time, no? I kinda look forward to it.”

Kei envies your honesty. You’re so honest all of the time. You say what you feel when it pops into your head. He wishes he could be like that, maybe then he would be able to say that he does too. Instead, he just nods and swallows his heart back down. You smile at him again and then gather your things.

“You’ll be home on Friday night, right?”

“Uhm, yeah? Why?”

“Tadashi invited me and a few friends over, did he tell you?”

“I think he mentioned it.” Kei has actually been thinking about it for the last couple days.

“Good, I’ll see you, right?”

“Yeah, you will.”

“Great, talk to you later then!” You smile and with that, you walk away.

You sounded so certain in that statement. Talk to you later. You said it like it was inevitable. Thinking about that, Kei can’t help but watch you go. He even likes looking at the back of you, though he wishes he could see your face too. It feels worse to be walked away from than walked towards.

Kei can’t tell anymore if what he feels is romance or jealousy. It’s probably both. It’s probably some mix of the two that he can’t quite sort out. He wishes it weren’t that way. Kei gets the feeling that he might be ruined.

So he just watched you leave the library. Someone is waiting for you at the top of the stairwell. Kei can tell they’re a guy and despite the reluctance of his feelings, his stomach drops anyway when you nudge his shoulder with yours and loop your arm around his. That’s something you haven’t done to Kei before. Touch him. You touch this other person so easily. It makes Kei jealous.

It makes sense that you might be seeing someone, that there might be someone else. After all, you’re you. Desirable. You look up at the stranger, leaning on him, smiling and flashing your teeth. Yeah, it makes sense.

Turns out, it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t feel anything when he thinks you’re interested in someone else. He likes to think it will save him the time of wondering.

—

Kei has cleaned his room approximately four times today. Sure, it’s overboard, but every time he goes into it, he notices something else that needs to be spruced up. Like a pot with a leak, there is always something that he seemed to miss the last time he went through and cleaned up.

It’s not like you’ll be in his room tonight anyway, but you will be in his apartment and that’s close enough to his room that he, for whatever reason, needs to make it so spotless that it looks like a set. Kei knows though, that even when you’re here, he’ll be wondering if there’s something else that he missed beyond the closed door and he’ll think about it incessantly.

He’s been avoiding the thought of him liking you. Instead, Kei cleans and cleans and then cleans some more for good measure. It’s not like he has any sort of claim on you and he knows that it’s stupid to feel jealous over one interaction he witnessed by chance, but his mind is running away with him. Was that person your boyfriend? Has he been begrudgingly pining over a taken person all these months? Do you think that he’s creepy because of it?

He doesn’t get to be upset over the idea that you’re seeing someone else. Why wouldn’t you be? Kei’s done absolutely nothing to indicate his interest in you (or lack thereof), besides maybe telling you that he doesn’t hate you. He has no right to feel the way he does, but he spirals anyway. His insecurities, the ones that gnaw at him in the hours before he falls asleep, play in a constant loop in his head. His unreliability, his unpleasant personality, his cynicism, the baggage he carries with him like a badge. All of it piles up one by one.

Kei feels like a kid again, losing himself over such a simple interaction, over something so miniscule that it might not even be considered anything at all. There are a plethora of reasons for his feeling like this and Kei thinks he could draw one of his issues out of a hat and it would still somehow address the situation at hand, but all he really feels is hurt and he doesn’t want to explain it away. Kei finds that liking someone hurts. It hurts more than it feels good and the uncertainty chews at his patience and leaves it razor thin. It’s not your fault, nor is it the person Kei’s convinced himself you’re seeing, but he needs someone to blame and it can’t be himself.

The idea of you relying on someone else makes him nauseous. He’d never considered the thought before, that you find him as unreliable as others do. Kei wants to be relied on, most of all by you, and that fact makes him upset. He’s afraid of what you think of him and without the confidence to accept his feelings, it threatens to crush him.

Kei’s got this itch over it, so he tries to distract himself. Cleaning his space to prepare for you helps him delude himself that he doesn’t quite like you at all. It’s not your fault. He’s just confused, like his parents were when they married each other. It hurts. Like they were when they had him to try and fix their marriage, which had started to fall apart even when Akiteru was an only child. He’s confused. He’s jealous over your ability to live the way Kei has always wanted to. That’s all this is. Nothing more and nothing less. He feels like he’s being split in two, stretched thin between two modes of thinking.

Kei glances over his shoulder and into his room one last time. He’s forgotten to wipe the mirror. He goes back in and the cycle starts itself over.

—

He’s not proud of his behavior. Kei thinks only a seriously huge asshole would be proud of the kind of behavior he displayed tonight. He regrets it immensely, though some part of him is begrudgingly holding onto the idea that maybe he was right to be so short tempered. Of course, that’s a lunatic’s idea.

Tadashi is standing by the apartment door, mumbling something to you behind it. Over Tadashi’s shoulder, he sees you shake your head and in response, Tadashi gives a small bow before shutting the door to the shared apartment. Then, Tadashi turns and walks towards him.

Kei doesn’t want to look at him, but Tadashi, for some reason, commands his gaze.

“Is there a reason you were such a huge cunt tonight?” Tadashi sort of spits the words. They land at Kei’s feet and roll around before settling.

“What are you talking about? I was normal,” he answers, though the statement sounds like a lie the moment it leaves his lips.

“Bullshit,” Tadashi says. “You were being an asshole the second they walked through the door and you’ve been one to me all day.”

Kei scoffs, his cheeks burning, “I’ve just been tired, dude. Besides, what does it matter? You’re closer to all of them than I am.”

“What? You’re tired so you just get to be a huge asshole?”

“No,” Kei responds.

“So then what was that?”

Kei doesn’t really know. He doesn’t know what prompted him to act so cold or make such snide comments. It’s true, he’d been in a bad mood all day and he knows that Tadashi has borne the brunt of his misplaced emotions, but even Kei is confused as to why he’d acted the way he did. Still though, there is a part of him that knows that it was connected to his spiraling and what he saw in the library. He’d sound insane if he said it out loud, like somehow his growth was stunted in the third grade, but Kei is sure it had something to do with liking you and the hurt that comes with it.

It’s not as if he’d been outwardly mean, but he had been cold. There are parts of himself that Kei doesn’t want you to see, sections of his personality that he ropes off from you because despite not liking you, he wants you to see the best in him. Tonight, he managed to somehow show off the worst.

It started with the noise when everyone had arrived. You, Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, Kiyoko, and Yachi had all piled into the apartment in one large group. Kei’d been sitting on the couch and the sound of the door startled him right off the bat. He assumed that by the time they all had rounded the corner into the living room, his face was already sour, because everyone had greeted him cautiously.

It’s no surprise that everyone was so loud. Kei has known this particular group for many years and they, having all gone to school or work nearby, pile into his apartment often for events like these. You were really the only new factor in all of it and while Kei is known as a touchy person, he certainly was more touchy than usual tonight.

You’d been trying to talk to him all evening and Kei, in a desperate attempt to avoid whatever lingering feelings he had for you, had been shutting you down at every turn. Thinking back on it, he’s endlessly embarrassed. You didn’t deserve that. You’d been nothing but kind to him and there Kei was holding a grudge over you for something he had no right to be angry about whatsoever. He had been holding a grudge over something that he’d learned later that evening that wasn’t even true.

Kei thinks that what Tadashi is referring to, was deliberately picking a fight with Tanaka. Kei and Tanaka have never been particularly close. Even in high school, his boisterous and somewhat obnoxious personality has always rubbed Kei the wrong way. Despite that, Tanaka has somehow managed to maintain a connection to him through university and the two of them have established a tentative but honest friendship.

You had been sitting on the arm of the couch beside Tanaka, leaning over him to look at something he was showing you on his phone. Then, you laughed a little too hard and Kei felt that familiar sense of injustice rise to his throat, thick and heavy. It’s an ugly feeling, the kind that makes Kei feel sick when he’s in bed late at night. Bile rose in his throat in the form of harsh words. Jealousy in the form of the verbal venom Kei excels at.

For Kei, Tanaka was an easy target, someone he could poke at and get a satisfying rise out of. In the moment, the rise he’d gotten from Tanaka by making snide comments about the volume of his voice and his particular obsession with pretty girls had been exactly that, satisfying.

He’d picked a small fight. Nothing physical, but just enough to get him irritated. Kei’s not proud of it, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done it deliberately. After all, Tanaka has never been the type to be the bigger person and turn his nose up.

Sometimes, when Kei is experiencing emotions he’d rather not deal with, he decides to obsess over one single thing. Usually, it’s cleaning or schoolwork. Tonight, it happened to be the volume of Tanaka’s voice, which he knows was a shitty thing to do. Despite wanting to be reliable, Kei can’t help but feel that he was endlessly immature, lashing out at someone completely unrelated to the situation just because he could.

Tadashi pulls him from his thoughts.

“I thought you liked them, dude,” his voice is even, letting up on the anger.

“Who?” Kei plays dumb.

Tadashi responds with your name and Kei stiffens slightly. “I thought you guys had gotten closer. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” Kei says. It’s the truth. Absolutely nothing happened. Kei had spiraled all on his own.

“Why did you ignore them then?”

“I didn’t ignore them,” Kei says. Again, it’s not a lie. He may have shut conversations down and been a little cold, but Kei couldn’t ignore you if he tried, it’s sort of the whole problem he’s dealing with now.

“Maybe, but you were cold. Like… needlessly.”

“I was fucking normal, Tadashi. You should know me well enough by now to know that,” Kei spits.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it? I know you and I know that shit wasn’t normal. You’re twisted, but you’re not an outright asshole, Kei. What’s going on?”

“I was normal, Tadashi. Just because I didn’t bounce around or get rowdy, doesn’t mean that something is wrong,” Kei answers.

“Yeah, but you were like… majorly fucking weird, Kei. You were being an asshole. Don’t you like them? Don’t you want to be nice to them?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t want to be nice to them?” Tadashi scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“No, not that. I don’t like them like that anymore,” Kei lies.

“Oh please, that’s such horseshit,” Tadashi laughs bitterly.

“Get off my ass, Tadashi. I don’t fucking feel that way about them anymore,” Kei insists.

“Did something happen?”

“No, literally nothing happened! Why does something have to happen? I just don’t like them,” Kei feels himself getting indignant. Tadashi doesn’t deserve this either, but he seems to be indiscriminate with his poor behavior tonight.

Tadashi looks at Kei for a moment, studying him and calculating all of the things only Tadashi could know about him. Kei tries to hide it.

“Jesus, Kei, you’ve got to stop doing this shit,” Tadashi touches his hand to his forehead.

“Doing what?”

“Getting all in your head about every single connection you’ve ever had with a person,” Tadashi raises his voice.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve seen you do this a million times! You start to really feel something for a person and then you fucking back away like a dog with its tail between its legs!”

“I don’t do that!”

“Yes, you do! You sabotage yourself until the other person is forced to do something about it!” Tadashi exhales.

“I’ve never done that deliberately! What does someone else’s actions have to do with me?”

“It doesn’t have to do with you,” Tadashi says, “It has to do with your parents.”

The wind is knocked out of Kei, air sucked from his lungs. He furrows his eyebrows at Tadashi, his mouth slightly open.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Tadashi pushes, angry and trying to make him listen. “Not every relationship is like your parents’, Kei.”

Tadashi knows he’s stepped over the line the moment he says it. If it hadn’t registered before, it registers clearly on his face now, regret settling over Tadashi’s usually bright features. Kei gapes at him for a moment, running through his thoughts and trying to pick out one that best verbalizes what it is he feels. Kei comes up empty.

“Shit-” Tadashi starts towards him. “Kei, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I’m just pissed off I didn’t mean to-”

Kei pushes past him. “Tadashi, I know you mean well, but don’t try to tell me about my fucking parents.”

Tadashi doesn’t try to stop him when Kei flings the front door open and walks outside.

—

Kei remembers it like it was yesterday. He remembers all of it.

He can clearly recall the way shattered glass looked on the marble tiles of his childhood home. White porcelain, broken up into multitudes by his mother and father. They never laid hands on each other, but everything else in the house was fair game. Kei’s lost count of the amount of broken glass dishes and picture frames he’d swept from the floor.

Kei’s parents had always been on and off in their affection for each other. One minute, they were deeply in love and the next, they were at each other’s throats. Neither of them were bad people, but they made each other bad people. The two of them brought out the worst in each other, maybe on account of knowing the other so well.

Akiteru was an accident. His brother knows this because when his parents argued, they never let him forget it. In their spats, leverage was whatever they could get their hands on, and that just happened to be Akiteru and the unfortunate circumstances of an accidental pregnancy.

His parents got married at 19, thinking that they’d be able to handle a child, that their marriage was anything but rushed. They convinced themselves that it was love, when the reality was that Akiteru came because they were too young and stupid to prevent it. At least, that’s what Kei and Akiteru had settled on in the evenings after the yelling had died down and they were left to make sense of it in their shared bedroom.

They had Kei to fix the marriage. Kei knows this because, like Akiteru, his father’s marital “solution” in the form of a second child was constant leverage to his mother. Kei grew up asking Akiteru why his mother and father even had children in the first place.

Their relationship was rocky and unstable, predictable and toxic. They, like Kei, would do things to get rises out of each other. They’d make digs, do things to get under the other’s skin. They did it for attention, for affection, or out of loathing for the person they’d decided to make their life partner. When things settled, they got bored. His parents often mistakened calmness for complacency in their relationship. His parents loved each other, but they hated each other just as much, and it was he and Akiteru who paid the price.

They got divorced when he was fourteen and any chance of Kei having a normal family went to the courthouse with the divorce papers. Akiteru was 20 at the time and managed to avoid the brunt of the custody battle. Kei still gets unexplainably angry with Akiteru for leaving him alone, though he knows that it’s not his fault. The only way Kei could make sense of it was through blame and it was easier to blame Akiteru for lying about volleyball or leaving him alone than it was to blame himself. Both Kei’s father and mother tried for full custody, not because they loved him that much, but because they knew that it would destroy the other. In the end, Kei spent his weekdays with his mother because she lived closer to his school, and weekends with his father just because.

It happens all the time. People grow together, then grow apart, and grow to loathe each other. Kei watched it happen to his parents, he watched it happen to his friends, he watched it happen to himself with his own reflection. That’s just the way it goes.

The air outside of his apartment is cool and breezy. He can feel the wind through his sweater, cutting through the gaps in the stitching and into his skin. Kei feels like he can think a little better out here, sitting on the short concrete wall with his back to the apartment building. He stares at his feet, outstretched in front of him. He's still wearing his house slippers.

Kei did this once when he was younger. The fight that night had been particularly bad and his parents had resulted to throwing things across their bedroom. Kei could hear picture frames shatter through two walls and he wondered which memories they’d decided to trash. A particularly loud shout had sent Kei out of the front door and onto the curb in front of the house.

He remembers crying, staring at his house slippers on the pavement, afraid because he could hear the shouting even from the lawn. Akiteru had come out to get him, sitting down beside him on the curb and putting his arm around him.

“Are mom and dad gonna get divorced?” Kei had asked through sniffles.

“Divorced? No, no,” Akiteru answered. “It’s just a rough patch. It happens to all couples. Mommy and Daddy will be fine.”

“It’s normal?” Kei sniffled.

Akiteru paused for a moment. Looking back, Kei realizes that Akiteru was debating on whether or not to lie to protect him. Kei wishes he hadn’t.

“Yeah, it’s normal.”

Normal. Kei realizes that he doesn’t exactly know what a normal relationship looks like. He is his parents' son. What they had in them, he has in him. Kei knows that those habits, the digs, the sour statements, the passive aggressiveness, are all things he’s picked up from watching them. Some role models they were.

He needs to apologize to Tadashi. He may have overstepped, but Kei knows that he’d been an asshole tonight. He’ll need to apologize to Tanaka as well. And to you, which is perhaps the scariest part of this. He wants to apologize for his behavior, but apologizing means that he has to admit that he’d acted the way his parents did, out of jealousy and a pull for attention. Yup, he’s his parents’ son alright.

Kei tilts his head up toward the sky. Only half of it is visible, the other half blocked by the three story apartment complex directly behind him. It’s a clear night, but he can’t see any stars and the moon is nowhere to be found. Kei wonders when the morning will come. It’s a few hours off, but he thinks about how the sky will look when the sun begins to rise.

“Kei,” a familiar voice calls from in front of him.

You’re a few feet away, your hands clasped in front of you.

“Thought you went home,” he says.

“Yeah well, I had intended to,” you start, “but you seemed off and I felt weird going back without checking on you. Can I sit?”

Kei shrugs his shoulders, mortified and angry at being caught like this. He appreciates the thought, but you’re the last person he wants to see right now. It just means he needs to face his shortcomings sooner.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kei answers automatically.��

“Just decided on some fresh air?” You smile a little and Kei blows air out of his nose.

“Yup, that’s exactly it.”

You sit next to him with your legs outstretched the same way his are, your hands are laced together in front of you, hanging down between your thighs. Kei doesn’t make an effort to say anything and neither do you. Instead, he just trains his head back up towards the sky and attempts to collect his thoughts, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Strangely, tonight he doesn’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to. Maybe he’s too preoccupied with being sorry to pay any mind to the heart palpitations he gets when you’re around. Maybe it’s because even though he showed you the worst of him tonight, you still came back. It’s a small hope, but it’s there.

“Hey,” your voice comes quietly, “I don’t know what’s going on, but if you need- I mean- if you want to talk about it, I’m a pretty good ear.”

Kei nods a little.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “about tonight.”

“I didn’t come here for an apology, you know?” You exhale a little.

“Yeah, but you deserve one,” he says. “I was pretty shitty to you.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agree, catching Kei off guard, “but it happens to all of us. Sometimes we feel things and just can’t keep them inside, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, swallowing down his shame.

There’s another long silence. You don’t move to touch him or talk to him, instead, you provide steady company. Kei, as strange as it is, is comforted by your presence.

“I fought with Tadashi,” Kei says after a few minutes.

“Today?”

“Yeah, tonight. After everyone left,” he says. “I deserved it though. I’ve been pretty shitty to him all day.”

You hum, leaning back on your hands.

“I did the same shit in high school too, you know?” Kei starts. “We’ve uhm- we’ve known each other for a while, the group that was over tonight. Around the end of middle school some shit happened and I uh- I took out a lot of what I was feeling on Tadashi and the others, but mostly Tadashi because he was the only one who knew.”

Kei isn’t sure why he’s telling you this. Maybe Tadashi was right. Maybe this is another attempt at self sabotage.

“You bullied him?” You ask, a little surprised.

Kei shakes his head. “No, but I wasn’t very nice either. Anyone could tell you that. I thought I was past it, though,” he admits, a little defeated.

“Did you ever apologize?”

Kei looks up at you in surprise. Your eyes are full of something, curiosity, maybe pity.

“For what you did in school?”

He nods. “Countless times, and not just to Tadashi either, to everyone.”

“You know, stuff like this happens,” you say. “When I was little, I used to hate sharing. Toys, food, friends. I’d hate it when my friends were friends with other people. It made me insecure and I’d get mad at them for it. I grew out of it, but sometimes I still get that way and I have to apologize later.”

Kei laughs. It’s strikingly similar to what’s happening now, not that you’d have any way of knowing.

“I can’t imagine you doing that,” he says.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I still get weird over it sometimes.”

Kei shakes his head a little, smiling.

“All that I’m saying is that sometimes we slip up, that’s all. It’s normal,” you continue. “Not that I’m condoning it. Just saying that it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you human.”

“Thanks,” he says softly.

“No problem,” you respond.

“So why’d you fight with him tonight?”

“He was angry with me because I was an asshole,” Kei shrugs.

“And you’re mad that he called you out?” You give a quiet and somewhat incredulous laugh.

Kei shakes his head. “No, I’m angry about what he said after.”

“What’d he say?”

Kei debates on telling you. He doesn’t want to make himself out to be a victim. After all, Tadashi meant no harm, even if his comment did exactly that.

“The argument kind of switched subjects,” Kei tiptoes around the fact that the subject was you. “He brought up a bad habit of mine and I got defensive.”

“Okay,” you say, waiting for him to say more.

“Remember when I said that something happened at the end of middle school and only Tadashi knew about it?” When you nod, Kei continues. “My parents got divorced. They were a bad match and it was messy. He brought it up.”

You nod again, your eyes wide.

“He didn’t mean any harm, I know that,” Kei inhales. “But uh- that stuff kind of sticks with you. Well, it’s stuck with me and I didn’t like having it used to explain my behaviors, even if he was right. I’m not deflecting or anything though. I know I was the problem tonight.”

“Sure,” you say. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

Kei shrugs. “It’s in the past. They’re both remarried now with new kids.”

The last sentence leaves Kei with a sour taste in his mouth. His parents are good people, but after his childhood, he doesn’t think they have any business having more children. Maybe they’re capable of being good for them, but Kei doesn’t like to imagine that. It makes him feel like their marriage wasn’t the problem, but he and Akiteru were.

“You say that like they got a new pet,” you smile a little. “Are you still in touch with them?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I visit whenever I go back home, though they’re really not too far from here.”

“That’s good of you.”

“Well, they are my parents,” Kei says plainly.

You’re the only other person he’s divulged this to by choice and your reactions, understanding and level-headed, make him feel better. It’s like getting a weight off of his chest. This is the worst of him. This little bit of information, his history of being unable to fully confront his feelings, of taking anger out on others when he was young, is where his problems originate.

“Yeah, but you’re allowed to feel what you feel about it,” you say. “My mom died when I was eleven. Texting and driving. I’m still angry at her for it.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You shrug and offer him a wry smile. “It’s in the past, but I’m still angry even though I shouldn’t be.”

“At her?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “She made a stupid mistake that we’re constantly warned about and left my dad and me behind. I was so angry with her, still am. I love her though, perceived faults and all.”

Kei thinks about whether or not he loves his parents. He thinks he does, even if he resents them. Kei can’t imagine what he’d do without them. Even though his childhood had few emotional comforts, he still can’t think about a world where he doesn’t visit home to have his mother’s cooking. That’s a world that you live in.

“That’s hard.” It’s all Kei can think to offer.

“It was,” you say. “Got easier though as soon as I started accepting things. Now I just miss her more than I hate her.”

Another bout of silence follows this. It must be close to two in the morning and he’s been outside so long that he can no longer feel the tip of his nose.

“Anyway, about tonight,” you say, “it’s not a crime to feel what you feel, but if you need help, that’s what we’re here for. It’s easier to accept feelings and get hurt than to ignore them, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Kei says, looking to face you. “Thank you.”

You’re so pretty. It’s striking. The curvature and angles of your face, the gentle look in your eyes, softened by the conversation. Kei finds himself thinking that despite not wanting to face you a few hours earlier, he’s grateful that you showed up. You’re good in ways that Kei can hardly fathom.

“You should go inside. Tadashi is probably wondering where you are,” you say, standing up. “Plus,” you pinch the tip of his nose between your middle and pointer knuckles, “your nose looks like a cherry tomato.”

“Rude,” he says, startled by the sudden touch.

“Payback,” you shrug your shoulders and Kei rolls his eyes.

“Do you need me to walk you home?” Kei offers, a bit nervous about you walking home on your own.

“I’d love to take you up on that, but you seem tired and I don’t live very far,” you respond. “I’ll call you when I get home though, okay? Since you’re so worried.”

Kei laughs a little and then nods, standing up. “Yeah, I am.”

His honesty surprises even him, but you just tilt your head and give him a small smile.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” you say. “Thanks for the apology”

“Anytime.”

“I hope not,” you laugh and Kei follows suit.

You begin to turn on your heel, giving a small wave.

Kei doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he calls out your name and reaches for your wrist. Before he has a moment to think about what he’s doing, he pulls you to his chest in a hug. You stiffen and then relax in his grip, wrapping your arms around him. Your body is warmer than his, sending heat through the gaps in his sweater.

“You can call even if it’s not to tell me you got home safe,” he says. “If you want to.”

You squeeze him around the middle. “Okay, I will.”

When Kei lets go, he finds that his face is burning. The cold has been replaced by a flush of blood, making his vision a little syrupy.

“Thanks for coming back,” he says. “Get home safe.”

“Of course,” you sound a little dazed, wearing an expression that Kei thinks might match his. “And I will.”

Then, you smile at him, flashing your teeth and giving him a wave. You hold up your phone and point to it.

“Expect a call!”

Kei nods and raises his arm to wave goodbye.

He stands and watches your figure as you walk down the sidewalk and turn the corner. When you’re out of sight, he lingers by the door to his building, just in case you decide to come back. You don’t come back, but Kei lingers anyway, considering the conversation.

He goes inside, intent on apologizing to Tadashi. When he opens the door to his apartment, the lights are still on in the living room and Tadashi gets up from the couch and walks quickly down the hall to him.

“Kei, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry,” Kei says. “I know. I’m sorry about tonight too. And for treating you like that today. And for high school.”

“High school?” Tadashi says, confused. “Why are you bringing up high school?”

“Just wanted to apologize again.”

Kei can feel his eyes drooping, exhaustion creeping into his body and replacing the elated feeling he had moments before.

“I didn’t mean to bring your parents into it. How you like someone is none of my business,” Tadashi says. “I was out of line.”

“So was I,” Kei admits through a tired sigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’ll apologize to the others in the morning.”

Tadashi narrows his eyes a little and nods. Kei, besieged by that sleepy late night feeling, moves towards his bedroom.

“Hey, Kei,” his voice comes out a little louder this time. “You’re being surprisingly easy-going. Are we good?”

Kei scoffs a little, rubbing his eyes. “I just had some time to think, that’s all. And yeah, we’re good.”

“Okay, are you good?”

“Yeah, I am,” Kei says.

Before he closes the door to his room, he furrows his eyebrows and makes a firm decision.

“By the way,” Tadashi turns to him, cocking his head to the side in response. “I lied. I do like them.”

“Could have guessed as much,” he responds, laughing a little. “See you in the morning.”

“Yup, see you in the morning.”

Kei shuts the door to his room. It clicks into place quietly. His room is spotless. It looks like a room that could be easily emptied at any time. He sighs, stepping into it and laying down on his bed. His phone is on the comforter next to him, lying face up.

When it lights up, it illuminates the ceiling above him and he answers the phone without needing to check who's calling.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I got home safe,” he hears your keys clink against something and then the sound of a door shutting. Then, he hears the sound of you laying down on your bed. He imagines you’re lying the same way he is.

“Good, I’m glad,” he says. “No trouble?”

“No trouble at all,” you say. He can hear your smile.

“Thanks again for coming back tonight,” he says, turning over onto his side and letting the phone rest on the bed in front of his face.

“Of course,” you say.

He doesn’t know what else to say. His nerves have caught up to him and your voice through the speaker sounds so close, like you’re whispering directly into his ear.

“Okay, well I’m going to go to bed,” Kei starts.

“Kei?” you say.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna take you up on your offer. About calling you. Just wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” he swallows.

“I feel a lot closer to you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Goodnight, Kei,” you practically whisper.

“Goodnight,” he responds, lowering his voice the same way you did. You hang up the phone and the call ends.��

He blinks at his phone for a moment before standing up and getting ready for bed. Kei goes through the motions while thinking about how the evening got here. He’d been certain before it began that he no longer liked you, that he was confused. Now, he’s certain of the opposite.

He decides that he’ll like you for real this time. Even if he’s afraid of hurting himself, of hurting you.

Kei lays down in his bed and faces the ceiling. He thinks about his parents, about your mother, about you. The cadence of your voice, the slight tremor in it. He thinks about your expressions, understanding and unintrusive. He thinks about your history, the anger you’d admitted to him and the grace you’d given him in his own circumstances.

He dreams of braids, like DNA. Coils of pink yarn woven together in an intricate pattern. A molecular change not visible to the naked eye. Morning comes like liquid gold, spilling across his bedspread in slats through the window.

—

Kei’s apologies go smoothly. Tadashi’s friends—his friends—are good people. They know him better than most and field his awkward, stumbling apology with steady hands.

He’d explained his sour mood in as little detail as possible, deliberately omitting his feelings for you while doing so, and he made a special effort to apologize to Tanaka. He’s easygoing and quick to forget, but Kei knows that even after accepting the apology, Tanaka will lord it over his head for a week or two. Tanaka thinks those kinds of things are funny and Kei won’t try to tell him otherwise.

You do take Kei up on his offer. You call him twice a week now. Sometimes it’s to tell him something relevant to him, other times, you just whisper into the phone that you just felt like talking. Either way, it’s not good for his heart. Kei thinks that at this rate, it might just give out.

There are a lot of things that Kei could say about liking you. It makes his days a little brighter. When he remembers that he has someone he cares about like that, he feels a surge of excitement for no particular reason. He finds that he looks forward to seeing you and goes out of his way to do so, more than he did before he was willing to admit it.

He’s noticed the way you eat, like every bite of food is even better than the last. He’s noticed that you wipe the condensation off of your cups before each sip. He’s noticed that when you’re studying, you’ll pull at the collar of your shirt absentmindedly and then become frustrated when it is stretched out of place. Kei likes all of these things about you.

Kei has also found that liking someone hurts. It hurts worse than he thought it would. Insecurity weaves its way into even the most minor of interactions. He’s self conscious almost all of the time, adjusting his hair, clothing, glasses right down to minor details. As of late, Kei appears more put together than he ever has, but the reality is that he’s probably the least put together he’s ever been.

When you’re around, Kei is awkward and clumsy. He drops things, trips over nothing, loses control over his lanky limbs and overshoots things. He feels like a teenager again, not that he’s that far off from one.

Still, one thing overshadows all of this. Kei is so comfortable around you, so peaceful despite the nerves and insecurity, that he’s able to forget about the worst of it. Forgetting about the worst of things is not something Kei is particularly good at. He’s cynical by nature. You help to ease the burden of it.

The coffee shop he’s visiting with you today is quiet. The room is decorated with dark oak wood and the tables are accented by the rings of the trees the wood was cut from. The early spring light filters in at angles through the windows letting out onto the street. It falls across your notebooks and the knuckles of your hand, wrapped evenly around a black pen.

You’d brought him here to study instead of going to the library and Kei can’t help but think that it feels like a date. His tea sits half-finished in a mug beside his laptop, beginning to cool to room temperature. Your coffee sits by your unoccupied hand and every now and then, you’ll reach to take a sip of the warm beverage without even glancing up.

Kei has spent so much time watching you today, that he’s hardly gotten any work done. His computer is open on a document with a paragraph of writing about nudity in the classical period, which he hasn’t touched in about 10 minutes. He’s been clicking blankly around the page, adding spaces and then deleting them and then glancing up over the edge of the screen to look at the way you purse your lips when you’re focused.

“You’d get a lot more done if you stopped staring,” you say, not looking up from your notebook.

Kei chokes on his exhale. “What?”

You laugh a little, looking up at him through your lashes. God, you’re pretty.

“The document?” You chuckle. “You’re not fooling anyone by clicking around randomly like that.”

“Oh,” Kei furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head a little. “Yeah, just can’t seem to focus.”

“What’s the paper on?” You set down your pen and cross your arms on the table.

“It’s not really a paper,” he says. “It’s a visual analysis on the Aphrodite of Knidos.”

“Is that the one without the arms?”

“No, but they come from the same family of statues,” Kei smiles a little.

You hum a bit. “Do you like it?”

“Like, do I think the statue’s pretty?” Kei closes the screen of his laptop to see you better. “Yeah, I do. Learning about the history of it is a bit depressing though.”

“Why?”

“Well, Aphrodite was one of the most powerful Greek gods, right?” He says, and you nod your head and roll your eyes because you know that already. “But this statue group intrudes on a private moment of hers. She’s trying to cover up her body, probably just before or after a bath. It’s meant to be humiliating.”

You tilt your head. “Sounds more interesting than molecular structures at least.”

Kei laughs a little. “Yeah, I think it’s just a bit more interesting.”

“Why did you choose to study art history?” You question, leaning forward on your elbows.

Kei feels awkward at receiving the question. He doesn’t like talking about himself much, let alone his passions. They tend to get away from him.

“Probably because I’m no good at art,” he smiles a little.

“Such a shame, what with your artist’s hands and all,” you reach across the table and tap his knuckle.

Kei feels the color rise to his cheeks.

“You’re no good at art, so you study art history instead?” You press for more.

“Yeah,” he says. “I like things that people make with their hands. There’s a lot of human expression in ancient art, good and bad. Gives a bit more context into who we were before.”

You lean back in the chair, grinning at him. Kei bites the inside of his cheek and tries not to notice the slope of your neck.

“Why are you studying molecular bio?” He changes the subject.

You shrug your shoulders. “I want a good cushy job that makes me a lot of money.”

Kei watches the corners of your lips curl up.

“Plus,” you continue, “I wanted to show off a little bit.”

“So you put yourself through four years of torture?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yup, I’m a huge masochist,” you grin.

“You STEM kids are unbearable, you know?” Kei snorts.

“But you like me anyway, yeah?”

Kei nods, heat creeping up his neck, and watches you return to your work.

It’s true, he does like you anyway. Kei likes you so much, in fact, that it frightens him. Well, the idea of liking someone has always frightened Kei, whether he’s noticed it or not. Commitment, or lack thereof, make Kei nervous in the same way heights do. He feels like he could lose his footing at any moment.

That’s probably why he doesn’t want to do anything in particular about his feelings. Kei is content with just feeling them. He’s content to just be able to like you in his own way, even if nothing ever comes of it. He probably shouldn’t do anything about them, considering the back and forth battle he’s waged in his mind over the last few months. He’s too indecisive to do anything but like you, and even that feels herculean to accept.

Not that liking you is a hard thing to do. You’re easy to like. It’s easy for him to picture touching you. It’s easy for Kei to imagine late night conversations and little intimacies shared over damp pillows. You’re easy to talk to, floating through conversations and navigating conflict with a sure step, something Kei can’t do. It’s not hard to find things to admire.

Kei imagines what it would be like to be with you. He imagines the feel of your hands in his, how you might look spread beneath him, the inside of your thighs pressing against his hips. He imagines how his glasses might fog up with your breath and slip down the bridge of his nose. What do you taste like? What do you feel like?

A little alarm bell sounds in his head. This is a dangerous line of thought, a greedy one. Kei doesn’t think he can handle greed, not when it comes to you. He got a taste of it that day when he saw you leave with someone else and again the following Friday. Kei doesn’t mix well with it, with wanting. Still, he wants.

—

It’s a breezy day. It cuts the growing humidity as the beginning of May creeps on. This is no doubt one of the best times of year, though Kei prefers the fall or winter. Still, even with the slightly sticky air, his walk to class is pleasant. He’d even venture to say that it’s good.

Light filters through the trees, blooming with their spring flowers, and in the distance he can see a familiar row of cherry blossoms just beginning to bloom. As he approaches them, he finds himself admiring their delicate petals, wondering just how brief their bloom will be before they come cascading down. One tree among the pink rows has yet to open its flowers. The buds sit on their branches, shades of green and gray. A late bloomer. This tree will no doubt flower once the other petals have fallen, and when it does, it’ll become the most eye-catching thing on the street.

Kei admires it for a moment, standing below the thing and looking up through its twisting branches. It’s so small, much smaller than the rest of its counterparts, and its branches don’t look too full of yet-to-bloom buds either.

There was a tree like this outside of Kei’s childhood home, the one his family lived in together when it was whole. It would always bloom a week after the others and every year he would worry that it never would. Of course, he kept this fear to himself, but he often watched it from his bedroom window when Akiteru was out. He’d press his face against the glass and pray for the flowers to come so that it didn’t get left behind. Sure enough though, it would bloom without fail and leave scattered pink petals across his yard and doorstep. Kei wonders if this tree in front of him will do the same.

“Thinking about changing your major to plant sciences, Kei?”

He jumps, started by your voice and your proximity.

“Jesus,” Kei turns, “you need a bell or something.”

“You’re the one standing in public staring at a tree with no flowers on it,” you laugh a little.

Kei shrugs his shoulders, not really willing to give an explanation for the train of thought he was just on.

“Where’re you headed?” he questions.

“Dropping off an assignment,” you smile lightly, “wanna come with me?”

“I can’t. I’ve got a class in 15.”

“Fifteen minutes is fifteen minutes,” you shrug. “We’ll make it.”

“We?” Kei raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you come with me to drop off my paper and then I drop you off at class. It’s a win-win.”

“Sounds like I’m just doing a lot of extra walking,” Kei snorts.

“Yeah, but you get to do it with me so it’ll be more fun.”

Kei folds and goes with you to drop off your assignment. It’s an essay assigned by an old-fashioned professor who doesn’t like electronic submissions. You comment off-handedly on what a waste of paper it is and Kei nods, just happy to hear about it.

It’s strange. Kei is normally very tied to his routine. It keeps him sane, helps him to organize his thoughts and feelings into neat compartments. For Kei, an orderly life is an orderly mind. Somehow though, you ask him to deviate from that and he’s more than willing, eager even, to oblige you. Better yet, he does it without feeling off-kilter. Well, without feeling as off-kilter about his daily life. When it comes to you, Kei is about as stable as a pogo stick.

The walk to your professor's office is only a few minutes from his classroom, just a few buildings over, but by the time you both arrive there, Kei’s palms are sweating. He resorts to shoving them in his pockets and wiping them on the inside of his pants, mortified at the idea of accidentally touching you like this.

“Hey, about tonight,” you start after dropping the paper off with a quick bow.

You’re supposed to come over. It’s the first time you and Kei have agreed to hang out at one of your places alone and Kei has been compartmentalizing his nerves so harshly that he’d almost forgotten about it entirely. Maybe that explains his easy-going mood.

“Yeah?”

“So, Tadashi may have mentioned it in front of the others,” you give him a sheepish grin, “and they may have asked to come and I definitely told them ‘the more the merrier’.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kei’s a little disappointed. “So they’re coming too?”

“Yeah, is that okay?” You furrow your eyebrows.

Kei can’t very well come out and say that it isn’t, because his reason for thinking that is entirely about monopolizing your time. Kei says he doesn’t want to do anything about these feelings, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t indulge just a little into the foreign feeling of accepting that he’s ‘in like’.

“Yeah sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

You raise an eyebrow at him and Kei misses the message entirely.

“I dunno, you’re not really a fan of bigger groups right?”

“Not really,” Kei shrugs, “but I’ve known them for a while so it doesn’t count.”

You nod your head and then smile. “Great! Now, where is your class?”

“Social Sciences,” Kei glances down at the brown watch on his wrist. “In about… four minutes.”

“Wanna run? Can’t be late, can you?”

Kei does not want to run. He runs anyway. You’re faster than he is and your step is louder. The soles of your shoes thump on the floor with every step you take and your whole body lurches forward with each bound. When you reach the end of the hallway his class is in, Kei is completely winded. Considering that he plays volleyball as a hobby, he should really be in better shape. He attributes his lack of breath to your presence. Maybe he’d been holding it while watching you run.

You glance into his full classroom, giving him a relieved look upon seeing that the professor has not begun her lecture yet. Then, you bounce twice on the tips of your toes and start jogging in the other direction.

“Have a good class!” You call.

“What’s the rush?” he questions.

“I’ve got class now too, dummy. Just wanted to hang out with you for a few more minutes.” Then, you turn and run off, your bag bouncing against the side of your leg as you round a corner and fly down a set of stairs.

That’s the thing about you that Kei can’t get enough of. When Kei takes a step back, when he resigns himself to being okay with just a chance meeting and a brief hello, you take a step forward. Whatever Kei lacks, you make up for tenfold. Your outstretched hand makes him greedier. It makes Kei want more than he’s ever wanted before. He goes to class starved for something that isn’t food, a feeling Kei hasn’t experienced often, let alone leaned into. He lets himself feel the hunger.

—

Day melts away to a cool evening, still slightly wet, but like the dampness before rain. The air loses its warm touch, creeping into something chillier. Kei opens his bedroom window to let the air in. He likes the smell of cool nights. He wants his room to smell like it when he sleeps tonight.

“Sorry that I spilled the beans about tonight,” Tadashi leans in the doorway of his room.

“It’s not like that,” Kei rolls his eyes, already irritated with the implication that whatever you and Kei had organized was anything more than two friends hanging out.

“Sure it isn’t,” he laughs.

“I’m serious dude,” Kei fights the urge to throw something soft at him.

“You wanted to hang out with them alone, right?” Tadashi tilts his head. His dark hair falls to the side and around his neck.

“I just said it wasn’t like that!”

Tadashi gives an even laugh. “You’re the one making it dirty, Tsukki, not me.”

Heat floods Kei’s face, painting it red.

“Caught ya,” Tadashi smiles.

“When the hell are you moving out?” Kei grumbles and Tadashi gives another good natured laugh.

“Not until you do. You’re stuck with me.”

“Not if I kill you,” Kei doesn’t smile when he says this.

Tadashi barks a laugh. “So what changed?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with you. You seem a little more upbeat lately,” Tadashi says. “Nothing like the sad sack from a few months ago.”

“I was kidding before but now I’m serious. I really will kill you.”

Tadashi shakes his head a little but doesn’t say anything, intruding on Kei’s space until he gives an answer.

“I just got tired of it, that’s all,” Kei says evenly, though it’s a little hard to admit.

“Tired of what?”

“Pretending,” he says plainly, glancing up at Tadashi in the doorway.

“Because of them?”

“No,” he starts. “Maybe. I don’t know. Can you leave now?”

Tadashi shakes his head. “Too curious to leave.”

“I don’t have an answer for you,” Kei grumbles. “I got tired of pretending I didn’t want them.”

“Not like you were very good at pretending,” Tadashi laughs and Kei tosses him a sharp look.

He raises his hands defensively, tucking his chin downwards and laughing lightly. “Okay, fine. I’m gone now.”

“They’ll be here in an hour or so, by the way,” Kei adds and Tadashi gives a little hum to confirm that he’s heard him as he leaves the room.

Kei glances around his room. The floor is bare, save for a small mat by the side of his bed to keep the shock of warm feet on a cold floor in the morning away. That notebook, dear to him as it is, still sits on the desk. It’s empty, but Kei likes the look of it.

The hour before you and his friends are meant to arrive goes by so slowly that Kei worries that he’s gotten the day wrong. He incessantly checks his watch. It’s a brown leather watch with a square face. Thin and somewhat old fashioned, Kei prefers it to pulling his phone out to check the time. His Dad has one like it, almost matching. It had been given to him as a gift at his high school graduation and Kei had accepted it begrudgingly. He’d not been on good terms with his parents then and having them both in the same space for his graduation day was more trouble than it was worth. Still, he wears the watch almost daily. Despite having the impression that his parents never really cared about him, it was a fine gift for him and the brown strap suits his light skin tone in the same way it suits his father’s.

He walks to the mirror in his room, hanging on the wall beside his nightstand, and peers into it. Kei’s curly hair is somewhat unruly. It’s hard to manage, especially in the warmer months when his waves turn into frizzy curls that he can’t seem to keep down. It’s gotten longer, coming down to just above the bottom of his ears at the back and curls upwards in licks of thick blond.

Kei fiddles with it for a moment, tucking it behind his ears and then deciding to pull it forward. He could put gel in it to help calm it down, but he hates the greasy look of it and he’s never been one to primp and preen. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, square frames in a tortoiseshell pattern. They look expensive, though they’re only a cheap pair that he’d found at the drug store and had the lenses replaced.

He looks normal. Kei looks like himself, if not a bit flushed in the face from his nerves. His reflection is one he is oddly unfamiliar with, despite it being his throughout his entire life. At some point during high school, he’d stopped recognizing the man in the mirror as Kei and started viewing him as a separate entity. Kei Two, a version of him that can make a home out of a space and find things to write in his notebook. Kei Two’s family is still whole and unbroken, and he likes to imagine that he’s a little more friendly than the real-world version. He looks away from the mirror, content today with being the original.

Kei is in the living room and around the corner when the front door latch clicks open and is followed by a symphony of raucous voices. He takes a sharp inhale, unsure of why this feels so different from the hundreds of other times you’ve all piled into his living room.

“Where’s Kei?” He hears you call, dragging out the syllable of his name in a soft hum.

That’s why. It’s because this time, you’ve come here to see him specifically. You’re not here to see Tadashi or by chance, you’re here because you’d made plans to see Kei. That’s what makes it different.

You round the corner and Kei is hit full force in the chest with his emotions and his nerves. It happens all at once, keeping the air from his lungs. You’re smiling, beaming even, and Kei thinks that maybe it’s because you can hear the hammer of his heart against his chest.

“Hi,” you breathe, plopping down next to him on the couch.

“Hey,” he chokes out.

Kei chides himself for his nerves. He’d been doing better about getting weird around you, but today he feels closer to blowing up than he ever has.

Hinata, Kageyama, Yachi, and Noya make their way into the kitchen, each one clapping Tadashi on the back as they do. They beeline for their fridge, opening the door and flooding the floor with artificial white light as they pull out enough beers and sodas to supply a small army. Kei wonders why he and Tadashi ever bought so many of them. Kei hardly drinks, but he supposes that Tadashi just likes to host.

“Tanaka and Kiyoko?” Tadashi questions as he makes his way into the living room with the group. His beer cracks open with a satisfying pop.

“Date night,” Noya says, sinking into one of the arm chairs situated around the coffee table. “So annoying.”

He groans about Kiyoko, someone he’s all but worshiped since high school.

“You’re just mad it isn’t you,” Kageyama quips, giving a somewhat mean grin.

“Not true,” Noya argues. “I am the happiest person in the world for them! But now they go on dates and I can’t come. It’s like I lost a bro.”

“You’re so overreacting,” Yachi adds, her lips forming around high pitched syllables. “They’re here most of the time.”

“Yeah, most but not all,” Noya pouts.

“Give the same energy to Daichi, Suga, and Asahi next time, kay?” Tadashi laughs.

Their friend group is a large one, consisting of most (if not all) of their highschool volleyball team. While Hinata, Kageyama, and Yachi are the same age as Kei and Tadashi, Tanaka and Noya are a year older, and Kiyoko is two. Daichi, Asahi, and Suga all went to universities outside of Sendai, meaning they hardly ever see them. All in all, the rest of the group is pretty bummed about it. Kei just finds that he misses having Daichi around to reel everyone in. Now that he’s gone, that job has somehow gone to Tadashi, who is more of an enabler than anything else.

“They’re different and you know it,” Noya frowns, opening his open beer with a hiss through his teeth.

You lean to the side, bumping your shoulder against Kei’s.

“Who’re Daichi, Suga, and Asahi?” You ask softly.

“You’ve never met?” Kei furrows his eyebrows and you shrug.

“Maybe, but if I have it was only once or twice.”

“They’re friends from our volleyball team in highschool, but they’re two years older.”

“Okay, so one year older than me?”

Kei blinks a few times. “You’re a year older than me?”

“Yeah?” You laugh a little like it’s obvious.

“But aren’t you a fourth year?” He furrows his eyebrows.

“I took a year off before starting college,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thought that I had to get my sillies out.”

“Your sillies?” Kei laughs a little.

“Yeah,” you smile, “and I had to save up some money. It makes the world go ‘round, you know?”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Tadashi gives Kei a wry grin over the top of his beer can.

It’s only then that Kei realizes the way you both are leaning into each other. He’s tilting his head down to hear you better and you’re leaning forward. It gives off the impression of two people conspiring, of closeness that Kei hadn’t even realized had crept up on him.

“I was asking who Daichi, Suga, and Asahi are,” you shrug off the moment, leaning back in the chair.

This prompts a chorus of disbelief, everyone jumping in to describe them to you. Kei takes it as a moment to breathe, inhaling and exhaling. He can feel your thigh against his, just barely there and bleeding warmth through the fabric of his jeans.

They delve into stories about nationals, little details that Kei had forgotten a long time ago. Every now and then, someone will bring up Kei’s more-than-sour personality and he will feel the need to hide the embarrassment on his cheeks. Even though you know about it, it’s still mortifying for Kei to hear. He wants you to see the best in him, but any hopes he had of you forgetting are quickly washed away as someone brings up Kei’s relentless prodding of Kageyama’s easily pushed buttons.

You laugh along with them like you were there, amused to hear stories about your college friends in their high school years. Kei finds himself thinking that you fit very well into this scene.

Still though, despite the fun he’s having, Kei’s battery begins to run out quickly and after a long game of cards, he gets up to take a quick break in the kitchen. It’s not that he wants the night to end, but rather that he just needs a minute to himself and uses the idea of more snacks as an excuse for it.

He reaches into a cabinet, pulling out a half-finished bag of chips and setting them on the counter. They’re clipped with a bright red chip-clip from the grocery store and Kei thinks that because of that, they shouldn’t have gone stale yet. If it were the peak of summer, Kei might think twice, but this time of year, they should be fine.

Then, he bends down to get a large white mixing bowl from a lower cabinet. Their plates and bowls are kept in various different cabinets, though the only reason they stay somewhat organized is because of Kei.

“Done already?” You lean your hip against the counter.

“With what?” Kei struggles to keep his eyes from following the line of your body.

“Hanging out,” you smile lightly.

“Not really,” he says. “Just needed a minute and decided to get more snacks.”

“Wanna go sit outside for a bit then?”

Kei glances into the living room where the group chatters away. He’d hate to be stopped on the way.

“Relax,” you laugh. “They’re so caught up they won’t even notice that we’re gone.”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and then shrugs, swallowing his heart down with the spit that has pooled in his mouth. He follows you out of the front door, shutting it with a quiet click and heading down the steps of the complex and to the concrete wall lining the shrubbery outside. It’s the same place you’d come back to talk to him at all those weeks ago, though he is in considerably better spirits than he was then.

It’s a cool night, the gentle heat of the day completely burned off to make way for a crisp breeze. He inhales, wishing that he had brought a drink to fiddle with and sip on to distract him from his nerves.

You sit beside him, leaning back on your palms with your legs outstretched in front of you. Your hand is only a few inches from his and Kei sucks in a breath when he accidentally touches it while he gets comfortable. You only offer him a little smile in response.

“Sorry again about bringing the troops here,” you speak first.

“That’s really okay,” he says. “Contrary to popular belief, I actually really like them.”

You snort. “I hope so.”

Kei inhales louder than he intends to and when you look at him like he’s going to say something, he just holds his breath and shakes his head. The air only leaves him when you finally look away.

“Kind of a bummer though,” you start, “I was kinda excited about just hanging out with you.”

Kei’s breath catches in his throat. He swallows to move the metaphorical blockage.

“We hang out all the time though,” he says like it’s enough. Of course it’s not enough.

“Guess so,” you smile a little, though Kei can hear the distinct turn of disappointment in your voice.

“You know,” he starts, already embarrassed at what he’s going to admit. “I wanted to be your friend for a while.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile, opening up again and turning towards him. “Why?”

Kei shrugs, resisting the urge to shut down completely. It’s embarrassing admitting to someone that you wanted to know them before you actually knew them.

“You kind of reminded me of Tadashi,” he says. “And you both got along so well.”

“Tadashi? I’m nothing like Tadashi,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What? No, you two are so similar,” Kei insists, lacing his fingers together.

“What about us is so similar?”

“Well, you’re both sociable and warm and…” Kei trails off. He can’t really think of anything else. You look at him with an expectant look in your eyes.

“See?”

Kei realizes that the two of you are not similar at all. Your warmth is where the similarity stops. He’d been likening you to Tadashi this entire time, not because the two of you are similar, but because you make him feel similar to the way Tadashi does. Safe and comfortable, though with the added addition of deeply awkward. He realizes that without the safety net of you being like Tadashi, he’s never had any ability to deny his feelings and with that they rage full force around the corner and slam into his chest like a heavy blow.

“We’re nothing like each other,” you laugh and lean back against your palms. “Though, it would be cool to be like Tadashi.”

Kei experiences the sudden realization that he doesn’t want you to be like Tadashi. Kei wants you to be like him. He wants you to be greedy and want him the same way he wants you. He wants you to be able to keep up with his turns and his moods, something he didn’t realize he wanted in the first place. If you’re like Kei, then Kei doesn’t have to be afraid of showing you the worst. You’ll have already seen it. If you’re like Kei and he loves you, then what is stopping you from loving him?

“Even if you’re not like Tadashi, that’s fine.” His cheeks burn.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I like you all the same,” he admits quietly.

“The same? As Tadashi?” You purse your lips a little. “I thought I was a little different. Was I wrong?”

Kei wants to kiss you. Kei wants to kiss you so badly that his mouth has gone dry and his lips feel like they’ve separated from his body. Anything he’d thought about not wanting anything with you flies out of the window with your proximity. You’re so close to him. Close enough that if he leaned a little to the right, his shoulder would be against yours. You’re so close and you’re looking at him like you’re waiting for something, implying that somehow you’re different from Tadashi. Implying that you want him to like you differently than the way he likes his platonic friend.

“No, you’re different,” he says, taking the bait you’ve laid in front of him. His heart pounds and he can’t look at you. He thinks he’ll kiss you if he does.

“Am I?”

Kei can hear the smile in your voice. It makes what you’re saying sound honeyed and curved.

“Yeah, you are.”

“How so?”

Kei finally raises his head to look at you. You’re grinning, leaning towards him like you’re watching a show. He feels the way his nerves rise into his throat, pressing against the very back of his tongue. He doesn’t know how to answer or what to say. Well, he does know what to say, he just doesn’t think he can. Kei is good at thinking about emotions, but when it comes time to speak them outloud, it seems that he’s still got a padlock around his throat. So he does what any logical person would do.

Kei leans forward, pushing against his screaming nerves and trying to ignore the tremble in his hands, and kisses you. It’s awkward and his teeth click against yours before his lips fully settle against your mouth. He feels the breath you draw in, like surprise and relief mixed together, and he finds that he does the same.

He can see the way your eyes flutter closed through his barely open ones and he realizes that your lips are so warm. He screws his eyes shut when you dip your head forward to move your lips against his. Yours are so warm and soft, like satin. A kiss has never felt like this to Kei before and he finds that he wants to catalog every single one of your reactions. Maybe that’s what he could write in the notebook. Maybe he could write down every single thing that you do that leaves him winded and wanting more.

Neither of you reach for the other, but he can feel the knuckle of your pinky against his as you slowly kiss each other, tilting your heads side to side. There’s hunger within him, the need to take more than what he’s receiving and a greed he isn’t quite familiar with, but there’s also romance. It’s like a spell that’s yet to be broken, fed by the click of your mouths as they move together. Kei sighs, flooded with the relief of this kind of physical affection, of being honest with himself at how much he likes it. Kei loves the feel of your mouth. He loves the way your lips and tongue feel and he loves that they’re all that he can feel right now.

The kiss lasts longer than Kei thought it would and by the time he pulls away, you’re both steadily panting and attempting to keep your breathing even. He wants to do it again. He wants it so badly that it makes his chest swell. He wants to do that with you forever, but he swallows down the desire. It’s a temporary fix, but it’s enough for him to choke out what it is he wants to say next.

“I think I’m in really hot water,” he squeaks.

“What do you mean?” You breathe out, the playfulness from a few moments earlier long behind you.

“I think I want you way more than I thought I did,” he admits quietly, the first out loud admittance of his feelings to you.

You smile a little before speaking. “I think it’s only hot water if the other person doesn’t feel the same way.”

Your face is still so close to his. “Yeah?”

It comes out a bit desperate, like he needs reassurance. Kei does. He’s so afraid that he thinks he could die. Afraid of the spell breaking, afraid of losing whatever moment this is and being forced to return to his one-sided pining, afraid that you don’t feel the same way.

Your face moves closer to him, breath trembling lightly. “Yeah.”

You kiss him again, pressing your lips against his lightly before parting them. He’s so overwhelmed and so immediately lost in it. Kei feels the way your tongue teases the inside of his mouth and it makes him feel like a teenager again, swelling with desires and emotions that he can’t name. You move your hand over his, placing it lightly on top of his, and he reacts by lacing your fingers together and pushing forward more.

Kei wants to touch you so badly, to reach up and hold your face, to touch your waist and your legs and your chest. He wants to do it all, to feel you right here under the cover of night, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kisses you and stews in the desire, letting it swell in his chest as he listens to the clicking of your mouths. You kiss him so slowly, moving your mouth at a languid pace. It drives him crazy. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this.

“We should go back inside, I think,” you break away, your bottom lip shiny with a sheen of spit. “The others might think something’s up and Tanaka isn’t exactly good with discretion.”

Kei automatically reaches up to swipe it with his thumb. He doesn’t know where this affection comes from, where the possessive action found its origins, but he finds that he likes the way it feels to be able to do it in the first place.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Kei responds, though he would have been happy to continue sitting out here with you, kissing you silly.

You stand first, dusting off the back of your legs and waiting for Kei to follow suit. When he does, you reach quickly for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze before walking in front of him.

Kei is not sure how he should act when he goes inside. He’s tense all over, desperate to pick up where the two of you left off, and unsure if his face betrays that thought.

“Where’d you guys go?” Tadashi asks as Kei closes the door behind him.

In the time you’d both been gone, the living room has been transformed into something nearly unrecognizable. Empty beer cans are strewn about the tables and the blankets and pillows from the couches are now haphazardly laying around beside the couch or over people’s bodies. Then again, maybe the room always looked like this and he was just too busy thinking about how close you were to him.

Kei doesn’t know what to say. Why had they gone outside in the first place? He’s not even sure that he remembers.

“I wanted a cigarette and I made Kei come with me,” you answer evenly. “Why? You jealous?”

“Of inhaling second-hand smoke? No, thanks.” Tadashi laughs, but he tosses Kei a sideways glance. Tadashi knows him well enough to know that Kei wouldn’t voluntarily stand outside with a smoker unless he was particularly fond of them.

“Aw, man, I thought you quit?” Hinata pipes up, tilting his head.

“I did, hot stuff,” you respond, sitting down on the couch. “Don’t worry. I won’t smoke anymore.”

Hinata huffs and Kei takes the opportunity to sit down next to you.

His thigh is pressed against yours, warmth seeping through his pants and into his skin. Kei feels like he could explode. You’re so close to him again, closer than before, and he can’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. He’s desperate for it, fidgety with his desire. He keeps thinking about the hot press of your mouth and the languid motion of your tongue. All he can imagine is the few points of contact between you both, mouth and hands, and how badly he wanted it to be more. He needs it.

You touch him a few times throughout the night and the tension is so palpable that Kei is convinced he can see it. It’s like there is a rope pulled taut between the two of you. If he doesn’t stick his ground, he’ll go flying towards you, grabbing and touching and taking in the way he’s desperate to now.

After an hour, his friends begin to grow restless. Their faces are flushed with alcohol and the things they’d been amusing themselves with are no longer enough stimulation.

“Hey, we’re going out to the bars. Who’s coming?” Hinata speaks up.

A chorus of agreement rings out, but the last thing Kei wants to do is go out.

“I think I’ll probably stay back and start cleaning,” he says somewhat disdainfully. “It’s a mess in here,” Kei tosses you a small glance. It’s unintentional but he’s glad for it because Kei is hoping that you’ll stay back with him, that you both can pick up where you left off.

“I’ll stay and help too. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow anyway,” you smile and Hinata pouts.

“You guys are so boring,” he protests. “Leave the mess for tomorrow and come out with us.”

“I’ll pass, pipsqueak,” Kei scoffs.

“Fine, but don’t complain to me when you’re full of regret tomorrow,” he points a finger at Kei and then moves it over to you. “And you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Do you hear that?” You say, beginning to usher the group to the door. “I think it’s the sound of the bar and all that alcohol calling to you guys.”

“You guys are so full of shit-” Kageyama starts, speaking up for the first time in a while, but Kei just waves him out.

“Yeah yeah, let the grown ups clean while you guys have fun. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The rope is so taut between you both that it’s unbearable and by the time the door closes, you are spinning around on your heel toward Kei.

“We’re not cleaning, right?”

Kei shakes his head and starts towards you. The tension breaks when his hands find your hips and he hungrily leans down to press his mouth against yours.

This kiss is different from the first, desperate and full of desire. It’s fast and your mouths move together quickly as he starts to walk you back towards his bedroom, his hands eagerly roaming up and down your hips. Vaguely, he acknowledges that his glasses have been moved out of place, but he pays it no mind as you turn the knob to his bedroom door with your back to it.

There’s an urgency to his movements. Kei feels it in his chest, this desperate desire to be closer, to consume everything that you’ve laid out in the palm of his hand. You stumble backwards into his room and Kei catches your shifted weight with a hand around your waist. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, feeling the warm skin on your jaw and neck. His fingers tremble where they touch you, half out of desperate need and half out of the nerves that threaten to spill from his mouth. His lips though, are occupied with yours, clicking together, all tongue and teeth.

Kei kisses sloppily down your jaw, his lips smearing across your cheek and dipping down below your ear. He sucks a trail there, unsure if he’s leaving marks, all the way down to your collarbone. Every part of you tastes better than he’d expected it to and with every push he delivers, you pull.

You make small sounds, little pants and groans that make Kei’s hair stand on end with wanting. Your voice, so familiar and fond to him, spills out in small, breath-like bursts that make Kei want to coax more out of you. Kei’s never been one to want this way, but right now, it’s all that he feels. So much tension and impulse that he feels like he can hardly control himself.

You reach blindly behind you for the bed and Kei guides you down, placing his hand on one side of you as you sit. Then, without disconnecting your lips, he guides you up toward the wall.

He feels the cool tips of your fingers at the hem of his shirt, pulling downward and then upward to get him to take it off. Kei obliges you, leaning back on his knees and pulling it off over the top of his head. You eye him for a moment, the two of you slowing down enough as the urgency settles into something heavy and lingering.

Kei leans forward again, one of his hands reaching for your hip. He slips his fingers underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding his long fingers up your stomach as he kisses you again. You’re so soft and he can feel the way your chest heaves against his palm. His touch is feather light and he slides it up evenly until it reaches just below your breast. When you nod, Kei moves it up over your bra and he feels you shudder. Kei does the same, overwhelmed by your pliability.

He can feel the goosebumps that have raised on your skin, little pinpricks of skin that indicate that some part of you feels good. When Kei squeezes your breast, you gasp into his moan and he groans his response, letting you bite at his bottom lip.

He feels you suck at his lips and swipe your tongue along the ridge of his mouth. When he opens it to let you in, he’s overtaken by the warmth of the soft muscle. He groans, tilting his head down to kiss you deeper, letting the taste of you spread over his mouth. It’s hot and your breath fans across his face.

Kei hands drift from your breasts along the sides of your body. He feels the heave of your breath there against your warm skin, his palms resting on your waist. You raise your knees, the sides of them pressing against Kei’s hips. He shifts downwards slowly, dragging his mouth along your skin, past the cloth of your shirt.

His hands make their way from your waist to your hips as he dips lower. Kei takes off his glasses, already fogged up and in the way. When he meets your eyes, you nod your permission and Kei slips between your legs, his flat palms moving to spread your thighs.

You’re so warm and soft, so pliable in a way that Kei can’t articulate. It makes his mouth water with his desperation and he’s grown hard against the bedspread beneath him.

“Touch me,” you breathe out.

Kei nods into your stomach, looping his fingers around our waistband, and pulls down your pants. Your panties come with it and it’s with a slight wave of regret that he realizes he won’t get to see the way you stick to them.

When he sees you, his heart leaps into his throat. His eagerness and his nerves catch up to him and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. You shudder when the air hits your exposed cunt, an unintentional side effect of Kei’s nerves that has him grinding down against the bedspread.

He slides his palm to rest over your center. It’s warm and sticky, wet beyond what Kei had imagined and he gingerly presses a finger between your folds. You gasp, mouth falling open above him. Then, he slides his finger into you to the first knuckle, curling up. Kei goes deeper on the second pump, curling his whole finger inside of you and feeling the way you tighten around him.

You arch your back up off the bed and Kei groans and rolls his eyes, resting his head on the inside of your exposed thigh. He curls his fingers in you, watching the way they coat with your pleasure. His eyebrows are knit together, like he’s asking whether you like how he touches you or not, and you seem to pick up on his insecurity, nodding your head before letting it tip back against Kei’s pillows.

Kei thinks your expression is incredible. Your eyebrows pull up in the center, pretty face twisted and mouth slightly open in an expression of undeniable pleasure. Kei’s stomach winds at the look of it and he ruts his hips against the mattress to quell the growing ache of need. His fingers, which curl at a slow and even pace inside of you, are warm with your enjoyment. It leaks between his knuckles, sliding down the back of his hand like a slow moving syrup. He wonders whether you have more to give and how you taste, his gaze slinking from your face to the place just above where his fingers disappear.

He lowers his mouth to you without thinking, curious and needing the taste of it. Sure enough, you have more to give. Your voice comes quickly, a small gasp that is stifled by the back of your hand when he sucks sharply on your clit. Your hips push forward against his hands and then you arch up off the mattress with a small cry. Kei wonders if you’ve cum. He wonders if he’s sent you over the edge, but if he has, you’re taking all of it so well that he doesn’t dare stop.

The taste of you spreads on his tongue, tangy and warm. You invade his senses violently, like you are gripping his throat. Kei holds his mouth to you, pressing the length of his cock into the mattress and moving his hips like he plans to fuck it.

He moves his free hand down your thigh and onto the inside of your leg. Your skin is so soft. It’s so vulnerable, something easily pierced and bled. Kei’s pointer finger rubs gentle circles there, feeling the slight pull of the soft skin with his fingers, so thin that it almost feels like tissue paper. He’s sure that with a little pressure, you would bruise.

The thought surprises him. He works his tongue across your clit and his fingers against that gummy spot inside of you, but his mind drifts to the softness of your inner thigh, the way it would be so easy to leave a spot that might hurt later when you press on it, remind you of exactly where he was. Then, Kei pinches you on the inside of your thigh and when you cry out, tightening around his fingers with a tapered moan, he pinches you again, harder this time.

You whimper slightly, like you like it. No, you sound like you love it and Kei finds himself holding back a choked moan as he tries not to cum prematurely. He pinches along the inside of your legs and around the back. Not too much. Only when he feels like it. Only when he wants to hear what kind of sounds you’ll make.

“K-Kei wait, wait,” you pant, grabbing him by his tufts of blonde hair. It hurts. He doesn’t think you mean to hurt him, but it doesn’t matter. He likes it and he twitches in his pants.

“Huh?” He hums, detaching from your clit and slowing the movement of his fingers to a halt. Your legs shake around his handiwork. “You okay?”

“I’ll cum if you keep going like that,” you breathe, screwing your eyes shut like you’re still on the edge. “Drag it out for me, yeah?”

Kei furrows his eyebrows and sucks in a sharp breath.

“Cum if you want to.” He tilts his head down to reattach his lips.

“Not yet,” you tug at his hair. “I like chasing it.”

Kei stares at you, unblinking and awestruck. Your chest heaves and despite the pleasure on your face, you look uncomfortable as your orgasm slips away from you. Kei likes that look on your face and he finds himself growing greedy.

“Come here,” you coax him onto the mattress.

Kei watches as you slip your hands into the waistband of his jeans and pull them down, leaving him on his back with his tented boxers exposed. You crawl down his body and settle between his legs with your arms between his thighs. He shudders when you run your hands up them and he briefly sees his boxers jump.

You smile, pressing your mouth to him through his boxers. Kei can’t stifle the groan that escapes him and heat floods his face when you raise your eyebrows in response.

“You don’t have to,” he says through gritted teeth as you slip the waistband of his boxers down.

“But I want to,” you mumble, taking him in your hand and placing a kiss on the side of his dick.

Kei’s head falls back against the pillow and he swears under his breath when he feels the warmth of your mouth close around the tip of him. He jerks his head up to see, awestruck by the way your lips look around the head of his cock.

For some reason, Kei is already so sensitive. He feels everything, and when you swipe the tip of your tongue along his slit as you bob your head, he makes a noise he didn’t think he could make. His fingers knot themselves in the bed sheets, white knuckled and trembling while you bob your head over him.

Your mouth is so warm and wet. It’s a little messy, dripping down the length of him and onto his balls. Kei feels the warmth, the heat of you. He can still taste you on his tongue. Kei can still feel the stickiness left behind from your arousal on his mouth. The combination of you between his legs and the taste of you on his tongue is overwhelming.

Kei can feel his orgasm growing in his lower stomach, turning over until he’s bringing his long fingers to your head in an effort to steady himself. There’s nothing he can do but give in, watching you through damp eyes as you watch his expression.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he cums. It doesn’t take long and he teeters on the edge for a few moments before fully cresting over. Kei can’t help the way he lifts his hips from the mattress, his voice caught in his throat as it hooks on a high pitched groan. His voice cracks and he feels the way his cum collects on your tongue and across the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, red faced and panting, “I didn’t mean to- I didn’t mean to finish so quickly, you’re just-”

“It’s fine,” you come up, your eyes glassed over and lust-filled. “I like making you feel good.”

“Yeah but-”

“No buts,” you crawl over him and straddle his waist. Kei winces when your weight briefly nudges his cock. “There’s still fun to be had. Can I kiss you?”

He nods and you lean down to do as you’d asked. Your tongue moves slowly against his, less desperate this time, like you’re trying to work him down and back up again. You place your hands on his chest, settling your weight down so that your bare cunt is pressed against his sensitive cock. Kei thinks he might die.

He brings his hands to your waist, the fatigue creeping from his bones as he digs the pads of his fingers into your fleshy sides. You draw in a breath when he does and it makes Kein feel like he’s tipping sideways with arousal. Everything that you do, right down to the involuntary twitch of your hips or eyebrows, is sexy.

Kei turns you over, growing hard between your legs again, and gently pins you to the mattress. He kisses you for a moment longer, his lips working clumsily across yours before he pulls away to catch his breath and find his bearings.

You chase him with your mouth, tilting your head up to kiss him. Kei feels his chest swell with arousal and his cock strains almost painfully against his pants as he peers at you. You’re so pretty. Everything about you is so pretty. On his chest, he can feel your fingers, splayed over his pecks, across his collarbone, and grazing the side of his neck. He leans closer, loving the pressure of your body and the desperation that pours from your skin.

Kei kisses you again. He kisses you the way he wanted to outside, dipping his tongue into your mouth with a desperation that he can taste. You take control back, reaching between the two of you, and Kei shifts himself upward instinctually to give you access to him. He feels your fingers fumble for him and there’s a pause in which Kei doesn’t know what to do. He wonders if this might be the part of him that you like. The awkward part, the one that doesn’t know what to do. Kei’s thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of your hand wrapping around him and tugging upward.

His head drops and a low groan escapes his lips before he can even think to stop it. Kei’d almost forgotten his sensitivity, how desperately he wants to be touched, how overwhelming it feels. He shivers, looking down at where your hand wraps around him and pumps. When he looks back up, he finds that you’re looking at his face, your eyes glassed over and observant as you commit all of his expressions to memory.

“What?” he says, letting out a shuddering breath and the slight overstimulation.

“Your face is red,” you reach up with your free hand to run your thumb along his cheek.

Kei huffs, dropping his head and you fiddle with something between the two of you.

“No,” you pick his chin up. “I like it. It’s cute.”

You tighten your grip around him and Kei feels his expression twist, a new rush of heat and desire flooding his belly as he realizes you’re sliding a condom onto him. Then, you guide the tip of him between your legs and he feels the wet press of your entrance against him.

“Christ,” he groans.

You smile slightly, shifting your hips a little and then placing your hands on his shoulders. Kei pushes forward slowly, his thighs twitching. It takes everything he has to keep from cumming again and every muscle in his body screams with a desire to let go.

Kei is so overwhelmed, partially because you feel so good, but also because there is some part of him that knows this feels different. Kei feels different about you, about being intimate with you, than he has with anyone else. There’s something alive in him, something with its own mind. Something greedy and vulnerable that stirs when your face is this close to him, when he’s buried all the way in you to the base of his cock. Emotional and sensitive, Kei feels it kick.

His first instinct is to run. Agreeing to let himself like you, to let himself do something about it, was not agreeing to letting something live inside of him. Kei’s first thought when he registers the difference is to cut it off and suffocate it so that it stops thumping against his chest. He’d grown so used to the hollow feeling that the feeling of living emotion makes him nervous, it puts him on edge. But when he pulls out a few inches and fucks back into you, the anxiety dispels into insurmountable pleasure. A pleasure Kei can’t describe, something fulfilling and whole.

He picks up his pace, letting himself do what he wants while you grip his shoulders with blunted nails. He likes the expression you wear. Truthfully, he likes all of your expressions, but this one is new. Pressure and pleasure, a newness to the feel of him inside of you that you can’t quite keep from your eyes or lips. He kisses you as if he could taste it, slipping his tongue between your lips.

“I really like you,” you mumble against his mouth, breath hot as it fans across his cheeks.

Kei’s heart hammers and his hips stutter a little.

“Me too,” he chokes, trying to think about volleyball to stave off a second orgasm. All that comes to mind though, is you.

“Are you close again?” you breathe, voice laden with pleasure.

“I have been since we started,” Kei admits.

“Cum then,” you say softly, reaching behind his head to pull his mouth back to yours. Kei likes the control you exhibit. He groans his approval.

“You first,” he mutters.

There’s this possessive part of Kei that wants to watch you fall apart on him. He wants to see it, to watch you feel good too and commit it to memory so that he can always keep it. He thinks it’s a pride thing, something attached to his desire to succeed, to his reliability. Maybe though, it’s just because he thinks it’ll look hot.

He reaches down and lifts one of your legs up by the back of your knee, pressing it down to give himself better access. You whine and Kei feels the way you clench down around him, your fingers knitting into the hair at the back of his neck. It hurts in a good way.

Kei slips his hand between you, rubbing circles on your clit to get you there faster. Frankly, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last like this, staring down at your face while it twists with pleasure. You’re so attractive to him. Everything about you is sexy. It makes Kei a little crazy.

He listens as your breathing quickens, as your voice wavers further. He feels the way your cunt begins to flutter faster, pulsing around him until you attempt to cry out and warn him. Then, you clamp down around him, arching your hips up off the mattress and pulling at his hair. Kei moves his head with you, relishing in the way you tug and scratch.

He builds up to his orgasm so fast that it hurts. There’s pressure and then the mounting feeling of nearing the top, and then the peak and crash. He cums so hard that it hurts, pushing his cock as far as it will go into you and feeling the warm spill of his cum in the condom. He moans a long, drawn out sound that you mimic, his fingers knitting into the pillow behind you and his head dropping so that his lips sit near your neck.

He lets out a shaky breath, letting himself sit inside of you for a moment. You turn his head towards yours and kiss him. It’s gentle. A smooth and languid kiss that neither of you moves to deepen. Your lips move against each other and Kei closes his eyes to savor the taste.

You tap his shoulder and Kei rolls over onto the bed beside you, snapping the condom off with a small wince and tying it up in a quick motion. He places it in the trash bin beside the bed. When he turns over, you’re already moving to slip under his arm, resting your head on his chest.

There’s a passing moment of silence, not unlike the ones you both have fallen into before and you sigh lightly against his exposed chest. Kei follows suit, watching the way you move with his breath.

His skin is sticky against yours and Kei can vaguely register the smell of sweat in the room. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since everyone left, nor does he know when they’ll be back, but he estimates that it won’t be more than an hour. Kei briefly wishes that he could pause time so that he can stay here with you, just like this.

“I’m not good at this kind of stuff,” Kei admits quietly.

“What stuff?” You ask, tracing your finger along the ridges of his lean abdomen.

“Liking people,” he says. “Dating.”

You give a small laugh. “No offense, Kei, but I could tell that from the moment I met you.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Duh,” you breathe out. “It’s a little charming to me, though. I like that part of you.”

So it’s true. You like the parts of Kei that he’s always worried were the worst of him.

“Huh,” he says. “Could you tell?”

“That you like me?” You ask, shifting your head to look at him. “Yeah, it was obvious after we established that you didn’t hate me. I always noticed you staring in the library.”

“Really? I thought I was being a little slick with that,” Kei feels heat and color flood his face.

You let out a good-natured laugh. “People can always tell when someone’s staring, Kei. It’s like a sixth sense.”

“Good to know. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.”

Another bout of silence follows.

“You can keep staring though,” you say, “if you want to. And calling.”

“Okay,” Kei responds, “I didn’t really plan on stopping.”

“Ha, freaky,” you laugh a little and Kei reaches up to flick the side of your head. “Wanna start going out?”

Kei thinks about this for a moment. He thinks about being able to hold your hand, brush hair out of your face, watch movies on the couch and fix your breakfast the next morning. Then he thinks about not being able to do those things.

“I think I’d be a little upset if we didn’t,” he admits.

“Good,” you say. “Me too.”

He’s fighting off sleep. His eyelids are heavy and he tries to blink away the shroud of rest that’s falling over him. Kei knows you’re fighting it too. Your breathing goes in and out of that familiar breathing that comes with sleep. Kei likes the way it sounds coming from you, restful and quiet.

“We should… really get up to clean just a little,” he mumbles.

“Five more minutes,” you say softly, your voice heavy and laden with drowsiness.

“Okay,” he says.

It’s just five more minutes. Kei fights sleep to hear you breathe like this a little longer.

—

There’s a period after which Kei doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like the awkward start to a new hobby or passion, Kei finds himself enthralled with his budding relationship while simultaneously stumbling continuously along the way. You’re gracious with him though, letting him make mistakes and fumble until he finds his footing.

It’s all very awkward for him, very new. He finds that it’s easier to just do the nice things he wants to do for you than to agonize over it and slowly, he begins to grow comfortable in the relationship that took you both so long to begin.

At first, only Tadashi knew about you both. Kei thought that there was no point in hiding it from him, since you were over at the apartment all the time. Of course, Tadashi somehow already knew. That’s how it usually goes anyway, and Kei is relieved to find that his internal change did not trigger some global shift that would turn his life upside down. Everything is normal, save for the fact that Kei now tries to love without hindrance.

Kei discovers that he’s possessive. That’s a new trait of his that he didn’t know belonged to him. Before you, before Kei had found something he so desperately wanted to keep, he’d been rather detached. Possessiveness was rare because Kei hardly ever got attached enough to want. Now though, he wants so badly that it hurts. You lean into it. Kei suspects that you like it when he wards off people who hit on you, when he pouts a little because he wants to be close to you, when he gets a little jealous. Kei doesn’t really mind it either. After all, despite his possessiveness, he never feels insecure. The both of you make sure of that.

This sunny period with you, the one Kei worried would only last a week, drifts easily from one month into two and before he knows it, it’s been five. Kei had worried about that fundamental change. The one imperceivable to the human eye. He’d worried that slowly, it would begin to spoil what is so good between the two of you.

“Kei,” you snap him out of it, placing a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?”

He sets down his cup of tea, barely touched. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?” You give him a wry smile. “This was your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, well it was a pretty shit idea actually,” he breathes, “My parents aren’t exactly easy.”

“You want to cancel?” You ask, your eyebrows pulling up in a clumsy attempt to hide your disappointment. Kei can see right through it.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I want you to meet them. I just don’t want you to meet them.”

The truth of it is that Kei would like to cancel. In an ideal world, one where the sun rises on the opposite side of his bedroom window, he’d forget the whole thing and take you out to get dinner and see a movie. Things would be simpler that way, less uncomfortable for the both of you. But as uncomfortable as it is, Kei wants you to be a part of their lives too. You’re too important to not introduce to his parents and Kei can’t see it any other way, though he’d like to.

You snort. “What does that even mean?”

Kei gives you a pointed and somewhat irritated look.

“Okay, sorry,” you raise your hands defensively and walk over to place them on his shoulders. “I know you’re worried, but I think it’s going to be okay. I’m excited.”

Kei huffs out a laugh, unable to vocalize his nerves in their totality. “Excited to meet my dysfunctional, divorced parents that kind of hate each other?”

“Yup. I’m excited to meet the people who raised you.”

Kei smiles a little. “You should meet Akiteru, then,” It’s an exaggeration, but for some reason the prospect of seeing both of his parents together has him feeling a little more bitter than usual, even if it was his idea.

You give him a little grin through narrowed eyes. There’s an understanding that passes from you to him, like you’re acknowledging that you haven’t forgotten what he’d told you nearly six months ago. Kei feels the tension in his shoulders relax a little.

His parents are already at the restaurant when he arrives. It’s a swanky Italian place. The kind you go to on birthdays or for anniversaries, where the pasta dishes are things like lobster mushroom ravioli or truffle oil fettucini in tiny portions. Kei made sure to book somewhere that his parents would have trouble making a scene in, not that they ever had much of a mind for decorum when they were married. He’s surprised to find them chatting cordially when you both arrive.

“Kei,” his mother stands from the table and crosses to give him a hug. He pats her back gently.

“Hi Mom,” Kei responds and she gives him a small smile.

Kei’s dad adjusts the lapel of his suit, the same one he’s had for years, and reaches to give him a hug around one shoulder.

“Guys,” he inhales, “This is my partner, _____.”

You grin at Kei and then introduce yourself formally to his parents. Kei watches in awe as you blend right in, like you’ve known them for many years. He sits down while trying to keep the nerves from his face.

“We’re so happy to meet you,” his mother starts, “Kei’s never introduced us to any of his partners before.”

“I’m the first?” You smile a little, raising an eyebrow at Kei as if to tease him.

“There really haven’t been that many to begin with,” Kei grumbles as if that somehow makes it better.

You laugh again and the ball of conversation begins rolling. His mother tells you how pretty you are and his father nods a quieter approval. They talk about his university’s graduation ceremony, which they attended separately, as if they were together the entire time and then ask about your major, if you graduated with him, where you plan on going. You tell them what you want to do and that you want to go wherever Kei goes. He marvels at how smoothly the evening moves onward.

There are moments where the tension in his family becomes obvious. Little swells or comments that bring up a sour or shameful memory that cannot be ignored. Moments when the air thickens and it feels like the hammer is about to come down. It never does though. The tension, rather than snapping, simply fades away.

He’d expected everything to blow up for some reason. Kei had expected that, like his childhood, the restaurant dishes would end up smashed on the floor. The glassware always ended up broken in the house, why shouldn’t they be broken here to shatter the illusion of things being good? He braces himself for a ball that never drops.

It takes him until the ride home, after a successful dinner, to realize that the dishes haven’t been smashed in years. Not since he was fourteen and his parents fought for custody. Not since his mother got remarried to her now husband almost 6 years ago and his father met his new wife. Kei wonders why he still feels like he lives in that house. The one his parents were at their worst in. Why can’t he feel like he lives in the apartment he rents with Tadashi?

“I think that went well,” you say softly on the drive back.

Kei nods his agreement. “I think so too.”

You don’t bring up the fact that they didn’t fight, or that they spoke about their new kids with each other as if they were old friends. You don’t accuse Kei of being wrong, of being paranoid even though he most definitely was.

“I’m glad that I got to meet them,” you say. “You look so much like your mom.”

“Really?” Kei asks.

“Yeah, you’ve got her eyes and her nose,” you smile a little. “It makes you two look similar.”

“Huh,” he says. “I never really gave that much thought.”

Kei turns the idea that he has his mother’s face over in his head. He’d spent so much time dreading that he was like them on the inside, that he never paused to consider the outside. So much of his life has been spent worrying that he’s just like them. That he breaks the plates and lashes out and acts cruelly even when he’s trying to love. But he has his mother’s eyes and for some reason that unsettles him. It’s like evidence.

“You don’t really act like them though,” you say as if on cue. “You’re a little gentler.”

“Me? Gentle?” Kei scoffs.

“Yeah!” you say. “I mean, sure you’re prickly, but there’s a goodness to you that’s really obvious if you look.”

Goodness. What a strange word to use to describe someone. Kei thinks that if there’s any goodness in him, if there’s anything that hasn’t been tainted by his parents’ sour personalities, it’s from Akiteru. Kei likes to believe that whatever good he got was from him. No matter how strained his relationship with him might be now, Kei is certain of that.

“That’s a relief,” he admits in a flat tone.

After a long pause, he speaks again. “Thanks.”

“For what?” You laugh.

“Bearing with me… and with them,” he says. “Couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was easy,” you say. “Because I wanted to meet them. And I care about you.”

Kei feels color rise to his cheeks. He turns to look in the sideview mirrors as he pulls the car into a parking spot in his apartment complex’s garage.

“You say that stuff so easily,” he huffs.

“What? That I care about you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I do,” you laugh a little.

Kei’s face grows hotter and he distracts himself by putting the car into park and taking the key out of the ignition.

“Me too,” he says quietly, waiting for you to catch up so that he can take your hand in his. “Sorry that I don’t say it a lot.”

“Not to be rude,” you say, “but even if you never said it at all, it would be obvious. You’re kind of a sucker.”

Kei supposes that that’s true and he gives a small laugh before nudging your shoulder with his. The parking garage is humid and stuffy, but he holds your hand in it anyway.

—

You’re half asleep in bed beside him and your breathing comes in even sweeps the way it does just before you fall asleep. Kei listens to it for a moment, admiring the sound of it and the way your chest feels expanding against his.

He thinks about dinner, about how good it feels to have introduced you. How real it makes this relationship feel despite the uneasiness surrounding his familial situation. Kei thinks about his parents. He thinks about their inability to be good for each other. He thinks about the worst of them, something he’s familiar with, before thinking about the best of them. Kei imagines the way their faces looked at dinner, talking about the children they’re raising properly. They’re good people, they just made each other bad. Molecular shifts that changed them for the worst. The notebook theory in its most frightening form. But they were good too.

Kei thinks about loving you. His reluctance to do so originally isn’t quite beyond him yet. He’s unsure, in fact, if he’ll ever really get past the fear of the fall, the fear of becoming what his parents made each other. But he also thinks about his promise to love you for real. Love is not something that Kei does. He knows now that it's something that happens to him, like it happened to his parents. They loved each other once, even if it made them so blind that they couldn’t see just how bad it made them.

Kei still resents the fact that he was born to fix a marriage that never would have worked in the first place. He resents being a fix rather than a gift, but at the very least, his existence is proof that his parents cared enough about their family to try. Even if it was misguided, at least they tried even a little.

In the quiet after of an emotionally charged evening, loving you seems like an easier task for him now. It’s not hard to love you. What’s hard, Kei thinks, is not hurting you. He carries a lot of baggage that, for a long while, felt like too much. Kei thinks he can manage if it’s for you. He’ll bear the brunt of it. He’ll put in the work.

Yes, Kei is his parents’ son, but he’s also Tadashi’s friend, Akiteru’s brother, the person who loves you. He doesn’t live in the house with a bin full of shards and no glassware anymore.

“Are you awake?” He whispers across the pillow.

“Mhm,” you hum, pushing your cheek into his arm.

“Let’s move in together,” he says.

You tense against him and slowly attempt to blink away sleep. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he responds. “I want to live with you.”

“Okay then,” you smile a little. “Let’s do it.”

—

In the fall, when his lease with Tadashi ends and his friend gives him a tearful, yet somewhat silly goodbye, Kei moves into your new shared apartment. Two small rooms in a modest part of town, a shared kitchen and living room, one bathroom, a mismatch of furniture from both of your old places, and an empty fridge. The first night is spent eating take out on the floor with you in front of a TV with no proper stand. Kei has never been happier.

And in the morning, when the sun comes through the slats of his window, broken up into gentle dots by the orange-leaved trees outside, Kei rises slowly. He rises gently. Kei doesn’t want to wake you, not before he’s made breakfast. He pads out to the kitchen, where boxes are strewn about, half unpacked, and grabs the little brown notebook from the box it’s been temporarily living in. In it, he writes a grocery list full of the things you like. It’s a good enough reason, a good enough change.

The notebook theory.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader smut #tsukishima kei x reader smut #hq x reader #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima kei fic #[ 📕 – writing ]#she is finally finished i hope u enjoy and that u find it romantic and fulfilling #tw: overstimulation #i may add more warnings and such if i remember to #and pls lmk if i forgot any

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rodolfoparras · 3 months

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we talk a lot about the characters being "loser boyfailures" and having no game and being rizless but think about the reader being that. guy in his thirties, no relationship ever, negative riz, absolutely no game, my man cannot speak to people without making 13 grammatical mistakes just an absolute pathetic wet dog vibes....

and the 141 boys could not want him more. they're absolutely head over heels for their loser boyfriend. i imagine Simon sees him bump into a chair and apologise to it and he's jumping his bones right then and there. pretty boy Kyle Gaz Garrick never goes anywhere without bringing his wet dog of a man with him. people are wondering how that happened and if he's blackmailing him, he gets very offended and sassy on his boyfriends behalf and when you're back home he rants to him about stupid people while milking his loser dick. Soap is just.... he's just himself the bigger the loser the more he wants the man. his boyfriend fucks up an interraction or fails at something and looks so wet and pathetic that he just has to put his dick in his mouth idk what to say Soap loves his loser boyfriends cock and when he tries and riz him up and falls flat on his face (literally and metaphorically) Soap just has to have him cream his hole im sorry but the man isn't letting his boyfriend go anywhere without having his mans loads in him. Price just loves him for the sincerity and how endearing his loser boyfriend is (just like an old man). the boyfriend will bring him coffee with a treat he tried making for Price and fuck up both the coffee and the treat but that old man will still praise you and give you kisses while his hand wanders bellow your waistband. with him Price gets to get rid of the anxiety of being too old to be useful because someone needs to make his boyfriend into a proper man. and when his boy does things right and suceeds Price rewards him by riding his phat loser cock for the whole night, milking load after load untill nothing comes out anymore

thanks for listening to the ramble i just want some love to the losers of society, there's too many perfect people in fics

Sugar!!!!!!! This is one of my favorite things I’ve ever read why do y’all leave these masterpieces in my inbox on anon you should post this sugar 🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

Especially the gaz and price part???

Imagine all eyes on Gaz in whatever room he walks in they barley notice you behind him but he’s always got a hand around your waist, gently nudging you forward and introducing you as his boyfriend to whoever’s there

He lets you take the stage just endearingly staring at you while you try to make conversation with whoever was eager to meet the two of you

And after you’re done you got a goofy smile on your face feeling happy that you managed to get through that conversation without fucking it up

And Gaz? He’s swiftly pulling you into a room crashing his lips against yours and it doesn’t take much before he’s riding your cock marking you up and feeling all possessive because yes this wonderful sweetheart is his boyfriend and he needs the world to know that

Or you, Price’s boyfriend feeling a bit insecure because Price has so much experience and you have none but he loves it, loves how you look at his old man body with such amazement love how eager you are to learn how to get him off, tears trickling down your cheek as you suck his cock, using your hands wherever your mouth can’t reach

Or you being careful as ever when you first fuck, asking him if he’s okay, if you’re hurting him all while he’s looking at you with the biggest smile on his face because bloody hell how did he get so lucky to have someone as sweet as you and he’s even more endeared when you’re swiftly apologizing because you came too quickly

#alec answers #call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #gaz x reader #gaz x male reader

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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i've usually been in fandoms where the series (or movie, whatever media) has been over for a while, but my current fandom is still ongoing. i'm nervous about writing fanfic for this fandom, since the canon isn't "solid" yet. good characters could turn out terrible, scenes can change entire perceptions and perspectives, stuff like that makes me nervous about writing fic. i don't want to villainize a character that turns out to get a redemption arc, i don't want to write a ship fic about a ship i might end up hating later. idk if i'm explaining this right. essentially, writing fic about a fandom with an ongoing canon makes me nervous, but i want to write for this fandom. what do i do?

Remember that posting a work to AO3 comes with a built in date stamp. It'll be clear to anyone reading the story a year from now or two years from now that you wrote it at a certain point in canon.

If you enjoy writing canon compliant fics, you can even add a tag like "post-ep for s02e04" or "missing moment from s01e12" or whatever it might be. You could provide that content in an author's note or your summary instead, if you prefer.

A lot of fic is written while canon is still up in the air and people are used to things changing. If you write for a ship you end up hating, you can always delete the fic later or orphan it if you want folks to still have access to it but remove your own name. You can villainize a character in one story and proclaim them heroic in another. Unless you put your work into a series, there's no need for every story you write to follow on from each other. Each one can be an independent world all on its own.

And that raises another point: write AUs. You don't have to stick to canon compliant works if that stresses you out. An AU can be as simple as "everything is the same, but these characters met before canon started" and as complex as "these people are now aliens living on a different planet".

Will there be people who point out canon inconsistencies when they read your fic years later? Sure. It's happened to me. But at the same time, they were reading my fic years later. That's a compliment in and of itself.

What do the rest of you think? Have you had to deal with these worries before? How did you manage it?

#asks and answers

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xanasaurusrex · 5 months

Note

plss im so in love w diors clarisse,,, maybe smth with her showing off during capture the flag for r,,,

clarisse showing off during capture the flag clarisse la rue x reader a/n: so this was kinda a drabble kinda a fic idk it's longer than i meant for it to be but i like it so i'm not mad. honestly this y/n is kinda hecate!child coded so you can read it like that but i didn't specify the godly parent so you can imagine her however you want (: taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi (let me know if you want to be on my taglist or if you want to be removed!)

y/n and clarisse had been dancing around each other romantically for months now.

y/n was a new camper, and had arrived during the winter months, when there were very few campers still there. her mortal parent had died at the same time the monsters started finding her. thankfully, her satyr protector managed to get her to camp in one piece. with a few scratches, yes, but ultimately safe.

during the winter, when there were only a limited amount of people to be around, y/n found herself gravitating towards clarisse la rue, an ares kid.

the other campers had warned y/n away from clarisse, claiming that she was mean and angry and was a hard person to be around. she was dependable in battle, according to them, but other than that, they all tended to steer clear of her.

y/n wasn't finding that that was her experience with clarisse, though.

whenever she was with clarisse, she was gentle and kind and funny, and y/n found herself wanting to be with her at any and all times of the day.

since camp didn't experience weather the same way the outside world did, there were a few times during the winter when the rules were more lax due to the smaller amount of campers, they snuck away from their respective cabins and camped in the woods. it became a thing that was special to the two of them, time for them to just be with each other.

it was those camping trips that y/n started thinking that maybe her relationship with clarisse was a bit more complicated than just a friendship.

unbeknownst to y/n, clarisse had practically fallen in love with y/n the second she laid eyes on her.

the two were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. it was pretty much common knowledge at this point within camp that if you could see one of them, the other was close by.

capture the flag.

one of the most fun days of camp half blood, and also the most serious at the same time.

a day where campers with beef could be on opposite teams and duke out their problems with each other without consequence, but mostly just a day for one team to capture the flag of the other's, and have bragging rights for the next twelve months until the next capture the flag day came around.

clarisse loved playing capture the flag at camp.

it was definitely mostly because she was a daughter of ares, the god of war, and she felt most confident in herself with her magic spear in hand, wearing armor, and stabbing at someone.

a strange way to feel the most confident, but it was.

y/n had never seen clarisse on a capture the flag day, and she was really on board with it.

clarisse looked really good wearing her battle armor, holding her magic spear so carefully, and yet throwing it around with so much confidence.

she could barely takes her eyes off her.

thankfully, y/n and clarisse's cabins had both been placed on the same team (which may or may not be because clarisse had begged chiron for this, but who's to say?), so clarisse was going to be able to work with y/n and not against her.

that would've been awkward....

when clarisse was coming up with the plan for capture the flag last week, mysteriously, the plan started revolving around her and y/n being together at all times.

strange... how things pan out....

when one of her siblings pointed this out, clarisse made sure to fix them with a glare so full of malice they turned away and didn't make any more comments.

as clarisse looked down at her battle plan, she started imagining herself taking down the blue team members with ease, and standing in the background was y/n, swooning over her.

"so, what's our game plan?"

her voice caught clarisse totally off guard, causing her to whip around quickly. clarisse had been shocked out of her mind so suddenly that it took her a few seconds to register what was in front of her.

it was y/n. in battle armor for capture the flag. and she was obsessed with it.

during the winter months, there aren't really any reason for campers to wear their armor, unless obviously there's an attack on the camp, but since there hadn't been any over the winter when she had come to camp, there had been no reason to.

clarisse was sure it had something to do with her father being the god of war, but seeing her wearing camo pants a breastplate, with a sword at her side made her look even more beautiful to clarisse.

"do you... like it?" she asked, a slight teasing lilt to your voice.

clarisse snapped herself out of it, realizing that she had taken a bit more time than she intended to examine y/n's outfit.

"y-yeah, you look... you look amazing, y/n," a small smile passed onto clarisse's face. she mentally cursed herself for stuttering. who even was she? not a person who stuttered, she had thought.

but there was just something about y/n that challenged everything clarisse had thought about herself.

y/n blushed slightly at the compliment, but managed to regain her composure quickly. "thanks," the two shared a small smile. "seriously though, what's our game plan? where am i gonna be?"

clarisse beamed at your interest in the battle plan, and quickly did a run down with her. she mentioned as casually as she could that the two of them would be together the whole time pretty much, with practically no time apart.

the conch sounded, and then everything went into action.

clarisse did her usual hunt of the red team part of the woods, and with y/n at her side, it made her all the more determined to find someone to fight with.

as the two were prowling the woods (or really, clarisse was prowling, and y/n was walking alongside her, admiring the beauty of the woods), y/n stopped suddenly, letting out a loud and dramatic gasp.

clarisse immediately activated her spear and started looking around frantically in search of the danger, and was confused when she found none.

she looked curiously over at where y/n was, and saw her kneeling on the ground in front of a patch of wildflowers, looking at it with childlike wonder in her eyes.

clarisse let out a relieved sigh that everything was okay, and no one from blue team was trying to take y/n as a hostage, but then she became confused.

"what are you doing?" clarisse asked, coming up behind her.

y/n reached forward silently, and quickly plucked one of the white wildflowers from the ground. she stood up facing clarisse, and then stepped towards her. the two were now incredibly close, their noses practically touching, their breaths mingling.

all the air left clarisse's lungs.

with a soft smile on her face, she gently tucked the wildflower behind clarisse's ear.

neither of them knew what to say next. this was such an intimate gesture, such a gentle act that clarisse had never experienced the likes of before. her life had been full of anger and violence, and this moment right here was something new. something... exciting.

this moment was so very y/n, and clarisse loved it.

unfortunately, the moment was broken by the sound of a twig snapping behind them. clarisse rolled her eyes at the blue team members that had undoubtedly thought they were being very sneaky.

clarisse couldn't control the slight smirk that was slowly forming at the thought of showing off her fighting skills in front of y/n, though, so she guessed it wasn't all too bad.

for the cherry on top, clarisse winked at y/n, before spinning around and stabbing the chestplate of one of the blue team members that had attempted to sneak up on the two of them.

the battle was loud and exciting and over quickly, since the two blue team kids were pretty good at sword fighting, but were no match for clarisse and her spear.

once clarisse had defeated them and the kids had surrendered, she turned back to y/n with a smirk on her face.

y/n approached clarisse slowly. she took in her face quietly for any injuries, and gently assessed a small cut she'd sustained from one of the other kids swords before she'd knocked it out of his hand.

y/n's eyes then went to the wildflower still somehow tucked into clarisse's ear. it was askew slightly, so her hand went up to adjust it, making sure it was secure, before her hand landed on clarisse's cheek.

"impressive," was all she said, a large smile on her face.

clarisse smiled widely as well, and couldn't help feeling triumphant.

#percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse larue x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse larue imagine #x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x yn #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse larue x you #ares god of war #ares child #drabble #request #❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's requests ༉‧₊˚#❛ xan's anons ༉‧₊˚

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gffa · 6 months

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All right, so maybe I went haring off to another fandom for awhile, but I will never fully let go of my STAR WARS fic reading roots because there's just so much incredible fic here and I have such intense feelings about these characters, like how can I possibly truly leave when this fandom knows how to scratch my id just right or make me cry over fictional characters or hyena laugh because you people are very funny? There's just so much fic that is so good that of course I keep coming back! Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, there are just so many incredible people making incredible fics for them that feed right back into my love for their twisty, turny, complicated, beautiful, awful relationship. So here's a bunch of Obikin fic because the fandom is amazing and you should go love them as much as I love them, since you can hopefully completely sate yourself on a bunch of fantastic fic to read! Or idk send yourself into a grief coma because sometimes fic writers are almost as mean as canon was, but in the best way, the way that really hits you in the feelings place. Or idk idk just gorge on all the porn because DANG Obikin fandom brings the porn! WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121k wip In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Together in Slumber by ibex_ascendant, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k wip Several months after his last confrontation with Darth Vader, Obi-Wan finds himself trapped in a vivid and mysterious mindscape. And he isn't there alone. ✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten. or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s. ✦ Slow Learner by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 12.6k Four times Anakin tried to fit Obi-Wan's big dick inside him and one time he managed it. or; the evolution of their sexual relationship. ✦ Redolent of you by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dom/sub, 31.3k wip This act of espionage is going to require some class A play at antiquated alpha and omega dynamics, only problem is Anakin has never submitted in his life and it's certainly not within his nature,or so Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ Heal Me, My Darling by wasureneba, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 12.4k Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan takes care of him. For two weeks. Alone. This would be easier if Anakin wasn't quite so gone for Obi-Wan. Or if this didn't involve a daily stab in the shebs. ✦ For He, too, is King by MayMeows, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, historical au, 7.7k “I am here to present myself to the man who now calls himself King of my people.” Obi-Wan would be impressed as Anakin’s title as God-King, born from the divine himself, often struck people with awe, terrifying or glorifying, but Queen Amidala’s voice is as strong as her shoulders are squared. ✦ How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by Sharp_Tongue, obi-wan/anakin & mace & yoda & quinlan & palpatine, nsfw, time travel, 23.9k After defeating Vader on a barren, nameless moon, Obi-Wan had let go of the past. But the past hadn’t let go of him. ✦ (feel like i die) ‘til i feel your touch by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & yoda & mace & ahsoka, 15.5k OR; Obi-Wan gets himself cursed and makes it everyone’s, but mainly Anakin’s, problem.

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED AND/OR DIVERGES: ✦ Yellow Surprise by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.1k When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily. ✦ A Good Epithet by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.2k Obi-Wan should have been happy. He had fulfilled Qui-Gon’s final wish. He had trained Anakin, he had spent ten years teaching the boy and watching him grow, he had cared for him and scolded him and coddled him by turns. He had, for better or worse, been Anakin Skywalker’s Master. ✦ hold on to this lullaby by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & rex, 1k “Anakin,” Kenobi says with a hint of a reprimand in his voice. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Skywalker staggers further into the room, and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. He rolls his eyes but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the color high on his face and the effect it has on his features: a pleased expression flashing clear as ion fire. Having made his way to one of the chairs, he drops down onto it with the elegance of a Hutt. ✦ Any Other World by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin & vader & leia & reva, NSFW, dimension hopping, 24.2k wip Anakin has been looking for his Master for a very long time. Finally, on Mapuzo, he finds him. ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving. ✦ spirit meets the bone by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, time travel, dom/sub, 2k Or, the Force keeps sending Anakin forward in time from the Clone Wars. ✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delzi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking/discipline, 18.6k wip Anakin can't stand Obi-Wan's new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it. ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.3k Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Oh no. Oh no. Anakin slumped back into the bed, staring down at himself in horror. Anakin Skywalker had just had a wet dream about Obi-Wan Kenobi. [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD: ✦ Strings Pulled Taut by preromantics, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k (AKA Anakin gets a bunch of gunk in his hair, Obi-Wan has been hyper-fixated, and it all bursts like a bubble.) ✦ dark red by wesnenski, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k He feels Obi-Wan before he sees him: a ripple in the Force, a glow of warmth in the darkness. When he appears from the shadows like a bleary-eyed spectre, Anakin can only look up at him, nostrils flared, lip quivering. Here is his Master, tired and gaunt but solid and present and real. ✦ Take Care of Yourself, I Wish I Could by Kefalion, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 7k While Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone on a planet during a mission, Anakin goes into a presentation heat. One Obi-Wan will not help him through no matter how much they'd both want it. Not that they know that want is mutual. ✦ Fever by dirkygoodness, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, cat boy!anakin, 3.5k Obi-Wan wakes up to a cuddly (Ny)Anakin and is met with something he isn't expecting. He's going to have to deal with it though. And enjoy himself as he does. ✦ sink into the dunes by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9k [A collection of small Obikin drabbles. Each chapter will have its own one shot.] 01. sfw, anakin’s separation anxiety. 02. first time nsfw. 03. obikin zine piece, sith!obi-wan, jedi!anakin, handjobs. ✦ a necessary respite by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.6k to be fair, all of this is obiwan’s fault. even though his master is calmly sorting through reports the faint buzz of arousal in the back of both of their heads is majorly coming from him, anakin just can’t help but react to it. ✦ the lean and hungry type by tideswept, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.5k And so is Anakin, really, for being excited about this rather than angry. He wets his lower lip, striving to cohere his thoughts into something that isn’t appallingly horny, when Master speaks. “I’m not in rut,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t spring that on you.” “I mean,” Anakin pauses. “You could.” ✦ when people show you who they are, believe them by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, spanking, dom/sub, 3k Anakin has a meeting with the Chancellor. Obi-Wan convinces him to take a slow morning instead. ✦ needs must by silianrail, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dual sex!anakin, 1.7k Anakin must be the neediest omega in the entire temple, if not on the entire planet. But if Anakin is needy, what does that make Obi-Wan, who, after all, bends to so many of his padawan’s desires? ✦ Use Me by kittimau, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.5k Anakin knows what Obi-Wan needs, even if he won't say it.

✦ Insatiable by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.8k Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes with a rueful smile. “You wanted it fast, yes?” “Yes.” Even without their responsibilities looming, Anakin would’ve wanted it like this; quick and dirty, like they just can’t help themselves. “Yeah. Fast is perfect.” “Good,” Obi-Wan says, punctuating the word with a single thrust. “Because I don’t think I’ll last long.” Or; With the twins still asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan steal some time for themselves. ✦ Hazy Shade of Winter by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.7k Obi-Wan runs hot; Anakin most definitely does not. Thankfully Obi-Wan is there to warm Anakin up when things get unusually cold in the Jedi Temple. ✦ The Love You Want by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, potential dub con-esque (read the tags), 6.8k They've returned to their rooms after sparring, flushed and laughing and close enough that the very air feels heated between them. Once the door has closed, Obi-Wan turns to Anakin, smiling, takes Anakin's jaw in the cup of his hand and kisses him like the first blush of spring. "You'll be good for me, won't you?" he murmurs, and Anakin does nothing more than dreamily nod because he knows just what to do when he's slipped under like this. Knows his job is to be obedient and pliant and good. ✦ Handle Me With Care by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k Obi Wan wants Anakin but he knows he shouldn't. He also knows that there is no way he could ever act on it - or so he thought. ✦ tear me apart by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 2.4k Obi-Wan uses Anakin in the Council Chamber ✦ A Lesson in Listening by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, toys, 4.4k “Anakin,” Obi-Wan says simply. Anakin feels chills run down his spine. That tone means everything except simplicity. “Bedroom.” His husband commands. ✦ Keeping Company by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 11.1k "So, will you? Will you help me through my heat? Please, I want you to fuck me, Master, I need it." Anakin doesn't care that he's begging already, but he's getting even wetter between his legs and he can't help it. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind anyway, because he groans and drags his fingers up into Anakin's hair and tugs slightly, making Anakin gasp. "Force, yes, I'll give you what you need, Anakin." ✦ king unmaker by unbitten, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, transmasc!anakin, royalty au, 4.4k How to get your King to stop playing hooky from his appointments to make trips to the brothel? Scold him. Stare disapprovingly. Fuck him yourself.

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT: ✦ Reunion by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/darth vader, ~1k Some sweetness to help with the absolute agony of Obi-Wan lol ✦ The Jedi Child by RowenaNie, obi-wan/darth vader & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, pregnant!anakin, 48.1k “The emperor has put my replacement inside of me,” Vader said. ✦ Hand in Unlovable Hand by Rachello344, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.8k Post Kenobi Part VI: Instead of leaving Vader for dead, Obi-Wan finds himself unable to abandon his dear friend again and so takes him with him. How can Obi-Wan Kenobi live without the other half of himself? Whatever it takes, he will drag Anakin back to himself, kicking and screaming. ✦ dreamscape melodies by egeria, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.9k "The layers you Jedi wear are ridiculous," Vader grumbled. Obi-Wan let out a huff. "We're in a dream, are we not? Can we not just will our clothes off?" -- or: Vader is in heat and Obi-Wan is in his dream. It's still complicated. ✦ to restrain the darkness by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, some dom/sub, 2k Or, Vader wants Obi-Wan to tie him up. ✦ dreams of old by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, nsfw, 4.1k wip Obi-Wan surrenders to Vader on Jabiim in exchange for everyone else's freedom.

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE: ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ Sticky by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & rex & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 25.9k [Or: In which Anakin is too horny to handle and Obi-wan has a bit less control than he originally thought.] ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, 10.3k [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ Stargazing by thegingerwrites, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 21k Anakin and Obi-Wan have become too well-known on the Holonet to take on undercover assignments anymore. But desperate times call for desperate measures and the Council asks them to make contact with a Separatist defector at a gala hosted on Mandalore. At least the event is a masquerade. ✦ praise you by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17.9k An act of insubordination, a crash landing and a trek through the forests of an uncharted planet bring Anakin and Obi-Wan to a very hospitable village. Sure they think Anakin is a god, but really, what's wrong with wanting to be appreciated? ✦ terribly inconvenient and incredibly terrific by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 24.8k Obi-Wan has the sheer nerve to imply that Anakin is ill-suited for a mission he himself is going on, which means that Anakin will stop at nothing to prove his old master wrong. After all, Anakin can do anything Obi-Wan can do, thank you very much. Even if maybe, just this one time, Obi-Wan is right. This mission relies on the one area of Anakin's life he's never spent much time or effort thinking about: his omega designation and Obi-Wan's alpha one. But there's no way that Anakin is going to back down now. What will Obi-Wan do? Go to the planet with another, non-Anakin omega? Don't make him laugh. He's Obi-Wan's partner. And Obi-Wan is his alpha. Alpha master. Same thing. ✦ and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & qui-gon & rex & cast, 37.9k “Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM: ✦ a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 7.8k “A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?” ✦ The Lonely Mollusk by temple_mistress, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, nsfw, 2k Obi-Wan was incredibly horny, Anakin was, Force-bless him, more than ready to oblige, and the children were miraculously still sleeping. ✦ looking for trouble by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin (mentioned obi-wan/anakin/padme), spanking, 1.7k Anakin gets in a fight. Obi-Wan cleans him up and spanks him.

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND: ✦ (I just) died in your arms tonight by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & cast, modern au, 2.5k wip Where Obi-Wan is still a master of politics and Anakin still fixes spaceships and they’re still irrevocably obsessed with one another. ✦ Win Condition by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, F1 au, 4.3k Anakin has just won his first race of his F1 career and Obi-Wan, his longtime trainer and partner, knows just what his boy should get as a reward. (His dick. The reward is his dick.) ✦ Hooked on You by whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 5.2k With his wife's approaching senatorial election, Anakin Skywalker tries desperately to be the perfect husband she needs. Little does Padmé know, her husband has been sleeping with her campaign manager, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for quite a while now. ✦ we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, fake married, 5.8k wip He looks up and meets Anakin’s eyes. A thoughtful expression passes over his face. “Married people are paid significantly more,” he says then, slowly, looking at Anakin like he’s trying to solve a riddle. Anakin stares, dumbstruck. “Huh.” ✦ Would You Like Cream With That? by ranianke, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor obi-wan, 2.1k Obi-Wan was a good teacher. His students learned the content, he got flattering reviews (even when you ignored the chili pepper Rate My Professors reviews that he could not seem to get taken down), and he generally liked teaching. Good professors did not sleep with their students. ✦ Pride & Preparation by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, school au, 5.6k “You’re beautiful,” Anakin praised, making Obi-Wan blush. “And nervous.” Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” Anakin said easily, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I love you, and this is going to be really fun.” ✦ swear each night to let him go by vorpalstars, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 10.3k wip Anakin develops an unfortunate amount of lust for his literature teacher ✦ Seven Minutes in Anakin by Saratutti, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, dom/sub, 1.9k Fully enamored doesn't even begin to describe Anakin’s captivation with the gorgeous professor he has stumbled into dating this Christmas season. ✦ The Melody Wakes the Heart by edgeofn1ght, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 3.5k However, it's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work. ✦ Pick-up Games by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 1.1k Ben’s quiet afternoon is ruined by a basketball player who needs some medical attention. He doesn’t mind too much. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 22: Brakebills by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.2k Anakin Skywalker was not a typical student of Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy.

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU: ✦ death by any other name by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, vampire au, 11.5k While on a mission during his years as a Padawan, Obi-Wan escapes the tight hold of death transformed into something not quite human. In the years following, he isn’t always so lucky. ✦ Till Human Voices Wake Us by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, mer!anakin, 2.7k It’s late summer when Obi-Wan first notices a flash of gold between the waves. ✦ Goodbye by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, nsfw, 1.2k Anakin has no wish to leave Obi-Wan, not when they have just been reunited. Luckily for him, Obi-Wan is good at making their goodbye very memorable. ✦ tender like a bruise by stardies, obi-wan/anakin & cast, omegaverse, 6.8k wip In a stroke of desperation, Obi-wan mates Anakin Skywalker by force on the fiery planet of Mustafar to stop his Fall and save his life. Taken back to Coruscant and imprisoned, Anakin feels the senate's pressure for justice, and Obi-wan, his mate and former mentor is determined to give him another chance. ✦ canaries underground by TheGoodDoctor, obi-wan/padme & references to anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, padme lives, 10k There are good days, and bad days. This is a good one. ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & palpatine & cast, NSFW, Not a Jedi!Anakin, Sith!Obi-Wan, 63.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can't refuse. These things are, actually, related.

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS: ✦ you can't just leave me by amadwinter, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, 1.6k Anakin swears he’s above his Omega instincts, but when he’s sparring with his Alpha master one day, some wires get crossed that leave him unable to distinguish friend from foe. A primal fear consumes him, and no amount of Jedi training will shake the feeling he needs to escape. He needs to protect himself from the dangerous Alpha circling around him, searching for any sign of weakness. When backed into a corner, an Omega’s last line of defense is their bite. After all, an Alpha would never hurt their mate… ✦ A Little Early, A Little Late by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 7.4k Anakin finds out he's pregnant. The problem is that his mating ceremony isn't for another four months. ✦ Sweet Surprise by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 12.3k Obi Wan and Anakin are forced to land on an unfamiliar planet. Anakin is perplexed by everyone's obvious interest in him, unsure what could be causing it. That is, until he receives some unexpected news. The problem is, Anakin's not quite sure he believes it. The other problem is what Obi Wan might think when he finds out. ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & vokara, NSFW, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 5.3k After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #obianidala #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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updownlately · 6 months

Text

if you’re gonna waste my time (let’s waste it right)

| leah williamson x reader | hurt/comfort | 3.3k | disclaimer: mentions of anxiety, self loathing, negative thoughts, and depression -this delves into some slightly heavy topics so please read at your own discretion! | a/n: got this ask a while back and an idea struck to me while driving! first fic in a while that i've written in one sitting so let's see how this goes! honestly started off really strong but then idk where we went. anyways, not proofread as usual, but happy reading! take care amigos! and just know that each of you are loved, cared for, and cherished by those around you, even if you don't know it! 🫶

~~~

Fight, flight, or freeze.

They say that every human has these three survival instincts built in.

Instincts meant to protect, to escape, but most importantly, to survive.

Responses meant to make sure that one would make it out of harm’s way, preferably unscathed.

Fight, the mechanism that evoked adrenaline. That helped you battle your way through the toughest of encounters.

That did its best to make sure you were well equipped to tackle any scuffle, minor or major, to the best of your ability.

Flight, the mechanism that helped you run- escape before you couldn’t anymore.

The one that ensured that you got out before you could be attacked- before you could be hurt.

And then of course, freeze.

Rooted to your spot, immobile as harm directed itself towards you, one only praying that you could be so still that harm skipped right past you, practically avoiding you as you let it pass.

Freeze, that left you with a pounding heart, blood rushing in your ears.

Freeze that meant you couldn’t move, body rigid, feet planted, mind stopped in time.

Freeze that kept you stuck. stuck in an endless loop of agony, of shaky breaths, of paralyzing fear.

Freeze, considered the weakest of the three.

So as you stood there, eyes wide, muscles tense, body frozen, you cursed your mind and body with all that you could, wondering why of the three instincts, freeze was what you had done in order to try and survive.

~~~

There’s something terrifying about the voices that ring in your head.

How they so scarily sound similar to the people in your life, past and present.

Voices reminding you how you aren’t good enough. How you’ve let them down. How maybe if you weren’t there, the world would be okay. That it would move on without a hitch, without a second thought, because when it came to it, at the end of the day, maybe, just maybe, you didn’t really matter anyways.

Voices that sounded like your mother, reminding you of dark nights of you hidden in your room, the harsh words ringing in the four walls of your bedroom, what was supposed to be your safe haven, now tainted with feelings of regret, of disappointment, of outright disgust.

It’d be better if you didn’t exist.

Voices that sounded like your father, angry yells late into the night, enough smashed dishes that left your hands littered with scars that’d never cease to remind you, enough nights spent under your covers silently wiping tears as you prayed that you were quiet enough.

What a waste of air.

Voices that sounded like past coaches and management that knocked you back with each word spoken, each push forward sending you feet yards back, support that felt like hindrance more than anything.

You’d be lucky if you got to play past the little leagues. It’d be a miracle that’s for sure.

Voices that sounded like fans- people that were meant to support you- but you couldn’t force them to. Hundreds if not thousands of comments left, each asking for you to be traded. Hell, they’d take a sack of potatoes if nothing else.

I can’t believe that we wasted our money on this. Can’t we just, I don’t know, get rid of her? She’s the reason we suck. Maybe if she was half a decent player we’d actually be somewhere in the league.

Comments that repeated your worth. Ingrained it into your mind. Over and over and over again.

You weren’t good enough.

Sentences that etched themselves into the forefront of your thoughts, always ready to haunt you at the slightest notice.

You weren’t good enough.

Not now, not ever.

Not for your own mother or father, never mind your siblings.

Not for your teammates, nor the fans.

It was a miracle you were even playing professionally in the first place.

God if they took one good look at you maybe they realized how poorly they fucked up by signing you.

You weren’t a good footballer, barely even a decent one. How you managed to play for this long was a miracle.

They’d notice soon enough though. They had to. They always did.

They’d notice soon enough that you weren’t good enough.

And then?

Then you’d be left with nothing, as you always were.

~~~

You didn’t know when you were led inside to the locker rooms- when that absolutely terrifying moment of being in front of the opposing team’s stands had gone from you taking a corner to being absolutely pelted by random junk.

From empty bottles (plastic thankfully), to empty food containers, balled-up programs, signs, merch, all being hurled your way, never mind the onslaught of assaults- the stands only repeating everything your mind ever told you, every, single, day.

You didn’t hear when the ref blew their whistle, nor when the rest of the girls dressed in red crowded you, some chastising the fans along with the away team, others wrapping around you protectively, quickly leading you towards the benches.

You weren’t there as you were subbed off, your mind still frozen, much like the rest of your body.

All you knew right now was that you could smell the familiar scent of your girlfriend’s perfume as the heel of your palms pressed harshly into your eyes in an attempt to cease the uproar in your head.

Breaths getting heavy, you tried your best to calm yourself down.

You weren’t a stranger to panic attacks, and even in your hazed state, you could very well recognize the oncoming situation.

Bringing your arms to wrap around your own stomach in a futile attempt to bring yourself some sort of comfort, you felt your breathing pick up as the sharp lights of the room seemed to get darker.

Room spinning, the voices in your head louder, you could only bring your knees up to your head, body now practically in fetal position as you rode out the attack.

Even with the hundreds you’d had by now, you hadn’t been able to come up with an effective method to deal with them.

So you sat there, huddled into a ball, body shaking, mind louder than ever as Leah stood above and watched helplessly.

The blonde had been there in the stands to watch you get abused, immediately making her way down to the pitch because ACL and league rules be damned, that was her girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

She stood by the sidelines, ready to receive you as the obvious substitution occurred, an arm coming to wrap around you as she led your ghost of a body to the locker rooms.

She watched as you mindlessly sat in front of your locker, not a single word uttered from you, not a single response to the quiet comforting words the blonde had whispered to you gently in an attempt to rouse you from your clearly distressed state.

She itched to reach out and touch you as she saw you slowly curl into a ball, you getting ever so smaller as she could only helplessly watch, you unknowingly flinching the second she touched your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you.

It was only when your heavy breathing died down every so slightly, nearly fifteen minutes later if the blonde’s perception was right, that she tried again, slowly coming to sit beside you as she gauged your reaction.

Seeing your shaking start to slow as well, she slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulder, her own body tense as she watched you stiffen up before you relaxed slightly, letting her pull you into her side as her other hand came to hold your left one.

And long after you had buried yourself into her side, body defeated with the rollercoaster of emotions you’d just experienced, too tired to think of any of the consequences of your actions, you let Leah led you- helping your pull on a hoodie and your jacket and change out of your cleats as she gathered the rest of your gear.

Helpless except able to nod in agreement as the blonde suggested you leave early from the game, you followed her quietly, not a word said from you, as she led you out of the ground and to her car, where you fell asleep within seconds.

It was only when the car pulled up to her house, a place you’d been to many times, your relationship long past new to the both of you, did you rouse, mind still not present and following the blonde.

Leah was good. You trusted Leah. Leah was safe.

The words repeating in your head, you believing they were true like all the other words that crossed your mind, you let yourself sleepily be led up the stairs and up to the ensuite.

Standing there awkwardly as you slowly came to the situation, the lights in the washroom waking you up, your shoulders sunk as the embarrassment from earlier set in.

God you were an embarrassment. First a panic attack in front of the English skipper, and now this- you stood helplessly in her bathroom like you were broken, waiting to be fixed.

You watched in dread as the blonde flitted around the joint closet, quickly gathering a change of clothes for you before she stacked them neatly on the countertop, handing you a towel and starting the shower, not meeting your eyes.

What you didn’t know was that she didn’t want to scare you off, intimidate you as her heart ached at the shameful look in your eyes.

“Take a warm shower, yeah? We’ll get you some food after, and then how about a nap?”

Unable to do anything but nod in response, your fear of upsetting the blonde, of anyone really, making itself known, you followed her instructions, locking the door as she left and starting to remove your sweat covered kit.

~~~

It’s nearly twenty minutes later when you emerge from the shower, your dirty clothes held precariously in your hands, your eyes wide as you see Leah sprawled across her bed, scrolling aimlessly on her phone.

A small smile unknowingly escapes you as you watch her nearly throw her phone, very much caught off-guard at your appearance.

Smile tightening quickly as you realized it rested on your face, your eyes met the ground, ears sharp as you noted the footsteps headed towards you.

Before you knew it, the mess of dirty clothes was swiftly taken from your hands, your gaze snapping up as you watched Leah take your dirty kit and toss it into her own hamper before turning to you.

“Alright. I’d rather you eat, but I’m not going to force you to, yeah? We can take a nap, maybe just reset, or if you wanna sit down and watch a movie or a show we can do that too…how’s that sound?”

Feeling your eyes water at the blonde’s gentle tone, feelings still overwhelming from earlier, your sights met the ground again as you meekly nodded.

Blood rushing in your ears, you felt the vibrations as Leah stepped towards you again, her hands gently taking yours.

“Nap?”

Taking her chances at guessing which you preferred, the tender tone in her voice had you easily nodding again, tears you’d been trying to hold back now escaping.

And as the blonde led you to her bed, you winced as the voices in your head picked up once again, mind baffled at why someone was treating you with this much kindness, this much care.

Choosing to ignore them for now, you smiled shyly at the sight in front of you, Leah having rounded the bed to go on ‘her’ side, the skipper tucked into the sheets, arms wide open as she shot you a soft grin, eyes sparkling with glee as she waited for you to join her.

Gingerly approaching the bed, you hesitantly pulled back the covers, eyes meeting Leah’s every few seconds to make sure you were okay, before entering, unsure of whether you were allowed to hug the blonde (even if a part of you so desperately wanted to do so).

Your question was answered for you, however, Leah was unable to see you lying down in such a stiff manner, taking matters into her own hands and hooking an arms around your waist and pulling you into her.

And as you slowly got comfortable, moving millimetres every minute until you finally found yourself resting with your head on her chest, arm wrapped around her midsection as her hand came to wrap around your waist, one running through your hair, you let yourself sink into her hold, brain quietening every so slightly as the familiar presence and scent had you relaxing.

It was only when you were on the verge of sleep, minutes later, did you hear Leah’s voice whisper into the air between you two, her lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as an apology as she realized her mistake of rousing you from your sleepy state.

“There’s a lot that goes on up there,” with a small nod towards the top of your head, she continued, “but it doesn’t have to stay there y’know?”

Holding her breath as she felt you shift slightly, you turning your body to listen better, she spoke again.

“I’d be more than happy to stay here and listen to you when you need it. Really, any of us would. All of the girls love you and care for you, and despite whatever people might say, you add to the team, yeah?”

Feeling you nod hesitantly at the words, Leah waited as she sensed your jaw move, anticipation killing her as you sounded out the words silently before they left your mouth- and even then, you winced slightly.

“I don’t want to be a burden…don’t wanna waste your time…”

There was something in the way the words quietly rolled off your tongue, no doubt said many times before, the sincerity behind them proving you meant them wholeheartedly- that you believed you were an inconvenience, that broke Leah’s heart.

You weren’t a burden. You weren’t.

She wondered if you’d ever seen yourself the way other’s saw you. If that coloured glass that you saw yourself through was tainted any other colour than black. Whether it was ever yellow so you’d see just how much of a ray of sunshine you were on the stormiest of days, often cheering up your shared teammates with just a single smile as you’d skip into the change rooms.

Or if you ever looked at yourself through the rose coloured glass, the same hue that would coat your cheeks as you’d interact with fans post-game, giving each and every one your undivided attention, making them feel special, and loved, and cared for.

Or whether you ever saw yourself through green, breathing life to even the dullest moments, standing tall, unwavering, as players would try to take you down on the pitch over and over again, you getting back up each time, a force to be reckoned with, one that not even the rainiest of days nor Mother nature could defy.

You weren’t a burden, and the blonde needed you to believe it, because it was the truth and nothing but the wholehearted, honest-to-god truth.

It’s why her honest admission just tumbles out, the words spilling before the defender could stop them.

“If I could hold you all night and all day, I would, without a single doubt or any hesitation.”

Her grip tightening on you as the words are spoken clearly and strongly, her placing a gentle kiss to your temple before continuing.

“If you think you’re gonna waste my time by talking to me when you aren’t doing well, then just know, that listening to you as I try and comfort you and get the chance to hold you in my arms? It’s the best waste of time I’ll ever have in my life. It’s one I’ll cherish till the end of time, because it’s never, and I mean never, a waste.”

Taking a deep breath in, the blonde felt you nod at her words, your own grip tightening around the blonde as you pulled yourself closer into her, closing your eyes in an attempt to believe her the best you could.

Leah could sense your struggle though, not ignorant to the way a small, trembling breath escaped you, frustration clear.

“You don’t have to believe me now, or any time soon really, but just know, it’s the wholehearted truth- and I’ll spend as long as you need reminding you, because you’re good enough. You’re more than good enough, and worthy of love, and a good life, and good things. You deserve love, even though your brain tries to tell you otherwise, yeah?”

When you didn’t say anything, it clear to the blonde that you were silently taking in her words, contemplating them, doing your best to believe them, she let you be, revelling in the silence as took in the feel of you being in her arms, one of her favourite feelings in the world.

The blonde could almost feel you turning her words over in your head, examining them from top to bottom as you inspected them for any indication of a lie, surprised when there wasn’t one.

Content with the way you hadn’t spoken out yet in disagreement, Leah decided to take her chances and bite the bullet.

Proposing her next idea, the blonde held her breath in anticipation, heartbeat slowing dramatically as she hoped you’d agree to her words.

“I’ll always be here to hold you, but I think it might just help if we see a professional, yeah? You and me, both of us, we’ll go, and just give it a crack?”

Feeling your hesitancy this time, the blonde pulled you closer to her gently, turning onto her side as her eyes met yours.

One hand now carefully resting on your cheek, she placed a loving kiss on your forehead, then your nose before continuing.

“Three sessions is all I ask. If you don’t want to go after that, then I won’t ask again, ever. But, just give me three sessions, and I’ll be there for each one if you want, and if nothing changes, then you’re off the hook, deal?”

There was an audible sigh of relief that escaped Leah’s lips as you hesitantly nodded in agreement.

Deciding that that was good enough for the time being, Leah smiled softly to herself, more than happy with any baby steps of progress being made.

“Just want you to love yourself the way the rest of us love you. The way I love you…”

The words were punctuated with another gentle kiss on your head, this time her lips lingering as you both basked in the touch, the blonde well aware that physical touch was your love language.

Nodding to yourself as your girlfriend’s arms wrapped around you at the end of her sentence, heart feeling just a tad bit lighter as her embrace sucked you in, you let out a sigh of relief at the quiet in your mind and warmth in your chest.

Snuggling further into Leah’s hold, you let out a shaky breath as the emotions of the day filtered out of you, you weren’t going to lie, you were terrified for the future- absolutely scared shitless for what it held. But, with Leah by your side, on your team, cheering you on, a spark of hope nestled quietly inside you, filling you with a refreshing breath, a new goal to work towards.

Not now, not soon, but slowly and surely, you’d work your way through this. You wanted to. for your sake and hers.

After all, with your girlfriend to remind you that you were human, someone that could live and not just survive, maybe you could finally teach yourself it too.

#not proofread as usual #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #my writing #fic #fic req #hurt/comfort #iygwmt

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idyllic-ghost · 8 months

Text

Title: The Royal Gambit

Pairing: prince!Joshua x princess!reader

Warnings: smut, head (f and m receiving), exhibitionism, corruption kink, degradation, praise, impreg kink, p in v action, general filthiness. angst, arguments

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, royalty au, romance

Synopsis: Marriage should be a beautiful union between two lovers, but you did not love Prince Hong and he clearly did not love you. Everything you did, you did for your kingdoms - except when you started meeting him in quiet corners of the castle to take out your frustrations on each other. However, would this relationship be enough to hold together a marriage which your countries depended on?

Rating: 18+

A/N: idk why but all of my royalty au's turn out being super long! i really loved writing this, so i hope it'll be appreciated. also!!! i would be lying if i said i wasn't very influenced and inspired by @heartkyeom 's "be sweet", so please go read that and give it some love (it's an amazingly good hoshi fic!!!!) and thank you to @strawberryya for reading through my drafts and making sure everything made sense!

Word count: 17.7k

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A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled forward on the slippery floor. Heat spread across your cheeks as you stared down at the black-and-white checkered ground. Everyone’s eyes were on you, and it was most certainly not because of your beautiful dress. You weren’t sure how you ended up tripping, but you had managed to fall over thin air onto the dance floor. You kept your gaze down, not wanting to look at anyone else, and unsure of what to do you decided to stand frozen. Behind you was a wall of people, towering over you like some sort of evil entity. You surely couldn’t push yourself through them to hide - that’d be even more embarrassing. In front of you was a large open floor, couples standing evenly spread out and moving across the black-and-white marble floor like perfect chess pieces. They knew exactly where to go, and exactly what to do. You weren’t good at dancing and, more importantly, you didn’t have a partner. Tears started burning in your eyes, to think that the first ball you go to in this new place would go so horribly. Your nails dug into the palms of your hand through the thin fabric of your gloves. Not a second later, someone grabbed your arm and led you further out on the dance floor.

“There you are. Sorry, I’m late.” The man spoke loud enough for others to hear and led you toward the center of the floor.

You stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of how to act. He was gorgeous; a warm smile, with equally warm brown eyes, and broad shoulders - where one of your hands now laid upon.

“Act natural, okay?” he whispered.

One of his hands was on your waist, high enough to be tasteful, and his other hand held yours. The music reached your ears, as you were finally calm enough to register it. A waltz. Surely you knew how to waltz. Still, you found yourself praying that your legs wouldn’t betray you. Your knees were already shaky, and your feet were tired from standing all evening. The dark-haired stranger moved you across the floor, while you were looking at your feet and counting your steps. His hand moved to your chin and angled your face toward him.

“Look at me,” he said and repeated, “Make it seem natural.”

His hand returned to your waist. Without him holding your shin in place, it was hard to not let it drop again. Staring into his eyes felt like torture - a wave of overwhelming emotions hit you, the biggest one being embarrassment but confusion was a close second.

“Why are you helping me?” you whispered.

“I can’t simply leave a lady in distress to her own defenses.” He flashed a smile.

You didn’t like the way he talked about you, but you couldn’t complain when he had just helped you escape from utter embarrassment. Besides, a handsome man sweet-talking you was an ideal way to spend your night. It wasn’t as if you were going to spend more time with him after this.

“Well, thank you,” you murmured.

The two of you kept conversing in this modest manner; about the art on the walls, and the sound of the music. Futile things. Small talk. You never even learned his name, but it didn’t matter to you. When you said goodbye, he bowed down to you before escaping into the crowd. You were sure you were never going to see him again.

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You found yourself in the neighboring kingdom Ceadrotia to be sold off. At least, that’s how you saw it. The lands here were prosperous, the soil was perfect, and their harvest was always impressive. However, they lacked in their economic department. You can only win so much from a good harvest, especially when your financial system is practically nonexistent. That’s why you found yourself within Ceadrotia’s palace walls. You were the Princess of the Xaevia kingdom, sworn off to the Prince of the neighboring lands. It was a decision made to get more allies and to support Ceadrotia in their time of need. Your kingdom would give them economic growth and stability. In return, you would get better harvests and the safety of one of the biggest armies on the continent. Nothing could you do to stop this arrangement, and neither could the Prince. His Majesty Prince Hong was known to be a gentleman, but would often play this act in order to win something for himself. He was an altruistic man with egotistical goals. It wasn’t necessarily women that he wanted, for he always treated them with respect, but you had heard tales of the many mistakes no ordinary man could get out of. He was sly, and proud of it too.

After the ball last night, a supposed welcoming ball in your kingdom’s honor, you had made your mind up about him. For Prince Hong had never shown up. He hadn’t greeted you like he was supposed to, which gave you no chance to meet the man before the engagement was to be finalized. Now you’re sitting in the drawing room with the Prince’s mother, discussing meaningless matters over tea, while waiting for your father to finish talking with King Hong. So when your father entered the room with a much younger man behind his trail, you were surprised. If this were to be the King, then how young was the Prince?

“Ah, good! You’re already settled,” your father exclaimed, “Y/N, dearest, I’d like you to meet Prince Hong.”

The young man stepped into the light, and you saw that it was the man from the night before. He looked just as sharp as last night, although now his hair was hanging in front of his face instead of being slicked back. He recognized you, you could see it in his eyes, but he said nothing.

“I thought you were doing business with the King,” you said, without greeting or so much as looking at the Prince.

“Y/N-”

“My father can’t exactly sign any binding documents when he is lying on his deathbed, can he?” the Prince snapped back in a calm manner.

He was ice cold, but he kept up a professional mask.

“Joshua, honey, she couldn’t possibly know,” the Queen said before giving you an apologetic look.

“I apologize if I may have caused any offense,” you said in an irritated tone, “But your Highness must understand that I take the matter of my own marriage quite seriously, and I want it to be handled correctly.”

Prince Hong looked at you with disdain, unlike the way he had looked at you last night during the ball. However, you didn’t move your gaze from his no matter the glimmer of hate in his eyes. He clearly didn’t wish for this marriage either.

“There will be an official engagement in front of the public,” your father interrupted, “It will be held in a week, meaning that you’ll spend this time working on your… attitudes towards each other.”

“And I’ll get you a chambermaid, Princess, as we have discussed,” your future mother-in-law added.

In all of this chaos, it was nice to know that at least your mother-in-law would be pleasant company. The honeymoon days would certainly be a pain since you wouldn’t be able to have her, or anyone else to talk to, around. You thanked her with a warm smile, but it fell as soon as Prince Hong started talking again.

“We will make arrangements for you to get a new dress for the official engagement,” he said nonchalantly, “And I’ll need your finger measurements for the jeweler.”

“For a man who can’t even show up to greet your future wife properly, you sure do make a lot of demands.” You stand up. “I shall take a tour of the palace. I assume you’re too busy to make time for me, so I’ll take a maid.”

Prince Hong was visually taken aback by your blunt nature. He was clearly not prepared for this sort of conversation. Perhaps he was too used to everyone agreeing with him. You were certainly not going to be one of those people - you were set on hating Prince Hong.

Nevertheless, Prince Hong showed you around the castle despite your assumptions about him. Never-ending hallways, with tall ceilings, and the most sublime architecture. You could stare at it for hours if it wasn’t for Prince Hong who insisted on hastily making his way through each room. When he reached the library you had to practically beg him to stop. Large wooden shelves reached all the way up the walls.

“How do you ever leave this room?” you asked.

“When you have other duties it’s easy to forget these things.” He kept on walking, although a little slower than before.

You walk past a set-up chessboard, which seems to be doing nothing but gathering dust. Ignoring his comment and his seeming need to get out of the library, you stopped and sat down.

“Do you play, Your Highness?”

The maid who was chaperoning the two of you hid her giggle behind her hand. Joshua looked at you, somewhat amused but still clearly annoyed. Prince Hong sat down in front of you.

“I was taught the art of a good chess match at a very young age,” he bragged, “I had a chess master for a teacher, and my classes only ended once I could manage to win against him.”

“You talk big, Your Highness-”

“Would you stop it with the formalities?”

“Just play, Prince Hong.” You move your first piece. “Knight to F3. Your turn.”

The prince moves his knight to F6, mirroring your movements. You end up taking out his queen far too early on, with your bishop out of all pieces. He was clearly rusty, and you found it hard to not chuckle at him. When you finally got his king into a corner, you couldn’t hold back your victorious laugh at his disappointed expression.

“Seems you’re rusty, Your Highness,” you teased.

He stood up and smoothed out his suit, then held out his hand to you. Even though the gesture was kind, the bitter look on his face said otherwise. However, you stood up and shook his hand.

“We’ll have to schedule a rematch.” He cleared his throat.

“We shall.” You smiled. “I’d like to see the garden now.”

You took the lead and started walking out of the library, your hands locked behind you and your chin lifted high with pride.

Toward the end of the day, when the sun was closing in on the horizon, dinner was served in the grand dining hall. After the chess game, you hadn’t spoken much to Joshua at all. You had followed him around and ogled at the architecture of the palace, but he hadn’t spoken another word to you. Dinner was no different. Joshua barely acknowledged you, which you were pleased with. If he was half the man he was during the other evening, you wouldn’t mind marrying him. However, his attitude towards this arrangement was clear - and it was not a positive one.

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It hadn’t fully settled in that you would be marrying this man - this stranger. That realization came later during the night. While it had been fun to put this man in his place, it was not something you wished to do for the rest of your life. Together with a man who had no feelings for you whatsoever, and who you didn’t care for at all either. Your bed was large and cold. Lonely. You were beginning to feel homesick and you felt so incredibly small in this huge room. Tears began flooding in your eyes as you thought back to your childhood room, the one that you shared with your siblings. It was always filled with warmth and quiet giggles, as well as hushed, silly arguments. You used to be annoyed with your family at times, but now there were no other people that you wanted by your side. The first night of your stay in your future home, you cried yourself to sleep.

That night you dreamt of walking along a corridor in the castle, slowly being chased by people you knew - your family, servants, and, worst of all, Prince Hong. The marble floors seemed to move under you because you could never get to the door at the end of the hall. Behind you, the people pursuing you were shouting. They were shouting at you to come back, to stop - any commands they could think of, really. You could hear Prince Hong mocking you, and it was tempting to turn back to slap him. However, you couldn’t - you had to get to that door. In hindsight, it wasn’t a truly terrifying dream - but it had you waking up in a sweat. You rang the bell by your bed and asked for a cold bath, anything to wake you up.

Your bathroom, which was connected to your room with only a door between, was decorated with gold from the ceiling down to the floor. There was no time for you to appreciate it the night before, but now you were gawking at all of the details. A maid helped you undress and held a towel for you while you stepped into your bath. It was cold, as you had ordered, but you didn’t realize how cold that would be. You almost bit your tongue from just dipping your toe into it, but you still sat down. With a shaky breath in, you dipped your head under the water. You sat there for a few seconds and breathed out bubbles in the water. As soon as your head appeared again, the maid held up the towel for you. You stepped out of the tub and let her wrap you up in the fluffy towel. After thanking her, she left you to your own devices - saying something about breakfast almost being ready, and that she’d get you a proper dress for it. You walked over to the vanity mirror and sat down in front of it. There were a number of delicate boxes on the table for you to use, none of which you were very familiar with. You picked up a lotion and turned it around in your hand.

“Interesting,” you hummed as you opened the lid.

The lotion was velvety to the touch, rich in feeling but had no smell. It was important to not wear anything too fragrant, as your mother had told you before you went on this journey. If a woman were to wear too much perfume, she’d be classified as a harlot. You were unsure of why it was so bad to be a prostitute, as whenever you brought up the subject you’d be rejected immediately. You had the answer to pretty much anything you wanted, but anything sensual in nature was dismissed. It was for your future husband to teach you. Your thoughts were brought back to the task at hand, as you smeared the lotion across your face. Not too much, never too much, as your mother had also taught you. Once the lotion was applied you picked up a hairbrush. You would wait for your maid to help you put it up, but you could brush it yourself. The door opened.

“I have a dress for you, your highness,” your maid said.

“Thank you. I shall put it on now,” you said while looking at her through the mirror. “Would you help me with my hair?”

The maid helped you get ready for your breakfast. You were nervous. It was common for the Queen to eat breakfast in bed, as any married woman would, and neither your father nor the King of Ceadrotia would be present. All of this meant that you’d be alone with the Prince. If he showed up at all.

“May I put rouge on your cheeks, Miss?” your maid asked.

“Rouge?”

“It’s a mixture of strawberries and herbs, used on the cheeks for an innocent glow,” she explained. “I’m sure that the Prince would adore it.”

You scoffed, but let her proceed with putting the product on the apples of your cheeks. You felt slightly ridiculous. Before this, you hadn’t been out in society yet. This meant that you never had to worry about these treatments, and now they were all being thrown at you at once.

“I put some perfume on the sleeves of your dress as well, Miss,” the maid said when she finished your hair, “Violets, it’s a favorite amongst the women of the court.”

You only hummed. Preparing yourself for this might take more than you expected.

You walked down the hall, your heels clicking against the hard floors. Your maid followed closely behind, showing you which way to go. When the doors to the dining room opened, you were met with lonely chairs. This was worse than having the Prince here, you thought as you sat down.

“Has no one called upon the Prince?” your maid hissed at one of the servants behind you.

“He wasn’t in bed this morning,” he responded in a hushed tone.

“Leave him be,” you said loudly, “I’m sure he had better things to do than to have breakfast with his future wife.”

As you ate alone, you thought about your future here. You looked around at the decorating. Would you be in charge of such things? Despite how much your mother had explained to you, you were unsure of certain details of your role as the Prince’s wife and Lady of the castle. Someone prepared a plate for you. Was this hospitality or was it the way things worked in Ceadrotia? Would you never have a say in any decisions? You thought back to your father, who would always ask his eldest daughter for advice on his decisions - until it came to your hand in marriage. He hadn’t been able to look you in the eye, and his expression exuded shame. But it had to be done. An alliance through marriage is an alliance that’ll last forever. You stabbed the cut-up fruit with your small two-pronged fork. The memory of your father giving you the news of your arranged marriage, as if there was nothing you could do to stop it, filled you with a fit of familiar anger. Breakfast that morning was finished in haste, and you left as fast as you could.

You wandered around the castle, the passing staff watching you closely. You were trying to find the library again but had managed to get lost. There was not a world where you would think to ask for help. So you wandered, pretending you knew exactly where you were going. As you approached a pair of doors, two servants immediately opened them for you. It was a room that you had yet seen. Prince Hong had seemingly forgotten. Inside this room, light-flooded freely. The windows were large, and the curtains were open. The walls were filled with paintings, and across the floor, there were statues of the finest marble. Exquisite forms, perfectly posed in front of you. Naked bodies are exposed for you to gaze upon. You wonder if this is what Prince Hong looked like underneath his robes, although you quickly shook this thought away. As you wandered around the room you came upon a door, which a servant stopped you from opening.

“This is the Prince’s office,” he said.

“... is he in there now?” you asked.

“He is, but-”

“Let me in.”

The servant reluctantly opened the door for you, and you stepped inside. Prince Hong yelled something about being occupied. You fidgeted with your gloves, but kept walking into the room.

“I said-” Prince Hong stopped speaking when he saw you. “You.”

“Me,” you said.

“Why are you here? I’ve told everyone to keep you out of this room.” The Prince spoke as if you could not hear him, as if he had no care for what you thought of him.

“Do you really despise me that much?”

“No-,” he blubbered, “I don’t-... this is my sanctuary. I’m alone here.”

“You don’t despise me?”

“Why should I? You have given me no reason to.” He stood up from his chair and walked over to you. “I just don’t want to marry you.”

“And yet you signed the papers,” you huffed.

He was close to you now. It had been fine when he had sat behind his mahogany desk, but when he towered over you it made you feel nervous.

“I signed the papers, not because I am madly in love with you,” he said sternly, “But because my kingdom is in need. My father is ill, I must bring hope back to my people somehow. An alliance with the Xaevia kingdom is what they need, and it is what I will give them.”

You stared at the necklace, the Ceadrotian emblem lying against his chest. A raven with an arrow in its claws. The Prince cleared his throat, and you looked back up to his eyes. He was smiling, proud of making you tremble.

“I want some ground rules,” you said suddenly.

“Rules?”

“Yes, rules.” You took a deep breath. “I want you to have breakfast with me in the mornings.”

“Can’t do,” he said, “I go on my morning rides when you have breakfast.”

“You will have breakfast with me, and we’ll socialize together. If I’m going to marry, then we’ll have to be on speaking terms,” you explained, “I am not asking you to love me, or even like me, but you should at least speak with me.”

“I’ll speak with you.” He said, but when he saw your face he quickly added, “And have breakfast with you.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

He smiled again, and you swore you could hear a faint chuckle.

“Why are you so different?” you asked quietly.

“Different from what?”

“From when we danced,” you said, “You were so… kind.”

“Because you needed it,” he said.

You were taken aback by his words. Needed him? You scoffed in his face and turned your back to him, walking towards the door.

“Get this through your head,” you said as you stopped by his door, “I don’t need you. You need me, your kingdom needs me.”

Prince Hong said nothing as you slammed the door behind you.

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The days went on. You and the Prince spoke on civil terms, but never alone. Someone was always there, which kept the hatred at bay. You learned that the Prince enjoyed art, as well as a good sport and that he tended to keep to himself in his office or in his chambers. His mother seemed delighted that you had brought him out of his shell a bit more. Apparently, the Prince only went out if there was a party he could attend. Your welcoming ball must have not been good enough for him to make an official appearance. Despite your complaints about the Prince, he was starting to grow on you. It was refreshing to talk to him, especially when you got to win your small arguments. Breakfast had turned into frequent debates.

“Why shouldn’t I call you that? It’s your title!” you exclaimed.

The two of you had begun talking over breakfast when he suddenly got tired of being called by his title. You saw an opportunity to tease him and you took it.

“I don’t think it's suitable that you call me Prince when we’re going to get married,” he said.

“Ah, but we’re not married yet.” You grinned, “So, therefore, I should continue calling you Prince Hong.”

“What would it take for you to just call me Joshua?” The Prince sighed.

You picked around your plate with your fork, humming to yourself as you thought. Prince Hong was staring at you intently, his gaze practically burning through you.

“A miracle,” you proposed, looking back down at your plate.

“Then that’s going to have to be another rule,” he said.

“Oh, no, no, no…” You shook your head. “That only benefits you. The rules have to be for the both of us.”

Ever since your first rule, the two of you had started making more. There was your rule of socializing. Then, he decided to make a rule that you had to go with him to look over the horses. You agreed to this, it fits with your socialization rule. This back and forth went on, but you only agreed to rules that would do something for the both of you.

“In the end, it would benefit you too, no?” he asked. “Being seen calling me by my name would fall in line with your social thing.”

“Well… sure,” you said, “But you��re doing this to tease me with it later.”

Prince Hong rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. You enjoyed this kind of banter, it made you forget about all of the rude comments he’d throw your way. It made it all seem okay, even though you were about to marry a man who you didn’t care for one bit.

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Your nightmares had continued, each night was the same. You woke up in a cold sweat and had to take a bath in the morning. However, you learned from your mistakes. Now, you asked them to make your water lukewarm instead of ice cold. Your stress was never-ending, and the closer you got to this engagement to be official the more your stress grew. This wasn’t what you wanted, but what could you do?

A few days before the engagement was to be announced, you woke up once again. This time, it was still dark outside. You didn’t want to call for a maid, it seemed rude to wake them from their sleep yet another night. Instead, you decided to take a walk in the garden for some fresh air. You got out of bed and put on a pair of shoes. Your nightgown was made of thin material, and you decided to wrap yourself up in a scarf before you sneaked out.

The air was thick tonight, warm and humid. It was probably going to rain soon, but you’d just be a minute. You looked past each corner before walking through the halls. It wasn’t difficult to sneak around the shadows of the castle late at night. There were a few guards around, but it just meant that you had to take a longer route. Somehow, you made it out to the garden. Feeling the fresh air against your skin, not just from an open window, was relieving. Maybe you should’ve done this earlier, maybe it can cure your nightmares. It certainly felt like it could. You took off your shoes and put your feet in the grass. It tickled, but it made you feel grounded. You went over to the fountain and shook off your scarf to sit on it. Feeling the cool water grace your fingertips made you smile. This was exactly what you needed. Which is why you weren’t upset when it started raining. You welcomed it with open arms and laughed out loud for the first time in days when the thunder sounded over the skies.

“What are you doing out here?” Prince Hong’s voice echoed out over the garden.

He didn’t startle you. In fact, his presence only made you feel more joyful - someone else could share your happiness for the simple things.

“Planning my escape!” you said with a laugh.

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was amused by your delightful mood. However, when you did turn to him he didn’t meet your gaze. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but you thought you could see his ears burn red. You looked down to see your nightgown completely drenched, the thin fabric having become sheer. The dress clung to your form, leaving nothing to the imagination of the man standing in front of you; the curve of your hips, the mound of your breast - everything was on display. You gasped and tried to cover yourself up with your scarf, but the thunder and lightning started you and you dropped the fabric in the fountain.

“Please, have my coat”, Prince Hong said.

You watched him shrug off his coat. His eyes were still not meeting yours, they were pointed straight to the ground. Be that as it may, you were staring right at him. Wearing nothing but an undershirt, you watched as his skin peeked through wherever the raindrops hit the white fabric. Something bubbled up in your stomach when you watched him as he put his coat around your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said with a shaky breath.

You were staring at that pendant hanging on his chest again. The raven with the arrow in its claw. It glimmered as the lightning struck again. For some reason, the thunder and lightning that you had embraced before, now startled you. You threw yourself towards the Prince, pushing your hands against his chest. Prince Hong put his hands on your waist, keeping you in place. The two of you stood there for a moment, not moving an inch. When the lightning struck again, you let go of each other. The Prince grabbed your hand and started leading you inside.

Prince Hong led you into the parlor, there was a fire lit, and chairs pulled up around it. He sat you down in front of the fire and then got on his knees to feed more wood to the flames. You watched his drenched back work as he moved his upper body. His body wasn’t far from what the sculptures outside his office looked like. When he stood up you shifted your gaze to your hands. Your bare hands. He had held your hands without any gloves. From the new knowledge, your hands started burning and you felt your face go warm as well. Prince Hong picked up a blanket and put it in your lap, then grabbed another one to wrap around his shoulders - much to your disappointment.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

He brushed it off, settling down in his own chair. You wondered if he must have sat here before. The many books and papers littered across the table beside him told you that he had attempted to move his office here. You hid your naked hands under the blanket, suddenly feeling insecure. The Prince was watching you.

“Why were you out there?” he asked.

“Nightmares,” you said quietly, “I thought that if I couldn’t sleep, I could take a walk.”

“In the rain?”

“It wasn’t raining when I went out.” You sighed. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Why have you decided to move your entire office into the parlor?”

“Late night work, there’s a lot of paperwork I had to take over when my father fell ill,” he said, “Which is truly none of your business.”

“As your future wife I am-”

“But you’re not my wife yet,” he said with a smug look on his face, referring to your argument about his title a few days ago.

You sighed and leaned back, having nothing else to say to him. When you looked around, your eyes met a wooden checkered box. In between plush pillows and beautiful, carefully crafted, decorations, you found a wooden box that caught your attention.

“Do you want a rematch, your highness?”

The two of you were giggling, spilling your drinks on the wood while you played. The Prince had stored away a bottle of liquor and, despite your years of training to be a proper lady, you were drinking out of the bottle.

“Are you too drunk to see what a giant mistake you just made?” You giggled as you took the Prince’s bishop.

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice to you,” he said as he took the bottle from your hand.

His hand brushed against yours and you felt a giggle bubble up your throat, which you hid with a cough.

“You? Nice?” You scoffed and tried to brush off how good his touch made you feel.

Prince Hong put his lips to the bottle and drank the last of it, which you loudly protested. He only laughed it off, and seeing him chortle made you burst out as well. After he moved another piece, you put the man in check mate. You looked at him with a suspicious glance.

“You let me win,” you mumbled.

“What if I did?” He wore a beautiful loopy smile.

“Did you let me win the other time too?”

“Sadly, no.” The Prince sighed. “But I couldn’t resist this time… you get a sparkle in your eye when you win something. It’s endearing.”

Endearing. Your voice failed you when you tried to open your mouth to speak. You shut your mouth and looked down at your hands for another time. He was being genuinely nice to you. Or was this like the time at the ball? Was he just pretending to keep up an image? Except there weren’t any people here to see him. Just you. All alone with him. No chaperone, no one around for miles it seemed like; no one had come to check on the noise you were making, no one had seen you in the garden, and there was no one to disturb this moment. It all hit you at once. Looking at the Prince, he seemed to have realized as well.

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You look a bit cold.”

Prince Hong made his way around the small table and kneeled down in front of you. His hand pushed against your forehead as he looked up at you. His pupils were dilated, his lips slightly parted- they were flushed red and shimmering from a residue of alcohol.

“Prince H-”

“Please, my Princess…” he begged in a sinful whisper.

“... Joshua.” You took his hand in yours and brought it down from your forehead. “I’m alright.”

You held his hand in yours and pressed it against your cheek. Joshua’s other hand fell on your knee - it made you shiver. Suddenly he looked so desperate. Your eyebrows pinched and you looked down, right where his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hand inched closer up your thigh, making your breath hitch in your throat. Every touch made something ignite in you, but you couldn’t put it into words. You had never felt this before.

“We shouldn’t…” You brought your hands to his face.

“I don’t know what you mean, Princess.” He moved closer to you. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“... I don’t know,” you whispered.

His lips were inches from yours, and you were the one to close the distance. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his soft lips against yours. As you leaned toward him, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him. Joshua moved back as you moved down from the couch and onto his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. The kiss deepended, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip. You had no idea what you were doing, you just followed his lead. His calloused hands gripped your hips. Over the material of your thin nightgown, you could feel the roughness of his palms. And when his hands lightly encouraged your hips to move over his, you did. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The rough fabric of his pants against your core had you moaning against his lips. You pulled away from him, surprised with yourself, but you didn’t stop moving.

“Joshua…” you panted, “Why does this feel so good?”

Joshua stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. With his strong hands, he stopped you from moving. You whined and protested, but you couldn’t move.

“You’ve never-” He cleared his throat. “Y/N, I don’t think we should be doing this. Not now.”

“No, please, it was good-”

“That doesn’t matter, dearest.” He brushed his thumb against your cheek. “If you’ve never done this before, I don’t want this to be the first time.”

“Please, Joshua,” you begged and clawed at his shirt, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Then you can wait for me, can’t you sweetheart?” he hummed, “I’m going to make you feel like this again, I promise. Just as long as you keep saying my name like that.”

You’d repeat his name over and over again if it meant that he’d continue whatever it was that he was doing to you. However, you could tell he was being serious. He helped you back up and wrapped you up in his coat again.

“I’ll make sure that no one’s outside, wait here for me.”

“Okay,” you murmured.

“Good girl,” he said and left your side.

That morning you woke up sweaty again - this time, however, it was not from a nightmare. You dreamt about the Prince touching you like he had the night before, and you felt something wet pooling between your legs. It was not time for your monthly bleeding yet, so the sensation confused you. You reached down under the covers and cupped your heat over your underwear, trying to remake what he had done to you the night before. It didn’t feel as good as his hips had, but the friction did help to dull the racing thoughts in your head. Moving your hand became difficult, so you began moving your hips over your palm instead. As you began humping your hand, the doors swung open.

“Good morning, Princess!” your chambermaid said happily.

You swore under your breath before greeting her, your secret act quickly hidden away but never forgotten.

Prince Hong did not show up for breakfast. You were furious, to say the least. After asking one of the servants, you found out that your future husband was in his office. So that’s where you went next. Your heels clicked against the floor as you strutted impatiently toward his office. Walking into the art room was way more flustering than it was before. Every statue of a male figure reminded you of Joshua’s wet shirt and his hands against your hips and on your thighs. You turned around to your servants with a flustered face.

“Leave us!”

They all left the room, and you stormed into the Prince’s office. He looked up from his papers, shocked by your sudden entrance. You walked up to your desk and slammed your hand onto the wood.

“What did you do to me?” you hissed.

“Sorry?” The Prince grinned, and you wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“It feels like my entire body is on fire, you did something to me last night,” you huffed. “What did you do?”

“I apologize, but I-”

“I need you to do it again, Joshua,” you pleaded.

When he heard his name, Prince Hong’s eyes lit up. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the door, looking back at you from time to time. Your breath hitched in your throat as you heard him turn the key in the lock. In a matter of seconds, he was in front of you again. His hands hovered over your hips and, despite towering over you, you weren’t intimidated.

“Do you realize what it would mean?” he asked. “This is something that you’d do with your husband.”

“You are my husband-”

“Future husband.” He interrupted you. “This can be very sacred for a woman like you, I want you to be sure of your actions.”

“Do you not want this, your highness?” You looked down at his lips, and looked back up to his eyes.

“I’ve been wanting to ravage you since I saw you in that ballroom,” he admitted. “Containing my desire has been torture. You have no idea what you have done to me, and you have no idea how much of my energy it takes to loathe you.”

“Let me relieve you, then.” You put your hands on his chest. “I need you to show me how to get rid of this feeling. I don’t care about rules right now. Please.”

Joshua pushed you up on his desk, helping you pull up your dress in the process. You were glad that you weren’t wearing heavy fabrics or many layers today. If you had, you wouldn’t have felt his rough hands travel up your thighs or the cold feeling of the wooden table against your skin. Something that felt so good couldn’t be wrong - and his lips on yours was the most angelic sensation you had ever gotten the pleasure of experiencing. Joshua’s hands urged your legs to wrap around his waist. When you did, he lifted you up and carried you over to a chaise lounge in the corner of the room. He sat down and made you straddle him, just like you had last night. As you began grinding on his lap, Joshua smiled against your lips and wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re so eager,” he said with a chuckle. “Don’t you want to slow down?”

“I don’t think you understand how bad I need this. I’m putting aside my pride for this, your highness.” You grinned as you ran your hands across his chest. “I just need you to do whatever you did before.”

“But there’s better things to do-”

You put your pointer finger on his lips and hushed him, making him smile. A part of you still wanted control, even though he was clearly the one with the most knowledge. So you decided what you’d do and when you’d do it, he just had to show you how.

“Show me later, okay?”

He nodded before connecting his lips to yours again. Joshua’s hands gripped your hips, just as he had the night before, and he started moving you over his crotch. You moaned into the kiss. Finally getting what you had been needing the past few hours, you let go of all of your tension. Without you noticing, Joshua had removed his hands and your hips were now moving on your own.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you Princess? Moving all on your own.” His hands gently grabbed at the delicate fabric of your dress. “What a fast learner, I bet I can teach you to do things you can’t even imagine right now.”

You moaned at his words and the feeling of something hardening in his trousers. If you had been in the right state of mind you would’ve died from embarrassment, but something about this made your brain foggy and you couldn’t care less about consequences right now. He began kissing down your jaw, leaving sloppy marks on your skin.

“You like feeling dirty, baby?” He grinned against your skin. “If I knew you’d be like this, I would’ve tried something sooner.”

Your movements grew sloppy, and Joshua put his hands back on your hips. Both of your noises bounced around his office, and the lewd scene of it all made your head spin. Joshua gripped you harder, his fingertips surely leaving marks on your skin. When your head fell onto his shoulder, he chuckled and loosened his grip ever so slightly.

“Tired already, honey?”

“I feel like I’m going to explode…” you stuttered out.

“Good, baby. Means you’re about to cum,” he panted, “You can cum for me, right? It’ll make you feel so good, Princess.”

“Yeah.” You gripped at his shoulders and nodded. “Gonna cum, ‘Shua…”

“Just let go for me, let it wash over you…” He began kissing your neck again.

Something snapped in your lower stomach, and you felt what you could only describe as fireworks going off inside you. Joshua kept moving his hips back and forth until he grunted and stuttered his hips. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close while you came down from your high.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Joshua’s hand was stroking your back in a calming manner.

You could only hum in response, your entire body had gone numb and you couldn’t find it in you to reply properly. His laugh rumbled through his chest, and you nuzzled your face closer to him at the feeling. Even though a part of you was screaming at yourself to get out now that the act was done, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Joshua shifted, letting you lay down with your back on the chaise lounge. He sat up, you whined from the loss of contact, and he helped you fix your dress to cover your legs again. When he sat beside you again, he had a strange look in his eyes.

“What?” You smiled and sat up.

“I didn’t think this could ever happen with someone like you,” he admitted.

“Someone like me?”

“You’re usually a lot more high strung,” he teased.

“Excuse you,” you scoffed. “I’m fun to be around- and you can’t deny that!”

“I’m not trying to say anything, Princess-”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me! You know what?” You stood up from the couch, “This is the last time I’ll do anything like this with you.”

It was not the last time. Prince Hong taught you things about your own body that you didn’t know that you could do. The first time he ate you out, in a secluded corner of the library, you almost passed out from the sensation. Your hand had been clamped over your mouth, your legs shaking around his shoulders as he held you in place when he drew orgasm after orgasm from you. His hand appeared from under your skirt after what felt like hours, your juices dripping from his chin, and he had proudly commented on how “he won” your bet after looking at his watch.

Leading up to the announcement of your engagement, Prince Hong had taught you how to be, what he called, a good slut - a term which you both loved and hated. The day of the engagement announcement you were in his office again, this time under his desk. Your knees were probably bruised, but you didn’t care.

“You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart,” Joshua hissed. “Who taught you to suck cock like a good little slut, hm?”

Your mouth let go of his cock with a pop, and you continued stroking it. In any other state of mind, you wouldn’t dignify him with a response, but you couldn’t help yourself when your brain was in a fog.

“You did, your Highness,” you moaned.

“Good girl.” Joshua ran his fingers through your hair and made you look him in the eye, instead of staring down his reddened cock. “Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?”

You nodded excitedly and took his cock in your mouth again, trying to take it deeper and choking on his length. The bit that you couldn’t take with your mouth, you pumped with your fist. The Prince had yet to fuck you, and every day that passed made you wonder if you could actually take him. He was big and even though you hadn’t seen a cock before, it seemed like it wasn’t supposed to be this huge - especially considering how much just two of his fingers filled you up. Much to your dismay, there was a sudden knock at the door. Joshua pushed you under the desk which, thankfully, had a back to it so that the person walking through the door would be unaware of your presence.

“Come in,” the Prince said, making your eyes widen in horror.

You tap his knee, trying to get his attention, and tell him to not let another person in the room. Joshua completely ignored you, and only moved closer to the desk. The person came in and started discussing the engagement announcement with the Prince. You didn’t listen very intently, you were far too busy staring at Joshua’s, still hard, cock. His hands were on the table, unable to reach down and stop you without arousing suspicion. You took the chance at hand and wrapped your hand around his cock again. Joshua cleared his throat to cover a gasp. He kept on talking, so you took his head into your mouth again. Your tongue swirled around his tip before you started sucking him off again.

“Are you alright, sir?” the man on the other side of the desk asked.

“I’m just fine. I suppose it’s nerves.” The Prince managed to joke his suspicious behavior away, but he couldn’t continue like that forever.

You took his shaft as deep in your mouth as you could without making a sound. One of your hands stayed on his cock, but the other started massaging his balls. His cock twitched inside your mouth, and you knew he was close. The Prince cleared his throat again and asked abruptly to be left alone. When you heard the door open and, finally, close you let go of his cock again.

“Fucking slut,” he sighed and looked down to you. “Can’t keep off of my cock, can you?”

“You know I need my mouth filled if you want me to shut up, sir,” you responded with a sudden confidence.

Prince Hong was caught by surprise by your forwardness. A mixture of pride and fear swirled in his eyes as he looked upon his horny creation. You grabbed his shaft again and pumped it slowly, all while you were staring up at him with a smile.

“You can’t be mad at me for doing what I was taught, Prince Hong,” you said, “Especially not when I had such an eager teacher.”

Joshua swore under his breath as he watched you sucking him off. You kept eye contact, urging him to cum whenever he wanted - you would take it all for him. When he came, with a string of moans followed by dirty words, you didn’t swallow his seed immediately. Instead, you waited for him to look at you, and opened your mouth for him to see you before you swallowed. He reached out to touch you and graced his thumb across your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured.

“I win,” you whispered.

Joshua chuckled but didn’t try to deny it as he usually did. He didn’t even try to do anything to “discipline” you like he had tried before. He looked at you with a warm gaze, almost lovingly. Your victory, in making him cum, was trumped by his nearly romantic actions. What this meant was unknown to you.

Later that afternoon, you were preparing yourself for the announcement. You would stand in front of a crowd, beside your future husband while he held a short speech about the future alliance. Then you would speak to the people, talking about how welcomed you felt and how this would be an alliance to last. Your engagement was a symbol of hope, everything had to be perfect.

You were dressed in a traditional gown of your kingdom. It was blue, representing the oceans that surrounded your land and the peace that this alliance would bring. The Prince would, in a similar fashion, be wearing green - representing his kingdom’s many fields and forests. When you saw yourself in the mirror, you wondered if your parents would be proud of your sacrifice.

“Miss, are you ready for the ring?” your chambermaid asked.

You merely nodded and turned to her. The ring had a jewel the size of a pea, which matched the jewels in your crown. A part of you wished that Prince Hong could have given this to you himself. Would it be so horrible if he had just given the ring to you himself? He didn’t have to get down on one knee, but he could have made this more personal.

“You look beautiful,” the maid said.

“Thank you.” You gave her a kind smile, then turned back to the mirror.

There was no getting out of this now, this was the end of the road for your freedom. You told yourself you would learn to love the Prince, it wasn’t as if you didn’t enjoy his company from time to time. You put the ring on your gloved finger, the metal clashing against the white fabric of the glove.

Standing in front of hundreds of people, who were all there to see you, felt less nerve-wracking than you thought it would. You were standing on a stage beside the Prince. Your hands were strategically placed in front of you, one over the other, and making sure that the ring would show. A smile was plastered on your face as you listened to him talk. Your father and your future mother-in-law were standing behind you, also listening and smiling.

“And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with this beautiful woman.” Joshua gestured to you with a charming smile. “She is truly a symbol of hope for this land, and she shall be cherished as one.”

The last comment made your smile falter slightly, but only for a second. That word, “symbol”, sat with you in a weird way. Nevertheless, your mind is filled with scenarios of what his cherishing would entail. The Prince continued talking, even though you could barely listen anymore. When it was your turn to speak, your hands were trembling. Prince Hong must have noticed this because his hand soon appeared on the small of your back in a comforting manner. You barely remember what you said, your mind was elsewhere while you were speaking. By the look on your father’s face, however, it seemed like you said the right things. When applause reached your ears, and Joshua’s gentle hand began pushing you, you knew to go back inside the castle.

“Good girl,” Joshua whispered in your ear, only loud enough for you to hear.

You felt your knees wobble and a warm feeling spreading in your lower stomach. His hand on your back was burning through the fabric of your dress, but you never wanted him to remove it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Fuck, why did you have to do that to me when we’re in public?” you hissed as he pushed you against the wall of a closet.

His leg was shoved between yours, rubbing against your cunt. You were struggling with the fabric of your dress, pulling it up to give him more access.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Princess.” Joshua grinned.

When he began kissing down your neck, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your hips were moving on their own across his thigh, while he kissed as far down your chest as your dress would let him. He had yet to see you completely naked yet, the closest he had gotten was seeing you in your nightgown.

“Why haven’t you fucked me properly yet?” The words came out of your mouth without warning.

“I have to save something for the honeymoon, dearest,” he joked and kneeled down in front of you, “Be grateful I’m giving you anything at all right now.”

“Screw you,” you gasped as he ripped off your underwear.

You watched with a slack jaw as he put your ripped panties in his pocket. Joshua kissed up your thigh, taking it and moving it to sit atop his shoulder. One of your hands rested in his hair, while the other tried to find a surface that you could stabilize yourself on. As he delved into your heat, you accidentally knocked something off a shelf but at least you found something to hold onto.

“You’re a piece of shit sometimes,” you breathed out.

“Careful, honey,” he tutted and began rubbing your clit with his fingers. “You’re forgetting who’s in charge of your orgasm.”

“I could do this myself, you know,” you huffed.

“Oh really?” Joshua sat back. “Why don’t you make yourself cum for me then? Prove me wrong.”

You ripped off one of your gloves, the one without the ring on, and slid down the wall to sit down. Suddenly aware of Joshua looking at you, your face flushed.

“Are you going to watch me?” you asked.

“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen you like this before.”

He had. Nevertheless, you felt that all of your time spent together had gone to waste. The time that you were supposed to practice for public appearances was spent with way more private situations in mind. Was this really what you wanted?

“Prince H-”

“Joshua.”

“Joshua,” you said and closed your legs, “I don’t mind this relationship- I prefer it… but shouldn’t we try to work on our public relationship?”

He paused and then shuffled to sit up straighter. As soon as you had said it, you regretted even opening your mouth. Joshua’s expression broke you. The sudden cold and analytical eyes were a harsh replacement for his previously mischievous but warm look.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked defensively.

“We’re officially engaged,” you stated, feeling like it was obvious enough to explain your needs.

“What did you think was going to change? That we’re magically going to fall in love because you wear a ring on your left hand?”

His words cut you deeper than you expected his words ever could. It was partly his tone, suddenly changed from his teasing and flirting to the person you met after the ball. You hated this side of him. However, his words hurt because they were somewhat true. You had started thinking that this new side of him was all there was to him, now that you had gotten to know him a little better. That was your first mistake. You stood up, wanting to put space in between you but you were stuck between him and the wall. He stood up as well.

“Is it wrong for me to want love?” You started feeling stinging in your eyes. “I never wanted you. Do you know what I wanted? I wanted to love and be loved in the comfort of my own kingdom. I’m only here for you, and you can’t even bring yourself to like me when you’re not fucking me!”

“I didn’t make this choice either!” he exclaimed, “You’re not here for me, you’re here for my kingdom-”

“I am not a ‘symbol of hope’!” you interrupted. “I’m not a symbol at all, I’m human- why do you never treat me like a person, Prince Hong?”

“As if you don’t do the same to me! Why can’t you see me past my title?”

“Fuck you!” you said, as you fell short on a reply to his counter argument.

The two of you stare at each other, chests heaving. Prince Hong suddenly lept toward you, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was rough and sloppy. A tear fell down your cheek, and you gave in for a second. For a second he was the man you loved, kissing you for no other reason than the fact that he was in love with you too. You quickly snapped out of that state of mind, pushing the Prince away from you and into the shelves beside you.

“I’m going back home!” you cried, “I’ll plan this stupid wedding from there- but you have to leave me alone until then!”

Prince Hong doesn’t say a thing as you leave.

The carriage that would take you to the nearest coast, where you would take a boat back to your kingdom, was ready for you about an hour after you requested it. It only took half an hour to pack your necessary things and tell your father of your sudden departure. He took it as you expected, with grace, and told you that he’d handle wedding things in Ceadrotia before joining you for a while. The wedding wouldn’t happen for a month, so you had time to relax at home before moving your entire life to another kingdom.

A bumpy carriage ride was not what you needed right now. The over one-hour-long ride was hell, but you’d rather be in hell than stay another minute in the castle of Ceadrotia. You didn’t want to face Prince Hong for a while - what he had said to you hurt, but a part of you also knew that you were in the wrong. A combination of anger and embarrassment flooded your chest and tears flooded your eyes.

Arriving at the coast was relieving, it was a promise of finally coming home. Xaevia was surrounded by the ocean, and water was of high cultural importance. Almost every home had its own big bath, and those who didn’t could go to the many public baths around the kingdom. Water is life, and in Xaevia it was taken very seriously. So your stay in Ceadrotia had been unusual from your normal life. It hadn’t necessarily been bad, but it had only made your homesickness worse.

As you watched your things get loaded onto the boat that would carry you home, you thought you heard someone calling your name. You looked towards the boat, thinking that maybe someone wanted to ask you something about where your luggage should be, but everyone was busy and not even looking your way.

“Princess!”

Both of your guards prepared themselves but quickly went back to their natural position when they saw who it was. Prince Hong was riding toward you, having followed you on horseback. You take your time processing his presence, which is enough time for him to jump off his horse and walk up to you. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were determined.

“We should have the wedding in Xaevia,” he said abruptly, then paused as if he had forgotten all of his words. “And I’m sorry I didn’t realize your sacrifice for me sooner... if you’ll let me, I want to come with you to Xaevia and help you make the wedding that you desire.”

There was complete silence between you. If it weren’t for the ocean waves or the grunting of the men loading the luggage onto the boat, you could have heard a pin drop. The Prince looked to you for an answer, but you were unsure if you could give him a proper one. A wedding in your home country was what you wanted, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him just because of his sudden declaration. Joshua reached up and pressed his hand to his chest, right over his heart.

“I have promised my country a sufficient ruler.” He gripped the fabric of his shirt in desperation. “However, my affection and my devotion will always be with you first. I need you, Princess, and I apologize for hiding behind such a sorry excuse as I did. There is no one else that I could consider being my Queen. I need you there with me Y/N.”

There was no other sound, they had all been drowned out by your beating heart. You stared into Joshua’s desperate eyes. He longed for you, or at least he was willing to act like he did. A part of you still thought of him as deceitful, a devil with many tricks, but you set it aside for now. You took a deep breath and looked over to the ship. They were almost finished packing.

“We’re leaving now.” You looked back at him. “If you truly wish to come with me, you’ll have to leave with only the clothes on your back.”

“I don’t desire anything else than to stay by your side, Princess.”

“Good.”

The boat ride would take a day to complete and, since you had left so late in the day, you’d be arriving in the midst of the night. You were standing by the bow, looking towards where you were sailing. It was already dark, so there was not much to see, but you enjoyed the feeling of standing at the front of the ship. It wasn’t just the view; it was the feeling of the salty air, the sound of the ship plowing through the waves, and the slight rocking underneath your feet. Everything felt so natural to you.

“It’ll get cold soon, Princess.” You heard Joshua call out to you.

His footsteps echoed towards you, each step graceful as if in a waltz. He was a good dancer afterall. You felt the heavy fabric of a wool blanket wrap around your shoulders. One of his hands lingered there, and you put your hand on top of his before you turned to look at him.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For everything.”

“It’s nothing. I want you to be happy,” he admitted. “Even if this isn’t exactly what you had in mind.”

“It’s certainly not,” you chuckled and turned back to look at the sea.

In the far distance, you could see lights, meaning that you were closing in on land. You let go of the Prince’s hand, which led him to let his hand slip off your shoulder.

“It’s enough,” you added. “This is enough for me.”

Prince Hong now stood beside you, looking toward the lights as well. When you looked at him, he reminded you of the many stories of beautiful mermaids and mermen you had been told as a child. Beautiful but devious, although helpful and even generous at times. His emblem of the raven gleamed in the moonlight.

“What does the raven mean? Is your kingdom not known for its soil?” you asked.

Joshua looked down at the emblem and held it in his hand. He inspected it as if it would give him the secrets to its definition, but it didn’t take him long before he answered.

“Many people see the raven as an evil omen. It means death in certain cultures. We associate it with its insight and wisdom. The raven is always there, watching over.” He turned the jewelry in his hand. “They’re said to travel between the world of the living and the dead- they’re our connection to the ones before us. Yes, we’re known for our crops- but I suppose this is our way of honoring our ancestors, of having them with us. We come from the soil, and we’ll go back to the soil when we die- it’s the raven’s job to tell our story.”

He looked at you with an embarrassed smile, clearly feeling like he had talked too much. His hands were perched on the railing of the ship, so you placed yours beside his.

“I think it’s a good way to honor tradition,” you said, “And maybe learn from past mistakes.”

He seemed more relieved now that you had shown your interest. His hand inched closer to yours. You looked up at him. This is the first conversation you had together without throwing petty insults or interrupting each other by pressing one’s lips onto the other’s.

“I hope to show you these kinds of things in my kingdom as well, if you’re up to it,” you said.

“I’d love to,” he smiled.

This was what it was like to try, and you wished you would’ve done it sooner.

The arrival was a blur of happy shouts from your family and many hugs. Prince Hong was slightly left behind, except for a simple “hello” and “welcome”. You were finally home again, and you couldn’t think of anything else. That night you slept well in your old bed, with no nightmares in sight.

As soon as it slipped that the wedding would be held in Xaevia and not in Ceadrotia, your entire family erupted in happy shouts and screeches. The planning began almost immediately, and word was sent out to the people of both kingdoms quicker than you could have imagined. The people of Xaevia cheered for the sudden change and, while there were people who were happy for you in Ceadrotia, not everyone took it as well in the Prince’s home country. It was to be expected, and you didn’t let that slow your wedding plans down.

The wedding was to be held in Xaevia’s royal palace, and your honeymoon would be spent in a castle on one of the islands surrounding the kingdom. With everything surrounding preparations for the wedding, and finally getting to be with your family again, you didn’t have much time to spend with the Prince. You saw him whenever you were working on the wedding together; you picked out the colors together, the flowers, et cetera - all of which surprised you as he didn’t seem like the type who would do this sort of thing. Nevertheless, he was surprisingly good at it.

As you were looking at the different flowers together, you finally got a moment alone. There were guards and servants around, but it was the most alone you had been together since you had gotten to Xaevia.

“You’re not too bad at this, your highness,” you said with a small smile.

“I enjoy beautiful things.” He had a flirty tone, and the look in his eye confirmed it. “You should know that by now.”

You chuckled but didn’t delve into that sort of conversation any further. You had made a conscious effort to not indulge yourself in flirtatious conversations with the Prince because of your earlier sexual pursuits. Even though you wouldn’t mind falling into the same routine, you didn’t want to risk an argument like you had before.

“I suggest the peonies- they’re supposed to mean romance and prosperity,” you said, avoiding the topic that the Prince had tried to bring up.

“Sure, but I-”

“Red roses are beautiful but seem a little cliché, and they’re difficult to take care of.”

“Yes, Princess, but I’d really like to talk about-”

“But I don’t,” you interrupted him again, “If we talk, we fight. So let’s not talk, Prince Hong. Just tell me what flowers you think we should have at our wedding.”

“... Hoary stock,” he pointed to the pink and long flowers, “Beauty that doesn’t fade with age.”

His tone was cold again, but not as cold as it had been during your argument in the closet. It was more of a disappointed tone than anything else. Nevertheless, he was right. The hoary stock would be nice, and you were sure that you could figure out a good bouquet to decorate the halls. The woman taking care of the flower arrangement came back, and you motioned to the peonies and the hoary stock. Now that you were finished you walked out of the room with Prince Hong, but you turned away from each other as soon as you got into the hallway.

The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were shaking from the nerves. That morning had been spent scrubbing you clean and pampering you to get ready for your big day. Maids had helped you put on your white dress and fix your hair. Everything had to be perfect, and you weren’t allowed to lift a finger. When you got out of your bathroom, you were met with a surprise. Your room had been filled with flowers, a supposed gift from the Prince. You were a white dot in the middle of a sea of red. Roses gave the room a pleasant smell, but sitting there alone with them made you feel lonely. The grand gestures were nice, and you were sure that the Prince would continue giving them - but that wasn’t enough for you. It was a marvelous act, but it only showed that he had the resources to do these kinds of things for you - not that he had put any feelings behind them. You felt selfish, but you tried to shake it off.

Since the wedding wasn’t being held in Ceadrotia, and the King was still alive, you wouldn’t be crowned Queen or sworn into your future kingdom. This ceremony was only meant to celebrate the alliance of two kingdoms and the marriage of two people. Still, it was to be held in Xaevia’s throne hall. It was a long, oval-shaped room that could fit around a hundred people - which would all be seated in rows in two lines, with the aisle in the middle of the two. At the end of the room were two thrones, both decorated with white gold and blue, and above them sat Xaevia’s emblem; two seahorses with their backs facing each other, and a sword between them.

“No peeking, Princess!” One of the maids giggled and pulled you back from the curtain.

People had settled in the throne room and, if you looked out to the window on the other side of this small room, the people outside were all waiting for an appearance from the newlywed. After the ceremony, you and the Prince would walk out onto a balcony and greet the people of Xaevia, as well as the people of Ceadrotia who had arrived for this special occasion.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “I’m just nervous.”

“It’s completely natural for you to be nervous.” Your mother walked into the room.

With a big smile, you lifted up your dress slightly and sprinted over to her the best you could. The two of you embraced, and she kissed your cheek. You felt yourself finally relax.

“You’re going to shine out there, darling,” she said as she let go of you.

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I’m just happy it could be held here.”

“Well, that Prince of yours is certainly generous. It’s more than anyone else would have done, especially with the backlash he might get from his own people,” she muttered. “But! Not for you to worry about now, darling!”

Your mother didn’t have the best way with words, but you decided to try to forget about the comment. Such things could be taken care of after this wedding.

“The Prince is about to walk down the aisle,” a maid said.

“Then that’s my cue to leave,” your mother said, “I’ll see you out there, darling.”

When your mother left your side, you prepared yourself by the curtains. Your father soon joined you, and you held his arm. The music started, and the Prince walked in. You could picture his charming smile and suave walk, and you shut your eyes tight at the thought of having to look at him while slowly walking down the aisle. When the curtains finally opened, and your flower girl had taken a few steps, you started walking arm-in-arm with your father. Your eyes were on the floor, but you knew it wasn’t proper so you forced yourself to look at your future husband. He was smiling. His formal suit was blue, which you thought was a nice touch, and he wore a crown in a similar fashion to yours. The most important thing to you, however, was the idyllic look in his eyes as he intently watched you walk down the aisle. Maybe it was your imagination, but you thought you saw tears in his eyes.

The song ended and you were standing in front of him. He held out his hands to you, and you placed your hands in his. They were still shaking, but when he started stroking his thumb over the back of your hand you calmed down a little.

“Dearly beloved.”

And the ceremony started.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

After the ceremony, greeting the people, and a short celebration, you and Joshua took a boat to the island where you’d spend your one-week honeymoon. It was where you spent a lot of your summers as a child. Stepping foot on the island again, seeing that it hadn’t really changed, was comforting.

“It’s beautiful,” Prince Hong commented.

“Just as I remember it,” you added.

He looked at you with a warm smile, which he had been wearing all day. The Prince seemed to be genuinely happy, and it calmed you down. Your shoulders relaxed, and you took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. As you walked up the stone steps to the castle, he held your hand to keep you steady.

The castle was up on a hill, looking over the ocean. It wasn’t far from the coast of Xaevia, and you could see the royal palace from the beach of the island. Even though the castle wasn’t very big, and the towers weren’t very tall, it was certainly enough for the two of you. The humble stone castle gave you a warm welcome, along with its staff. They congratulated you as soon as you made it through the door. You were lucky that you had changed into a simpler dress before stepping foot on the island, walking up so many steps in a big wedding gown would have been hell - and as you entered the castle, you saw even more steps.

“Where do you want to go, my Princess?” he asked, and now it was really true - you were his Princess.

“The sun’s about to set,” you said, “Maybe we could get settled and then I can finally get to show you one of the many baths in Xaevia.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

He lifted you off your feet in one swoop and began carrying you up the stairs. A squeak escaped your lips, followed by quiet giggles and snorts. Your hands gripped onto Joshua’s shoulders and you pressed yourself against him. You had no doubt that this man was strong and stable enough to carry you, but it was still nerve-wracking.

“... where are we going?” he whispered once he reached the top of the stairs.

“Over there,” you whispered back and pointed to where he should walk.

Joshua carried you like this all the way to your shared bedroom, with the help of your directions, and both of you giggled the entire way. It felt ridiculous to act like a married couple without having had a proper courting season, but both of you leaned into the absurdity of it.

Once Joshua had managed to open the door to the bedroom and walked in, he carefully threw you on the bed. You looked around and saw that your things had already been carried up to the room. The staff works fast. The rustling of Joshua taking off his coat brought your attention back to him. Before you could process anything, he was on top of you and pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi? Is that all you have to say to your husband?” he joked.

“Shouldn’t we go to the bath? The sun is about to set, I want you to see it with a view.”

“You’re all the view I need.” Joshua kissed you again, but you quickly pulled away.

“I’m serious, Joshua,” you chuckled.

You were bothered that he could so easily float into the role of your husband, as if you hadn’t argued and as if you hadn’t had the relationship you had. He couldn’t even acknowledge it, there was no time to just talk about what you had been through together or what the future might hold.

“Okay, let’s go to the bathtub.” He huffed.

“It’s not a tub-”

The two of you arrived at the large pool of water, surrounded by pillars that supported a roof. It had three walls, to protect it from wind, and one side was an open view of the ocean. You had made it just in time to see the sunset, painting both the ocean and the water of the bath in beautiful hues of lilac and red.

“See? Not a tub.” You smiled at him

“It’s gorgeous,” he said, “Did you want to go for a swim?”

Joshua began unraveling his shirt in front of you. You widened your eyes in shock and looked around, but there was no one to be seen here. You were all alone again. He kept taking off his shirt and threw it to the ground.

“Should I help you?”, he asked as he saw that you hadn’t moved an inch.

“... I don’t know.” Was all you could say.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” His voice was sweet and laced with worry.

“Don’t-...” You sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Joshua took a step towards you, holding out his hands to you like he had during the wedding. You remembered how comforting he had been, and you took his hands. His thumb began gently rubbing the back of your hand again, and you took a deep breath.

“Who says we’re in a fight?” he asked.

“... when we were in Ceadrotia, we ended up fighting during…” You stopped yourself. “I’m sorry, this is stupid. Maybe we should just-”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he assured you. “We fought, yes. What does that have to do with now?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, “What if all that we can do is fight and… fool around?”

He chuckled at your choice of words but brought you slightly closer to him by pulling at your hands. You took a deep breath and finally looked him in the eye. His kind brown eyes calmed you down.

“You’re my wife now, Y/N,” he said softly, “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you live a good life with me. That isn’t to say we won’t fight, we might, but we can handle it together. I’m sure we can. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded.

Joshua pulled you even further towards him. One of his hands hugged your lower back, while the other held your hand. With a knowing smile, you put your hand on his bare shoulder. He slowly started swaying from side to side.

“There’s no music,” you whispered.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

You put your head on his chest, and his hand that was previously holding yours now met the other one on your back. He hugged you, still swaying slightly, and kissed the top of your head. There was no time present in this moment, Joshua had taken up your entire universe. The feeling of his skin under your hands, his smell, his soft breaths against the top of your head - the only thing that existed was Prince Hong.

“Would you help me take this off?” You pulled away to look at him. “I think I want to go for a swim anyway.”

Joshua smiled and nodded softly. He took one of your arms, running his hand across it until he reached your glove. His fingers gently pulled one of the gloves of your hands, his lips kissing every inch of skin that he revealed. When he finally removed the piece of fabric completely he threw it to the side, looked you in the eye, and kissed the back of your hand. You let out a soft laugh as he did the same with the other glove.

“Turn around for me, my love.”

You did as he said, and turned your back to him. As he began unbuttoning the back of your dress, you realized that he had never seen you without clothes on. Joshua pressed a kiss to your upper back, comforting you without saying a word. You pulled the sleeves off and let the gown fall to the floor. You were left in your corset and underwear. His expert hands worked magic on your corset, and soon enough Joshua had taken it off. With an anxious feeling spreading in your chest, you turned around to face him, your hands covering your chest.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“It would be better if I weren’t the only one naked,” you suggested.

While Joshua pulled off the rest of his clothes, you took off the last you had on and started walking down the stairs of the pool. The water was still warm, and you quickly dove in. When you came to the surface again, you wiped the water from your face and looked behind you. Joshua was waist-deep in the water, looking out towards the view. You watched him without saying anything, taking in his appearance as if it were the last time you would see him. His body looked like it was sculpted by the gods. Broad shoulders, a soft curve from his chest to the lower abdomen, and his muscles being more pronounced with the shadows created by the sunsets - your eyes had been blessed. Joshua met your eyes, and you had to stop drooling over him. Having never seen him naked before, it was difficult to not stare and you had to look away to force yourself to stop.

“You can stare as much as you want, sweetheart.” He walked further into the pool. “I’m all yours now.”

Your body sank down in the water, hiding everything except from your eyes and nose. Joshua swam towards you. Seeing you flustered over his frame clearly made him proud because he had a big grin on his face, showing off his perfect teeth. Was everything about this man perfect? How had you not seen this before?

“Can I hold you?” he asked.

You let the rest of your head peek up from the surface of the water, nodding yes to his questions. Joshua’s strong arms wrapped around you. His smooth skin under the water felt like laying down in a bed of silk.

“I’m happy that it’s you that I get to spend the rest of my life with,” he murmurs into your ear.

You’re unsure of when and why Joshua had turned so soft, but you weren’t going to complain about it. Moving your hands up his body, feeling every curve and crevice, you cupped his face in the palms of your hands. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, not thinking you’d be so forward. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, leaving him wanting more when you pulled away.

“Are you going to prove it to me, your highness?” you said with a grin, making Joshua scoff.

“Maybe I should just leave you here, hm?”

“Don’t,” you warned. “What do you want me to call you then?”

“Joshua,” you moaned out as your back hit your bed again.

The flimsy towel wrapped around your body had been pulled off as soon as you entered your room, and thrown into a corner. Joshua’s hands held onto your waist while he kissed down your jaw to your chest. Your hands tangled in his hair, and you felt him smile against your skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, “Please.”

“I’ll do more than that, my love.” Joshua crawled back up to press a chaste kiss on your lips. “I want to take care of you, make love to you.”

Instead of answering, you kissed him again. Hands cupping his face, while he pressed his body against yours. Feeling his skin on yours, his hard cock against your lower abdomen, without any fabric coming in between you felt like heaven. His slow, deep kisses suddenly turned into pecks all across your face and you giggled at the feeling. Joshua was so different from the other times, it put butterflies in your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Loving you,” he answered. “I want this time to be different. Special.”

“It is, I promise you.”

“Good.” He smiled and gave you another peck. “Is it okay if I do this?”

Joshua brought his hand down to your lower stomach, and you nodded. His fingers did quick work at spreading your wetness around and rubbing your clit before he went lower to insert a finger in you. The sensation was familiar to you, and you didn’t show a very big reaction - you were far too busy with your lips on his. However, when he pushed in another digit, scissoring them and stretching you out, you started whining.

“Think you’re ready for me?” he asked, leaning his forehead against yours

“Yeah,” you hummed.

Cumming around his fingers wasn’t new for you, but somehow he made it feel even better this time. Maybe it was the feeling of complete relaxation that you finally got around him. Joshua began rubbing his tip against your soaked cunt, making you squirm.

“... Shua,” you whined.

“God, I love it when you use my name,” he huffed out and kissed your temple.

He finally pushed inside you, slowly to make sure you got used to the different size. You gripped his shoulders and let out a quiet gasp. The quiet whimpers coming from you urged Joshua to keep going until he bottomed out, and then he stayed there. You felt completely full and unable to move.

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, voice slightly strained.

“Mhm…” You nodded. “Are you okay, Shua?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He chuckled.

Joshua shifted slightly, getting more comfortable, but the movement made you whine. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you tremble. He looked at you to check in with you, and you answered with a tired smile.

“You can move,” you murmured, “I’ll be okay.”

He answered by slowly pulling out until his tip was almost out of you, the two of you groaned and whimpered at the sight, and then plunged in you again. Joshua’s lips captured yours in a kiss again as he began moving his hips. The tip of his cock hit a spot inside you that made you see stars every time he thrusted into you. Your kiss grew needy and sloppy as your bodies moved against each other. It was impossible to ignore the growing tension in your lower stomach, and Joshua’s hands wandering across your body only egged you on more.

“You’re taking me so well, sweetheart,” Joshua mumbled against your lips.

“It’s good…” Was all you could muster to say, your mind too far gone to think.

“Adorable.”

The two of you giggled, you more so because of the rousing feeling in your stomach. It was a familiar feeling, but somehow different this time. Joshua’s bare skin was hot against yours. All of these sensations became too much; his touch, his kiss, his soft moans… it all fired you up until you couldn’t take it anymore. You warned him with one final cry of pleasure, and he came soon after you.

Joshua fell on top of you with a grunt, his cock still deeply buried inside you. You put your arms around him, one of your hands playing with the hair by the nape of his neck. He hummed happily at the feeling, placing soft kisses in the crook of your neck. Adoration filled your heart as he looked up at you again, his big doe eyes sparkling like they held every star of the universe. Over a month ago you despised the man, but now you never wanted to leave his side.

“We should go to bed,” you murmured as you played with his hair.

“Stay still, I’ll help you.”

He pulled out of you, letting out a soft groan. For once you had no trouble doing what he told you to, so you laid still on the bed. While he got the bed ready for the two of you, you just watched him. While he certainly knew that you were watching him, evident by his proud smile, he didn’t look back at you. Not until he decided to move you to lay under the covers. You winced and he cooed at you, tucking you in gently before getting under the covers himself. The bed was big but unlike your bed in Ceadrotia, you didn’t feel lonely or cold - how could it be with Joshua there with you?

“Do you think we made an heir?” you asked in a giddy tone while he cuddled closer to you.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” he hummed, “If not, we can always try again.”

“Then I hope that we didn’t.”

You laid on top of him, your head right above his chest. The two of you stayed quiet, the only sound being the wind blowing outside. Joshua’s fingers drew circles on your bare back under the covers. Everything felt so perfect.

“What would you name them?” he suddenly asked, “Our heir, that is.”

“I think I’d wait until I saw them,” you thought out loud, “Holding them in my arms for the very first time, I think it’d make me come up with a name on the spot.”

Joshua let out a soft laugh. You leaned on your elbows to get a better look at him, wondering if he was teasing you. His eyes were closed, ready for sleep. Brushing out the black strands of hair that had fallen in his face got his attention back to you. His eyes fluttered open and looked at you.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you teasing me?” you mumbled.

“I’m not, I think it’s sweet,” he said, “Just like you.”

Satisfied with his answer, you put your head back on his chest. The two of you talked a bit further, saying sweet nothings to each other before falling asleep for the first time as a married couple.

The honeymoon week was spent staying close together. You didn’t just stay in the bedroom, you ended up getting creative with your sex life again - this time without having to sneak around. Going for a swim? Sex by the pool. Have a cute picnic in the castle garden? Fucking on the picnic blanket. Suddenly horny during breakfast? Tell the staff to leave the room because you’re about to fuck on the table. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

However, you didn’t just fuck around for the entire week. You started talking, exploring each other’s interests and minds - instead of just bodies as you had before. Through your talks, you got to know Joshua as he was when there was no pressure for him to behave in a certain way. He was a naturally flirty and charming person, but he was also gentle and truly kind - and you experienced that kindness time and time again.

Good things always come to an end. When you got back to Xaevia, you were met with saddened faces - your parents and siblings wearing black. The King of Ceadrotia had passed away. Everything happened so fast, that you were unsure of what to do yourself. Joshua went back to his kingdom right away, leaving you behind. You were left to prepare for your permanent move to Ceadrotia in the midst of mourning. The wedding was only a week ago, but two entire countries are already clouded with sorrow. You wondered what you could’ve possibly done to deserve it - but shook it off as a selfish thought.

Arriving in Ceadrotia after the death of the King was contrasting from the first time you arrived. No one was smiling, everyone wore black, and the streets were practically silent. Although you had never met the King, you knew of his importance to the people. No, the country wasn’t thriving - but the people still loved their King. Seeing everyone in mourning, feeling their pain, made it difficult for you to understand how to approach the situation.

The worst part of all was seeing Joshua cry. He was sealed away in his office, which is why it was the first room in the castle you visited. Opening the door, you heard quick shuffling and sniffling. You saw Joshua wipe away his tears with a paper towel before turning to you.

“Shua…”

“Please, don’t pity me.” Joshua sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll be fine. Everything’s fine.”

“How can everything be fine, Joshua? Your father-”

“Everything has to be fine,” he snapped, “I have things I need to do, Y/N. Please leave.”

“But you’re in mourning!” you said as if stating the obvious, “You have to spend time with yourself and loved ones to get over this-”

“Leave, Y/N. I don’t have time for this.”

This was not the Joshua you had just spent an entire week with, nor was it the Joshua you had met when you first got here. In a matter of days he had built up a wall around himself, and you didn’t know how to connect with him. You left the room without a fight - you didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was like this. However, seeing who Joshua could be when it was just the two of you, made you want to try to help.

For the next few days, you didn’t see Joshua. He was working, eating, and sleeping in his office. Every day was spent with worry and sorrow settling deep in your bones. Worry for your husband’s well-being and health. Sorrow for his loss, which was in turn your loss. You never spoke with the late King, but you had only heard good things of him. Seeing the grief of not only your husband but the people of Ceadrotia as well was enough to understand what a loss it had been. However, this didn’t mean that Joshua had to put his health at risk. As his wife, you felt that it was your duty to take care of him - even with his many servants and maids. Only you could take care of his mind.

Seeing the Prince in the dining room was an unusual sight. He was disheveled - his hanging eyelids and puffy eyes were evidence of his lack of sleep, and his unkempt clothing proved that he had stopped caring about his appearance. He sat down in front of you, on the other end of the table, but refused to look at you. Instead, he stared at his empty plate, not even bothering to put breakfast on it.

“Joshua…”

He looked up and met your eyes.

“I’m tired.”

You stood up from your chair and walked around to be by his side. Kneeling down by his chair, you looked up at him. His eyes were teary and lacking in luster. Although you were unsure if he would let you touch him, you reached up your hands to cup his face. To your surprise, he gladly leaned into your palms.

“I know, my dear,” you hummed. “You know that I can help. All you have to do is ask.”

“... will you help me, my love?” Joshua put his hand on top of yours.

“Always.”

While Joshua rested and spent time with his mother, you went on to plan for the funeral. With his guidelines, it was impossible to not do what Joshua had planned all along. The grand hall was prepared with flowers and the magnificent things that the King loved dearly. But it was to be kept simple and elegant. As you planned the funeral, you also began setting up for the coronation. The throne room was prepared for your introduction to the Ceadrotian family, and Joshua’s introduction to his new role.

The funeral went on as it ought to, but even with its success it brought you no satisfaction. It was to be expected, but the layer of despair hanging over all of you laid especially heavy on your shoulders. After the funeral, you went to your room with Joshua. He said that he needed to lay down and rest, and you could only follow. When you watched him sit down on the bed, watched as his entire frame shrank in defeat, you wanted nothing more than to comfort him. But comfort like this could not be spoken with words, it had to be spoken directly from the heart. You sat down next to him, placing a kiss on his cheek and putting a hand on his back.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that right now,” Joshua murmured.

“Do what?”

Joshua looked up with you, his eyes speaking for him.

“No, of course not, darling. I don’t want that either.” You took his hand in yours. “Not everything that I do with you is about sex, you know?”

“... now I feel foolish.” Joshua put his head in the crook of your neck in an attempt to hide his reddened face.

“Don’t,” you warned. “I don’t blame you. It’s all we’ve known, but I don’t want it to be like that in the future.”

“I haven’t even thought about our future…” He put his head in his hands, removing himself from you completely. “I feel like I have already managed to fail as a husband… I knew my father was ill, I knew it all this time. And it still managed to shake me to my core. I crumbled so easily under pressure, I completely forgot about… well, everything else.”

You stood up and walked over to the head of the bed and pushed the sheets aside. It got Joshua’s attention.

“I haven’t changed.”

“Just take off your overcoat and shoes. You need to lay down.”

Without question, Joshua did as you said. Once he had gotten in bed, you got in next to him. The two of you were facing each other, and you did your best to smile when he couldn’t.

“Now what?” Joshua asked.

“Well… do you want me to tell you of my plans?” you asked, and Joshua nodded. “Okay, let’s see… I’ve pictured us a lot in Xaevia. Going on visits, especially to the countryside. I know you’d adore it and… well, the children would as well.”

“Children? Are you-”

“No, no… not yet.” You grinned. “But our potential children would love it. And then I’ve also spent some time thinking about our life here. About you and I spending our evenings here together, about me beating you at chess every now and then.”

“You haven’t beaten me that many times.”

“Enough times,” you said sternly. “We would, of course, take care of the horses together.”

“I miss that,” Joshua hummed.

“Then we can go for a morning ride tomorrow.”

“Good.” Joshua cupped your cheek in his palm. “Thank you, my love. You’ve successfully cheered me up.”

“I’m glad.”

“Would you mind telling me more about our children?” he asked.

You let out a small laugh before you began telling him about your future plans.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽YEARS LATER☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Joshua? Could you come here, darling?”

Giggles and eager footsteps echoed through the grand halls of the castle of Ceadrotia, just on the other side of the bedroom door. Joshua took his attention away from putting on clothes to look at you. He had just gotten back from a bath, his hair wet and slicked back. A smile played on his lips as he walked up to the side of the bed.

“Good morning, my love.” He leaned down next to you, his wet hair dripping over the sheets.

“I don’t know about good morning, since you let me wake up alone.” You held his face in your hands. “But I think you should know that there are a few people who are very eager to see you just outside the door. They told me you need to hurry, they’re very impatient little creatures.”

“Ah well, if they’re so very impatient.”

With long strides, Joshua walked up to the door. The giggles persisted - grew louder, even. Joshua opened the door in a haste. Roaring shrieks sounded across the room, followed by loud laughter. Your husband kneeled down and caught the children in his arms.

“You’re all awfully carefree today,” Joshua said as he gave the two children a morning kiss on each of their foreheads. “And how did you come up with this ambush?”

“Mother helped us plan it!” Your oldest daughter grinned proudly.

“Your mother helped, huh?” Joshua looked back at you. “Always the mastermind behind these schemes.”

You smiled from your place in the bed, waiting for them to attack you as well. As you expected, the two children ran to you as soon as their father let them go. Joshua closed the door behind him, following the kids to your bed. They climbed up and laid down next to you, your son having a bit of trouble getting up.

“I feel bad that our sister can’t join,” your son said.

“She can’t walk yet,” Joshua answered, “But we can go see her in the nursery right after this.”

“Only if she’s awake,” you warned.

“Of course, my love,” Joshua said with a smile. “We don’t want to wake our sleeping beauty.”

“Don’t try to smooth over you leaving me to my lonesome this morning.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He tried to charm you with another loving smile, but you turned to your children instead.

You could feel his eyes on you, as you intently listened to your children ramble on. They always said just what they were thinking, and it was adorable to witness. But even with this sight, you could not ignore your husband for very long. Sometimes it seemed like your husband needed even more attention than your children. At some point, the nanny came into the room and took away the children - finally letting your husband have all of your attention.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes, so what is it?” You shuffled closer to him.

“Am I not to stare at my beautiful wife?” He huffed. “All I want to do is stare at you.”

You let out a short laugh and tried to get up but you were stopped by Joshua, who held your wrist to keep you in bed.

“Stay. We have nothing planned for the day.”

“But the children-”

“Can wait,” he finished your sentence. “Let’s just have a moment to ourselves.”

Joshua leaned up to you, and you met his lips halfway. It was a short kiss, but tender. It left space for the possibility of something more, it lingered in the room.

“Did you mark the calendar for when my bedrest after the baby would end?” you quipped with a quirk of your brow.

“So you are off bedrest?”

“As of two days ago.”

He leaned in for another kiss, this time more passionate, and took the opportunity to crawl on top of you.

“May I?” Joshua played with the neckline of your dress. “I’ll be gentle with you, my Queen.”

“I can’t say the same for me, my King.” You grinned, pouncing on the man on top of you.

#svthub #seventeen #kvanity #svt #kpop fanfiction #svt fluff #joshua seventeen #joshua imagines #joshua x reader #joshua hong #bee buzzed εїз✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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lost-girl-2021 · 1 year

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Adopted Spider Headcanons (Metkayina Edition)

I've been reading fics where Spider's adopted by Ronal and Tonowari the past couple days and now I'm obsessed. The problem is that I mostly write angst and I really wanna read hurt/comfort, lol.

I feel like the typical/common way that I see Spider get taken in is basically him doing his little beach bum shit after everything and slowly getting adopted into their family. And I eat it up. Every. Single. Time.

Spider: *Building a campfire, roasting his own food* Ronal/Tonowari/Tsireya or Anoung: *Why is the Sully's adoptive son alone on the beach?* *Oh well, mine now*

I feel like Ronal would definitely be way at first, she's made it no secret that she strongly dislikes Sky People. But, I'd imagine that eventually, she comes to see him not just as a human, but as a child. And a child who is alone and in need of help.

Aounung would probably be the same. I have this idea of him giving Spider a hard time (after all the carnage/damage/dead people have been handled). Like, trying to mess with him as much as possible, just being an asshole. And then, maybe Spider goes under for a long time while Aounung is on the beach weaving or something. And, even though Spider has a mask and can breath underwater as well as he does above it, Aounung somehow forgot that and freaks, thinking the human has drowned.

Aounung tossed his half-repaired net aside, diving into the water. He whipped around, eyes catching on the mess of dirty blond. Pushing further, he grabbed the boy by the armpits, shooting to the surface and pulling the human onto land. He flipped him over, meeting confused eyes as he placed a hand on his chest. He was breathing fine, not even panting from being under for so—

Spider's mask glinted in the sun. Aounung was an idiot.

"Are you . . . okay?" The smaller boy asked hesitantly, making no move to sit up.

"You were under for a long time." He mumbled, pulling away.

Spider's face split into a grin. "Did you— did you think I was— "

"Quiet." He hissed, standing up. "We will never speak of this again."

Spider's laughter followed him as he stormed away.

I feel like with Tsireya, she would've immediately been all over him. Like, this is Spider, Lo'ak's supposed best friend. The human boy who acted just like he was Na'vi. It probably started mostly as curiosity, but I think that after seeing how the Sully's interacted with Spider, she'd be confused about his place, his family. If Spider didn't sleep in the Sully's marui, didn't eat with them— then where did he do those things?

Tsireya glided along the water, Lo'ak a few feet from her. "Why doesn't Spider stay in your marui?"

Lo'ak raised a brow. "Uh . . . I don't know. He lives with the humans, I guess. Always has."

"But . . . the humans left after helping Kiri. They have not returned."

"They . . . they haven't?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure Dad has it handled. There's probably a new shack or something for him."

Consider Spider's mask running low and there isn't a spare anywhere. As a kid, he never was gone from the shack long enough for his battery to run low and during his time with the recoms, there were always spares in someone's pack when he needed it. Idk how long the masks last, but for my own sake, I'm going to say Spider got a new one the day of the battle and it lasted him about a week. Or maybe, he managed to pillage one as the ship went down so he's on his second and it's like two weeks or so.

I think that when he saw the little red light flashing, a small beep-beep sounding, that he'd probably be like a kid who forgot there was a test. He'd just panic. But, I imagine he'd also be scared to bother the Sully's by telling them, so he'd spend the next hour searching the village (discreetly) to see if there were any pilfered batteries or masks left behind when the humans visited. Let's say he has two hours from when the mask starts flashing to change it out. And where, oh where, does he wind up when he's got a half-hour left?

Spider was not panicking. Because, when a human panicked, they breathed faster and wasted more air. Norm told him that, so it had to be true. But, he'd checked everywhere he could think of and . . . nothing. There was no shack, no Norm or Max to run to before his timer ran out. No humans. Only him. And in a matter of . . . fuck, twenty minutes, he was going to die just like a human.

He sat slumped on the beach, looking out into the water and trying his best not to openly sob. He didn't want to die crying like a little baby. It was not working out well for him. At least, he'd have a good view when he died.

"Child? What is wrong?"

Spider flinched, looking up with wide eyes at the clan leader. He'd only talked to Tonowari once, when Jake had introduced him. Of course, given his spectacular luck, the man would find him when he was on death's doorstep.

With a sniffle, he held up his beeping pack. "It's almost out. Twenty minutes."

The man frowned down, grasping the device carefully. "And that is why you're so upset? Because, you don't wish to go into the village for a new one? Did something happen? Someone make you feel unwelcome?"

"There is no new mask." There was also no home to go back to. "That was my only one."

With a cut-off gasp, he pulled Spider to his feet. He marched the boy through the village and into what he recognized as the healer's marui. The Tsahik was mixing something, but she stood as soon as they entered.

"Tonowari?" She asked, stepping closer. "What happened? Is he hurt?"

"His mask, where's the spare?"

Wordlessly, the woman pulled a mask from one of the many baskets, easily connecting the tubing and turning it on. Like, she'd done it before. Spider had no time to ask why she had such a thing before she was right in front of him.

"Take a deep breath." She ordered, unlatching the straps of his mask before pulling it off. Just as quickly, the new one was secured. Spider hadn't even moved.

I think that even before deciding to adopt Spider, Tonowari and Ronal would probably make sure he had spare masks and check what food he could/couldn't eat. Like, as soon as they realize the Sully's aren't caring for him, they'd probably subconsciously take responsibility for him. Because, he was just a kid, really. And kids were clumsy and careless and needed help, needed parents. Anoung and Tsireya, despite being independent and skilled, still needed their parents sometimes. Let their mother do their hair and insisted on their father de-gutting their catches. And Spider— Spider is fragile. He's skilled and smart and quick on his feet, but he's a human surrounded by Na'vi. Not to mention, one wrong move and he's left with a cracked mask. And what if he eats the wrong food, mistakes one fruit for another and ends up poisoned?

This ended up way longer that I thought it would be, lol. But, I really love these types of fics and if anyone has any recs or wants to hear more, my comment section is open. XD

#atwow spider #spider avatar #avatar #atwow #avatar fanfiction #avatar way of water #spider #miles spider socorro #atwow fanfiction #tsireya #anoung #tonowari #ronal #adopted spider socorro

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weird-obsessed-girl · 2 months

Text

Harry dealing with abuse trauma/people finding out about Dursley’s treatment

Ok so I didn’t know exactly how to word this particular genre of Harry Potter fanfiction, but I have been reading some fanfics where either the teachers, Sirius or the golden trio find out that Harry has been abused by the Dursley’s and how Harry deals or heals from that trauma. #cupboardreveal

so therefore below is a list of fanfics that deal with this topic, this is pretty obvious but TW for child abuse, some of these I haven’t read yet so i don’t think any of them feature active abuse, more so past abuse.

All of these will be angst but many with a hopeful/happy ending. Organised by word count. If you would like some fic recs that don’t focus on Harrys abuse here’s the link to my master list Harry Potter Fic Rec (mostly Drarry)

How Each Weasley Found Out About The Dursleys - burnthebodiesandbedonewithit

What it says on the tin, Harry/Ginny (very light tho), protective Weasleys | G | 1k

Food For Thought - LoveHP

Snape notices some things throughout the years, have not read yet so IDK | T | 1.2k

Bottle It Up - mallfacee

Disabled Harry, Severitus, hurt/comfort, hiding medical issues, apart of a series | T | 2.1k

Aftermath - CreateImagineWrite

Post-final battle, Harry is dealing with trauma, Ron helps him and finds out, Trigger Warning for food issues and trauma responses | G | 3.1k

Disguised as something else - aloneintherain

Everybody lives, au war ends early, Wolfstar custody of Harry, hurt/comfort, THIS IS SO GOOD #cupboard reveal | T | 3.1k

Muggle Management - LadyWinterlight, NerdyKat

Hermione recognises the signs of abuse, part of a series, Hermione finessing the muggle system | G | 3.4K

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell - IamShadow21

Not focused on past abuse but is mentioned, Ron and Harry friendship through the years | T | 3.7K

The Cupboard - GreenEyesGreySkies

Drarry, panic attack, harmless prank that turns out to not be so | T | 4K

Bruised Hearts and Painted Skin - mikimouze16

Lupin, McGonagall and Snape find out, therapy, depression | G | 4.4K

Cascade - taradiane

Drarry, post-Hogwarts, Harry has nightmares, discussion about the Dursleys | PG | 4.7k

Claustrophobic- Annie1025

Summer at Spinner’s End, sevitus, 5th year, hurt/comfort, panic attacks | T | 4.8k

Where the Sunbeams Start - zedpm

Sirius/Severus, Soulmate au which leads to Severus getting Sirius freed, then they adopt Harry! T | 7.1k

Locked Cupboards - Lomonaaeren

Redemption, Draco is assigned to guard Dudley, Dudley talks about their childhood | T | 7.2k

Darker Than You Think - Lomonaaeren

Drarry, Draco is very much a psycho, bent on revenge, dubious consent | M (definitely should be E) | 7.8k

Fac Mihi Viam - MistressKat

Canon divergence, Harry stays at Grimmauld Plac, abuse not necessarily discussed but implied, Wolfstar | T | 7.9k

The Uncle - copprbadge

Wolfstar, gangsters au, Remus saves Harry from Dursley’s | T | 7.9k

Tugging Sleeves - Windschild178

Harry isn’t responding to Rons letters, POV Ron, Ron to the rescue | G | 8.1k

Harry Potter And The Summer At Grimmauld Place - Silver_Queen_DoS

What it says on the tin, Sirius is free, home renovation, book 3 | G | 8.6k

Listen - Marchling

Need to sign into Ao3, Sirius spies on Dursleys, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, reconciliation | T | 10.9k

Finite Incantatem - skullcandy11

Rogue spell hits Harry and reveals some truths, manipulative Dumbledore, Harry joins the dark side | T | 12.3k currently, ongoing

Scars - pheonixgirl26

Some Gryffindor’s see some of Harry’s scar, and decide to help | M | 12.5k

Timeshare - astolat

Honestly i have not read this yet but it looks promising, Harry is spending summer at the Dursleys and then the Malfoy’s | M | 14.1k

Seven Plus One - ABlackRaven

Sirius adopts Harry, 7 times Sirius is called uncle and 1 time he’s called dad, Peter caught, hurt/comfort | T | 15.4K

What’s Left Unsaid - angel74

Post-Order of the Phoenix, Hermione and Ron look into Harry’s life at the Dursley’s, angst, hurt/comfort | T | 16.1k

A Hero - Celebony

Dudley begins to see his family in a different light | T | 18.1k

The Lioness - Aya_Diefair

Molly becomes suspicious of Harry’s relatives, she visits them, BAMF Molly, Sirius is freed | G | 18.3k

That’s Your Punishment? - slytherclaw7

Molly actually asks Harry questions, this is definitely a fix-it fic, Sirius is freed, Peter is caught, Dumbledore bashing, Tonks family taking Harry in | IDK how fanfiction.net ratings work | 19k

Pinky Promise - etymolodrarry, huffinglepuff

Remus is observant, angst with happy ending, Dumbledore bashing, implied self harm, Wolfstar | T | 19.5k

Listen Now - mrsfizzle

Harry confides in Remus, hurt/comfort, Wolfstar adopts Harry, moving into Grimmauld | G | 21.2k

Conquering the Dark - noeon (noe)

Healer!Harry and neuromagic!Draco, both work together, unearths trauma | E | 23.7k

The Chamber of Secrets and Half the Adults are Idiots - Des98

Apart of a series, Drarry, Harry recognises Lucius’ treatment of Draco, fix-it, inter-house friendships | M | 42.8k

The Article - LeeASherlook

outed by the Daily Prophet (not in the gay sense), 6th year, Drarry friendship | T | 43k ongoing

Burnt - lastcrazyhorn

Disabled Harry, Slytherin!Harry, have not read so refer to tags | T | 104.9k

Memories and Dreams - paganaidd

Series, one part Dudley’s POV | T | 140.3k

Malfoy Family Values - belana, Merry1978

This only really mentions Harry’s mistreatment but i thought it is an interesting fic to possibly explore, Malfoys adopt little Harry | G | 141.7k

Stronger At the Broken Places - enigmaticblue

More so focus’ on Sirius’ trauma, but it’s a whole Wolfstar family affair | T | 174.9k

Digging for the Bones - paganaidd

Hogwarts starts screening students for abuse, Snape conducts Harry’s screening, Snape is Harry’s bio dad, Severitus | M | 212.2k

The secret language of plants - Endrina

Severus/Remus, Sev rescues toddler Harry, this is a series of Severus/Remus being Harry’s parents, pre-Hogwarts to post, future Drarry | rating varies | 373k

Innocent - MarauderLover7

Ok so this does not focus on Harry’s abuse but Sirius gets freed and raises Harry when he’s 8 | M | 487.5k

A Year Like None Other - aspeninthesunlight

Disability, slightly Severitus, 6th year, canon divergence, Snape forces Harry to read letter from Dursleys | T | 789.5k

#remus lupin #wolfstar #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius raising harry #severus snape #harry potter fic rec #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #Harry Potter abuse #the dursleys #protective wealseys #drarry #drarry fic rec #bamf molly Weasley #bamf Ron Weasley #dumbledore bashing #severitus #the daily prophet

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thelov3lybookworm · 5 months

Note

I was listening to hyunjin's Ice Cream and this idea came to me loll. Idk if you do these kinda requests but can you do a fic inspired by the ice cream lyrics? 🥹🥹

Azriel with reader who's really cold but he's still hopelessly in love with her? (I love hopeless romantic az 🫶🫶) but not too much angst please I need fluff and happy endings, otherwise my heart wouldn't be able to take it 😔

Ice to cream

Summary: Azriel has a stoic exterior, and no soul has ever really seen what is underneath.

But then he met someone as cold as ice, and was ready to be her sweet cream.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: okayyyyy i feel like sweet cream sounds weird but my brain thinks its cool so ignore it 😉

also, i looooove you anon, thank you for this ask ❣️

enjoy!

•○🌑○•

That day had been like any other.

Azriel had been walking down the winding streets of the city of starlight, whistling to himself.

It was rare that the shadowsinger whistled, but that day he had simply been feeling like it. It was also shocking to his own self how carefree he had felt that day and had decided to take a walk instead of locking himself up in his office and finishing up reports while wallowing in self pity since Rhys had banned him from visiting the third Archeron sister.

The day was beautiful, nothing to signal that the shadowsinger's life was about to be turned upside down.

Azriel had been walking past a bookstore, and there was nothing that could have prompted him to turn his head to look at it, but maybe some unseen forces were at work, because he glanced at the storefront, and then decided to step inside for a moment.

The inside was cosy, the light streaming in from the multiple windows not too harsh, dust motes dancing as if to an unheard song. The store was quiet except for the occasional turn of a page or the purring and meowing of a cat.

Azriel had no reason for going into that bookstore, but once there, he decided to see if he could find a small book to read when he felt like lazing about and not writing reports.

Walking through the multiple aisles, Azriel let his gaze wander.

It was some time later, when his fingers were absently caressing the spine of a book in the fantasy section and he was about to leave without a book because nothing caught his fancy, that a loud, irritated meow sounded nearby, and Azriel winced.

A blur of orange fur in his periphery caught his attention, and the moment he glanced to his left, a cat shot out from between the shelves, knocking over some books and racing towards him.

Azriel stood frozen, until another meow sounded, and a black cat and pretty female came into view. She had an annoyed look on her face as she chased the two cats, and, in his whole five hundred years of existence, Azriel had never thought he would experience at love at first sight.

He wasn't one to judge whether people deserved his time and love by their looks. He usually tried to know them personally before he did.

But here she was, chasing two cats as they knocked over books, and Azriel could not breathe.

Azriel's shadows whispered that if he caught hold of the cats, he might be able to talk to her.

The spymaster wasted no time, scooping up the orange cat as the female picked up the snarling black cat.

She panted heavily, holding tight to the wiggling cat. Azriel didn't have to struggle though, the orange cat simply stopped moving the moment Azriel's shadows swirled in front of its eyes.

The female sighed, muttering something about food in the black cat's ear, and that finally managed to get the animal to calm down.

She glanced up at Azriel, shaking her hair out of her face, her face emotionless.

She walked forward, grabbing the orange cat from him with a mumbled thank you, then walked away. Azriel raised his hand to call for her, but she had already left.

Disappointment hit him from all sides, from his own self as well as his shadows, and he was left to wonder why.

Azriel left the store without a book that day, and the pretty female had not even glanced at him as he left, and that gave Azriel a purpose.

He would have to return.

To get a book, of course.

•○🌑○•

Azriel feared she would beat him in his broody spymaster act if given the chance.

It had been a month since Azriel had first visited the bookstore, and so far, he had come nearly everyday to the store in hopes of getting her to talk to him. And, obviously, to find a book to read.

He had been unable to get any responses from her as of yet that were not one word answers, but Azriel pretended that he was making progress. That he was beginning to crack the hard shell around her.

Currently, she was arranging some books, balancing precariously on the ladder that lay against the tall shelf. Azriel watched, alert and tense in case she lost her balance and would need assistance.

It didn't take long, as she winced a moment later and started rubbing her eyes with one hand, his shadows whispering of how dust had gone into her eyes.

Azriel was next to her in a moment, his grip tight on the ladder as he smiled up at the female, and she glanced down, a frown on her face.

She put the books in her hand back into their place before she began descending the ladder. The moment she touched the ground, she scowled, turning to Azriel.

He blinked in confusion, though he still kept that smile on his face.

"Were you trying to look up my skirt?"

His smile faded, and his eyes went wide as his brain registered how inappropriate his actions might have seemed.

"I- no- I would never- I-" He sputtered, at a loss for words.

The female gave him an unimpressed look, turning away.

Azriel was frozen in place for a moment until his shadows whispered to him about how this was a good opportunity to talk to her. They screeched in his ears, and that finally got him moving as he followed behind the female, tripping over his own feet as he tried to get her attention.

"Hey! Hey wait!"

She paused behind a shelf, half turning to him.

"I was not trying to look up your-"

"Doesn't matter if you were. Happens often enough that it doesn't bother me."

Azriel froze, his brows scrunched. She made to continue walking, but his shadows shot out, the ones next to his ear letting out an exasperated sigh.

The female glanced down at her hand in confusion, to where the shadows were twisting around her wrist and weaving through her fingers.

The female's eyebrows rose, and she looked up at him.

He pulled them back hastily, heat rising in his neck and face. "Um. Forgive me. They sometimes don't want to be controlled and do whatever they want."

She turned to him with a sigh, and Azriel had to wonder if he was dreaming when he saw her lips twitch in the slightest.

Master is not dreaming. He is simply dumb. A shadow whispered as it bobbed away from Azriel's ear, swirling around itself as if in a dance.

Azriel squashed the urge to snarl at it.

"What do you want?" Azriel whipped his head to look at the female, finding her staring at him with a bored expression on her face.

He cleared his throat. "I would like to know your name."

"Why do you want my name? Are you going to put some enchantment on me?"

Azriel opened his mouth to deny any harmful intentions, but again he got distracted by his shadows' whispering.

We wish to engrave it on master's skin.

The heat Azriel's face increased.

"I-I just want to know. No reason..."

She studied him for a moment. "Y/n."

Oh it will look beautiful carved on master's chest.

It will look better on his face.

On his forehead. No one would then try to steal him away.

Or maybe on his hips-

Or butt-

To the outside world, it would simply look like his shadows were floating leisurely in the air, but Azriel could barely think straight through their unnecessary commentary.

"A-Azriel. I am Azriel."

She snorted, turning away. "I know."

He followed her as she stalked through the shelves, his mind having stopped working the moment she gave him her full attention.

"How do you know that?"

"You are not really subtle with who you are."

"Oh?"

"Everyone knows you are the spymaster of this mother forsaken court."

If anyone else had insulted or even thought something bad about his court, they would be chopped into pieces and thrown into the Sidra before they even took their next breath, but then again, Azriel's brain had stopped working, and all he could think about was the fact that she knew who he was.

"So you've heard about me?"

"Yes."

"So can I ask you out to eat with me?"

She froze in her tracks without warning, and Azriel, who was usually very good on his feet, rarely stumbled, even when drunk, slammed into her, taking both of them down.

She wiggled under him, trying to get him off of her, and he scrambled to follow her wish.

She glared at him as she straightened into a kneeling position, dusting off her clothes.

"What makes you think that?"

"Nothing." He mumbled, embarrassed that he was acting like a young boy who had only learned the concept of reproduction and how it happened.

She climbed to her feet, but Azriel's hand shot out to grip hers.

Master finally did something right without having us guide him.

We must celebrate.

Azriel decided he was going to kill his shadows, but that would have to wait for now.

"Please. I want to take you out."

Y/n studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she sighed.

"Fine."

A sudden burst of excitement took over Azriel, and he jumped to his feet.

"Amazing. Can I pick you up at sunset today?"

She nodded, and before Azriel could even realize what he was about to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her cheek. Then he simply turned away, and sprinted out of the shop, already thinking about what he would wear and wich restaurant to take her to.

As he left, he didn't watch as the female who had captured his attention with a few cold looks, who was as cold as ice, lifted her hands and ran her fingers over where his lips had been a moment ago, her eyes blown wide and lips parted.

She stood there, unmoving, for mother knew how long before she glanced around, hoping no one was near.

And then, she let herself smile.

A shy, unbelieving smile as her face flushed.

And there, in the dark shadows between the shelves, her ice exterior began to crumble.

Cracks appeared.

Cracks in which he would plant himself so deeply, so thoroughly, and begin to weaken the mighty walls around her heart.

•○🌑○•

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

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teenandbeyond · 2 years

Text

Yautja x Fem.Reader

Edit: I see someone wants a part two, if ya'll get this to 200 notes by next Saturday, I'll totally do it. I'll give ya a little extra if you make it to any number higher than that, even by one. *genuinely intrigued about how this'll go* Edit 2: Here it is babes, Part 2, Part 3

I hear people are looking for this so, here. Also, this is my shitty attempt at a dark fic, because I wanna try one--even though it's faaaar from my regular style, I'm far from a darkfic writer, but I like challenges-- and it seems many people have been craving a dark fic of Yautja more than not, so I'll hopefully help y'all out (I wrote this when I was sleepy so idk how it was). *puts all smutty writing experience into this*

Want more from me? Ask or check out my Masterlist!

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

Breed (Predator)

Warning(s): Probably the smuttiest smut I've ever smutted, noncon details, breeding, rough, unprotected, a creamy little pie, size difference, triggers (so do not read if they apply to you), this turned long asf.

You survive with a Predator who killed all of your friends...but it seems the Yautja have taken an interest in you and don't plan to let you leave...

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You groan out, tossing your head to the side.

What makes you realize you aren't in your bed is a few things.

There's an echo.

It feels like you're laying on a hard table.

Your wrists are bound to your chest.

Your ankles are weighed down by something heavy, which after moving around your toes you realize are cuffs connected by a chain, where most of the weight came from.

And most importantly, you can't see, you noticed as your lashes fluttered against a cloth.

"Where am I?"

"Above earth," an amused, disembodied voice responds.

A familiar voice, one of your friends.

"Ester...? I thought you died..."

"What you didn't see didn't happen."

"Hey, can you take this stuff off me?" you grunted as moved to shift your arms to no avail.

"Why would I do that? I put you there."

Your brows furrowed, "What?"

"You see. That whole thing was a setup, I was working with them this whole time."

"But why? They killed your friends! Our friends!"

She chuckled, "Oh, that's what you believed. I was just doing my job to survive. To find them the perfect specimen."

You grunted as you struggled and failed to loosen your restraints.

"You see, they've been for years, creating more advanced creatures to hunt. They've already tried to with another species, Xenomorphs--the ones that spit acid. But they wondered if they could try such a thing with humans..."

Your blood ran cold, "Please don't tell me..."

"They realized they could, they hunted for the perfect human, one who possessed certain genes that had a high percentage of handling a Yautja seed. And when one wanted to kill me after hunting all my allies a few years ago, I offered to do anything. Now I've found you."

"So-ugh--then what? They're just gonna let you go?"

"Well, my part of the deal is finished. There's no other use for me."

"Exactly, idiot," you muttered.

Suddenly you heard a loud thumping sound.

"Ah, here they come."

You moan in despair as you try to move, the cold metal biting against your ankles, "This is hopeless."

"Here's the human you left with, she's perfect, she's worthy of you due to her survival."

Yes, you remember.

Suddenly you found yourself helpless, the two...Xenomorphs you supposed, had terrorized your college class during your international trip to the Daintree Rainforest.

The other creature--the...Yautja had killed a few security guards and three of your friends. As you grew to understand this Predator, you realized it only killed something that seemed to be a challenge, everyone that was killed by it had a weapon at some point.

But you, you're a tough one. You survived, and the Yautja gave you weapons to aid it, you managed to kill a Xenomorph on your own.

You had enough education about tribal tradition to know when it smeared some of its excruciatingly burning blood on you, it found you worthy in a sense.

Or he, since as far as you know most creatures bred with the opposite sex.

"I can leave now, right? If you want I can tell you where I can be dropped off," Ester happily spoke up.

You heard a familiar sound slice through the air, his weapon.

"W-wait...what are you doing? I did what you--what you asked...No! No! No-!"

You heard a body thump and a strong smell of blood fill the air, you knew the smell with little effort after the last two days.

There was some shuffling, you guessed she was being dragged away to be dumped by another one of them.

Then the thumping footsteps started up again, getting closer. Until he stood next to your... examination table.

You tried to shift away, not being able to do much but hold yourself up and not fall halfway off the edge. Only for your arms to get tugged and move you back to the more comfortable position.

"Please...I can't--I can't provide you with anything."

You jumped as you felt a nail trail down your jaw before a scaly hand--that was still surprisingly smoother than you expected--gripped your chin, twisting your head left and right.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran down your spine.

A thumb brushed against the acid mark he gave you on your cheek.

The only sound you heard was a sharp grunt, in disapproval or satisfaction, you didn't know.

His thumb dragged across your lips before his hand went lower...

You stiffened when the wandering hand paused, before yelping at the sound of a blade moving through the air.

He slowly sliced through your long-sleeved shirt and bra, your breath hitched as you felt the cold metal graze your skin. If there was any more pressure, he would've sliced you open.

You let out a breathless sigh as the restricting bra released you. You hated bras sometimes.

You could feel him move and tried to shift away, only for him to catch you by your neck and slide you back into the position you were in.

With a quivering lip, you felt curious hands explore your breasts.

"Please, just let me go..."

You bit your lip at an experimental squeeze.

You couldn't seriously be reacting to this? Could you?

But when you felt something brush against your sensitive bud...

Your breathing skipped.

Another pause, before it was tested again.

Your hands tightened into fists.

Then without warning, he relentlessly rolled the hardened bud between his fingers.

With a whine, you tried to move away, only for his grip on your neck to tighten.

You tried to keep as much self-control as you could, but that changed a few minutes later when his hand moved, your stomach jumping as it came and went and stiffening as the hand stopped at the band of your pants.

"Please...don't..." you desperately pleaded.

There are a few seconds of dragging his thumb back and forth against your hip, as if deciding, but ultimately tearing it all off in one motion.

You squealed at suddenly being exposed, trying to clench your thighs together.

He denied you of this, effortlessly opening your thighs to expose for him to fully see.

You decided to be defiant as you felt him shift onto the table.

"This is--isn't going to work. Humans and Aliens aren't going to be able to--do this," you tried to move your legs, the heavy chain helping you none, "I'm not even remotely aroused--"

He interrupted you as you felt him lean closer to your wetness, feeling his breath hit the sensitive area.

The clicking sound he made almost sounded amused, before making you gasp as he rubbed a curious finger against you.

"Mm--stop--you--you can't--!"

Shuddering as a finger slid into you, you attempted to wriggle out of his hold. Only for his grip to tighten a little more, at this point, he was definitely warning you.

You felt embarrassed by the light squelching sound you heard. At least you didn't have to see.

Then two more were added.

"I can't--that's too much!" you cried out.

But when his wrist brushed against your cilt, your body completely surrendered.

He realized how greatly that affected you and decided to continue learning.

With a shaky breath, you desperately tried to hold back. Tried to deny your body's pleasure with your mind.

You clenched your thighs together at an attempt to stop his hand, but all it seemed to do was piss him off and force your legs apart, his originally slow and curious pace becoming rougher.

You bit your lip hard, keeping in any sounds.

But in the end, your body betrayed you, and with a long whine and bucking hips, you released.

He pulled his hand away and for a moment you thought he was done for now.

Until you felt something rubbing against you, something you could tell already wouldn't fit.

"That's not gonna--!"

You whimpered as he effortlessly slid in with a gravelly groan, the stretch stung.

"It's not gunna--It's not gunna...Take it out...."

Your head thumped back onto the table.

Without a break in movement, he kept moving, the chain connecting your ankles lightly clinking.

You let out a little sob as you bit your lip, you didn't know if it was from the violation or the pleasure, possibly both.

Every time he thrust forward, you could feel the stretch.

"It's gunna...gunna..."

He slid his hand up your throat just enough to push down the lip your teeth dug into with an index finger.

He wanted to hear you.

But with defiance, you swallowed every sound you made.

Until the speed changed, the cold metal rubbing against your back from the table, a stark contrast to the heat you felt.

Finally, he started getting little sounds out of you, whimpers, pleads.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you empty, before easily moving the weighted chain that felt like a ton to you and flipping you over on your knees.

You winced as your face smacked into the table. Your arms still bound in front of you.

You groaned into the metal as he completely filled you again.

As he moved, you felt more force behind each thrust.

"I can't--It's too--too much-ah!"

He slammed harder, which made you try to cushion your face.

Your heard a few sharp grunts, yet not of effort, which didn't surprise you. You were probably a warm-up.

Your body gently quivered from the force.

And the chains loudly clinked in time with him.

"I--Mm--hah--Lemme..."

Combing his fingers into your hair, he tugged you back, landing seated in his lap.

He sat motionless for a few seconds, a throaty groan was let out.

You made one last attempt to wriggle away.

And you think that made him completely snap from annoyance.

And you knew this because when he moved again, it was like he'd decided to completely destroy you.

With roughness you never experienced before, a deepness you never felt, a speed you didn't know was possible, he pounded into you at least a few times before your skin even slapped against his again.

And it seemed he was satisfied, every sound you hid before was milked out until you couldn't even process where you were anymore.

All you could feel was him, the pleasure, that stretch, all you could hear was the squelching of your wetness.

Your mouth couldn't even close anymore, completely drunk off him.

Your thighs shook terribly, barely able to handle him.

And you wouldn't even be surprised if he still went easy on you.

You were close.

When he tightened his grip, cutting off your breathing that was it.

Your hips bucked wildly as you released for the second time, a long moan ripping out of you.

Clenching around him so deliciously made him follow after. Filling you to the brim, and dripping down his length.

You sighed, as you began to settle only to whimper when you realized...

He wasn't done yet.

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diorkyeom · 6 months

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THE @diorkyeom / @fairyhaos AO3 FIC REC LIST: PART 2

masterlist. part one. part two. part three.

part two of all the ao3 fics that i've read for seventeen which i've loved, kudosed, and proceeded to download so i'll always have with me. part one was kinda long so i thought it would be better if i just made a 2nd post instead of adding on to it ^^

(list is in order of authors!)

Of Milkshakes, Onesies and Miniature Roses - coupdetart

soonhoon, uni au, oneshot

soonyoung likes small and cute things. jihoon is small and cute. and that's it, that's the entirety of this adorable fic. pls this fic had me grinning so hard omg everything is literally soooo adorable and jihoon is so tsundere but you can already tell that he's so fond of soonyoung and his antics and they're just very very sweet

Know Ya Boo - jeosheo

meanie, non-idols, fluff, getting together, oneshot

jeosheo and lunahui are two of theeeee best meanie writers that ive like. ever seen. this fic made me laugh and it made me internally cry and it's soooo so lovely and funny and domestic and honest to god. the entire attraction of this ship is the way they realise their feelings and this fic does it soo well

Through The Wall - kaiteki

soonhoon, apartment neighbors, chaptered (but short)

hnnnngggh never ever ever EVER gonna get tired of people characterising soonhoon's relationship not as an antagonistic, forever-enemies one but as one of mutual respect and muted adoration. pls a neighbours to lovers thats actually simply Adorable is hard to come by but this is sooo good

right-handed normativity - kyeomizt

meanie, canon au, oneshot

dudeeeee pls it's just sooo soft and domestic and funny and so so so them. the way they act like a couple almost instinctively, like it's coded into their dna to just love each other like that???? peak meanie things actually.

hell yeah, hyung! - orphan_account

jeongcheol, canon au, coming out, oneshot

idk jeongcheol has never been My Thing but the way that jeonghan is characterised? with his clear head and clear thoughts and you can clearly see his entire thought process as he goes through things... wow. it's really good. i also love how much time he takes to think things through and really find out what he's feeling. vv nice fic tbh, that's all :]

Rollercoaster - orphan_account

soonhoon, non-idols au, fake dating, oneshot

read the summary, screamed internally. then began reading the fic and screamed internally even more. pls the characterisation???? the pining???? the suppressed feelings and fAKE DATING?????? absolute gold i swear pls pls read this it's so cute

Found In Translation - naegahosh

verkwan, fluff, light angst, twoshot

holy shiiiiittttttt the seungkwan characterisation is ON POINT and i LOVE when people manage to get his melodrama and also his softness down and this fic has it SO GOOD. the way hansol is just so so so gentle and caring with seungkwan and it's so OBVIOUS that he's already so in love with him from the start :(((

can't sleep (without your smile) - pocketpastel

seoksoo + verkwan, snow white au, sleeping beauty au, chaptered

i love cute little fairytale-twist aus!!!! ive (kinda) written one of my own too hehe and it's always just soooo fun to do. and read as well! i love the seoksoo dynamic and also verkwan with their little one-sided rivals to lovers??? gorgeous. very very sweet.

my love only amounts to this - shiningshua

seoksoo, canon au, soulmates, oneshot

i think i said this before but i rarely read seoksoo bc honestly. their dynamic and characterisation is something that is rlly hard to get right but this is sooo soft. joshua loving it when seokmin calls him "shua hyung"? their softness? the way they were in love with each other the entire time? the epitome of the seoksoo dynamic actually.

Hit Different - thanku4urlove

verkwan, est. relationship, canon au, oneshot

bro. bro buff vernon is soooo brainrot worthy actually and honestly i just feel so blessed that there's an ENTIRE FIC centered around it. with verkwan too like????? best thing in the entire world. started giggling internally at the ending like OH MYGODHFUDHS it's soooo heart-flutteringly good.

wonwoo & his very non-imaginary boyfriend - wonderscape

meanie, established relationship, oneshot

honestly. peak meanie behaviour is wonwoo having a hot-as-fuck boyfriend and no one believing that they're actually dating until they see mingyu in person. the 96 liner dynamic is so silly and so funny to me because they're all just so annoying and goofy in their own way and i love the way it's portrayed in this fic too

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