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storiesfromhalcyontale · 4 months

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How the chess pieces fall

Inevitably, the game is always won either by yourself or your opponent. It’s how we play that sets the stage for the game to be interesting, it’s how the chess pieces fall. You either see yourself win, or you fail and become one of the many pieces that fall. You must use your fellow peers to your advantage to get the best possibility at success, even if it ruins their lives.

Or so I thought.

I sat in the cafeteria eating a pizza and drinking Randor Splash as I glared over at a particular group that were studying for upcoming exams, I didn’t understand. I severed that orphan’s connections with Ronin and yet he’s gotten new friends. The Dreemur child and the scholar, they’ve become friends and in actuality better friends than Ronin ever was. Mainly because he didn’t turn on Sho for power which annoyed me because no matter how hard I tried to reset the status quo and make Shoto alone again it always came off flat. I don’t understand what the Dreemurr child saw in Shoto but it clearly made him more social and clearly more outgoing than the time he and Ronin weren’t friends.

“Eren, you're staring at Sho again.” Aiya mentioned as she tapped my shoulder, I turned to Aiya as I sighed.

“Sorry. I’m just annoyed that Shoto has new friends somehow.” I grumbled, “All that hard work I did to separate him and Ronin was for nothing.” “I say drop it now Eren.” Aiya reassured me, “I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’ve completely demolished their friendship.” This was true, there was no possibility that Shoto and Ronin would ever become friends again. The betrayal that he did was impossible for Shoto to forgive him for. “Still, it’s really annoying.” I stated.

I should probably talk about the figurative elephant in the room, yes I did torment Shoto awhile after he found me and Aiya tormenting a kid. That’s when he decided to give Ronin the ultimatum between me and Aiya or himself. Ronin, for being a good guy, is a coward so he chose power over friendship. And that’s how Shoto became lonely, his friend chose power over his friendship with him. A fatal human flaw I saw first-hand that day, it was funny for me but not for Shoto. “It’s still annoying that he’s able to be happy with his friends.” My grasp on Shoto was loosening, my tactics of control by presenting myself as a perfect student whilst hiding my true personality behind a facade. Mainly because I’m from a rich family and they help fund the school but also it helps develop a fake layer of trust for me to manipulate people, it worked for Ronin at least and I was able to puppet him to make sure he was separated from Shoto.

I looked away from the group of three and turned my attention to Ronin, having just left the lunch queue with just a chocolate cookie and he looked quite annoyed. Maybe because the queue was quite long today.

“That took ages…” Ronin, quite annoyed, took a seat next to Aiya and began eating, “I swear multiple younger years pushed in front of me.” Aiya turned to Ronin.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” She stated kindly. I, however, kept silent, I was disinterested in the conversation. I wasn’t tired or anything, just disinterested. I was planning on how I could separate Shoto from his friends again but nothing was coming to my mind. Unlike Ronin, Asriel is a good kid and Akemi is a scholarly kid. Both compliment Shoto’s personality perfectly.

I could be in a checkmate here.

A loss against the most idiotic boy in this academy in the game he doesn’t even realise he’s playing. There’s no way I was going to lose to him! Yet, this weird loss interests me.

How could someone like him, someone who isn’t as smart as his other friends, beat me? That was something I didn’t understand. Akemi was just as smart as me and Asriel is new on the block yet Shoto was able to become friends with them, and he was doing this by being a genuinely good person. Not even playing the figurative chess game that is life, just living. That’s why I envy Shoto, he’s too nice and he’s not even using it to his advantage. He could be up there with me! And yet… he chooses to be genuine. I turned to look at Ronin who was now looking in the same direction I was a moment ago. I decided not to say anything, as I couldn’t be too bothered to hear him talk about how guilty he was that he abandoned Sho. He could just leave, it wouldn’t make much difference to me. But he’s too attached to the power that being friends with me has. I looked back over at Shoto.

There’s still a game here, a game that I was now losing.

#halcyontale #eren watanabe #Sho Sato #Akemi Ritsuko #Asriel Dreemurr #Ronin Tama #Aiya Rini #Idk where to place this on the timeline yet but I'm guessing it takes place during Arc 2 #my ocs #writeblr #undertale au #undertale #undertale characters

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sansllura · 10 months

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Tatsuma Rini aka my dream woman.

#BNHA #mha #bnha 2nd Gen au #July 2021 #tatsuma rini #trish.doodles

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nymfaia · 1 year

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🥵 for both our current ships.

Send over a 🥵 if your muse finds mine hot / @talesfantastic

*bonks our barbies together*

kiss.

#i need to throw a.lta into character creator to see how she'd look as a human #for our a&a au #she really has a thing for weird older men huh. aknfkgnkgk #t.rent and c.laire are so. vanilla. but in such a wholesome way idk #🌻 🩺 ( the dirt in which our roots may grow ; trent/claire. )#👑🌙 ( your kingdom / your crown ; duke/rini. )#a&a need a tag #i feel like r.ini could get into being a little greedy and handsy. but t.rent and c.laire are just. vanilla ice cream #i dont want to get started with a&a they're both just... gestures

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ofsweetness · 2 years

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EDITS // NINA SALAZAR-ROBERTS

03/?? ( feat. ricky bowen )

#nina ( vis )#took a few years to soak up the tears but look at her now / nina #nina ( edit )#nina x ricky ( ship )#nina #mine*#//some nordan as rini in honor of chelsea clark’s birthday #//the first photo is a selfie colton posted today for her birthday #//but yeah i will never get over the fact that nordan gives off rini vibes and chelsea's my nini fc so it's perfect #//the hsmtmts ginny and georgia au vision is so real ngl. but i'm not at all equipped for all the parallels that i would need to write in #mutuals may reblog

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withleeknow · 4 months

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wishful thinking. (03)

chapter three: puzzle pieces

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; unprotected sex (this is fiction, not real life. don’t do it kids), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, cum eating, praise kink if you squint???, could’ve been edited a bit more but oh well i tried lol word count: 3.2k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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If loving you’s a crime Cuff me up, I’ll do my time for you, girl When I make you mine (when I make you mine) Didn’t come all this way just to waste your time

Over Some Wine - RINI ft. Maeta

It wouldn’t have taken that long to walk to your apartment. And normally, you would welcome the brisk night stroll with friends, basking in the chilly but pleasant air as you wander the empty streets, with nothing but the glow of everlasting youth for warmth every time the wind breezes by.

Though tonight you had opted to hail a taxi back to yours after leaving the club. You’re not an impatient person and neither is Minho, but whenever you’re around him, waiting always seems to be the hardest thing to do.

The entire time you were in the car, his hand was on your leg, the touch seemingly innocent at first, until his fingers started trailing higher and higher, until his hand was gripping your inner thigh. His knuckles brushed against your core at one point, and you had to summon every last bit of control not to jump his bones right then and there.

Once you're finally within the comfort of your own home, Minho's got you hoisted up with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips instantly chasing yours while his hands settle on your ass, squeezing you as he carries you to your bedroom. He knows the layout of your apartment well enough that he doesn't have to break away from the kiss for more than a second to navigate the place and reach his desired destination.

It's only when he has lowered you on the bed that he stops kissing you, latching onto your neck while his clothed erection grinds against you. You choke on a breath as Minho sucks on a sweet spot, his favorite place to mark you. You love it, even though you always end up complaining to him that you have to cover it up when you go outside.

His hands knead you roughly, one still on your ass, the other having moved to your chest. You tug on his shirt, desperate and impatient, and he complies almost immediately. He finishes his work on your neck with a particular hard suck, his tongue soothing the skin before he pulls away from you just far enough to get rid of the shirt.

Minho dives in to kiss you again but you put a hand on his chest, pushing him back slightly before your lips could meet. “Take off your pants,” you demand restlessly.

“What?” he simpers, though his hands are already reaching to undo his belt. “You don’t wanna kiss some more?”

“You can kiss me while you fuck me.”

It’s easy to tell that your words affect him, judging from the way his eyes glaze over with lust and the retort that he swallows back down. While he kicks off his jeans and boxers, you work on stripping yourself bare for him. You’re both naked in record time, and then he’s gravitating toward you once again.

It’s routine at this point; Minho likes to make you come at least once or twice before he fucks you. He’s about to descend your body before you’re stopping him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Not gonna let me have a taste?” he pouts.

“Later,” you tell him. “I just need you now.”

He bites his lip like he’s contemplating it, then slots his body between your open legs, his bare cock positioned on your inner thigh. “You sure? Don’t want me to prep you first?” he asks.

“No.” Your hands slide up his neck, pulling him closer until he’s resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t wait. Want you so bad...”

You’re practically whimpering, positively dripping with need as you tell him this. It makes Minho lose his mind a little bit, makes his breath hitch. He kisses you again as his fingers slip through your folds, pleased to find that you’re already beyond wet.

The sounds that you make, muffled by his lips, go straight to his cock; the length throbs, hardens impossibly more.

He dips his fingers into your entrance regardless, burying them to the hilt, scissoring you open. You buck against his hand instantly, your pliant cunt soaking his digits as you whine - or try to, anyway. It’s good, the way he’s fucking his fingers into you, but you need more.

“Min, just fuck me...” You break the kiss to look at him with darkened eyes, full of desire. “Please.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Then he’s pulling out, making a quick show of sucking his fingers clean, humming contentedly at your taste. The sudden emptiness that he leaves you with almost hurts, but it dissipates when he aligns himself with you, rubbing his tip against your clit a few times before he’s finally pushing in.

There’s a stretch but it’s not unpleasant. It’s delicious, how he fills you up so perfectly like he was made just for you.

That thought crosses your mind again.

My puzzle piece. My perfect fit.

You let out a drawn moan as Minho bottoms out. You can’t think straight, not when he’s this close to you, not when you can feel all of him. Not when it’s practically suffocating you, just how intimate the moment is.

You know it’s not exactly what you signed up for, or at least you still try to remind yourself that. And yet...

You two don’t use condoms anymore; you haven’t in a while. It’s a little reckless and stupid, you know that. Maybe if someone else had come to you and told you that they were forgoing protection with their close-friend-turned-friend-with-benefits, you would scold the shit out of them. But this is your situation, and people don’t tend to be very wise when it comes to their own dilemmas, do they?

Minho always pulls out, and you never forget to take your birth control. Of course, there’s always some concern, but it isn’t really on the forefront of your mind right now. There hasn’t been any scares so far.

“Okay?” he asks, brushing his lips against your cheek as he holds your waist.

You nod fervently. “More than okay. Please move.”

He chuckles at your impatience, giving your sides a tender squeeze before rearing his hips back. The drag of his cock along your walls makes you sigh, and when he plunges back into you, you almost shudder from how fucking good it feels.

“Minho...” His name falls from your lips hoarsely, brokenly. The pace he sets is fast, makes you see stars from the get-go. He would’ve preferred to play with you a bit more to ease the stretch for you, but he knows you wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t think you could handle it.

You pull him closer with your arms around his neck until your chest is pressed tightly against his. He kisses you again, slowly, sweetly, while he thrusts into you hard and fast.

You know he likes it when you’re loud for him, because of him. He’s told you that much himself. But more often than not, Minho would kiss you a lot during sex, swallowing the moans trying to escape from you.

Maybe he’s just looking out for your poor neighbors.

Or maybe he just likes kissing you that much.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips, breaking away momentarily to let you breathe. His cock nudges your g-spot on every stroke and it feels like heaven. “You’re doing so good, baby. Always take me so well.”

You don’t know if it’s the pet name that makes your heart skip a beat or if it’s just the praise in general, but either way, it fills you with an indescribable warmth.

You clench around him, your thighs instinctively hugging his waist tighter and that’s how he knows you’re almost there. “Gonna come for me?” he asks, his hips never easing up on their brutal pace because goddamn Lee Minho and his fucking stamina. One of his hands sneaks down to meet your clit, drumming it like he’s playing the freaking guitar and it makes you want to scream.

“So close,” you cry out. He’s brought you to that edge already, and all you have to do now is... fall. “Min, I’m...”

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

And so you do. You fall. You let yourself tip over the edge and into the sea of pleasure that awaits you. It’s stars exploding behind your eyelids, wonderfully devastating. It’s rapturous euphoria, the way Minho holds you through it all, how he peppers kisses along your jawline, how he never ceases his movements, making your high last as long as possible.

He holds out until he’s seen your orgasm through. When your bliss subsides, his hips stutter, turning more erratic.

“I’m close,” he rasps out.

You hold his face and mimic his actions just a couple minutes ago, kissing his cheek, the bridge of his nose and the cute mole on the side, then finally his lips. “Where do you want it?”

“Your mouth,” he asks gently. “Please.”

When Minho pulls out, you move toward him, settling on your hands and knees until your face is level with his bare cock. He lets out a breathless moan as you take him into your awaiting mouth, humming contentedly when you taste yourself on him. He has both hands on you, one tangled in your hair, the other stroking your cheek affectionately, all the while his hips thrust into your mouth slowly until he hits the back of your throat, only to pull back and do it again repeatedly.

You peer up at him through your lashes, and Minho just thinks you’re so fucking pretty like this, looking at him with innocent eyes, yet you’re doing downright obscene things with him, letting him do the filthiest things to you.

You place your hand on top of his own, the one that’s on your face, caressing your cheekbone. “Baby,” he whimpers brokenly as you hollow out your cheeks to try and suck him off better. His heavy length throbs on your tongue, pulsating with the need to come. He’s aware that he sounds beyond needy and desperate, but you’re just so warm and wet and a fucking goddess that it makes him short-circuit, wiping his mind clean until all he knows is you.

Nothing else, no one else but you.

It takes him only a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s calling out your name in a drawn-out moan, spilling his hot cum down your throat, coating your tastebuds with him. You bop your head along his length for a minute longer, until you’re certain that he has nothing left to give you. When you’re done, your tongue wanders from the base to the tip, lightly sucking and licking the head like a kitten, before you open your mouth to show him that you’ve been a good girl.

Minho is dazed as he stares at you, his lips parted as he tries to even out his breathing. You smile triumphantly as you watch him try to get his bearings, but after a moment, he’s still quiet. You’re about to poke his side to get him to come down from the clouds, but he’s suddenly pulling you up by your arms and kissing you hard. You let out a surprised gasp, muffled against his mouth, before you relax against him, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

He moans when he tastes himself on your tongue, and the vibration caused by the sound makes you press your thighs together.

One of his hands gropes your bare ass before his fingers find your core again, rubbing your slit, gathering the moisture there.

“Did sucking me off make you wet again?” Minho pulls back slightly to ask, a smirk evident on his lips. You don’t say anything; you just look at him with bashful eyes. “Want me to make you come again?”

At this, you nudge his nose with yours. “Will you?” you ask coyly. “Just a quick one.”

He kisses you once more before he gently pushes you backward, motioning for you to lie on the bed as he settles with his head between your legs.

He sucks a faint mark into one of your inner thighs. “Anything for you,” he says.

His lips latch onto your awaiting clit, sucking it into his mouth gently and instantly making you sigh in pure bliss. Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging on it when two of his fingers dip into your entrance without warning. The digits enter you easily, aided by your excess wetness, fucking you fast, determined to make you come again.

You feel like you’re floating.

There’s something about today. Some lines, blurred.

It doesn’t take long before you find yourself nearing the edge again. You’re still a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm after all. “Ah, shit… There…” you keen out, your greedy hands trying to push him further against your cunt, which he happily obliges.

When you come in his mouth, your thighs shaking around his head, Minho laps it all up, taking his sweet time to lick you clean. You feel him moan against your core, and it isn’t until you start wincing from the overstimulation that he releases you.

A smug grin blooms on his lips as he crawls up the bed, lying down next to you. You take a couple of minutes to catch your breath, thoroughly enjoying the warmth that settles deep in your belly and the satisfying sensation between your legs. You cover your body with the duvet before you roll onto your side to face him.

Pillow talk isn’t your forte.

You just watch him as he watches you carefully, neither of you saying anything as the electricity in the air settles. You wait to see if he would speak, but after a moment, your eyelids start getting heavy. Exhaustion catches up with your body quicky.

“Tired?” Minho asks.

“Mhmm.”

He waits for another beat, reaches a hand out to stroke your hair softly before he gets up and goes to the bathroom. The aftercare is routine, and you cannot express how much you appreciate him for it. He returns with a damp cloth, then peels the duvet from your bottom half to clean you up. He does all of it quietly, and the silence makes you even drowsier.

When Minho is done, he pats your leg and covers you up again. He goes back to observing you and your sleepy face for another minute. You keep your eyes open as you try to maintain eye contact but it’s hard; you feel like you could pass out any second now.

Nevertheless, even in your exhausted state, you still sense the light somberness that befalls the confines of your walls. Usually, this is the part where he leaves, and you can tell that he doesn’t like the realization that he has to go now.

You see it in his face and it makes you a little sad because you know he wants to stay.

Then, it strikes you that you don’t really want him to leave either. At least not tonight.

“It’s late. You can stay the night,” you say quietly, “if you want.”

The same excuse that you used to kick him out the last time, now you’re using to get him to stay.

Minho seems surprised. “Are you okay with that?”

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Oh.”

You catch the tip of his ears turning red. It’s endearing, for some reason.

He puts on his boxers from where they were abandoned on the floor earlier, but opts to remain shirtless. His movements are a bit graceless, like he doesn’t really know what to do with himself.

This is a first for the both of you. The first time he’s ever stayed over.

“Do you want me to grab you a shirt?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Yes, please.”

Minho wanders over to your wardrobe and rummages through your t-shirt drawer. He picks one out from the bunch, holding it up for you to see. It takes a few seconds for your brain to catch up with you, but when it does, you realize that it’s not your shirt at all. It’s Minho’s, one that he left here some time ago and you were just never reminded to give it back.

“Oh,” you say. “You can wear it if you want. It’s yours anyway.”

“I think I’d rather see you wear it.”

You don’t argue because you’re tired and it’s just a shirt. You throw it on when he hands it to you along with a clean pair of underwear.

“What?” you ask when he just hovers over your bed and stares at you.

His gaze flickers from your eyes to the shirt covering your body, his lips curling upward before he tells you, “Nothing.”

After turning off the lights, Minho climbs into bed with you. You’re lying on your back and you suspect that he’s in a similar position, though you don’t turn to look at him to make sure. It’s awkward, and you don’t really know what to do about it.

A couple minutes later, he brushes his fingers against yours. “Can I?”

You don’t know what he’s asking, but you agree nonetheless. “Okay.”

There’s some shuffling from his direction, like he’s rolled over onto one side to face you in the dark. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer, until your back is flushed against his bare chest. The godforsaken thing that you call a heart starts beating wildly for a reason unbeknownst to you. It’s difficult to breathe properly when he’s holding you like this.

Like you’ve never been held before.

You think Minho feels the stiffness of your body in his arms because he starts rubbing odd patterns on your skin, up and down your sides, trying to soothe you.

It helps a bit, but then again it’s probably the sleepiness seeping in more and more too.

“Hey,” you start. “About what Hyunjin said at the party tonight.”

Minho pauses the movements of his fingers a second. “What did he say?”

“The thing he said about the girl…”

He laughs his cute laugh then, his chest vibrating with the sound. “You know the girl is you, right?”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“It’s cute.”

“It’s not.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, patting your stomach with affection. “What about what Hyunjin said?”

You take a breath. “I don’t know. What if everyone finds out?”

“They won’t,” Minho reassures you. “They’re not the brightest bunch.”

“Be serious.”

“I am serious,” he protests, then his voice gets smaller, full of hesitation as he asks, “Even if they do find out, would it really be that bad?”

“It wouldn’t be the end of the world,” you tell him, “but I don’t know, it’s…”

Then you trail off, not really knowing what to say. It’s what? Embarrassing? Scary? What?

“Come on.” Minho presses a kiss into your hair after a moment of dead silence. Maybe he thinks that you’ve fallen asleep, or maybe he’s trying to keep you from overthinking everything. The gentle kiss would’ve made you weak in the knees if you aren’t already lying down. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it later.”

Your mind takes you back to what he said just now. You can’t help but think how that sentence would sound better if only he’d switched out one word for another.

My girl…

You know my girl is you, right?

It makes your heart skip a beat, then you’re snuggling further into the warmth of his embrace, where he welcomes you with no reservation.

You drift off to the sound of his breathing, dreaming about you and him.

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rinisbowen · 2 years

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dropping a new rini AU even though i always feel weird doing self promo on here

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts fic #hsmtmts fanfic #rini #rini au #ricky x nini #nini x ricky #ricky and nini #nini and ricky #ao3 #//yes this is also on wattpad but- i prefer ao3 lol #//so that's what i'm linking #**#folded #rini fanfic

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fadedncity · 2 years

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wc: 2.5k

pairing: hades!johnny x persephone!reader

cw: smut, greek gods!au, husband!johnny, fem!reader, pet names, teasing, use of titles (king, queen, your majesty), oral sex (receiving), fingering, body worship, finger sucking, riding, mating press, lil bit of praising, creampie, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, lowkey dumbification

song rec: won’t by tanerélle | aphrodite by rini | in a week by hozier | 7th heaven by quin

"Where is she?"

"Where she always is."

Johnny's long legs carried him in long strides through the palace, bursting through the doors at the end of the corridor.

The moment he stepped outside, he could already feel your warmth radiating through the entire garden, looking much more lively than in the past six months.

Johnny found himself out here more often than not with the wilting flowers and dying trees, longing for your return just as he had. Now, life was coursing through the entire garden, the tall standing trees rustling in the breeze, flowers blossoming all around his feet. He could feel your presence growing stronger the further he walked.

When he finally spotted you, you had your back to him. And Johnny could already feel his heart hammering against his chest.

Just laying eyes on you, it seemed his lungs were finally able to intake the oxygen around him a little easier.

Without even looking away from the plants you were bringing back to life, you spoke,

"What did I tell you about those boots in my garden, John?"

Johnny looked down at his feet and then at the trail of scorched earth behind him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He kicked off his shoes and continued toward you.

You finally turned around, and Johnny felt like it was the first time again. You stood from the dirt, your long dress flowing around you and slightly waving in the wind.

Johnny's arms were immediately around you, pulling you to him.

Your heart had ached for this man for half the year, and it almost felt like your chest would explode, finally being in his arms again.

You ran your hands up his arms to his shoulders, one of them cupping his face.

"Hi." Johnny's heart melts at the way your eyes sparkle at him.

Johnny sighs, nuzzling his face into your touch, "Hi."

"Six months have felt like an eternity away from you, my love."

"I know. It's been hell here without you."

You laughed, "That joke doesn't get any better, babe."

"It made you laugh, though," Johnny grinned.

"Because it was terrible. Leave them to Mark," you patted his chest.

"Fine."

. . .

Anything he needed to do today was quickly pushed back to tomorrow at least, Johnny not wanting anything other than to be with you right now.

Your feet mindlessly swayed in the air as you lay on your stomach face to face with your lover. You rest your chin on Johnny's chest, studying the details of his face as if they would have changed much in the past few thousand years you've been married.

"Have you been sleeping? You look tired," you frown, noticing the dark circles around his eyes.

"I'm fine," he told you. The look in your eyes was enough for him to know you don't believe him. "I've just been working a lot, that's it. And it's kinda hard to sleep when you're not here."

You sat up on your knees before swinging one of your legs over his waist to straddle him.

"I'm sorry about that, baby," you pout, caressing his face.

"You should be," Johnny teased, pecking your lips, "But now you can make it up to me," he whispered.

"Anything for you, my King," you teasingly whispered back.

Johnny's hands on your waist moved down to cup your ass. You slide one of your hands over the silky material of his shirt, grab the back of his neck, and deepen the kiss.

Johnny's hands fell to your thighs, slowly pushing the skirt of your dress up. A shiver ran down your spine, your stomach coiling from excitement. Johnny slipped his tongue into your mouth when you dragged your hips against his, trying to relieve built-up pressure between your thighs.

Your back met the mattress, your head lying against the pillows as Johnny's body occupied the space between your legs.

His hands wandered all over your body, cupping your breast, squeezing your thigh; it was all too much but not enough.

Johnny's lips traveled down to your neck, softly kissing you there. He bunched up the fabric of your dress in his hands, pushing it up to your hips. He bit and sucked your skin, making his way down your body.

"So, so beautiful," he mutters between kisses down your stomach.

Johnny touches you like he doesn't have every inch of your body memorized already; as if it were his first time with you.

He pushes your knees apart, settling between your legs. He slowly kisses his way up your inner thighs, digging his nails into your skin when he hears the faintest whimper or whines fall from your lips.

With a subtle wave of his fingers, your panties are discarded to ashes. Any other time you would've chastised his use of his powers, but you couldn't care in the slightest.

Johnny's predatory gaze falls to your pussy, only a few inches away from his face.

"You gonna let me taste you, sweetness?"

You eagerly nodded, "Please, Johnny," you said so faintly it was almost a whisper.

Johnny smirked, lowering his head and flattening his tongue against your lips. You moaned, rolling your hips into his mouth. He teasingly circled your slit with the tip of his tongue before bringing his attention to your clit. You lifted your hips off the bed, raising them against his face before Johnny held your hips, keeping them pinned to the bed.

"Patience, baby. 186 days, I've waited for this. To have you again," he placed both your legs over his shoulders, giving your thighs more kisses, "So, I will take my time if I please."

He ran his tongue through your folds, your juices reminding him of sweet nectar on his tastebuds. Your eyes rolled back, bliss written all over your face as you lost yourself in the pleasure he was giving you. Johnny wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves, resulting in your back arching away from the bed.

You brought one of your hands to his head, fingernails lightly scratching his scalp.

"Gods, John, please don't stop."

Johnny moans into your pussy in response. Your legs threaten to close around his head, but he doesn't give them a chance to, hooking his arms under your thighs and keeping them apart to allow him to continue to eat you out like a starved man.

The one thing Johnny wishes he could do for the rest of his immortal life, it's to give you pleasure. The sounds you make, the look on your face, the way your body trembles, all of it; Johnny wishes to be the source of it all for the rest of time.

"Johnny—fuck. Always make me feel so good," you whine.

"You wanna cum for me, baby?"

"Yes, m'so close," you mumble, nodding.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge before finally falling over. A loud cry of Johnny's name bounced off the walls, surely heard by the palace staff everywhere.

Even after already cumming, you couldn't help the thoughts running rampant in your head, feeling your skin burn under his touch as he lapped at your folds. It aroused you, even more, having him use his strength against you, knowing he can't hurt you even if he tried.

He left you with one last kiss on your knee before he sat up. You lazily watched your husband begin to undress. He noticed your eyes on him and teasingly undid the buttons of his black silk shirt slowly. You sat up, the fatigue from your first orgasm no longer existent. A smirk was planted on your face as your eyes drank in the man before you.

Johnny could see from his spot at the foot of the bed the lust swirling around your irises and practically smell your arousal seeping onto the bed sheets.

Getting impatient, you slide off the bed and stand in front of Johnny, hooking a finger in the belt loop of his pants, tugging him closer. Your lips meet in a messy, desperate kiss, your teeth and tongue clashing.

You slide his shirt off his shoulders before running your hands down his chest, letting yourself get refamiliarized with his body, having missed feeling his skin against yours these past two seasons. Without breaking the kiss, your fingers blindly undo his pants until they end up on the floor along with his shirt.

Johnny's hand snaked around your back, pulling you flush against him, untying the laces until the front of your dress fell. He kisses your shoulders as he slips the material off your body, leaving you naked before him.

Johnny wastes no time touching and kissing your body, worshipping you as the goddess you are.

You push him back onto the bed, Johnny's eyes practically turning black as you get on top of him. You sink your teeth into your bottom lips, feeling his cock between your folds. You couldn't resist the urge to drag your hips against his once again.

"I need you so bad," you whimper, your slick dripping onto his cock.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Please, Johnny."

"Whatever my Queen wants, she gets," he tells you before lifting you out of his lap and lining his cock up with your entrance.

Lowering yourself onto Johnny's cock, you're refamiliarized with the feeling of him splitting you apart in the best ways.

"You feel so fucking good," you utter.

"Gods, you're so wet, sweetheart," Johnny groans, fingernails digging into your skin.

You grin, lifting your hips before sinking back down onto his cock.

"It's all for you, baby," you slowly start to ride him, unable to resist how good it feels to be so full.

Johnny can't tear his eyes away from your face. Loving the way you lose yourself in ecstasy.

He lifts his hips to meet yours, and your eyes roll back into your skull. Too focused on how good it feels, you wrap your arm around his shoulder to balance yourself as you bounce in his lap.

Johnny's hands were all over you while his mouth traveled over your chest, biting, kissing, and licking your skin.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, bringing his lips back to yours. When you broke the kiss, Johnny's thumb softly edged your bottom lip, silently asking for entry.

You enthusiastically suck on his thumb, coating the digit in your saliva before he slips his hand between your bodies and starts rubbing your clit.

"Johnny," you gasp, "Fuck, I can't. John, I'm gonna-" Johnny slamming up into you, cut off your words.

The room seemed to grow warmer, the fires lit around the room burning brighter.

"Come on, baby. I know you wanna cum," Johnny rubbed coordinated circles on your clit with his thumb, "Be a good girl and cum for me," the vibrations of his voice shot straight to your core.

Your cries and moans were music to his ears, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin. The knot inside you snapped, and Johnny felt your pussy choking his cock, sucking him deeper into your warm wet heat.

"Fucking hell," Johnny clenches his jaw.

You bury your face into Johnny's neck, allowing yourself to catch your breath.

You lift your head from his neck and rest your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whisper against his skin, kissing his face.

"I love you," he groans as you start rolling your hips again.

"Please, fuck me, John," you begged, "Remind me who I belong to."

Johnny threw you onto your back and pushed his cock back into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, unable to get enough of him.

"It would be my pleasure, your majesty," he leaned down and met your lips in a kiss, slowly drawing his hips back before easing back in.

You feel every inch of him, stretching you open, fucking you nice and deep.

"More, more, more, Johnny, please!" you lift your hips to meet his.

Your husband grabbed your legs, placing them over his shoulders, folding you in half as he plowed into you.

The tip of his cock reached so deep inside, you could feel him in your stomach, rightfully rearranging your guts.

You found yourself gripping onto the sheets, pillows—anything you could get a hold of, all the pent-up longing you've held onto all this time being released after finally being reunited with your love.

You felt yourself losing more and more control as you drowned in pleasure. Vines wrapped themselves around the headboard, flowers miraculously blossoming across the room.

Johnny's chest blooms with pride, knowing he's the only one with the ability to make you feel good enough you lose control of your powers like this. Your whimpers and whines were as sweet as a prayer on his ears. It makes him slam into you harder, faster.

If you were mortal, your muscles would've screamed in relief when he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept your knees close to your chest. His thrusts never falter, continuing to pound into you.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, feeling even tighter than before. The way he messily snaps his hips into yours, pistoning his cock in and out of your sopping hole, you knew that knot inside of him would break sooner rather than later.

Johnny watches your pussy and swallows his cock, taking him so well.

"Gods, I've missed you," he muffles your moans with his lips on yours, "And this pussy. You were fucking meant for me," he growls, his cock twitching against your gummy walls.

"Johnny," you whine.

"What is it, my love?" he slows down but continues his deep strokes.

"Please, baby, I wanna feel you," you plead.

"Cum with me," he tells you before bringing his thumb back to your clit, sloppily circling the bundle of nerves.

Your toes curled, and your fingernails dragged across Johnny's skin, hard enough to leave red streaks on his arms.

You could barely keep your eyes open, slowly blinking up at the man above you as your body approached another climax.

"That's my girl," he hums, "Cum for your King," his eyes glimmer red.

His last words toppled you over the edge, euphoria flooding your entire body. Your orgasm sent Johnny into his own, warm ropes of his cum spilling into your messy cunt.

You whimper against Johnny's lips, feeling empty as he pulls out of you. He lays beside you, grabbing one of your legs and placing it over himself to keep you close. Neither of you caring about the mess of bodily fluids and flower petals all over the bed.

"Fuck, I've missed you," you crash your lips into his.

You pull yourself up into Johnny's lap, his hands holding your waist. You grab onto his hair, making him crane his neck up at you as you slip your tongue into his mouth, your lover sucking on the wet muscles.

You both pull away, catching your breath but staying close enough you're sharing the same oxygen.

"You really aren't trying to waste any time, huh," he asked, nudging your nose with his.

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around him.

"186 days. I've wasted enough."

a/n: I know it's been a minute but seriously life has been fucking crazy and exhausting so, sorry about that. but thank you for reading and feedback is appreciated <33

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portwellbabes · 3 months

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Weekly chapter update!!! See if you can catch the Summer I Turned Pretty references as well as a teeny tiny bit of Harry Potter 🫣🤫

Also please leave comments you guys!! I would really appreciate feedback🫶🏽

#ej caswell #gina porter #hsmtmts #portwell #joshua bassett #matt cornett #rini #caswen #east high school #nini salazar roberts #sofia wylie #ao3 #ao3 author #portwell au #ej and gina #ashlyn caswell #au

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jishyucks · 7 months

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When the Stars Align — njm

‣ pairing: guard!Jaemin x princess!reader

‣ genre: fluff, royal!au, friends-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: ❝The stars may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes❞; In which Jaemin believes that his wish on the stars is absurd

‣ warnings?: nothing basically, long paragraphs near the end

‣ an: the two songs goodbye. I wasn’t going to add songs but I’ll just keep them there,, anywaysss I wrote this really quick bc I wanted to post something so it might not be my best,, but I honestly still think it’s cute (●'◡'●) also pls ignore the whack title pic for this I might change it later,,, pls enjoy!

‣ tags: @mosviqu @flowerjun

[Songs] A Starry Night in Apollo Bay — RINI | I See the Light — Tangled

Every night that Jaemin was on duty, he always made a single wish upon both the stars that continued to twinkle and those that had long faded away.

His wish wasn’t special, nor was it ordinary—he simply wished for there to be a shift in the stars, one that only he could recognize.

It started out as a joke he made to himself, a way to alleviate the monotony of gazing at the same sky night after night. Sure, the sky was undeniably beautiful, but when he initially made the wish, he was hoping he’d see something different, like a planet with more prominence, maybe a shooting star, or perhaps even a supermoon.

However, everything changed when he met you by chance one evening. His wish took on a different significance—that maybe the stars would align themselves in such a way that your feelings would mirror his own.

If that was even possible, Jaemin scoffed at his own thought. He was nothing but a guard. A junior guard at that. Why would someone like you, the princess, consider him in that way when you had your pick of suitors at your beck and call?

The corners of Jaemin’s mouth turn downward at the thought. It wasn’t the hardest thought to swallow, but it still hurt nonetheless. These were his own emotions, ones that he shouldn’t have even developed in the first place. Yet here he was, wallowing in the fact that you might only see him as a friend.

As he let his head fall back, Jaemin gazed up at the night sky he had practically befriended. The constellations were like old friends, ones he knew almost as well as he knew himself.

It was peaceful outside of the castle. In fact, it was so peaceful that he almost forgot that there were people inside of the building celebrating the Queen’s birthday. If he listened carefully, he could hear the music being played. But other than that, it truly doesn’t seem like a party was happening at all.

With his eyes closed, Jaemin readied himself to make the same wish he had been making for the past year, clearing his mind until only the wish and thoughts of you occupied it.

I wish that—

“Are you sleeping standing up?”

Jaemin’s wish is interrupted by the sound of your voice. He turns to find you, standing in the dress you personally chose for the occasion. He remembers you going on about it a few weeks ago, stuck choosing between dark and pastels.

The word beautiful was the first thing that entered Jaemin’s mind. You looked beautiful. So beautiful that you made Jaemin’s breath hitch at the back of his throat. But he quickly rids that thought.

“Y/N,” he counters, “What are you doing out here?”

Jaemin hopes you don’t hear the way his heart is pounding against his rib cage. And if you do, he hopes you mistake it for the music playing inside.

“I wanted to get some air,” you shrug nonchalantly, “And I wanted to see you.” You find a nice clean spot on the steps leading down and onto the long driveway before sitting down. You turn to Jaemin expectantly, but when he doesn’t quite get your signal, you gesture for him to join you, “Come sit.”

“I can’t,” Jaemin frowns, “I’m on duty.”

You mirror his expression, but you add furrowed brows, “This is an order.”

Jaemin huffs. Despite it being his job to serve your family, he hates it when you use your position to coax him into situations like this. He hesitantly makes his way over to you. Sitting down just a few inches away from you. He's unsure of how to position himself, his body sitting up stiff and straight beside yours.

Turning to look at Jaemin and seeing the way he’s quite literally sitting like he has a stick shoved up his ass, you can’t help but laugh. Shuffling over, you elbow him on the side, “Hey, relax a little bit.”

He lets out another deep sigh, but he nods and allows himself to drop his shoulders. Jaemin honestly had no idea why he was being so self-conscious right now. He wasn’t usually like this. But maybe it was because you basically caught him making a wish that was about you.

Jaemin tries to shake the nerves out of his system. “It’s the Queen’s birthday, you should be inside.”

Your face contorts into an unreadable expression. You shake your head and groan, “As much as I love my mom, I hate being surrounded by all those people.”

“Those people?” Jaemin prompts.

“The wealthy, the royals, the people who hold titles they don’t deserve,” you list under your breath. Jaemin hums, “Aren’t you royalty?”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, but I’m not insane like a majority of them, and you of all people should know that.” You straighten your legs so that they’re stretched out in front of you. Jaemin does the same.

“Fair point.” Jaemin completely understands. From the conversations he’s overheard, the Queen strongly dislikes half the people she even invited, but had no choice due to their title, “But you really would rather be out here than in there?”

Jaemin knows damn well that you’re an extrovert and somebody who actually likes big celebrations like the one happening today.

You nod, “You’re out here so… yes.”

Jaemin tries to pay no mind to what you just said because he knows there’s absolutely no way that there’s any other meaning to it. Obviously you’d be bored without him… you two were each other’s best friend. Jaemin can only imagine having to attend a big party without a friend.

“What?” A stupid response, but Jaemin genuinely did not know how to respond to that. He looks over at you in anticipation of a response. He can see your eyes moving back and forth, trying to dig out a reply that would make sense.

“I would… honestly want to be wherever you are, Jaemin-ie.” You reach over to poke his shoulder, “I can really be myself with you.” You try to make it sound not as serious as it actually was. This was basically a platonic confession, something that you’ve never told him before.

Jaemin’s still in denial that you actually prefer being with him. He doesn’t see himself as anything special, so why do you seem to genuinely like his company?

“But… you belong inside with all those people,” Jaemin starts, “Not because you’re similar to them, because like you said a lot of them are snobs… but… you’re a princess, Y/N. You’re next in line to rule this place! And… ”

You know where he’s trying to get at despite his lack of words. “Who’s to say where I belong besides me… I like it out here!” you declare confidently. Then you pause and tap your heels against the pavement beneath your feet, “What if I belong out here, and with you?”

The question hangs in the air and Jaemin can’t quite piece together what you’re implying. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, “Y-you’re just saying nonsense at this point… Are you drunk?” Jaemin leans over to look you in the eye as if this would confirm his suspicions.

You laugh, pushing him away, and confess, “I’m a little tipsy. But! But I’m sober enough to know what I’m saying.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.”

And your eyes do the opposite, widening until your eyeballs are bulging out of their sockets, “I am!” You gently hit his shoulder, “I’m sober! I barely drank. Did I seem drunk when I came out?”

Pressing his lips into a taut line, Jaemin thinks of a way to prove that what you were saying was because you were intoxicated. He can’t process your last question—and with you?—what was that supposed to mean?

“Walk in a straight line for me right now.”

Knowing that Jaemin’s not going to stop until you prove that you’re sober, you groan and stand up, making your way to the edge of a stair. You prepare yourself, lining your feet one in front of the other and hiking up the skirt of your dress to make them visible to Jaemin. With ease, you walk in the straightest line you’ve ever walked, “See? I’m sober.”

Jaemin has no other choice but to believe you, “But what about—”

“Are you not listening to me?” you huff, cutting Jaemin off before he can complete his sentence. You can already anticipate what he's about to say. “I can’t stand any of them!” You make your way back to Jaemin and settle down in your previous spot. He observes your actions, waiting for you to provide more context before he can respond.

“You know… that feeling when you’ve been underwater for too long? The pressure building up in your head?”

Jaemin nods, “Yes.”

“Well…” you continue, “Being with you is like… finally being able to float back up to the surface to breathe.” Then you add, “I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive without you, Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s heart is knocking against his ribcage. Are you saying…

“Would it be ridiculous if I said I have feelings for you?”

Jaemin’s afraid to turn and look at you. He can feel your heavy gaze resting comfortably on his cheekbone. Your eyes trace his side profile, and he can sense the tension building in the silence as you wait for his response to your impulsive confession. Your palms grow sweaty while you wait for his answer to your impulsive confession.

“Me?” Another stupid response.

“You.”

Jaemin shakes his head, clearly in disbelief. “But—”

"Jaemin," you stop him, frustration creeping into your tone, "Are you going to keep questioning my feelings instead of giving me a real reply?" Your impatience is evident, and you're looking for a genuine response from him.

Jaemin picks at his cuticles and lets himself word his reply properly. You give him time, but the more time Jaemin spends on formulating an answer, the greater your anxiety grows. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship with Jaemin. What if your impulsiveness did just that?

After what felt like forever, Jaemin finally speaks up, “On nights like these, I talk to the moon about you to pass time…” Jaemin keeps his eyes trained at his feet, his voice filled with vulnerability. “And to the stars… I’ve been… wishing on every single one of them… that maybe you’d like me back simply because it seemed so impossible.” He swallows hard before finally turning to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Do you know why I thought that?"

You shake your head.

"Y/N, you can have anyone, and I'm not even exaggerating!" He exclaims, "The number of suitors I've seen prance into the castle, all hoping to win your hand in marriage or even just one date down in the city? It's countless… And imagine my thoughts when you rejected all of them. I believed I had no chance with you because you rejected all these men that seemed to suit you perfectly…”

His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. Jaemin continues, “When I started developing these feelings for you, I told myself to never get my hopes up because I’m just one junior guard and you’re a princess…” Jaemin sucks air through pursed lips and lets his head fall forward.

“That’s why I keep questioning your feelings, Y/N,” He concludes, “I know I shouldn’t even be doing so because you’re your own person, but it’s so hard for me to believe this is real. That your feelings are real…” With one final look at you, Jaemin finally gives you his response, “So to answer your question—yes, it’s ridiculous, but it’s ridiculous to me and not in the way you think it is.”

You nod, his answer bittersweet, “It’s like the stars you’ve been wishing on.”

Jaemin’s ears perk up, “Hmm?”

“They may seem unreachable, but they have a way of surprising us sometimes,” you snort. You let your head fall back to gaze up at the stars, the brighter ones catching your attention. "Jaemin," you continue, your voice filled with sincerity, "I really do like you. I want you to know that."

Jaemin's heart races at your words, his entire body warming with reassurance and anticipation. Acting on impulse, he gently reaches over to hold your hand. It’s not the first time he’s held your hand, but this time feels different. “I… really like you too, princess.” Your hand tightens around his, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the night air engulf the both of you.

As Jaemin tilts his chin up for the second time tonight, his eyes finally catch a proper sight of the constellations he’s wished upon for who knows how long. He can name a few—the Dippers, and if he looks off to the side he can see Orion and Taurus.

All of it feels achingly familiar to Jaemin... yet tonight, there was something about the sky that set it apart from the others. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, nor if a change truly had occurred—he can just feel it.

But with your hand nestled in his, and your synchronizing heartbeats, Jaemin honestly couldn’t care less what the change was.

Because, somehow, it feels as if the heavens have shifted.

As if the stars have granted his wishes.

That you reciprocated his feelings.

And, at this moment, that's all that truly mattered to him.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Thank you for reading!! (^ᗜ^ ) Pls support my writing by liking/rbing (whatever you're most comfortable with!) Hope this made u feel something hehehehe

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kirimoochi · 9 months

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meet me in amsterdam.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au.

⤷ based on the song, "meet me in amsterdam" by rini.

"I would sail across the world, row this boat from dusk til dawn."

Al-Haitham glances over at your figure, watching as you skipped rocks against the lake. The two of you abandoned your senior prom in favor of star gazing. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, with you wearing a rather fanciful garment. In true Al-Haitham fashion, he keeps a pair of headphones covering his ears. You, on the other hand, were dressed reasonably well tonight. The jewelry that hangs from your neck shimmered underneath the moon’s light. He resists the urge to reach out with his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ear.

The two of you originally came with different partners. Al-Haitham had an inkling to ask you to the dance but had been beaten by the Inazuman transfer student. So he ended up settling on taking Nilou. It must have been fate that led to both your partners leaving you to converse with one another. The silver-haired man doesn’t know whether or not he should pump up his fist in satisfaction, or give you sympathy. On one hand, he was glad that your partner walked off to talk to Nilou. On the other hand, he hated the heartbroken look plastered across your face when you were left alone on the dance floor.

And so here you were. He grabbed you by the hand, ignoring your protests, and dragged you to a place that no other teenager would be on a Saturday night. You joked to him that he might be taking you to a secluded location to murder you, to which he replied with a snarky comment about how no one in this world would consider taking you out. Not because of the low percentages of murder in your hometown, but because he’d be the person protecting you. It’s cheesy, he has to admit. He read a couple of romance novels to prepare himself for a possible relationship with you, so he figured that being that knight in fairy tales might help him come off as heroic or reliable.

He notes the way your frown turns into a small smile. Did he do something right? He dares to hope so. After knowing you for the majority of high school, he has yet to figure out whether or not you enjoyed his presence. Sure, you might say you tolerate him, but he just wishes that you could just admit it directly. Say that you liked to be with him. Say that you liked going out with him on Wednesdays. Say that you liked walking back home with him. He only wants a few words of appreciation and desire from you. Anything could do. As long as it's from you.

You don’t say much other than a few words about how the stars look bright tonight. You press your lips together, your eyes beginning to brim with tears as you try to tear your thoughts away from the misfortunes of prom. Al-Haitham can see the way you press your hand against the lower half of your face, your lips shivering at the cold weather.

He nonchalantly takes off his jacket and pulls it over your shoulders. You stare at him with a surprised reaction, something that pulls him closer to you. He holds himself back from doing anything more and sighs under his breath, brushing aside a few strands of his slightly messy hair. You squeeze the edges of his jacket, holding it close to you. Al-Haitham calls your name. He points to a few stars dancing above the clouds, dragging your eyes to where his fingers landed. He takes the time to describe to you a few of the constellations.

You can see the way his lips curve into a smile as his eyes glimmer at the prospect of sharing new information with you. You try not to laugh in the middle of his explanations. He’s always been so passionate about knowledge. Always digging his nose into books when everyone else would rather party or watch movies. He’s the most exciting friend you had and one that you can’t explain your feelings for. He keeps you grounded. Pulling you back when you start to wander a little too far.

Slowly easing yourself closer to his figure, you let your pinkies touch. He says nothing when they do. His ears grow slightly hot but he stays focused on talking about the Northstar. Saying nothing more to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, humming in contentment as his voice drowns out the worries in your head. Prom wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Perhaps you should have gone with him from the very beginning.

"There ain't no sunshine, no sunshine, where I was before."

Kaveh groans and reaches out to open Al-Haitham’s door, seeing that the room was pitch dark except for the small night light illuminating his restless figure. It was the same night light you’d gifted him when he was a high schooler, believing that it might scare away the restless nightmares that haunted him. It was a childish reason, Al-Haitham claims, he’s not some child that needs light because he’s afraid of the darkness. Yet he uses it every night, even now, when he’s in college. Not that you would know.

Kaveh scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the frame of the door, complaining about the tossing and turning he could hear from the other room. He wants to scold the younger man, but when he sees the way tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, he can’t seem to say anything. He presses his lips together as the silver-haired man pulls himself together. He’s in an upright sitting position with his back against the headboard, his arm held up in an attempt to shield his tears from the blond.

This was the first time the older man saw him so defensive. He’s always been high in the clouds, too far out of reach for him to believe that he could love. It’s absurd, he understands. Al-Haitham is human. He’s made of the same components as himself. He has flesh and blood running through him. A heart that beats a little too quickly to be caught. And being human comes with complicated feelings that twist and churn in his stomach.

Kaveh restrains himself from letting out a sigh when Al-Haitham wipes away at the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes towards his roommate. He tries to snap at him with a snarky comment in an attempt to push him away. However, the blond knows him. Perhaps a little more than Al-Haitham gives him credit for. He pushes through the invisible force that drives him away, his figure resting at the end of his bed as he finally lets go of the breath he’s holding.

He knows about you through photos. Pictures Al-Haitham left on his phone. He wasn’t one to snoop yet when he saw your glimmering smile on the front of his wallpaper, it screamed to him. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know who this mysterious person was. Don’t blame Kaveh for remembering Al-Haitham’s password. It was a straight line down the keypad: 2580852. Anyone could remember it. And he needs to change it asap if he doesn’t want Kaveh to see anything unnecessary.

He figures that something occurred between the two of you for him to act so vulnerable. Al-Haitham was the kind of person who would hide his feelings underneath snotty comments and a stoic face. But underneath he can be just as vulnerable as the next person. He has feelings and emotions that he is confused by. It stings and he doesn’t know what he could do to fix it. Reading books about his symptoms only leads him to a path of more confusion and utter nonsense. Had the circumstances been different, Kaveh would have mocked him for being a hopeless romantic.

Yet now was not the time. Even if he did theoretically hate Al-Haitham for his messy habits around the house, his incapability to clean up after himself, and the way he toss and turned in bed causing Kaveh to wake up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t leave him like this. So he asks him if he’s okay. His eyes eyeing him from the side as Al-Haitham lets out a scoff, shrugging it off. Very typical of him.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither of them talked. They only rested their shoulders, letting them slump over. Al-Haitham turns to the night light, his teal irises flickering from its existence to Kaveh’s. He figures that it was time to tell him about the darkness that plagues his mind. It would be better than clogging it up in every nook and cranny of his mind. And perhaps Kaveh might sympathize a little. Maybe he’d grow a bit more quiet around the house. And stopped nagging him about the books piling up on the coffee table.

Al-Haitham has long acknowledged his strange feelings for you, his childhood friend. He knows that the quickening beat of his heart was something more than simple jitters. The way you reached out to brush aside his hair left flickers of flames on his pale skin. Your smile that brightens up his day is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. And the lingering stare he has on his toothbrush makes him wonder what it would be like to have yours beside his.

But at last, it seemed as if you slipped through the cracks of his fingers. His inability to express to you his true feelings was left burning on the tip of his tongue. Even if he was a brutally straightforward man, he had his weaknesses. And one of those was you.

"Won't you come closer, let it take over."

Al-Haitham stares at you, frozen in his steps. You're at the same late that night of prom. This time at least, you had a few more layers of clothing to keep you warm from tonight's weather. In your hand was a small pebble that you twirled between your fingers. The tips of your nails glide against the rough surface before flicking your wrist, sending it flying a couple of steps.

It's been a while since he last saw you. You had moved away to a different college. He attended one further south, while you left for the north. You started a new life with a different job. Met a couple of new friends from Mondstadt. Your appearance was mainly the same, except for a few loose strands that fell to the sides of your cheeks.

You've seen each other a couple of times on your feeds. Al-Haitham has the habit of liking whatever you post. He hardly ever comments. If the day seemed right, he would drop a few lines asking about the book you're reading in the corner of the photo. But never something in an attempt to reconnect with you. He figured that you've grown too far out of his reach. And that perhaps it would be better if he allowed you to live your life without you.

It stung him for the majority of college. You and he called frequently in freshman year. However, it quickly diminished as the years went on. Your conversations diverged from asking him about his day to talking about your new coworkers and how you'll contact him when you get your new schedule. He tries to keep a smile on his face and nods to everything you say. He figures that his feelings for you might stay unrequited for a while. Maybe you knew from the start and didn't want to tell him, out of fear that you might embarrass him.

He’s unsure of what he should do at this moment. Should he reach out? Should he sit next to you? Could you still talk like the old days? He wrestles with the thoughts in his head, not noticing the way you turn your head to him, offering him the familiar kind-hearted smile he’s grown too fond of. He nervously sits beside you, his body still as a board while you chuckle.

He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him in person. He was a little shorter when he was in high school. Now that you were older, he towered over you. He was always a quiet man, you knew this to be true. Despite being close friends for the majority of high school and a bit beyond, he never shared more than he had to. His face, while stoic, always implied that he was holding back something. His tongue was lodged further back than other people.

But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The two of you are older now. More mature than ever. The past mistakes you’ve created started to shape who you were today. And that person came back to him.

"I don't need anything, I just want you."

He remembers the feeling of your skin against him. When you pulled him by his fingers, guiding him through the open area of street markets. Older couples would stand outside their vendors, waving to people with the smell of freshly cooked food. Al-Haitham doesn’t say anything as you skipped around. The smile on his face says more than enough. Your eyes sparkled in excitement when you point to the mangos being sold in a cup. You had your signature bright smile, the one that would light up the entire world when it grows dark. It was the same familiar feeling he received whenever he turns on his childish nightlight.

He’s quiet when you notice an older stall, too busy being distracted by the warmth of your hand to make any rational decisions regarding your spending habits. You opened your wallet to pour out a couple of coins, handing it to the street vendor. In a matter of seconds, you hold up a few skewers towards Al-Haitham, gesturing for him to try the food. He drops a couple of snarky words towards you, but it was quickly silenced when you pushed the food against his lips. He lets out a sigh. He reaches out to hold your hand, the same one gripping the skewer, and settles by taking a bite.

You try to ignore the way your face grows a bit warmer when he chews slowly. His expression which had been neutral, morphed into enjoyment. He comments on the tenderness and how savory it was. You’ve always known that he liked meat but seeing him grow so close to you made you wonder what else you knew. He takes one more bite before pushing it back towards you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “You should try it as well,” he says, taking your other free hand and interlacing your fingers.

For some reason, you start to feel a bit nervous. You don’t say anything when he holds up the stick as you eat. The sparkle in your eyes continues to shine radiantly as you finish the rest of the food. A smile still spread across your face. Now, he’s the one pulling you to another vendor, pointing at a few items and ordering them for the two of you to try. He wants you to experience some of his favorites as well.

He doesn’t know how to describe this scene in words. Watching you enjoy a meal in front of him, your hands reaching out to feed him on the occasion sent waves of butterflies in his stomach. He questions if this was the start of something new for your relationship. Friends, close friends, distant friends, and back around to friends. Will you see something different in him if he continued to hint at his feelings? Could you feel his pulse whenever you hold his hand? Can you feel how quickly it beats for you?

He wants to express to you the words that have been lodged in his throat. The same ones that Kaveh wishes so desperately he could spill. Roommate or not, he says that this game of cat and mouse has gone on for too long. It was so blatantly obvious that he was still in love with you. So hopelessly, devoted to you, even when you’re so far out of reach sometimes.

He understands that he isn’t the first person people think of when it comes to romance. But he wants you to see him for who he was. Someone that could open up the world for you. Someone that would sail the seas just to embrace you underneath the moonlight. Someone who dreams of you every night, hoping that you might catch his lingering touches that sting like an ember.

He says something to you in another language. I like you, it translates. It causes you to perk up in interest as you lean your head against the palm of your hand. He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, rolling his eyes as you tease him about what he said. You poke and prodded at his cheek, pouting every time he gives you a dry answer. He would eventually shut you up by holding up a fork, shoving the rest of your food in your mouth.

He ignores your cries and moans, begging him to give you a translation of what he says. He only pushes your head away and squeezes your hand a little tighter. He hopes that you can’t see the way his pale skin reflects the red tint of apples.

“If there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam”

He sucks in a deep breath when he pushes you down onto the sofa. Your eyes stare deep into his as your fingers glide across his skin. He tries not to whimper when you press against his rose-tinted lips. Your presence to him was addicting. It kept pulling him back and forth like an ocean wave. You’ve caught him in your net and he can’t find the power to break himself free.

Kaveh was out of the house today and the silver-haired man jumped at the opportunity to bring you over. It’s been months since you’ve first reconnected with him. Months spent so generously with the man before you. After spending a week in town, you decided to extend your say just a little bit longer. You wanted to explore this strange flame that had developed in your chest. And it would lead you here. Your back against the soft cushions as Al-Haitham pinned you down.

Oh, how he longed for this moment. For him to stare deep into your eyes with nothing more but fondness for you. For him to finally share how he feels without having to look over his shoulder. For him to finally tell you that he truly, wholeheartedly, loves you with everything he has. He wants to finally tell you that he’s been waiting since high school to hold your hand like this. Waiting throughout college to kiss you. Dreaming all this time to be yours.

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent as you smile. Was this the breaking of the dam? The flood that is your relationship, coming to crash against this wall? The tension that had been mimicking the push and pull of a rope was beginning to snap. And he could feel nothing except explosions at the pit of his stomach as he pressed his lips against yours. He holds onto you tightly, scared of losing you one more time.

But you stay. You bury your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to you. He rested his weight against your stomach, fingers clutching onto your waist. Kocham Cię, he says when he breaks away from you. Air becomes short when he goes back to snatching your lips. Anh yêu em, he whispers against your skin. Seni seviyorum. He squeezes your waist. Eu te amo. He tilts his head just a little to capture you once more. Ya lyublyu tebya. He pulls away from you with heavy breaths.

He wants you to know how much he loves you. He wants you to see the number of times he’s held back on kissing you each time you smile. You were like the sun to him. So warm and out of reach at times, yet he desired you nonetheless. He waited years for this moment. And he wants nothing more than to indulge. If you would have him, he would give you everything. He would give you everything he is, and so much more.

Ich liebe dich, he kisses the side of your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he kisses your forehead. Te quiero, he kisses your nose. You let out a few giggles as you attempt to push him away. Wrapping your legs around him, you keep him steady. His body is squished against yours. You begin to melt in his arms, his lips still kissing the surface of your skin. He looks into your eyes with those beautiful teal irises.

I love you, he finally says.

And you would reply with, I love you too.

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