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#and then she met him again as he was gathering up all the dead so they could go together
gierosajie · 1 year
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Thinking about how there's a lot more ghosts wandering Mondstadt in the Archon Dvalin AU than usual because Venti is usually the one sending off spirits into the afterlife and well. he's kinda stuck on that side post-Cataclysm
At first there weren't any because they just followed Venti, but afterwards there were some that still lingered and the number just kept piling up over the centuries. Many did eventually go on their own, but there's just more that didn't want to or simply couldn't
Dvalin doesn't know how to send them off, no one really showed him how and he doubts that even if he knew, he probably couldn't. Still, whenever a spirit decides to show themself, he stays with them for a bit, just to alleviate their burdens even a little and maybe help them find enough peace
It's probably another thing that eats at him alive because he couldn't even help those that he failed to protect, no matter how much most of them say it isn't his fault
And then, after the whole reconciliation with Celio thing, one of the lingering spirits asks him for a song. Before, he might've gently turned down the request, but after everything, he decided he might as well
Dvalin starts singing an old song he loved. Singing it had been painful, once, considering it was made as a duet and having to listen to the silent answer just brought him nothing but grief. Now, there's a sort of peace to how the breeze and the sound of nature fill in the gaps and pauses.
Over the course of the song, more and more ghosts come to listen. By the end of it, Dvalin opens his eyes to see most of them disappear, not in terms of hiding away like usual but rather beginning to dissolve into light as they finally move on
The last one to leave was the one who requested a song. She turns to smile at him. "I suppose I can finally tell that bard how much you've grown," she says before finally dissipating into the wind
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minispidey · 8 months
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CAB SWITCH.
Jake Lockley x f!reader.
Steven Grant x f!reader.
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Summary: Jake's in between your legs in his cab when Steven accidentally fronts.
Warning: smut, oral f!receiving, dub-con (??), cab seggs.
A/N: I've never written the moon boys all together being mentioned (its just steven and jake mentioned here now) if I wrote anything wrong lmk! Thank you!
Words: 858 NOT BETA READ.
Shout out to bestie @ominoose for brainstorming a lot with me 💅💅 and sharing ideas. ily bubs.
MDNI.
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"Jake..." you whined, tugging on his coat "Need you so bad, please."
A predatory smirk curls on Jake's lips as your words hit him like a jolt of electricity "Is that so, amor?" he murmurs, his voice laced with desire "So impatient."
After pulling up on an empty dead end, he gets out of his cab. He opens your side and pulled back your seat, making a large space on the ground of the cab "You'll always get what you want."
Without another word, Jake reaches over to unbuckle your seatbelt, his movements swift and confident. He then leans in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue darting out to seek entrance. You feel his leather glove on top of your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles.
He then slid his hand higher on your thigh, his gloved fingers teasingly grazing your inner thigh. He leans in again, his lips trailing hot kisses along your jawline, his breath warm against your skin.
You bit your lip as he enters the cab, shutting the door and sitting on the ground, your legs spread wide in front of him. His eyes locked with yours, his gaze filled with a mix of hunger and intensity. Without hesitation, he pulls your panties down and he dove in, his tongue expertly exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh "F-Fuck, Jake...!" you moaned as you threw your head back.
As he continues to pleasure you, his hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you with a voracious hunger. The sensations overwhelm you, causing your body to arch and your breath to hitch in ecstasy. The sounds of your moans and gasps fill the car.
He uses his fingers to heighten your pleasure, skillfully exploring every sensitive spot. The combination of his skilled tongue and relentless fingers pushes you closer and closer to the edge.
Jake pulls away, his lips glistening with your essence. He leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss "So fucking sweet, cariño..."
He continues to suck and lick your clit, his movements becoming more relentless and focused. He revels in the taste of your arousal, the way your body trembles under his touch "Jake... oh, shit..." you let out strings of curses, gripping the leather seat "F-Fuck..."
You snap your legs around his face, overwhelmed with pleasure, trapping him in between your thighs.
You didn't see him roll his eyes, and little did you know, Steven suddenly fronted, finding himself in an intimate position between your legs. Confusion crossed his features when he was met by the sight of your glistening pussy. His breath hitched, feeling your plush thighs around his head.
So many thoughts ran in his head. He could hear Jake scolding him, but it was muffled to Steven as he listened to your whimpers.
His eyes were filled with hesitation and determination as he leaned in. Steven used his teeth and pulled off the wet leather gloves, tossing them aside. He gathered your wetness with his bare fingers before dipping inside your warm cavern "Fuck, Jake...."
Right. She thought he was Jake.
His inexperience was evident, but his willingness to please you was undeniable. He may not have possessed the same confidence as Jake, but Steven was determined to make this moment pleasurable for you in his own gentle and caring way, his tongue flicking and swirling against your sensitive clit.
Driven by a newfound confidence and a desire to please you, Steven intensified his actions. He sucked and lapped at your swollen bud, his lips creating a delicious suction that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His fingers joined in the dance, sliding along your slick folds, teasing and exploring the depths of your desire.
"Jake... holy shit, Jake!" the car started to get stuffy, the windows fogging up a bit. Steven pumped his fingers in and out of you faster, curling at your sweet spot. He reveled in the way your body responded to his touch, the way your hips bucked and your moans grew louder.
As your moans reached a crescendo, Steven knew you were close. With one final surge of intensity, he redoubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to push you over the edge. And when your climax finally crashed over you, he reveled in the sight and sound of your release, knowing that he had played a part in your pleasure.
"Did that feel good, love?"
His shy British accent surprised you, making your head snap up "Oh... uh... it did. Thank you, Jake."
"Yeah, just a sec, love..." Steven rubs his temples, his fingers still covered in your release. He could hear Jake's scoldings get louder.
His eyes roll back again, Jake was back. He couldn't help but feel cockblocked by none other than sweet innocent Steven. But he didn't want to weird you out any further.
"Let's get back to your place. You still got condoms?"
You tilt your head to the side, hearing his Spanish accent was back "Yeah."
Jake's gonna tell you about Marc and Steven eventually. Just not tonight.
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yeollie-plz · 3 months
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Ever Since We Met, I Only Shoot Up With Your Perfume
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Din Djarin x F! Reader
Synopsis: You receive a new perfume, Din really likes your new perfume.
Genre: fluff, smut
Warnings: pheromone perfume, its giving sex pollen without the sex pollen, p in v sex, unprotected sex, thigh riding
Gif credits to owners!
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"Hey you!" A voice called out from the alley way to your left, you turn your head in search of the face that matched the sound. Meeting eyes with an older woman, her face hiding slightly in the shadows.
"You look like you're in love." This statement stops you dead in your tracks, how did she know that? You can't stop your eyes from widening slightly, your jaw turning slack at the woman's words.
You and Din had been traveling together for a while. You also have had a crush on Din for almost as long. Only recently has that crush came more to the surfaced, with his own confession of affection. It hasn't really turned it much yet, but yes, you were in love.
"He doesn't love you back...no wait-" She pauses, scanning your face "-He does...you're just taking your time." She smirks now, almost like she knows she's right. Its annoying that she is.
"I've got something for you." You still haven't replied to her, yet she continues to talk, and yet you continue to stay watching her carefully.
Pushing a small white bottle towards you, she shakes it, almost like she's tempting you with it. But you aren't swayed that easily, you stand there, defensive. She lets out a laugh.
"Take it, I got chased away from the market. It used to be a huge seller! But you, you need it. Take it." She shakes it again.
"I don't usually take things from ladies in alley ways." You finally speak, her eyes gleam at your words.
"Smart rule." She stands there contemplating her words, "Listen, its perfume. It'll-it'll help you with your... Mandalorian?" Her eyes snap up to the figure that has suddenly appeared behind you. Her words mirror her shock. Glancing behind you, you confirm that it is a Mandalorian. Your Mandalorian, in fact.
"Trouble, cyar'ika?" Din says, his tin-like words coming through his helmet. The sound shocks the woman slightly, she stumbles back. Uncharacteristic of the woman that was once so confident in front of you.
"No, no trouble." You turn to look at him, eyes soft as they stare into the beskar of his helmet. A hand comes up to touch his chest plate, a gesture intended to calm him down, but little do you know it makes his heart beat faster.
Turning back to the woman, who is now hurriedly gathering all her things. She shoves the bottle into your hand and rushes off as quickly as she showed up.
"I feel like she had a bounty out on her or something." You say more to yourself than to Din. He grunts in response, eyes trained to where the woman disappeared into the dark.
"What did she give you?" He is now looking down at the bottle in your hand. The concern very evident.
"Just perfume, said it would help me?" You shrug and push past his large form, making your way back to the ship. He follows behind you like a puppy, trailing on your heels. Despite your nonchalant reaction to the gift, Din can't help but be a bit apprehensive.
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When you awoke the next day, you got ready like usual, but as you passed the tiny white bottle, it glinted in the sun. The shine drew your eye to the glass. It was almost as if the woman was whispering to you now, "Put it on." You shrugged and picked up the bottle, spraying a bit onto your wrist to test the scent. You sniffed the spot, trying to discern the smell. Nothing. It smelt like nothing?
No, that can't be it. All that just for it to smell like nothing. Maybe it was just mild, maybe you needed to put more on. Yes, that was it. You picked up the bottle once again and sprayed it all over you, making sure to use a good amount. Sniffing the air, you still didn't smell much. No way, you were scammed!
Well, you didn't actually pay her anything, so was it really a scam? You shook your head in disbelief. It wasn't poison, right? Your heart beat faster in fear, maybe it was poison and you just willingly covered yourself in it.
Shaking your head at your silliness, you ignored the pit in your stomach at the thought. Why would someone be trying to poison you? Yes, the old lady was very persistent, but somehow you trusted her. It just must not be that strong of a scent, that had to be it.
As you made your way to the helm, you found Din standing with his back to you, messing with something on the console. He turned as he heard your footsteps approaching him. You didn't know it but a smile formed on his face as you came into view.
Settling yourself into the pilot's seat, his helmet tilted at you in question. It was something the two of you would do almost everyday. You'd steal his seat, making yourself comfortable, until he grumbled at you to move. It was almost like a game at this point. He would never admit it but he liked the way you looked sitting there. He could just picture himself under you...
He shook his head, trying to get the image out of it. Pretending to go back to what he was doing, he slowly worked his way towards you. Din just wanted to be closer to you in any way he could. But as he side stepped in front of you, a new scent wafted towards him. It flooded his senses, vision blackened, lust washed over him. What was this?
"Uhm...did you use that new perfume?" He questioned. Your eyes narrowed at the back of his head, while he continued to fiddle with some buttons.
"I did, but it didn't smell like much so I don't think I'll use it again." You shrugged, looking down at your nails. He abruptly turned around, the speed of the action caused you to look back up at him.
"I think you should keep wearing it." He said definitively. Eyebrows furrowing, you tried to read his body language.
"Oh, okay then? I'm gonna go get some work done." You said, confused by his actions. You got up and wandered away, not sure what to do with the way Din was acting.
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Almost a week went by, and at Din's request you continued to wear the perfume. The scent never seemed to get stronger for you, but your confusion did. Because every time you walked into the room, Din almost melted. As the perfume wafted towards him, all his reservations diminished. It took everything in him to not just take you the moment he smelt you. And every night he would touch himself to the thought of you.
He wanted to push you down on the console, have you like putty in his hands. Dripping all over him, fucking you so hard you forgot your own name. Anything to touch you. Anything to have you touch him. Anything to relieve this...spell.
"Din?" You questioned from the doorway. This finally snapped him out of his thoughts, as he turned to look at you. If the scent had him already begging for you, the way you looked right now had him on his knees. You were stood there in nothing but a nightdress, the material of which left almost nothing to the imagination.
"I've been calling you." You laughed, his body melted at the sound. You didn't seem to notice.
"Sorry, I'm just in my own world over here." He couldn't take this anymore, the push and pull was all too much for him. He needed to fell you and soon. His body craved yours.
Slowly he stepped closer to you, helmet dropped to the soft spot of your shoulder. The cold of his helmet sent a shiver down your spine, as he breathed you in right over your pressure point.
"You smell so good." He muttered metallically into your neck. Another shiver racked down your body.
"Din..." You whimpered, your own constraints snapping with his proximity. Although you had wanted it and thought about it for a while, it still scared you to take that step with Din. But you wanted him...needed him in this moment.
Its like he can read your mind, "Need you." He now mumbles out, still breathing in your scent.
"Me too." With this confirmation, he lifts his head. His visor meeting your eyes, trying to read them. You let yours bore into his, trying to work past the black to prove you really did want this.
"Need you." You mirror his words and that's all he needs before he is picking you up like you are nothing and carrying you into his quarters. He throws you onto his bed, hands instantly finding purchase with your flushed body.
Din starts at your stomach, letting his fingers move slowly up until they are kneading your breasts. Massaging them expertly, the soft material of your dress adding to the sensitivity. He tweaks one nipple, causing your hips to buck up into his thigh that is slotted between your legs.
His hands stop, "Careful, mesh'la."
That's all the warning you need to try and keep yourself in check. The darkness of his voice and his desperate actions making you realize he's not one to mess with tonight. Not that you're complaining, you want him to use you.
One hand returns to your breast, abandoning it's previous mission. The other continues it, making its way don your legs. It ghosts over your sensitive mound and you can't help but let your hips buck up again. He tsks at you through the beskar.
"Told you to be careful. But I know my baby is so desperate for me right now, so why don't you show me. Show me how badly you want this cock."
He backs off of you and you almost whimper at the loss of body heat. He takes off his chest plate and leg plates, leaving only his under armor. His body seemed so defined without all that heavy armor.
Leaving his helmet and arm plates, he sits on the bed resting his back on the wall behind the bed. He pats his thigh, showing you what he wants you to do. Complying almost instantly you saunter over to him.
Not sure if you should undress, you decide against it as to not get yourself in more trouble. Instead, you hike your dress up your thighs, flashing your panties to him before settling over his thigh. His eyes darken at the sight, if only you could see them.
Din's hands find purchase of your hips and start to work your soaked core on his thigh. He flexes it as you begin to gain your own rhythm, now only using his hands as support.
Your speed increases as you begin to near your peak. You can't believe you are this worked up just from him barely touching you. Kriff, the things this man does to you.
He continues to flex underneath you, the feeling makes it so much more heightened. You stroke your core against his muscles, knowing how much he wants this too. Movements begin to falter and Din seems to notice this. Using his hand to help keep your pace up, the other finds your breast again massaging it to help you closer to your orgasm.
You gasp out, hands pushing through your hair as you arch your back. Your orgasm finally washing over you. The feeling so intense after months of not having one. The initial shocks subside and you fall into his chest, his very warm and hard chest you note.
He lifts you up off his thigh and places you stomach down onto the bed. Ripping your panties off of your body, causing you to gasp. Your head looks back at him as he stands, looking down at the wet spot on his pants.
He tuts quietly, "Dirty girl, why don't you spread those legs for me? I need to be inside you."
Legs spread apart, revealing your dripping pussy to him. He strips his pants, revealing his own hard member to you. Your eyes widen at this sight, gulping down the lump in your throat. When you decided to fuck Din, you didn't know you were getting into something that big!
Stepping towards you, he strokes his dick, making sure it is hard enough. Although he knew that wasn't really a problem with all that has happened so far. He teases your entrance with his member, getting it a bit lubed up to make the stretch a little better for you.
"I'm gonna fuck you now. I'm only saying this because once I start, I won't be able to stop." You almost laugh at his warning, like you would want him to stop!
Even so, you give him his confirmation, "I want you, Din."
That's all he needs, pushing his tip into you. You can tell it's taking everything in him not to just force himself in past your walls. You appreciate the gesture, but in this moment you would take anything he were to give you.
Once he has decided that you have adjusted enough, he pushes in more and more slowly, letting you feel all of him. Bottoming out, he gives you just a second to adjust this time before he can't take it anymore. He's pulling out to his tip and fucking back into you roughly.
Your body jerks forward as he roughly fucks into you. He pulls out slowly just to push back in, hitting your cervix every time. Din lifts your hips to find a new angle in you. This new angle causes his dick to hit right on your g spot. The feeling has your whimpering and almost drooling, already rapidly approaching another orgasm.
Din can tell to as your cunt clenches onto his dick, "Gonna cum for me again aren't you, cyar'ika?"
You can only whimper in response as your pussy clenches once again, he chuckles at you. You don't have the time to be mad at his laughing, before his hand is making contact with your clit and your orgasm is washing over your body. Your vision turns white as you involuntarily shake with the force of your orgasm.
Before you have fully recovered from the feeling, Din is pulling out, instantly making you overstimulated. But he doesn't seem to notice the way you groan out quietly or the jerk of your hips. He is too busy flipping you over and moving your legs up to his shoulders. Pushing his dick into you again, he continues his assault on your now even more sensitive pussy.
His pace is faster now, a sign that he is also getting close to his peak. Hands holding onto your ankles, knowing you are too weak to do it yourself. His hips are rolling into your yours as he thrusts, hitting your clit while he fucks you.
"Next time, I'm going to taste you, mesh'la." He grunts while thrusting into you. The words and feeling cause you to moan.
"Come on, baby, one more for me." His pace has slowed only slightly so he can gauge your reaction. Your face reels with a bit of pain at the thought, but quickly recovers.
"You can do it." He urges and goes back to his previous pace. One hand now finding your clit, moving it in circles to draw you closer to your third orgasm.
Although your body was spent and you weren't sure you could do it, he was. And he was determined to do everything in his power to get you over your edge one more time.
His thumb continues to circle your clit, pressing on the bud roughly. With a clench of your pussy on his dick, he is moving his digit faster and fucking you harder (if that was even possible). That's when the wave washes over you once again. This time your eyes roll back as your back arches off of the bed. Hips meet his and head knocks back at the feeling.
The feeling of your pussy and the look at your pleasured body, throws Din also over his edge as he finishes inside of you. Hips beginning to stutter as he fills you with his spend. He bottoms out into you once more, keeping his dick there.
You are still coming down from your high when you notice that he is still inside of you. Head tilting in confusion at him.
"Making sure you know who you belong to." He says, knowing what you were gesturing at. Finally pulling out, much to his dismay, he helps you lets your legs relax. Knowing they are probably sore, he massages them lightly.
Both of you are laying there, now content and completely fucked out. When a thought comes to your head. You sit up quickly with a gasp. Obviously now very concerned, Din sits up too.
"I know what the lady was talking about now." You say, like it all made so much sense now.
"What?" He questions, obviously not getting it.
"The perfume lady! She said the perfume would help me! I get it now!" He sits there at your confession, still confused.
You sigh, "It must be some sort of perfume that only appeals to you! I couldn't smell it, but you loved it!" He hums, starting to understand it now.
"And it did help me!" You laugh, "It helped me get laid!"
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s4toryuu · 4 months
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12:37 am — gojo satoru; sashisu
gojo satoru refuses to drink his medicine…
reblog to help gojo get better
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out of everything you could call satoru, you think dramatic takes the top spot. so when you wake up in the middle of the night, you listen out for what could possibly have waken you up.
“koff! koff! UGH!” you recognized gojo’s voice from the dorm building behind yours.
oh my fucking god. you sighed. that morning, that idiot had to get sent to his dorm because he kept coughing every time yaga spoke. he sneezed and sniffled, so you assumed that he was actually ill and didn’t just decide to up his antics for no reason. besides, he was a little quieter than usual today.
you got up to put on a jacket and practically stomped to gojo’s dorm, where you were met with his open door and geto standing against the door frame.
“satoru, I told you the medicine wouldn’t be as effective later on.” geto sighed. you noticed his socks. they were pastel with characters on them. you ignored it to yell at who probably gave it to him.
“gojo! if you’re gonna cough just cough! you don’t have to yell after!” you said before sliding one of gojo’s slippers. there that idiot was, laying down faced up with arms stiff on his side and his comforter raised up to his chin. “are you playing dead?”
gojo groaned. “guys.” he sniffled. “I think this is it for me. suguru, I always loved you. y/n, I did steal your marshmallows last movie night. shoko—where’s shoko?” he looked up, illness suddenly voided for a second until shoko appears behind you. her dorm is a couple doors from yours after all. the snow-haired drama queen’s head fell back on his pillow and his sickness returned.
“eh, what?” she muttered to him before stepping inside. gojo started coughing again.
“are you contagious?” you asked before shifting away from gojo’s bed. geto took the medicine he got from gojo’s counter and placed it on the latter’s nightstand.
shoko walked over and sat on his bed. she placed her hand on gojo’s forehead before snickering. “you’re burning up. you really are gonna die.” she laughed.
you all chuckled, except gojo who whined again. “can’t you use reverse cursed technique on me shoookooo…”
“nope. I’ve only done it on physical injuries. why won’t you just drink the medicine?” she took the plastic little spoon and wiggled it to gojo’s face for emphasis.
gojo screwed his eyes shut and shook his head like a child. “don’t wanna.” if it wasn’t 12:37am on a school night you might’ve found it adorable.
“you might really die, satoru.” geto shot from the foot of gojo’s bed. he definitely woke up from his coughing and subsequent yelling, seeing as geto’s room is right next to gojo’s.
the next morning after your first class, the three of you gathered in the cafeteria and geto stirred up a plan.
“he’s probably not drinking it because he thinks it’s bitter.” you conclude.
suguru sipped on his tea. “ah, I know. that’s why I got the honey flavor version.”
“how are we gonna force him to drink it? it’s not like we can force feed it to him.” shoko shook her lollipop. you were just glad it wasn’t a cigarette.
“he’ll just turn on his infinity. I think we have to ambush him.” you laughed at the image.
“geto, summon a cursed spirit to hold him down.” shoko joked.
the cold breeze practically slapped you while walking to the dorms. geto was sure your victim was still asleep. he had the spare key when you thought to take off your shoes for maximum stealth. the two followed.
geto stood in front of the door to block the light while you and shoko slithered in. it was dark except for the nightlight by satoru’s night stand. you could make out the important things. the untouched medicine, and gojo sprawled over his bed under his sheets. he faced the left side cuddling a pillow. tissues filled the trash can dragged by his bed and some on the floor. poor kid.
geto tiptoed to the other side of the bed where satoru was faced while shoko prepared the poison. you got in position across geto and stifled a laugh at shoko trying to break the seal as quiet as possible. she tiptoed next to you and nodded to geto.
“satoru” geto called out. “satoru, wake up.”
“sugu…” gojo whined. he didn’t open his eyes. geto gestured for the syrup-filled spoon. shoko handed it to him promptly and again, you stifled a laugh at your plan.
“satoru-kun. aaah,” geto opened his mouth. geto using “-kun” was too funny.
surprisingly, satoru opened his mouth slightly too. what the hell? this wasn’t even part of the plan. suguru took the spoon to satoru’s mouth.
shit, it would probably just spill out with the way he was faced, you realized. you lunged to push satoru’s shoulder to the right so that he would face up. you decided him choking on it was better than it spilling. because that way it would at least get in his mouth.
gojo woke up. he made eye contact with you and immediately tried to get up. he moved his hand to push yours off but you held his shoulders down with your weight and geto got all the syrup in.
“MMGHFHG!” gojo yelled with his mouth closed. he struggled against you, and you gave it 5 seconds before his strength took over and even less before he activated infinity.
“geto!” you called and he took over your hold on sicko’s shoulders.
gojo started kicking, and you straddled his shins.
“swallow!” geto exclaimed as gojo tried to push his hands off. shit, this wouldn’t work.
“geto! get on!” you yelled and geto straddled gojo’s stomach.
“swallow it!” suguru grabbed gojo’s arms and held them against the bed by his head.
“HHNGNGGHH!” satoru shook his head.
“satoru! it’s honey flavored!” geto argued.
shoko laughed and you heard her camera shutter. she stood far enough to snap a picture and you realized what it looked like. you were straddling gojo’s calves while suguru was straddling gojo’s, uh… lower stomach with his hands pinned by his head.
then, as if on queue, the door opened. your heads snapped to the door and you saw your sweet (to you, at least) junior nanami for about .7 seconds before the door closed again.
you flew off of gojo’s calves. “nanami! wait!”
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this ended with a lot more stsg than I thought lol
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idkfitememate · 4 months
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all I can think of is a golden weasel!Creator
who for whatever reason is dead set on finding a way to either mess with the examine board or find sneak into the funeral parlor-
anyway various animal creator my love(s)🫰
“Zhongli! They’re at the door again!!”
Zhongli huffed with a smile as he walked to the door, picking up a one mora on the way. Opening the door he was met with your silly little smiling face.
“Hello little one. Here you are. Have fun doing whatever it is you do with this mora hehe.” Zhongli smiled at you as you put the mora in the rather large pack on your back.
“Wait wait wait!! I’ve got a little donation too!” Hu Tao cried. She waved a single mora in the air as she ran to the door.
“Here ya go little guy!~ Have fun with it!~” She waved you off as she stood behind Zhongli, watching you run off to… well where ever you ran off too.
Unlike other weasel theives, you never took more than one mora a day from you “targets”. Rushing all throughout Liyue, you had everyone wrapped around your tiny little paw.
From Hu Tao and Zhongli to even the Adepti. All have you one mora. That was twelve mora a day in itself. But then you had everyone else (non vision users), so that came toooooo… five hundred and one mora!.. What? Mountain Shaper liked to give you two mora :).
Now I bet you’re wondering: “What do you do with all this mora? As a weasel, you didn’t really have a real need for mora… right?
WRONG!
You ran your ass to the edge of Liyue, all the way to a houseboat no one cared to notice.
Wondering in, you were met with the sight of the old man who had saved you from becoming just another weasel thief.
He refused to give his name, fearing everyday might be his last. That’s what he first said when he met you, and that’s why he saved you. To preform one more good deed.
That was two years ago.
He had been getting stronger everyday and you couldn’t be more proud.
You would gather the mora for him so he would feel the need to get up and use it. To survive. And you were right there beside him.
You hopped up on his lap, murring and calling at him. He rubbed up and down your back, gently removing the pack from your back.
“Hello there my dear. How was today’s heist?”
Gods you loved him and would do anything for him.
Since you didn’t have a clear ending I took the reins and made one! Hehe, cute little thief stealing to help a nice old man no one cares about anymore. Mmmm, familial bonds mmmmm ૮꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ა
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slayfics · 3 days
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heyyy i love you’re writing!! i’ve been listening to so much nessa barrett lately and her one song “lie” made me really want to read like a bakugou x reader story line of the song i feel like you’re writing would work well with it 🥹🥹
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You see Katsuki on tv. Warnings: angst 600 words
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You watched as bubbles crackled in your now almost empty drink, the ice collapsing into itself. Lime soaked and slowly disintegrated in the liquid.
"Another one sweetheart?" The bartender asks, bringing you out of your daydream.
You nod with a faint smile, it's the biggest smile you can gather up. The bartender gets working on your drink, feeling obligated to make small talk he looks up at you again, "You here alone?" he asks, pouring a shot into a new glass.
It's a simple question. It shouldn't send you spiraling, but it does.
"Yeah," you reply shortly.
He tops the drink off with soda water and lime and slides it over to your side of the bar, "Well I'm sure that's by choice," he says giving you a courteous wink and nod.
You can't help but scoff. Of course, it's not by choice. There is someone you want to be here with.
Then as if your thoughts willed it so, breaking news broadcasts on the screen interrupting the mundane sitcom. "Pro hero Dynamite at work to subdue a villain," the live feed reads.
You can't stop the way your pupils dilate, and your fingers tighten around your glass.
The helicopter filming the scene struggles to keep up with his movements, but there he is exploding through the city effortlessly giving the villain the fight of their life.
Cops attempt to keep pedestrians at bay, but the crowd is excited to see Dynamite working in action. The group of onlookers only grows as more pull out their phones to record.
He's so famous now.
It happened overnight.
One moment it was just you and Katsuki, and now, he's a pro hero known all over.
He's not Katsuki or Kacchan anymore, he's Dynamite, and everywhere you turned people wanted to take him away from you.
And it worked?
You hadn't heard from Katsuki in over a month. Texts left on read, memes left without even an emoji.
He's busy, you told yourself. Being a pro hero was taking a lot out of him. You couldn't expect much, you had to be supportive. Yet, you couldn't shake the lingering thoughts that grew as more time passed with dead air between you two.
Had he met someone else?
Bringing the glass up to your lips to take a sip, you realized your hands had begun to shake.
As famous as he was now, he had come across many new faces. Fancy galas and expensive dinner parties. Who were you to complete anymore? A small-town friend left long in the shadowed past of his new bright and shiny life.
No. Surely, he respects you enough to have let you know, right?
He's just busy.
Katsuki lets out an explosion bringing the villain down. The scene erupts into cheers. You watch eyes glued to the screen; Katsuki shoves his mask up to his forehead wiping the sweat off his face. Reporters rush to try and get lucky enough to speak to him.
Then it happens.
The universe-altering moment.
It happens fast but you see it in slow motion, every second more painful than the next.
The epitome of a beautiful woman breaks through the crowd, to run and wrap her arms around his neck. Pushing up to her tip toes to press a passionate kiss to his cheek, and he doesn't pull away. He smiles.
A guttural scream that you don't recognize as your own escapes you. Glass flies out of your hand shattering the bar TV.
Whoever she is please, let it be a lie.
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Oh man- this song did a number on me. It’s so painfully beautiful. I hope this fic was somewhat what you had in mind. It’s what came out when I sat down to type so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for this request, I missed writing some angst.
sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @renwei @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @that-one-fangirl69 @pinkpurpledreams
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bluehoodiewoozi · 7 months
Text
Neverending
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Lee Jihoon x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff with little to no plot
Words: 14k
Warnings: crying with references to an argument. a single reference to porn. hatred of philosophy. simp woozi who suffers from anxious perfectionism and self-deprecating thoughts.
[College/University AU] With the help of his friends' advice, Jihoon goes on a quest to become the best boyfriend he can be.
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Note: I wrote this, had a mental break-down, then finished this, and now I'm sharing it with you in the hopes that it'll save you from a mental break-down of your own or perhaps it'll comfort you in some way. Hang in there, y'all!
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It was no secret that Jihoon had little to no experience with romance. His friends often joked that his experience was limited to exactly seven rom-coms and a steamy romance novel from his mother’s bookshelf that he once read in a state of absolute boredom when he was grounded. 
And Jihoon was fine with that. He didn’t complain when he made it through middle school without as much as a peck from a girl (or anyone other than Soonyoung, really – he wasn’t picky). He didn’t as much as blink when it was high school graduation day and he was still as single as that one famous whale in the ocean. He merely shrugged when his friends pitied his forever-single state while he was doing his undergraduate degree. 
It wasn’t until he started working on his master’s degree that he began to feel left out. Maybe a little over 20 years of being single was just his limit, or maybe it was the constant pitying stares of his friends, or perhaps it was his mother’s not-so-subtle hints of wanting grandkids while she could still run with them – either way, Jihoon finally realised that he was lonely even with over ten friends around him.
And maybe it was this realisation that made him view the people around him differently. All of a sudden, couples seemed to surround him wherever he went. The pair of girls he always saw chatting at the café he worked at? Suddenly he was a witness to the kisses they shared in the corner seat. The guy living across the hall from him in the dormitory? Giggling and kicking his feet after his girlfriend fixed his hair as they left for their 8 am class. 
Heck, even Vernon was in a relationship, buying two to-go cups of chai tea from the café every Wednesday, a love-sick smile on his face, before heading to the park to share them with a woman the rest of their friend group could only theorise the identity of. 
If Vernon out of all people could find someone, why couldn’t he?
Then, as if the universe had heard the silent cries of Jihoon’s heart, he met you. 
Assigned to the same semester-long group project, he quickly realised that you were the only person other than him to actually do the work. It started with looks of exasperation shared across the library table the six of you gathered at, and then the two of you had no choice but to start talking. 
Talking – right, that was the first real step. At first about schoolwork – about the research questions of your project, about other courses, about complaints about your professors. Then, barely a week into knowing him, you broke the thin ice.
He could still vividly remember the way you tugged on the sleeve of his jacket just as he was about to walk away after a meeting. You smiled at him – a real smile rather than the tired polite one he had grown so accustomed to – and asked, “So, what kind of movies do you like?”
As soon as he managed to utter the words “I guess… superhero movies?” out of his mouth, you were once again tugging at his sleeve, this time dragging him in the direction of a nearby cinema. You ended up only allowing him to pay for the popcorn (and he had to beg for even that much) because it seemed you were dead-set on treating him like a prince.
That was your first date: after classes, in the darkness of the cinema, with Spiderman swinging by on the giant screen. He barely had any time to pay attention to the plot, too busy relishing in your presence and the sound of your laughter at the corny jokes. And then, as MJ and Peter Parker shared a kiss on the screen, he felt something warm on his hand – your fingers curled around his own and he couldn’t help but give them a squeeze back, his ears as red as Spiderman’s suit. 
The impromptu date was followed by another, then another, and another, until you finally had enough and pulled him to the side after class.
“Do you like me?” you asked him, a little frustrated with how slow things were going and with how awkward he still seemed.
His ears flushed red again. “Of… of course I do.” (He preferred to imagine his voice hadn’t cracked in the middle of the sentence.)
Your scowl remained. “Then be my boyfriend.”
When he nodded, you smiled and took his hand again – he told himself he’d never let yours go. 
But unfortunately, his lack of romantic experience made it difficult to gracefully slip into the role of your boyfriend. He was almost jealous of the way the role of the girlfriend came so easily to you, taking his hand so easily every day, when he spent hours at night contemplating whether he should kiss your forehead or not when you’d part ways on campus the next day. 
On one of those nights, he decided you deserved better. You deserved a better him. 
So, he grabbed his phone and texted the one friend he trusted with his life. 
[i need advice.]
[how can i be a better boyfriend?]
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[YJH: that’s easy! carry her bag for her! girls love that!]
When Jihoon met you on your way to a 12 pm class, he hesitated to follow Jeonghan’s advice. Countless what-ifs floated in his head: what if you thought that it was rude, what if you wanted to carry your own things, what if you tried to carry his bag instead… Did boyfriends outside of fanfiction and romantic movies even carry their girlfriends’ things for them?
Doubts hurried out of his mind soon enough, making way for worry when he saw you adjust the tote bag on your shoulder with a grimace. He inwardly panicked at the sight of your discomfort. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” you wondered as if completely oblivious. 
“Is your bag heavy?” His brows furrowed. Before you could take another step, he slipped the bag off your shoulder and onto his own. Your grimace made sense all of a sudden. His frown deepened, but not because of your confused stare. “What do you have in here? An entire drum set?”
You laughed. “No, just my laptop and some snacks.”
Even as he bounced on his spot to test the weight, his frown remained. He glared at the bag. “Your laptop’s not that heavy.”
Your face scrunched up. “My laptop kind of broke yesterday, so I had to revive the old, heavy one.”
Jihoon’s frown disappeared. He stared up at you in surprise, and then, unable to stop himself, he offered, “Do you want me to take a look at it? Maybe I can fix it.”
“Nah,” you shrugged, “I’ll just take it to get it fixed tomorrow. My friend recommended this shop–”
“Don’t be silly,” he scolded you and continued the journey to class. “You know that the shop will take three weeks to even look at your laptop and then another three to order the necessary parts and then another five to actually fix it. You might graduate before they get it fixed.”
“Yeah?” you laughed, following after him, your hand naturally coming to rest around his own. “And you’re faster?”
“Faster, more reliable, cheaper,” he counted on his fingers before offering you a cheeky grin. When you didn’t seem too convinced, he sighed and added, “You can ask any of my friends and they’ll tell you I can do this. I’ve done this before. I fixed Junhui’s laptop just a few weeks ago; got a 5-star review.”
At that, you sighed. In the few weeks of being his girlfriend, you had learnt that he was as stubborn as he was kind. In fact, he was even more stubborn when he was being kind: you had been a first-hand witness to Jihoon physically pinning Kim Mingyu to the ground to put a bandage on a fresh cut on his cheek, all the while cursing the friend under his breath for not being more careful. You shuddered at what Jihoon might do if you continued to refuse his laptop-fixing offer.
You finally sighed again and nodded. “Should I bring it over to your place?”
“Yeah,” he agreed easily, his lips curling into a victorious smile, “I’m free this weekend so I can probably get it done before finals.”
You grinned at the thought. “If you manage to do that, I will literally marry you. You’re the best.”
He could only pray you wouldn’t mention the way his ears undoubtedly turned red again as he adjusted your bag on his shoulder and led you to your lecture room.
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[YJH: help her do research for her essay] 
Jihoon let out a soft huff as he placed your bag on a seat at the library before gently pulling you to sit in the seat next to it. He let himself fall into the chair across from yours. 
“Thank you!” your chipper voice was almost enough to rid him of the muscle pain your pain caused. 
He offered a smile and a blink so slow you began to wonder if he took you for a cat. “You’re welcome.”
Then, just like a cat himself, he just sat and watched you set up on the desk. His eyes sharply followed every movement you made, sometimes lingering here or there if something particular caught his eye (your oddly fluffy pink pen was one of those particular things). “So, what are you going to be working on?”
You groaned audibly. “Research for this mythology class I’m taking. We’re supposed to make a big wiki as a class effort. Each of us got a different topic to write about. But, like, it’s more of an actual small research paper: citations, references, quotes…” You pouted. “If you weren’t here, I’d be crying by now.”
He didn’t like the sound of that at all – the crying part, because he actually quite enjoyed mythology. Though he hesitated just a little before saying it, he offered, “If you need a hug, just tell me.”
“You’re so cute.” You reached over the table to give him an affectionate pat on his head, effectively both praising him and fixing his windswept mess of hair. “Have you gotten around to fixing my laptop yet?”
Relaxing in his chair, he began, “I’m waiting for a part, but it’s almost fixed otherwise.”
You blinked. “What part?”
“A battery.”
“I don’t think it was a battery issue, though,” you mumbled while avoiding his eyes, not wanting to insult his competence. After all, you were pretty sure the issue was with the graphics – why else would your laptop screen flicker like a rogue disco ball?
As if reading your mind, he chuckled and pulled out his phone to check the package tracking website. “I almost fixed the main issue already, but I noticed that the battery was acting weird, so I figured I might as well fix that too.”
When he looked up from his phone again, you were staring at him with stars in his eyes. His heart thumped a little louder at the sight. “... What?”
You shrugged and turned back to your work. “Nothing.”
He pursed his lips at that and put his phone away again. In his head, he went over all the assignments he had to finish for the following week. Deciding there weren’t any that took priority (a bold lie to himself), he cleared his throat. “So, what do you have to research?”
“Greek mythology.”
“But…” He tilted his head to the side in thought – maybe you wouldn’t want his help? There he went again, he realised: hesitating. He frowned and shook his head clear before smiling at you again. “What exactly?”
“Some mythological creatures. I thought that would be more fun than the usual famous characters.”
“Creatures like… harpies and sirens?”
“Yep.” 
Realising you were already deep in the world of research, he decided to not bother you with any further questions. Instead, he slowly and as quietly as he could (but still louder than he would’ve liked) slid his chair back and headed further into the library. 
“Mythological creatures,” he mumbled to himself as he wandered between the seemingly endless shelves. Before long, he found what he was looking for. He returned to your table barely ten minutes later, placing a heap of books on it before slumping back into his chair with a deep sigh. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him open the first book and flip through the pages like a man on a quest. You smiled at the sight before focusing back on your work. Even so, you heard the scribble of his pencil and the familiar sound of a sticky note getting ripped out of its block. 
Just as you stopped paying attention to him, you felt a book being pushed towards you. When you looked away from your laptop, you found the book you had just seen him read, now laid open on your side of the table, turned to face you. 
Light pink sticky notes between the closed pages and a few on the open ones: the book invited you to read. The notes carried Jihoon’s neat handwriting, retelling the contents of the page. Better yet: these were notes about mythological creatures described in the book: 
‘Chimera. pg 6: Daughter of Typhon and Echidna. pg 18: lion's body and head, snake for a tail, breathes fire?’
When you glanced back at him, smiling brightly, he was already nose-deep in a different book, paying you no attention.
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[Y.JH.: watch a porno together 😉]
Jihoon stared at his friend’s message for a total of five minutes. He then decided that he should stop taking advice from Jeonghan. 
He turned to the group chat for help instead.
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“You’re going to drive yourself insane before finals even start,” he warned you with a fond smile as you flipped through your worksheets, thoroughly checking each and every one to make sure you hadn’t missed anything.
You offered him a tired glare and turned back to your task. “I’m already halfway there, might as well commit.”
[X.MH.: take her on a walk. enjoy the weather.]
Minghao’s suggestion rang in his head as he watched you. After all, he himself often went on ridiculously long walks in the park when he ran into a metaphorical wall with his work and studies, as did many of his friends. Perhaps it would help you too: romance and relaxation in one – a win on two fronts.
“Do you—” He hesitated. Why did he always hesitate? Even he himself was starting to get annoyed by it. He shook his head to clear his mind and fix his hair before trying again, “Do you want to go on a walk?”
You froze. “A walk?”
He hummed. “To clear your mind. Some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not.”
You mulled it over in your head: assignments versus your adorable boyfriend?
“Fine,” you finally huffed, feigning annoyance, “but I’m going to pet every dog I see and you can’t stop me.”
He laughed at the idea, already imagining it in his head, and got up from the floor before extending a hand to help you up as well. “You’d have to try to stop me first. I’m known for attracting random dogs.”
You took his hand and stretched. “I wonder why.”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged and handed you your jacket before shrugging on his own. He tried not to think about how your jackets matched – almost like a couple’s item.
Soon, the two of you were walking side by side in the park, laughing at everything and nothing and Seokmin’s attempt to fit in a kids’ swing that you saw in the passing. 
As always, your hand found Jihoon’s before he could find the courage to seek your affection. Fingers squeezing together, his skin blissfully on fire against yours – he wondered why he never dared to make the first move and reach for your hand. But if he wasn’t the one to initiate, he at least had an excuse to not let you go.
“How come I’m your first girlfriend?” you wondered, searching his face for answers.
He shrugged. “You just are.”
“You really never had anyone else before?” He shook his head. “Not even a fling?” Another shake of his head. “A hook-up?” He blushed and shook his head harder. You frowned in confusion. “How? You’re, like, perfect. Other girls must have swarmed around you like bees around honey.”
“Don’t be silly,” he denied in a hushed voice, avoiding your eyes so he could act like his ears weren’t redder than the late autumn leaves. 
“I know I wanted you to be mine the moment I saw you,” you mumbled with a pout, offended on his behalf. “So, why were you single all this time then?”
Jihoon shrugged once again, his lips in a tight line of awkwardness. “I just wasn’t interested, I guess. Too busy studying.”
“Then,” you hummed in thought before turning to him again, this time eyes shining with mischief, “have you ever kissed anyone before?”
He paled. “I– Uh– Technically…”
“Technically?” you pressed eagerly.
He cleared his throat. “Technically I’ve been kissed by one person.”
“Technically?!” You were scandalised, baffled, puzzled, curious beyond belief. He could only laugh hopelessly as you stopped him and grabbed him by the shoulders to stare at him, your mouth agape. “Who was it? Was she pretty?”
“Pretty?” He grimaced. It was too late to lie now – might as well commit to his honesty streak. “In his own way, I suppose–”
“HIS?!” Your jaw dropped even more as he avoided your eyes. 
“Let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything–”
“No, I need the truth,” you laughed, almost maniacal with both joy and curiosity. You gripped his shoulders, promising to not let him go until you got the answers. “Who was it? Jihoon, you have to tell me.”
He sighed deeply. His head tilted back so he could stare towards the sky, calling for an extraterrestrial life-form to abduct him. He had been doing so great so far… Why did he have to be damn honest with you?
After thirty seconds, he accepted that the aliens hadn’t found his calls appealing enough. He sighed and slumped before you, head lolling forward as he confessed, “Do you know Kwon Soonyoung?”
You burst into laughter, jumping away from him to bounce in joy (Jihoon wondered if maybe the impending sense of finals’ season doom was too much for you) as you repeated, “Kwon Soonyoung? The tiger guy?”
“Of course that’s what you know him for,” he mumbled under his breath, hand reaching up to rub at his eyes so he could avoid eye contact a little longer. “Just so you know, it was nothing serious: he just decided to kiss me on the playground in, like, 6th grade one day.” He sighed deeply at the memory, still unsure how he felt about it after all these years.
But you were too busy giggling to acknowledge his dismay. “On the lips?”
He grimaced. “On the lips.”
“Full on?”
“Full on,” he sighed.
Before he could scold you to not tell anyone else (not that it mattered anyway: Soonyoung had taken it upon himself to share the tale with every person he met anyway), you were in front of him again, still smiling brightly. His scowl melted into a gentle smile at the sight – he sucked at being mad at you.
“Like this?” You leaned forward, placed your hands on his cheeks, and pulled him in for a kiss of your own. 
All of a sudden, Jihoon swore he was floating. He wrapped his arms around your waist to anchor himself as he leaned further into you, unwilling to part from your lips. Even as you attempted to pull away, he chased after your lips, unsatisfied until you melted back into the kiss. 
When he finally ran out of air, you began giggling, a shy glow on your cheeks as you looked at his still-closed eyes. “So?”
“What?” he wondered, slow to open his eyes, and even when he finally did, his eyelids drooped like he was still waking up from the sweetest of dreams. 
“Was the kiss historically accurate?” you joked, leaning closer to brush your nose against his.
He was unable to even laugh. Only a dopey smile appeared on his face as he whispered, “No, it was so much better.”
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[H.JS.: surprise her with flowers]
[i dont know what kind of flowers she likes tho??]
[W.JH.: unless she’s allergic, i dont think it matters]
Despite still being unsure whether the group chat was helpful or just plain useless, Jihoon followed their advice like it was the law. 
Flowers? He could find flowers. Easy. They’re sold almost everywhere. Surely, he could figure out something as simple and universal as flowers. 
Wrong.
The moment he stepped into the flower store, he felt like a five-year-old left unattended in a new city. He hadn’t even realised there were so many options. He gulped. 
“Can I help you?” an oddly familiar voice called out to him and he whipped his head around in search of the speaker. He found Wonwoo staring back at him, his eyes shining with mischief upon recognising his new customer.
Jihoon grimaced. “I– Nevermind.” 
But when he tried to leave, Wonwoo grabbed him by the hood of his white sweatshirt and dragged him further into the store. “Are you going to buy your girlfriend flowers? Like Joshua suggested?”
“I– No– Why would I–” Jihoon’s resolve broke under Wonwoo’s knowing glare. He lowered his gaze to the floor and sheepishly nodded. 
Wonwoo let out a small sound of victory before asking, “So, what kind of flowers do you want to get her?”
“That’s the thing,” Jihoon sighed deeply, “I have no clue what to get.”
His florist friend hummed in understanding. “Is she more of a daisy or a rose girl?”
Jihoon offered him a confused look. “How am I supposed to know? I’ve only dated her for a month.”
“Roses may be a bit much then,” Wonwoo concluded with a squint of his eyes before heading somewhere in the store, once again grabbing Jihoon by the hood and dragging him along. 
Jihoon could only whine quietly in protest. “Can you stop doing that?”
“No.” The answer was plain, clear, and left no room for argument. “I think tulips are the way to go.”
Jihoon had no further complaints as Wonwoo began piling flowers into his arms. Once he was satisfied, he led Jihoon to the counter – by the hood, once again, as if he was a cat mom carrying her kitten – and began arranging them into a bouquet. 
“Do you want me to tie a bow for them?” he asked but Jihoon gave him no answer.  When he looked up again, his love-sick friend was staring at the newly-complete bouquet in awe.  Wonwoo smiled and handed him the flowers. “There. Do you think she’ll like them?”
“I– How did you know… ?”
Wonwoo’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Was I right?”
Jihoon could only nod before fishing his wallet out. “I seriously owe you one. You’re good at this.”
On the way to your dorm, he couldn’t stop staring at the bouquet. The tulips were exactly the colours he associated with you, as if Wonwoo had read his mind and translated it into flowers. Now he could only adjust them a little and pray you’d like them as much as he did.
A deep breath. A soft knock on your door. 
Your roommate opened the door, her eyes lighting up with excitement upon recognising him and noticing the flowers in his arms. She practically dragged him inside while calling out to you, “(Y/n), your Prince Charming arrived!”
Before he could say anything, she patted his shoulder and leaned over to whisper “She’ll love them” before all but bouncing out the front door, offering him one last cheeky wink before she left. 
“Jihoon?” he then heard you call out from a distance. “Is that you?”
He called back a confirmation before following your voice to your room. Just as he often did, he found you seated on your bed, your (newly fixed) laptop in front of you, surrounded by endless pages of homework and research. He smiled at the familiar sight.
“Are you busy studying again?” he wondered, his voice impossibly soft just like his heart was for you. “Should I come back later?”
Without looking up, you shook your head. “No, no, please stay. I just have to finish this table and then–” Your gaze lifted to meet his by habit, at which point your jaw dropped. Soon, a smile forced itself onto your face. “Jihoon!”
He feigned ignorance, his lips quirking. “Why?”
“Did you–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, unable to find the words as tears of joy gathered in the corners of your eyes. Pursing your lips to will yourself to not cry, you got up from the bed and walked over to hug him. You held him tight while he just laughed fondly. 
“Why?” he asked again, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek. 
You pouted. “You got me flowers?”
When you stepped back, he lifted up the bouquet and asked, “What? This?” You nodded and he laughed again, so completely endeared by your reaction. “Do you like them that much?”
“I love them,” you said and took the flowers from his hands, already rushing to the kitchen to fill a vase with flowers. Despite not leaving your room, he could hear you mumbling, “Oh my god, you’re really going to make me cry at this rate.”
Upon returning with a vase full of water and beautiful flowers, you placed it on your desk by the window. The afternoon light hit them just right and it made you want to cry even more. 
You turned to him again. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers like this before. They’re so pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you,” he spoke before his mental filter could catch it. He bit down on his tongue the moment he closed his mouth, unable to believe he let the words slip without even thinking about them. 
To his relief, you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the carelessly spoken compliment made you glow even more. You laughed in joy and pulled him to sit with you on the bed. He could barely find his balance on the soft mattress before your lips were on his. 
He decided he’d gift you flowers more often if this was the thanks he earned.
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On a sleepless night, Jihoon came to an embarrassing realisation: he had never once initiated a kiss with you. In fact, when it came to physical affection, he hadn’t initiated anything. 
The realisation was greatly aided by Boo Seungkwan’s 2 am reply to another one of Jihoon’s cries for help. 
[B.SK.: kiss her, you idiot!]
“Kiss her?” Jihoon re-read the message the next day before grimacing in anxiety. He couldn’t even hold your hand without blushing – how was he supposed to initiate a whole kiss? Knowing him, he’d probably accidentally end up kissing your nose or, even worse, ear. The thought made him want to cry so he curled up on a random beanbag on campus, hugging his backpack to his chest, and glared at the message Seungkwan had sent him. 
“Who made my Jihoon upset?” your voice carried through the hallway. He looked up to find you walking towards him, a bright smile on your face. Catching his gaze, you smiled brighter before adding to your joke, “Should I go beat someone up? Who was it? Mingyu? Soonyoung?”
“Seungkwan,” he mumbled against the fabric of his bag as you approached him and pressed a kiss to his temple. He could practically feel his ears betraying him and squeezed his eyes shut to will the blush to leave. 
Your hand found his hair, stroking it gently. “Seungkwan? The guy who hosts almost every campus event?” He nodded solemnly and you scoffed. “I can take Seungkwan. He should be afraid of me.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought, opening his eyes to glance up at you. He didn’t dare to move with the way you were still stroking his dark hair, looking at him so fondly. What if you were startled by his movement and never played with his hair again? No, he couldn’t risk it. He closed his eyes again, enjoying the feeling. 
Without even realising it, he leaned into your embrace like a pet looking for warmth. Soon, his head rested against your chest, your fingers still in his hair while his own curled into the fabric of your blouse. He wished this moment lasted forever and then some more. 
“So, what did Seungkwan do that you’re like this?” you wondered and he felt the rumble of your voice. He suddenly found he liked it even better this way. 
With a small smile on his face, he whispered, “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” you wondered. “He must’ve done something.”
“He’s just annoying.” If it hadn’t been for your questions, Jihoon would’ve fallen asleep right there, pressed against you like a tired child. But instead, he came to an annoying realisation. “Do you not have a jacket today?”
“Nope,” he heard you reply.
He hissed at that, gently slapping your side as punishment for crimes against yourself. “It’s cold outside.”
“I run hot,” you made an excuse.
He scoffed. “You whined you were cold the last time you came to my dorm, even though it’s only, like, two degrees colder there than yours.”
You stayed silent at that. He basked in your warmth for a little longer before sitting back up straight and glaring at you. He then fidgeted with the sleeves of your blouse for a moment before scoffing and standing up to pull off his black hoodie. Unceremoniously, he shoved it to you, paying no mind to the puzzled look on your face.
“Put it on,” he finally told you when you made no move to read his mind. “I won’t baby you if you get sick.”
“I won’t get sick–” you began to protest only for him to roll his eyes, grab the hoodie, and pull it over your head himself. 
His hands gently guided your own through the sleeves before reaching down to pull the rest of the hoodie down as much as he could. (He made a mental note to invest in a longer hoodie for next time.) As a final touch, he reached up to pull the hood over your head, tying the strings into a neat bow below your chin once he had pulled the fabric around your head – tight enough to make you look just a little bit goofy. 
Surprised by his actions, you were frozen in place in front of him. With your cheeks squished by the fabric, you looked just so damn adorable. Jihoon didn’t even think before leaning closer and pressing his lips against your slightly pouted ones. 
He pulled away, nodded and smiled – satisfied with his handiwork. The realisation of his actions wouldn’t hit him for another hour.
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[W.JH.: i heard her class is having a big seminar this wednesday. maybe you should cheer for her?]
[how would i do that…?]
Jihoon never received a reply to his question. Odd, and incredibly annoying. But he guessed it was only fair: his friends couldn’t give him all the answers. Some things he’d have to figure out himself. 
Just as he was contemplating on what to do, his phone buzzed. Hoping for a late reply from his friends, he immediately reached for his phone. To his surprise, it was a message from you instead:
[Y/N: if u never hear from me again, assume i had a heart attack in front of the classroom]
[Y/N: god, i hate seminars so much]
Jihoon paused. Is this what Junhui had meant? He took a deep breath and typed a reply.
[where are you? i’ll come to you.]
He was halfway out of the building by the time you answered.
[Y/N: linguistics building, seminar 321]
Despite never having been to the linguistics’ building before and having close to zero clue where he would even find this room, he ran to where you said you’d be. His lungs were burning from lack of air by the time he got to you and yet his heart ached even more than they did: all it took was one look at your shaky hands as you paced back and forth outside of the seminar room. 
“Are you… Are you okay?” he asked through his laboured breaths once he reached you, his hand immediately reaching for yours to ease the shaking. 
You sighed in relief at the sight of him. “Jihoon…”
“I’m here,” he whispered with an encouraging smile before letting you burrow into his embrace. On most days, he would have much rather dug a hole and crawled in there than let anyone show him this kind of affection in public. But he was willing to make an exception for you.
Then he spotted the familiar baffled face of Soonyoung from the corner of his eyes and cringed: he would never live this down.
“I’m so nervous about my presentation,” you whispered into his jacket and all of his attention was back on you as if by magic. 
He scoffed out a laugh, unable to believe your words. “Are you kidding? You’ll be great.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen you give presentations before,” he reminded you with a gentle pat on your head. “You did great the last time, I doubt this time will be different.”
You wanted to cry at the memory, completely unable to see it the way he did. “I stuttered the entire time and mixed up the slides.”
“Yeah, but it was still fine.”
“It was so embarrassing.”
“It was endearing,” he argued immediately. “Besides, you laughed it off and you still got the maximum grade. Sometimes mistakes happen, but that doesn’t mean they’ll be the end of the world.”
You leaned out of his embrace to chuckle hopelessly. “I can’t decide if you’re really good or really bad at giving motivational speeches.”
“But do you feel better?” You nodded and he grinned brightly. “Then that’s all you need. Now go on in and show them what they’re missing in— What class is this?”
“Environmental Anthropology,” you answered with a sigh and he grimaced: it sounded far from appealing and he didn’t even dare ask if it was an elective or a mandatory subject.
Deciding to just go with it, he forced on a smile (his eyebrows still high on his forehead as half of his brain tried to figure out what that course even dealt with) and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Go get them, tiger.”
You laughed at his expression and nodded, feeling a little better already. You turned to head into class, but turned on your heel at the last moment, catching his eyes. He raised a single brow in question and you asked, “Can we go out to eat after this?”
He frowned, eyes saddening. “I wish I could. I have work in an hour. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.”
However, he could never stand the look of disappointment that grazed your face every once in a while. And when it made an appearance once again, he wanted nothing more than to comfort you. “But,” he started and you seemed to lighten up already, “you could come to the café and hang out with me there. My treat,” he promised before pointing an accusatory finger at you, “but only if you ace that presentation.”
“I… I can do that,” you nodded, more to convince yourself than him. “Yeah. I can definitely do that.”
Jihoon spent the next two hours panicking on your behalf. 
Even as he took orders and made cup after cup after cup of coffee, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He couldn’t help but feel like he could’ve done more to boost your confidence. Hell, who wants to hear they were ‘endearing’ during a presentation they felt like they messed up on? 
When the third hour of waiting began, he was half-sure you wouldn’t come to the café. Perhaps you had failed miserably or maybe you really did have a heart attack in front of the classroom. Jihoon was on the verge of spiralling.
“Okay, you’re going to burn your hand at this rate,” Seokmin scolded before ushering him away from the espresso machine. “Just man the register. I’ll deal with the coffee. God, what’s up with you today?”
Jihoon let out a soft whine of protest but followed the orders, waddling over to the register. It was a slow day and he was still messing up – what were you doing to him?
“So?” Seokmin asked again after delivering a customer’s flat white. 
“What?” Jihoon was barely even paying attention to the fact that he was being spoken to. His eyes were constantly stuck on the door. 
Any moment now. Any moment you’d walk in, a smile on your face, telling him you passed. Any moment.
Seokmin raised a brow. “What’s bothering you? Seriously, you’re not usually this aloof. Why are you staring at the door?”
“(Y/n)” was all Jihoon managed to mumble.
But it was enough for his friend. Seokmin laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”
“What if she isn’t?” Jihoon whispered, still stuck in a dazed mix of anxiety and hope. “What if I messed up?”
Before Seokmin could even begin to comfort him, Jihoon felt like he could breathe again. There you were, practically running towards the café in your rush to get to him. He didn’t even realise he was leaning further and further towards the door, leaning against the countertop under Seokmin’s amused eyes. 
“Jihoon!” you called out once you made it to the café, dashing up the counter to pull his face to yours and press your lips against his. After pulling away again, you smiled brightly. “Guess what?”
He forgot all the vocabulary he had acquired over his life. Your name was the closest thing to a word in there. He was just glad to see you again.
You rolled your eyes at his silence but still laughed. “Jihoon, I told you to guess.”
He cleared his throat and prayed his ears weren’t too red before he found his voice. “You passed?”
“I passed,” you confirmed with an excited fist pump in the air, “and the professor said I had the best presentation in the whole course.”
“Whoa, go, girl!” Seokmin cheered, bumping his fist against yours in celebration.
Jihoon matched your bright smiles and told you, “I knew you could do it. Come on, pick what you want to eat. My treat.”
As you excitedly went to check out the cake options, Seokmin stared at him in awe. Jihoon shrugged. “What?”
“How come you never treat me?” his friend sounded almost offended.
“You never asked.”
Seokmin frowned and turned to you. “Did you ask him to treat you?”
“Nope.”
He turned to glare at Jihoon again. “Favouritism. Clear favouritism. I’ll remember this.”
“She’s my girlfriend,” Jihoon argued with a puzzled frown of his own.
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[W.JH.: tie her shoelaces]
Walks in the park or even just around the campus became a routine for the two of you very quickly. More often than not, your shared study sessions in the library would lead to a shared knowing look, standing up in silence, and heading out the door for a break. Always hand-in-hand, like puzzle pieces.
The weather was windier than usual that day, blowing dead leaves and hats around the park grounds. Who knows how long it would be before snow would join the items flying in the wind – the temperature of the air certainly suggested it would happen soon. 
Jihoon barely managed to catch your scarf before it fell victim to the wind. 
“Maybe not the best day for a walk,” he concluded with a sheepish laugh while wrapping the scarf around your neck a little tighter than before, making sure it wouldn’t fly again. 
You laughed along. “Yeah, maybe we should’ve gone to the café instead.”
He sighed deeply – as a joke – before narrowing his eyes at you. “Just say you’re dating me for café discounts. Admit it.”
“Well,” you hummed, “your staff discounts are definitely a bonus.”
He chuckled and nudged your side. “Do you want to go to the café then? Maybe some cocoa could warm you up.”
“But some fresh air might be good for you. Resets your brain and what-not,” you repeated his own words back to him with a mischievous smile.
“Is that–?” His jaw dropped. “How do you even remember that?”
“It was a very memorable quote by my favourite author,” you joked and pinched his cheek before grabbing his hand to lead him to the café.
You barely made it two steps before he was tugging you to a stop, his gaze lowered. You blinked. “Did something happen?” 
He didn’t reply. A message from Junhui flashed in his mind. Was he allowed to follow his advice like that? And if so, what was the best way to go about it? Crouching down? Leading you to a bench and making you lift your foot? Fully kneeling in front of you like the simp he was? 
Ears burning under your questioning stare, he finally leaned down onto one knee, his fingers reaching for your shoelaces. 
Your heart skipped a beat as realisation hit. 
With what you could only assume was practised grace (because who knows how many times he had repeated this exact gesture for his friends – Soonyoung alone must have accounted for at least twenty), he gently pulled your foot closer to himself and gently double-knotted the laces. He decided to re-do the other shoe as well if he was already on task. 
Once both shoes were undoubtedly tied and unable to come undone without permission again, he hummed in approval and stood back up, brushing the dirt off his knee before his gaze lifted to meet yours. He offered a sheepish smile at the dazed look on your face. 
“Why?” he laughed.
“You’re seriously–” you began but never finished, reaching for his hand instead. 
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[K.MG.: give her a nickname]
Jihoon wasn’t very fond of nicknames. He wasn’t like Jeonghan who could come up with a new dumb nickname for every person he met or like Soonyoung who could react to any nickname thrown his way. Jihoon was just Jihoon and his friends were just his friends – no nicknames needed.
So, when he read Mingyu’s message, he froze. A nickname for his girlfriend? It felt like such an enormous task.
Stuck in an endless loop of processing even weeks after, Jihoon still couldn’t come up with a nickname that felt like you. Nothing sounded quite as pretty or as melodious as your name. Nothing came even close in his mind. When he thought of you, it was always just (Y/n). 
And it wasn’t like you had given him a nickname either. He would’ve noticed if you had – he noticed everything you did. 
If anyone saw into his brain, they would’ve seen a suspicious number of facts and quirks of yours. They would’ve thought he was a spy trying to steal your identity. But he was nothing of the sort. The only thing he aimed to steal was your heart (and maybe a kiss, or two, or two hundred).
Frankly, Vernon was sick of the sound of Jihoon’s pen rolling back and forth, struggling between gravity and Jihoon’s strength, on the slanted desk of their shared room. If having to contemplate cheesy pet names with a distraught Jihoon was the answer, Vernon was willing to sacrifice a bit of his sanity for a different background audio. 
“Maybe see if a pet name would work,” he suggested upon seeing his misery. 
Jihoon blinked. “Pet name? Like Fluffy?”
“No, like–” Vernon’s brows furrowed. “Dude, are you okay? Should I call a doctor?”
Jihoon only groaned and slumped over his desk, fully resting his cheek against it now. 
“I meant nicknames like babe and sweetheart and the sort,” his roommate explained, brows still set in a concerned frown. “Why would you call her Fluffy?”
“At this rate, I might as well.”
Vernon was scandalised. “Call her Fluffy?!”
Jihoon sat up straight to frown at Vernon. “No, see if I find a pet name I like for her. What is wrong with you?”
“You started it!”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So, what do you have to offer?”
“Let’s start with the basics,” Vernon suggested, leaning back on his bed happily now that the pen was no longer obnoxiously rolling. “Babe?”
“Gross.”
“Baby?” 
“Even worse.”
“Sweetheart.”
Jihoon hesitated. “I– Maybe? Let’s put that under maybe.”
“Great! That’s progress,” Vernon cheered with a smile before resuming his position. “Then, what about dear?”
“Sounds so old-fashioned. I don’t want to sound like an English grandma whenever I call for my girlfriend.”
Vernon froze before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you definitely have a point there.”
They were both tired of the guessing game by the time fifteen minutes passed. They bid each other farewell and headed their separate ways. It was only noon.
The solution? Non-existent. Jihoon still didn’t know what to call you.
And to add to his problems, he soon realised he hadn’t heard from you all day. Your chat was no more full than the previous evening, his call history was even worse off. He hadn’t even seen you on campus. 
Worry got the worst of him and now he was taking the first step instead of you. His worry won over his hesitation and he called you, lifting his phone to his ear all the while glancing around campus anxiously.
You didn’t pick up the first call. Nor the second. Before pressing on the screen to call a third time, he silently swore he’d run through all of your usual spots if you left him hanging like this. Heck, he might even call the police.
“Jihoon?” he then heard your voice through the phone and a stone fell off his heart.
He sighed in relief. “(Y/n), are you okay? I was worried.”
“Dorm,” you whispered meekly into the mic, elaborating no further no matter how much he prompted you. 
His frown only grew with every passing moment of silence on your part. “Do you want me to come over?”
“Please,” you whispered once again and then he heard the most heart-breaking sound: a soft sob. You were crying. 
He cursed under his breath. You were crying and he wasn’t there. “Hold on a little longer, I’ll be there.”
He wasted not a second more and sprinted to your dormitory. With his hands shaking from both worry and exhaustion, it took him two tries to get the door code right, but once the door clicked open, he dashed up the stairs and to your room. 
The door of your room was unlocked and ajar when he arrived and he just about fell through it in an attempt to lean against it for a quick breath. He stumbled into your room and his heart dropped some more, so close to shattering.
“(Y/n), darling,” he whispered before practically throwing himself into the spot next to you, already pulling you into his embrace, “what happened?”
You didn’t say anything, quietly crying into his sweater instead. Jihoon almost wanted to cry with you. “Talk to me. What happened? What can I do to make it better?”
“I fought with my roommate,” you whispered eventually. “I might have to move out.”
“Move out?” he wondered. “Was it that bad?” You didn’t answer, only letting out another soft sob as you further burrowed into his arms. He sighed. “Oh, darling.”
You remained in his arms for a while, stuck between crying over a lost friendship and relishing in his comfort. “I thought she was my friend. God, I’m so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid,” he protested immediately, perhaps even a little too forcefully for your fragile emotional state. He sighed once again, deeper, before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to help you find a new place to stay?”
“I could just ask to be assigned to a different dorm,” you mumbled. “It’s no big deal.”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to get your own apartment though?”
“I mean… It would be nice.”
“I can help you pay the deposit,” he offered. He wasn’t sure if he was always this kind or if seeing you so broken made him overcompensate more than usual – come to think of it: there was clearly a pattern forming.
Either way – he mentally ran over the numbers in his bank account –, he could afford to help. 
You sighed. “You don’t have to, Jihoon, it’s fine–”
“Don’t argue with me,” he warned half-jokingly. “Do you want to get your own place or not?”
Still leaning into his chest, you looked up at him. “You’d– You’d do that?”
“Of course,” he shrugged as if he had only offered you a candy bar. “Besides, if you get your own place, I benefit too.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Vernon not letting you sleep in again?”
“I’ve never wanted to strangle someone so bad,” he whispered while squeezing his eyes shut. “And he’s so messy. I need a break every once in a while.”
“So, your only condition is that I let you sleep over?” you chuckled and kissed his cheek which promptly turned red. “Why not just move in with me then?”
He blushed harder. “I think it’s too early for that. Maybe in a few months.”
You pouted at that. “You’re so mean. I was so ready to celebrate moving in with my boyfriend. Tsk.”
“Give me a few months,” he whispered – promised. “I’ll be with you in just a few months, darling.”
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[J. WW.: take her on a picnic in the park during your free period. i hear the cherry trees are blossoming.]
Sandwiches, cake from the café, a thermos full of your favourite tea, a blanket – was anything missing? Well, other than his courage, because he had been staring at the basket for at least half an hour now as if his feet were nailed to the kitchen floor. 
Even Vernon, as patient as he was, had begun to contemplate how to unglue Jihoon so he could freely access the fridge again. 
“Dude,” he finally sighed, “can you move? I’m hungry.”
“There’s food on the stove,” Jihoon mumbled off-handedly, still in a panicked daze. Vernon glanced towards the stove and found nothing on it. 
Why was he so panicked anyway? It was one thing to hesitate before kissing you, but this? This was worse. He was paralysed by fear and he didn’t even understand why.
It’s not like this was your first date.
“Have you never taken a girl out on a date before?” Vernon wondered, brows furrowing as he attempted to make sure his roommate hadn’t been replaced by a faulty android or a hologram.
And just as the words left Vernon’s mouth, Jihoon seemed to wake up. His eyes widened. “I’ve never taken a girl out on a date before.”
Vernon blinked. “You’ve been dating her since, like, fall.”
“Yeah, but she initiated everything,” Jihoon whined, suddenly hyper aware of the way his knees felt like jelly and his hands trembled. 
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
“First date?”
“She took me to the movies.”
“First kiss?” 
“She went in first.”
“Who asked the other one out?”
“She asked me.” Jihoon let out another whine. “God, I’m so bad at this whole boyfriend thing. Isn’t there, like, a manual or something?”
“If there is, you’d probably be better off,” Vernon pointed out with a chuckle. “Dude, if she’s stuck with you this long, then she’s not going to break up with you over you taking her on a picnic.”
“But what if she’s actually busy or it rains or–”
“What’s with you and all those what-ifs? Just get out there, take her hand and have a picnic.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Jihoon whispered and hung his head in shame.
“Because it is that easy.”
It was not, in fact, that easy. Jihoon tripped almost three times just on the way to meet you at the park – that’s how nervous he was. And it’s not like he was afraid of you or your reaction. 
He just wanted everything to be perfect. Because you were perfect. And if he couldn’t be perfect with or for you, what was even the point?
Still, even as his nerves threatened to make him throw up in a nearby garbage can, he braved through the anxiety and made his way over to you. He forced on a smile as he approached you, but it soon melted into a genuine one upon seeing your excited grin.
“Hi, darling,” he whispered before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Did you have a good day?”
“It’s barely afternoon,” you joked. Jihoon grimaced: first strike. Two more and he’d pay someone to throw him off a bridge. (He noted that Seungcheol or Joshua seemed like a good choice for that.)
“So,” you rubbed your palms together after helping him set the blanket on the ground, “what are we eating?”
He breathed out shakily before opening the basket. “So… there’s sandwiches – I didn’t know which ones you’d like more so I made a bunch of everything, but if you don’t like any, I’ll run to the store and–”
“Jihoon,” you stopped him with a stern smile and a pat on his cheek – strike two –, “baby, stop acting like it’s the first time we’ve interacted. There’s no need to be shy with me. I love you regardless.”
“I’m sorry, I just–”
“Stop apologising.” Strike three – might as well decide on a bridge now.
“I just want everything to be perfect for you,” he admitted with a sad smile, “but I guess I get too in my own head about it and then–”
You leaned forward and kissed him before he could go any further. When you leaned back, his eyes were wide in disbelief. 
“You– Why did you do that?”
“You were rambling too much.” You smiled at him again, sweeter this time, before kissing him once more. “Everything is perfect already. This picnic is perfect. The weather is perfect. This moment is perfect. You’re perfect. Don’t worry so much. Just breathe and enjoy.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours once again: a gift because you always knew exactly what to say.
“So,” your smile never seemed to fade, “can you stop worrying about everything now?”
He breathed out a defeated sigh and nodded, earning a cheer from you. 
As the two of you began eating, he made conversation, “So, how’s your apartment search going?”
You shrugged. “I’ve found two places. I’m going to see the second one tomorrow, but the first one is very nice. Like, way too nice for that price.”
“And that’s bad somehow?” He laughed.
“It’s way below market rate. It’s too good to be true,” you told him with a soft sigh, closing your eyes as he mindlessly reached to play with your fingers. “I wonder what the quirk is. Like, why is it so cheap? The landlord seemed like a sweet woman and all, but there’s bound to be something weird about that place, right?”
“Maybe it’s haunted,” he joked, making a ‘scary’ face as he stared at you, only to prompt a laugh. 
“Will you come and save me if it is?”
He grimaced. “Hell no. Ghosts are scary business. You’d have to find a different boyfriend.”
“Fine, fine,” you laughed and patted his cheek, “leave all the saving to me instead, then. I’ll protect you.”
“My hero,” he swooned, a hand over his heart. 
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You stared at the ceiling of your new bedroom, practically vibrating with anxiety about the day to come as well as the added responsibilities of adulting outside of a dorm. 
Jihoon, having agreed to stay a few nights for mental support (and a Marvel movie marathon), gave you a weird look.
“Sorry,” you apologised and willed your body to stay still, sure you had annoyed your boyfriend into leaving, “I guess I’m just more nervous about tomorrow than I thought.”
“I think you’re overthinking this,” he chuckled and leaned over to brush a stray hair off your forehead. “It’s just a seminar. You’ve been to those before.”
“Yeah, but this one’s in a foreign language,” you whined and rolled over to hide your face in his chest. “You know my French sucks.”
He scoffed but was thoroughly amused. “I’ve never even heard you speak French.”
“Exactly. Point proven. Now let me suffer in peace.”
Jihoon sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your head. “Is there any way I can help you feel better?”
You shook your head ‘no’ and burrowed further into the comforting darkness his sweater provided. You had no interest in being comforted – what you needed was to go to sleep before 3 am and not wake up with nightmares. Unfortunately, Jihoon couldn’t do that for you, as amazing as he was.
He was just as stumped, but less in the mood to give up. In fact, he was rarely in the mood to give up. 
Still feeling you shaking in his arms, he reached his free hand to get his phone and text the group chat once again, begging for help as he had done so many times before. The help came faster than ever before, as if his friends had a shared 7th sense for Jihoon’s girlfriend troubles.
[C.VN.: bro, arent u good at singing? have u sung to her?]
[but… what do i sing?]
[K.SY.: a song.]
[whaT SONG?]
[X.MH.: you’re literally a music major, i’m sure you can think of a song or two??]
[i’m a uni student, not a jukebox??]
With sleep still unwilling to claim you, you sighed deeply. There was no room to further burrow into your boyfriend’s comforting embrace. An idea hit: maybe a cup of nice peppermint tea could calm you down. 
“Ji, can we go make–” you quietly began but were interrupted by a soft rumbling of his chest. And then you heard it: he was humming. You lifted your head to watch him, unable to tear your eyes from the way his lips oh-so-gracefully parted to sing to you, even as he was still searching for the lyrics on his phone.
Suddenly realising you had said something, he paused, eyes widening as he looked at you. “Sorry, did you say something?”
You shook your head no and continued staring at him. 
Awkward under you gaze, his ears flushed red. He avoided your eyes and turned back to his phone, scrolling through it as a distraction: ads had never looked so interesting before.
“Keep singing,” you whispered to him, hoping he’d hear your plea and fulfil your wish.
He took a deep breath, his hand freezing on the tiny screen. And just as you had hoped, his lips parted again. This time, he really sang, lyrics and all. His voice carried through your room, echoing back from the yet-to-be-decorated walls and filling the space in a comforting manner.
As you listened to him, you realised he had never sung to you before. He had hidden this part of himself for so long. And yet you were already enamoured with it. 
When he finished one song, his lips pursed back together and he hummed a mysterious melody that you could only suspect he had come up with on the spot to fill the silence. Then he began a second song, then a third.
By the fifth song, you were blissfully unaware of your daily troubles and the seminar waiting for you at 10 am. You were deep asleep in his arms, feeling the safest you ever had.
Upon realising you had finally succumbed to the call of dreamland, Jihoon chuckled and locked his phone. His newly free hand reached to stroke your cheek. 
“Little Miss Can’t Fall Asleep falls asleep a lot easier than she claims,” he joked to noone in particular and craned his neck to press another kiss to your temple before settling back down and closing his own eyes. 
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[S.SC.: go shopping with her. i’m sure she needs some things for her new place. she might appreciate the company.]
“I still don’t understand how you don’t have a car,” you started up the topic for the third time this hour. 
Jihoon had never considered you annoying before – not even to the mildest extent – but he was slowly starting to get annoyed. He sighed. “Getting a licence seems like such a hassle.”
“It’s freeing,” you argued, amused by your new-found ability to annoy him even the tiniest bit. “You don’t depend on public transportation or your friends anymore. It’s great.”
“I can get everywhere on foot just fine.” He rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to cover your mouth as you began to speak again. “Didn’t you say you needed new towels? I’m pretty sure we walked straight past those.”
Unable to form proper words under the weight of his hand, you just hummed and let him lead you back to the towel aisle. It was only once you were there that he removed his hand again, wiping it against his hoodie. “Why do you need new towels anyway? It’s not like the ones you’ve used so far are contaminated.”
“It’s the principle, Jihoon,” you told him while scanning through the options. “New place, new me – that type of deal.”
“Sounds like a trick of capitalism,” he joked and leaned his torso forward against the shopping cart you had already half-filled with baskets, blankets, cushions and pillows of all shapes and sizes. 
You turned to glare at him. “Are you my boyfriend or my financial advisor?”
“Both, if you pay me well enough.”
“Whatever. What colour towels should I get?”
He shrugged. “I’m a big fan of the colour black.”
You sighed. “That’s so boring. How about blue?”
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes in thought. “I could be persuaded.”
“I’m taking that as a yes,” you sang and picked up two of the larger fluffy blue towels – one lighter and the other darker in shade. You barely managed to fit them in the cart before your eyes lit up with a new quest in sight. “Oh, we need slippers too.”
He only hummed and swiftly (or as swiftly as one can move a shopping cart that clearly has never been maintained in the 10 years it's been in use) manoeuvred the cart to follow after you. Once he finally found you in the footwear aisle, he was confronted by two pairs of slippers – one black, the other baby pink – in his face. He tilted his head to offer you a confused look.
Without any malice behind it, you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Pick a colour.”
“Black.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I know you’re waiting for me to tell you ‘pink’ and I’m not giving you nor Mingyu that satisfaction,” he countered before nodding towards his colour of choice again. “Black.”
“Fine,” you sighed in defeat and placed the pink ones back, only to pick up a different size of the same colour and place it in the cart. 
His eyebrows rose. “What are you–?”
“What size slippers do you wear?” 
“Me?” He frowned. “Why would my opinion on any of this matter? It’s your apartment. Why are you making me choose the colour of the towels and the shower curtain and the–” 
He fell silent, his mouth still ajar in wordless awe as the realisation hit. You tried your hardest to act cool under his disbelieving stare.
“I– I’m not moving in with you,” he whispered, his eyes softening as he reached for your arm as if to comfort you. “We talked about this. I still need some time.”
“I’m not asking you to move in yet,” you laughed sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. “I just thought it would be nice if you could visit without worrying about bringing your things. You’re my boyfriend. I just want you to be comfortable when you come over to stay the night or when you don’t feel like going back to your and Vernon’s place after a long day and–”
Your words faded to the background as he continued staring at you. He was so used to being the one full of hesitation, overthinking his actions, trying to act nonchalant when he finally committed. Seeing you do the same? His heart grew two sizes larger and suddenly he couldn’t contain himself. 
Without thinking about it, he pulled you into a hug, effectively silencing your doubts and rambled justifications just like you had done for him so many times before. 
“You should’ve just said so, silly,” he laughed and held you even tighter.
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[C.VN.: u know, i heard study dates are popular with the girls]
[you’re just trying to get me out of the dorm, aren't you?]
[C.VN.: u cant prove anything]
Sitting across from him in the living room, you watched in silence as Jihoon tapped away at his keyboard. His fingers seemed to fly across the keys at the speed of light, typing out a word and then deleting it. He did so a thousand times before huffing out a sigh and leaning his head back to glare at the ceiling.
“Have you tried taking a break?” you asked him softly, wanting not to scare or irritate him.
His head lolled back to a normal position and he offered an unamused raise of his brows. “Have you seen me take any breaks?”
You grimaced. “Then maybe it’s time to take a break now.”
“Sorry, darling,” he sighed and shook his head, “I need this essay finished by midnight. I’ve been putting this off for too long as it is.”
 You glanced at the clock. “Midnight’s still 10 hours away though. You have time to take a break.”
He rolled his eyes and glared at his laptop screen. A blank page with only the title ‘Western Philosophy 101 Final Essay’ mocked him. “A break from what? I haven’t even done anything.”
“You’ve been thinking hard.”
“Darling, I don’t think you understand how essay-writing works. There’s no use in thinking if no writing comes out of it.”
You reached over to take his hands off the keyboard. His fingers instinctively wrapped around yours, squeezing them just enough to comfort the both of you. “Writing will come out of it if you just relax and just take a break, I promise.”
Jihoon wanted to argue, he really did. But then he looked up from the screen and into your eyes, tempting him to just agree. And while he wasn’t one to give up easily, he was definitely someone who wanted fulfil every wish his loved-ones ever made.
And so, he gave up this time. Defeated, he slumped his shoulders and sighed. “Alright, what do you have in mind?”
“How long do you have?” you asked, feeling mischievous all of a sudden. 
He glanced at his watch before shrugging. “An hour, maybe.”
That was all you needed to pull him towards yourself by the hands. He stumbled a little, just about falling into your lap with a whine of protest before settling exactly where he landed, too tired to care further. His eyes fell closed the moment he felt your warmth against himself.
Without even thinking about it, you reached down to play with his hair. The silky strands ran through your fingers with ease and Jihoon could only hum in appreciation at the gesture. While this wasn’t the cuddle position you had had in mind, you couldn’t say no to the rare chance to dote on your otherwise independent boyfriend.
“This is nice,” he sighed softly and nuzzled his face against your belly, happy to hide from his horrible philosophy final. He lazily opened one eye to look at you, admiring you with the same love as you did him. “We should do this more often.”
“I would love to,” you told him with a sweet laugh and he was glad that he was lying down because his knees felt a little weak all of a sudden. “See, I told you you needed a break.”
He hummed in agreement, closing his eye again. “I feel like I might fall asleep though. And then who will finish my essay? You?”
“How about I just wake you up in, like, 40 minutes instead?” you offered.
With a cheerful giggle, he hid his face further into the fabric of your shirt. His voice sounded muffled as he spoke, “You don’t like philosophy either?”
“Cried my way all the way through the midterms and swore to never take anything philosophy-related again.”
“That’s good. I should do that,” he slurred his words and before long, all you heard were his soft snores. 
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Jihoon liked to think he wasn’t particularly clingy. He didn’t need constant assurance from his friends that he was still loved and wanted – he knew they liked and wanted him around. He knew that you liked and wanted him around.
But when your near-hourly updates about the randomest things you had seen and done were replaced by radio silence, Jihoon grew more and more anxious. Though he knew it was silly to think so, he couldn’t help but worry he had annoyed you into leaving him.
Throughout the day, he kept glancing at his phone. Even just a single message – heck, even an emoji – would make his day infinitely better. When he wasn’t staring at his phone, begging for any notification with your name on it, he was looking at the people around him in the hopes of seeing your familiar face among them.
The day went by without as much as a sign from you.
He felt silly. He felt dumb. He felt like he was going to cry very real tears if you didn’t respond to his text before midnight. 
He let out a loud sigh of relief when your nickname finally popped up on his screen. The tears gathered in his eyes dissipated slowly as he shakily unlocked the phone and tapped on your newest message.
[darling ♡: oh my god. i’m sorry for not answergi !! so sorry!!!]
Jihoon blinked away the remnants of his anxious tears and smiled at the sight of your words. You hadn’t left him just yet. He still had a girlfriend who cared for him.
[it’s okay. did something happen?]
[darling ♡: yeah hahah funny story actually…]
[darling ♡: i think i caught something and i’ve been trying to sleep it off haha]
And just like that, his anxiety was back. Jihoon straightened in his seat, one hand still typing while the other blindly searched for his jacket. 
[youre sick?,??m???]
[darling ♡: a little bit…]
[i’m coming over-]
Before you could send a message of protest, he shrugged his jacket on and headed out the door. Even though he realistically knew that he wouldn’t be much help and would just end up sick himself, he couldn’t just let you suffer all alone.
As he practically galloped down the stairs from his 3rd floor dorm, he texted the group chat for help and assurance.
[L.SM.: she’s sick?! make her dinner! what’s her favourite soup??]
Jihoon paused mid-step. What was your favourite soup?
He arrived at your apartment just ten minutes later, a bag in hand. You greeted him at the door, bags under your eyes, skin dull and lips dry. Jihoon couldn’t help but pout at the sight. 
“What happened to you?” he asked, reaching up to brush his thumb across the cracked skin of your lips. “Have you been drinking water at all?”
“The fridge is too far from the bed,” you told him with a defeated sigh before practically melting into his embrace. “I told you not to come.”
He scoffed out a laugh and began rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. “Well, I’m here anyway. And I’m making you food. How does tomato soup sound?”
“Like you don’t know how to make chicken soup,” you answered with a suspicious squint of your eyes. 
He laughed at that, ears turning red at the way you had caught onto his scheme. “Alright, I think you should go back to resting.”
“You should go to sleep too,” you argued. “It’s past midnight already and you have classes tomorrow.”
“I can skip a day.” He said it with such ease and carelessness that you couldn’t help but wonder who this man was because your boyfriend hadn’t skipped any classes in the entire time you had been together. 
Still, you were too tired to care. Soup sounded better than sleeping on an empty stomach for another 12 hours. 
“Can I at least help you cook?” you practically begged, hanging onto his arm as he began preparing in the kitchen. 
A little taken aback by your affection, he laughed nervously. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I think I’m starting to feel better actually,” you half-joked, watching with starry eyes as he expertly washed and then chopped the tomatoes. “Seeing you has recharged me with energy.”
“Yeah?” He hummed in thought before offering you a mischievous smile. “Then do you have enough energy to go and rest a little?”
Your face dropped. “Why can’t you just accept my love?”
“Because I’m pretty sure you’re feverish and standing up for long won’t do you any good, darling,” he whispered before pressing a swift kiss to your cheek and returning to his task. “So, go rest on the sofa. I can go get your laptop so you can watch something, if you want.”
“But what if I want to cuddle?”
“Cuddle a pillow.”
“You’re cruel.”
He rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics. Clearly the fever was affecting you worse than he had feared. “When I literally ran across the district to come here and make you soup at midnight?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Fine, you can stay,” he paused and gave a warning glare, even if it looked far less threatening with the smile playing on his lips, “for now.”
You let out a soft cheer and cuddled back into his side, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he made you soup. You marvelled at the graceful movements of his hands. You couldn’t help but wonder how many of his friends he had made food for. For now you were just glad to be one of them.
“I hope I recover fast,” you whispered. “Or maybe I should just stay sick forever.”
“Why?”
“I have a stupid presentation next week. I haven’t even started reading to prepare for it.” You buried your face into the fabric of his hoodie. He took a moment to press his cheek against your head in an act of assurance. You sighed and mumbled a final, “Stupid finals.”
He laughed at that. “I’ll get you some medicine tomorrow so you can recover fast.”
With a groan, you straightened up a little again to side-eye him. “Can’t you just leave me here to suffer? Or help me fake my death? What kind of a boyfriend are you?”
“The kind that wants his girlfriend to be healthy for our end-of-the-semester date night,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
His confidence really made you wonder if you had forgotten about this clearly existing tradition between the two of you. But no, you were pretty sure he had just made this up. Or perhaps you were too loopy from paracetamol to remember. 
Either way, you let yourself get carried away into a fantasy of sharing a date night with only your boyfriend and no university stress. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
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The end of the semester came faster than Jihoon or any of his friends would have liked. It snuck up on them between the despair and sleepless nights of the exam session. And he could not have been happier about it.
Once he had submitted the final essay of the semester – the very last graded project he’d have to submit before a well-deserved break –, he slammed his laptop shut and looked at you, still hunched over your laptop on the bed, re-reading the last paragraphs of your own essay.
“Hold on,” you told him upon feeling his eyes on yourself, “I’m almost done.”
“No rush,” he replied with a sweet smile before letting out a soft giggle of relief and falling back onto your mattress, his arms spread out as if to soak in the freedom.
As if the sight of your boyfriend basking in the glow of no more exams had motivated you to finish sooner than you planned, you hurriedly rushed to upload your final assignment. A green check mark appeared on the screen to indicate that you could finally join your boyfriend. 
With a loud cheer, you closed your own laptop and crawled over to where your boyfriend was lying. Immediately you burrowed into his side and sighed happily. “This semester sucked.”
“You can say that again,” he agreed and wrapped an arm around your shoulders like he had done so many times before. “But at least it’s over now.”
You hated to be the wet blanket but… “Unless one of us fails.”
He groaned and used the same arm to roll you away from him. “I hate you. Go away.”
You laughed at the way he scrunched up his face in distaste as if he had swallowed bitter medicine. “I’m just saying. We’re not safe yet.”
“We’re safe enough,” he declared and waved your negative thoughts away. “God, I hate you, now you’re making me anxious.”
“You don’t actually hate me,” you sang and rolled back over to him, settling right on top of him, your nose against his own. “In fact, you like me.”
He grimaced. “Unfortunately.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasped and sat up, resting your hand on his chest as you leaned upright to glared at him. “Unfortunately?!”
He laughed at your theatrics, giggling with his whole body, shaking so hard in the process that you lost your balance and fell back right on top of him. His arm came to rest around your shoulders again. Once he was out of giggles, he continued smiling and caressed your cheek. “You’re so freaking cute. It’s unfair.”
“Take back that ‘unfortunately’ and I might get even cuter,” you told him, a suspicious glare set on him. 
His smile never faded as he leaned up just a little, resting his entire body weight on one arm just to press his lips to yours. “I take the word back.”
“Good,” you decided and joined in his laughter before kissing him again, “because I kind of love you, actually.”
He froze. His eyes widened just a fraction, his lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise.
He stayed like that for long enough to make you worry you had made your move too fast. He liked to take it slow – you knew that. He had been taking it slow all this time. And now you’ve confessed and he probably thought you were ridiculous and dumb and–
“Darling…” His lips curled into a smile, his eyes turning into joyful crescents, and then he leaned in again. 
His hands came to rest on your cheeks, squishing them just a little as he pulled you to his lips. He kissed you again and again and again. 
He kissed you until you were dumb. He didn’t stop kissing you until you were sure you couldn’t form a single word that wasn’t his name. 
Then, eventually, with both of your lips swollen and eyes dazed, he leaned back and nuzzled his nose against your own. “I love you so, darling, I really do.”
It took you a moment to understand what he was saying. He had kissed you so dumb that you could’ve sworn he was speaking in another language. But finally, your brain caught up with the situation and a smile appeared on your face, bright and proud and full of adoration for your boyfriend. 
“You should kiss me like that more often,” you told him, teasing, trying to see what he’d do. 
He replied with a playful roll of his eyes and another kiss, a single one but much longer than the last twenty. 
“I love you,” you whispered again against his lips.
His smile only seemed to brighten even more at that. “I love you too.”
But as he was about to go in for another kiss, a loud vibration sounded from somewhere in the sheets. The two of you glanced around as the vibrations continued, breaking you from the romantic daze.
“Is someone calling you?” he wondered. 
“My phone’s been on silent since the dawn of time, babe,” you told him easily and helped him look for his phone. “It must be yours.”
Just when you said those words, the vibrations abruptly stopped. And then another vibration came, short and gentle this time. 
You found his phone under the pillows, Soonyoung’s contact name appearing alongside the missed call symbol and a minimised text message on the screen.
“It’s your tiger friend,” you told Jihoon and turned to hand the phone to him when the phone vibrated again with a new message coming in. 
It wasn’t your fault that the whole screen flashed to life with the message – what were you supposed to do? Not read it? 
[K.SY.: oh, nonie said u’re with y/n?]
And then another message arrived before he could take the phone from your hands. 
[K.SY.: have u told her u love her yet ??!?!!]
[K.SY.: the chat is rootin for u!!!! u’ve been good at following our advice this far. u’ve got this!!]
A mischievous smile appeared on your face as you read the message. Jihoon didn’t realise what made you react this way until he took his phone and read the message minimised on his lockscreen. He groaned as the realisation hit.
“Don’t start–”
“You told your friends that you loved me,” you beat him to it, reaching over to squish his cheeks and kiss his nose. “And you asked them for advice? You’re so goddamn cute.”
His ears got progressively more red with every word. He quickly swiped the messages off his screen and threw his phone as far away as he could without potentially breaking it. “It wasn’t like that–”
“I’m just teasing, baby,” you laughed and pulled him into a comforting hug. Poor man was mortified. “I do have to ask though: what kind of advice did you get from them?”
“Well,” he hesitated as you looked at him expectantly, “I wanted to be a good boyfriend, so… I asked them how to be a better boyfriend…”
You pressed your lips to his. “You’re a good boyfriend, Jihoon, I promise. You’re the best, actually.” 
“I had to ask my friends for help just to get the courage to initiate a kiss,” he confessed, squeezing his eyes shut as the urge to cringe and hide away under the bed overcame him. “I’m a mediocre boyfriend, at most.”
“I strongly disagree,” you told him and pulled him in for another kiss, “but we’ll work on your confidence, my love.”
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♡ THE END! ♡
723 notes · View notes
ghostofwriting · 1 month
Text
Kildare Split Part One: Angel
Chapter One: Angel
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Note: Thank you all for commenting, liking, reblogging, and interacting with the KS smau's! I really appreciate you all and thought that I would give you a little treat for being so nice. I can't sleep so here is part one of Kildare Split's story, more specifically y/n and Rafe's. Hope you have fun getting to read about the behind-the-scenes. This is absolutely not edited.
Warnings: none, bad writing, Rafe being mean.
Word Count: 3,710
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Synopsis: Everyone has noticed that there's been a shift in how Kildare Split acts around each other. Rafe and Y/N used to be so close, they were always pictured together, and always shared stories of each other and for the last few years, there has been nothing from them. A behind-the-scenes look at what went down between everyone's favorite band.
The audience claps as the interviewer closes out the interview. The four of them stand up and start shaking hands with the man. One of the Jimmys or Seth or maybe even Jack. She doesn’t know. She just wants to leave. She’s so tired. It’s been such a long day of pretending. 
Y/n’s the first one to make it backstage, she breathes deeply, her back against a wooden panel. 
“Hey, you okay?” a voice comes from behind her. She puts on a smile and nods her head. 
“Yeah, Top. Fine.” He nods and gives her a half smile. 
Things aren’t the same as they used to be. They haven’t been the same in so long. Two years? Maybe three. Everything is such a blur. Time mending together. Touring helps a lot. It helps time pass, and it helps distract her. Being on stage helps too, that’s the only moment that she can pretend that everything is okay and believe it. She can look at Rafe and smile at him and it feels like before. 
Topper leaves her alone, he goes back to the guys, hanging back with them as they talk to their manager. She walks into the dressing room, gathering her stuff and waiting for Sarah to text her that they’re ready to go. 
Rafe walks into the room, alone. 
“Good job tonight.” He doesn’t look at her. He just starts shoving his belongings into a tote, grabbing some extra snacks that the show provided them. 
She’s so angry. Even still. Even after all this time. She wants to scream at him, beg him to explain himself but she can’t. So she stays quiet. 
“This has to stop.” He says, pausing his actions, still not looking at her. 
She looks at the back of his head. His hair starting to grow out from when he buzzed it, bleached from his album shoot. 
She wants to speak but she can’t. It’s like the anger chokes her up, this ball of fire stuck in her throat and she can’t get a word out because all that will come out is lava. She wants to hurt him. Wants him to feel a fraction of what she felt. And even then, she doesn’t even know if she’s in the right. Two years later and she’s still mad at him, even if she shouldn’t be. 
Sarah tried telling her to talk to him, to work it all out for the sake of the band. From her perspective, the band hasn’t suffered. The band is doing better than ever and she thinks that she deserves an award for not killing Rafe on stage. 
Sometimes she wishes she could put everything behind her and just try and be his friend again. They may never be best friends again, but she could speak to him at least. She thinks she’s civil with him though. He’s not dead so that says something. 
Rafe just sighs and sits on the counter, pulling out his phone. He’s probably texting her. His girlfriend. No, the fiance. The one he cheated on her with. Or well, sort of.
+++
Rafe and y/n met when they were 10 years old. She was friends with Sarah and always went over to her house. She thought of Sarah as her best friend until she met Rafe. Maybe it was love at first sight or a little kid crush but she grew attached. She would not leave him alone. Luckily for her, Rafe was the same way. He always followed her around, asking her to play when he saw her on the beach, at school, or if their parents ran into each other at the grocery store. 
They became inseparable and soon they added two new faces to their duo. Topper and Barry. It was early on that they knew what they wanted to do with their lives. They would put on shows for whoever wanted to watch. They would sing at the top of their lungs and smash around on every surface they could find. 
Soon after, y/n had asked her mom to put her in guitar lessons. She picked it up quickly but she always enjoyed singing more. She had bragged to Rafe about how fun her vocal lessons were and he convinced his father that he wanted to join too. It was contagious because soon enough, Topper and Barry had each claimed an instrument that they practiced every day after school for hours. They drove their parents insane. 
Rafe said that they couldn’t have two guitar players in the band and Topper refused to drop lead guitar so y/n did. Rafe was mad at Topper first but y/n reassured him that she could pick up bass quickly. They became Kildare Split on a blisteringly hot summer day in Barry’s garage. Sarah, John B, and JJ watching their rehearsal. After that, they played shows whenever they could. Dive bars, small fairs around town, and busking outside venues where established bands were playing. 
It took them from the ages of 12 to 17 to get discovered but they never let up. When they finally got signed to their label, y/n remembers crying in Rafe’s arms. She was so happy, their dreams were coming true and she was doing it with her best friends. 
Little did she know that everything would fall apart so fast. 
Childhood is pretty much lost when you’re playing stingy bars full of drunk people and drugs at 12 years old. She thought that it would get better once they had protection from managers and label heads. She was wrong. It almost became worse. Drugs were everywhere. At 17 getting drugs offered to you by a 50-year-old man who controls your entire career is pretty terrifying. She didn’t think she could say no. The boys didn’t think they could say no. It was intense. Some of them made it out better than others, and the others, well, that’s the downfall of fame at such a young age. 
There was an entire year where she probably spent half of it high out of her mind. She went from doing it out of fear of losing her career to craving it, needing it. Rafe was the same way. Topper had tried to help them both but they were too far gone. She remembers going on talk shows, but not which talk shows or who they talked to or what they talked about. She looks back on those days and feels a pit in her stomach. Losing such a big chunk of her young adult life that she can’t relive hurts. 
That’s when it all started. She was high and drunk, and Rafe was high and drunk and one thing led to another. They had never crossed that line before. After her initial crush went away, she had never thought of Rafe that way. When it happened, it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her head. She woke up the next day and immediately regretted it. She apologized to Rafe, told him that it could never happen again and bolted. 
That’s when she cleaned her act up. She couldn’t risk their relationship, for their friendship and the band. 
One thing she should have known is that Rafe didn’t care. He wanted her and he was going to have her. And who was she to shove all her bottled-up feelings back in their little box? Who was she to deny him?
So they start their little song and dance. At first, they keep it hidden from everyone. If Topper and Barry were to find out, they would be so incredibly upset and they would tell them to stop. 
She can’t stop. She doesn’t want to stop. Not as long as Rafe wants her. 
She gets clean and she tries to help Rafe get clean too. He relapses time and time again, crawling back to her, asking for another chance. She’s been there, she knows how hard it is to get clean so of course she gives him all the chances he asks for. 
They hook up on and off for a year. They never become anything official because Rafe isn’t in the headspace to be in a relationship. He needs to focus on himself and she wants to help him and if he needs her to be his friend, that’s what she’ll be. 
“You’re friends with benefits with my brother,” Sarah says stunned. Topper and Barry had found out and ran to her to get her to talk some sense into Rafe and y/n. 
“It’s not like that.” Sarah looks at her incredulously. 
“Are you or are you not fucking my brother?” y/n doesn’t know how to respond so she stays quiet. Sarah is scary when she’s mad.
“It’s not because he’s my brother, y/n. It’s because of what he means to you.” y/n shakes her head, smiling softly. 
“Sarah, I promise you, it’s okay. Rafe and I have an agreement.” Sarah sighs and looks at her with concern.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” She should’ve taken Sarah’s advice. She should have put a stop to everything that minute everyone found out. She was too far gone for him though, she couldn’t leave him, not when he needed her. 
Everyone warned her. Everyone told her that it would end badly. 
“I just want you to know that if he does something, those boys will choose him. You’re the odd variable y/n, know that.” Cleo had said to her one night when they were in the tour bus, the boys off on a run. 
“I am just as important to them as Rafe is.” Or she had thought. 
On one stupid drunken night she tells Rafe that she loves him. He gapes at her not knowing what to say. 
“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” She understands, of course, she does. It’s not like that between them. 
The doesn’t stop her from crying in Barry’s arms about it. She hiccups and sobs into his chest about how much she loves him and how he will never look at her that way. Barry just listens and holds her. She falls asleep in his arms. She feels so safe with him. Her best friend. 
Shit hits the fan all at once and so fast. 
Sarah sits her down one night after a show. Her adrenaline is still pumping, she wants to go jump around with the guys and run laps around the venue. 
“Sar, can we do this later?”
“This can’t wait.” The tone in her voice brings her back down to earth. It’s serious. 
“What’s wrong?” y/n knows it’s about Rafe before Sarah opens her mouth. She feels it, there’s a shift in whatever the hell universe she’s been living in. Her face feels hot, her ears are ringing, and she feels like she starts to shake. 
“Rafe is seeing someone.” Of course, he is. She’s y/n she’s just his friend.
A friend that he sleeps with. A friend that has stayed up all night with him as he detoxed. A friend who drove him to and from meetings, that drove him to rehab and told everyone that he was on vacation. She was the person that he would run to when any little thing went wrong, she held him as he cried about their career not going anywhere and having to go back to work for his dad. She let him sob in her arms about all the shit that they have been through during the lift-off of their career. She was there for him, always for him and he promised her. He promised that he would always be there for her that it was only her. That he only ever wanted her and when he got his shit together they could be together. He told her that he wasn’t sleeping around. He didn’t have time for girlfriends, he didn’t have time to put in the work on a relationship because he could barely put the work into himself. He told her that she was the only one he was ending his nights with and waking up in the mornings with. He promised her the world and it was all just a lie. 
Just as fast as her body starts shaking, it relaxes, she takes a deep breath and looks at Sarah, the look of concern still on her face. 
“Who?” she asks lowly. 
“This painter, named Sofia.” The name rings a bell. She thinks she’s seen her call Rafe a few times. 
“That’s okay. We weren’t dating.” Sarah’s concern grows so y/n smiles at her. 
“Let’s go back out there.”
“Do you want me to call Cleo?” Sarah asks. 
“I’m good, Sar.”
And she is. Or at least she’s trying to be good. She has no right to be angry. They weren’t dating. He doesn’t owe her anything. 
They walk into the room where the guys are playing video games. Waiting for the fans to leave the venue before it’s safe for them to leave. 
“Hey! Great show tonight angel!” Rafe says looking away from the screen at her. She gives him a short smile, her face pensive. 
Cleo’s words ring in her head, those boys will choose him those boys will choose him those boys will choose him.
She knows all three of them like the back of her hand. Topper's lip quivers when he lies. Barry doesn’t look you in the eyes. And Rafe, Rafe’s ears turn red. 
She has to know if the two boys, men, that she grew up with and calls her family, would keep that from her. 
“So who’s Sofia?” She watches as all three of them tense. She’s looking between Barry and Topper but she sees Rafe turn to look at Sarah with anger between his brows from her peripherals. 
She looks for the cues and hopes that she can’t find them. It’s hard to miss when Barry doesn’t look up from his controller but is frozen, quiet. She looks at Topper, his mouth open, trying to find something to say.
“I don’t know, some person we commissioned probably.” She can’t help the breathy sob that escapes her lips when she sees the quiver on Topper’s. 
She swallows hard, she turns to Rafe, shaking her head at him and backing away. 
“You’re a liar. You’re a fucking liar. All of you are.” She backs into the hallway, her eyes still floating from one to the other. 
“y/n-” Topper moves towards her but she holds her hand out and cuts him off.
“No. Stay away from me. I never- I-” she chokes on a sob. “ I never would have done this to you. Don’t talk to me, don’t follow me, just stay away from me.” She turns on her feet and books it out of the room and hallway, she hears Rafe chewing Sarah out but doesn’t stay long enough to hear what Sarah says. 
Things are awkward, to say the least from then on. She stayed in her bunk and silently cried herself to sleep. She wants to go to him, ask him what she could have done, ask him what happened and when he knew he wanted to stop things with her. He doesn’t come to see her that night, or the next night or the night after that. 
At first, she thought it was because he was giving her time to cool off but on the third night of complete silence from him, she walks into the dressing room of their show in Nashville and a pretty girl with short hair sits on the couch. 
“Hi, I’m Sofia. You must be y/n.” She extends her hand out and y/n takes it. 
“Nice to meet you.” y/n says. 
“You too, sorry about how things went down.” Y/n scrunches up her nose, her head tilting. 
“What?” She asks.
“I mean, I knew he had to choose eventually, he just didn’t get the chance to tell you.” She feels like she’s going to throw up. She wasn’t planning on hating Sofia, but she knew. Sofia knew that y/n existed and she still kept on seeing him. 
She walks out of the room. 
That same night, everything changed. If he had just apologized, if he had told her that he fucked up and he was too drugged up to think clearly, she would have forgiven him. That’s not what happened. 
She runs into Rafe in the lunch area and can’t hold in all her feelings. She needs to know what he’s thinking and wants to ask him to explain himself. 
“Rafe?” He doesn’t acknowledge her. 
“Can we please talk?”
“God Y/n, I don’t want to fucking talk. I’m so goddamn tired of you moping around this place like you have any right.” He explodes at her, his face red. 
“What?” She’s shocked, he’s never talked to her like this. 
“You’re just some girl I fucked okay? I needed to get off and you were always there. You were just a fuck. I don’t care about you like that.” He pauses. His words sank into her like knives. 
“I’m going to get clean for her. Sofia, she’s worth it.” He walks out of the room without saying anything else to her. She feels her eyes start to water, chills running up and down her body.
How could he be so cruel? How could her best friend of so many years say he doesn’t care about her? How could he disregard her feelings and belittle her to be just someone he fucked? She thought they were friends. She believed that they would come out of this situation unscathed but he didn’t even see her as a person. 
The people she thought cared about her most in the world, didn’t care about her at all. They all chose someone else. They didn’t choose her. 
She had never felt so alone in her entire life. And for the first time since they started their journey as a band, she wondered if any of it had been worth it. 
+++
“I don’t think it can stop.” It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him directly and not on stage or in an interview in years. 
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to move out of LA, back home probably or New York with Cleo and Pope.”
“y/n.” It’s not Rafe’s voice saying her name, it’s Barry from behind her. She turns around and looks at him, looks past him and Topper, and then back at Rafe.”
“I think we all know this has been building up and it’s getting really hard to pretend all the time so um-yeah I’m going to go, I need a break after the tour’s over.” She gulps down the ball building in her throat. She needs to get through this. She hates putting the band on the back burner and hates that she’s to blame.
“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks her, getting off the counter.
“It’s just a break. I think we should announce a prolonged hiatus and just do our own thing for a bit.”
“We have an entire third album to record,” Rafe says incredulously.
“I’ll keep writing and you can send me the vocals you want me to lay down. It’ll be fine.”
“You’re breaking up the band over some stupid grudge?” Rafe asks. 
“That’s not what I’m saying. I just need some time.” It’s not a grudge.
“You have got to be kidding me, y/n, come on. I know how much you love touring and making music.”
“I do,” her voice breaks, “I just need time away from all of you.”
“You need a break from us? What did we do?” Barry pipes in.
“You left me alone. You let him,” she points at Rafe, “belittle me and make me feel like nothing. You isolated me for two years.” Rafe scoffs. 
“You did that yourself.” He sounds hurt more than he does angry. He’s different now. He’s better in a way. He hasn’t apologized to her but he’s good now. He’s clean. He got clean for Sofia. Because she was worth it and y/n wasn’t. 
“Because I was hurt, Rafe! You broke my heart. I fucking told you that I loved you, I was honest with my feelings for you and you never said anything back and then you told me you didn’t care about me!”
“I wasn’t in my right mind.” The tears are still gathering in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall. 
“If you had just apologized to me, this wouldn’t have happened but you said some nasty shit and never looked back and I was just so alone.”
“Do you know what it’s like to have no one to talk to on tour for months on end? That’s what I have had to go through for years because I don’t trust any of you! Because you hurt me and never apologized.”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s late but I’m sorry.” Topper is the one that speaks up. 
“Thank you, but it’s too late. I need some time. I need to heal so that the band can continue because I don’t think I can do this for much longer if I stay.” Topper nods, agreeing with her. She gives him a thankful smile and breathes in deep. 
“Okay, so we finish the tour, and a week or so later we announce that we’re going on a break. We’ll still write and record and we can even release the album but I won’t be doing press for it.” She looks at all three of them and nods. There’s a finality to her words. No room for argument. 
“And you have your solo album to figure out and do press for, maybe you can even tour it. You’ll be fine.” She says to Rafe, more words than she had said to him directly in a long time.
“I’ll see you all soon.” With that, she walks out of the talk show’s dressing room, towards the exit of the building. She was going to finish up this tour. She could do that and then she could rest.
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beiasluv · 1 year
Text
neteyam x human!reader
°:. *₊ ° . ° .•
a/n: the domestic bliss got me so, here it is / let’s say you guys are the same age /spoilers??
masterlist
enjoy!
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being a human on pandora isn’t easy as you might think. breathing air? not possible without a mask. traveling around? quite difficult with human’s capability.
but those didn’t stop you from loving this planet any less.
you are one of those babies who didn’t got a chance to travel back to earth 10 years ago, and you are not complaining.
pandora is much quieter and more peaceful (well, not yet, and we are here for fluff)
spider is one of your friends, well your only friend, until you meet netayam and the sullys. spider taught you the na’vi language, until you are fluent to a certain level. you can catch many phrases, but, unfortunately, can not reply.
you first met neteyam when you were both still young. he was practicing hunting for fish and you were exploring around the forest
“ok, near the rock, just as dad told…,” a young blue na’vi mumbled to himself and stretched back his arm, holding his weapon. splash! a loud sound echoed from the water as the fish was caught dead by the sharp tip. “yes! dad! I did it! I caught a fish!”
“…dad?” he looked into the bush as he saw your (e/c) reflected by the sunlight.
he crawled closer to the bush as he saw you running away deep into the forest. without any delay, he followed your footsteps and scents. along the way, admiring your beautiful choice of path into the damp grassy area. there, he found you napping peacefully by a tree and woodsprites surrounded you. your hair contrasted the green grass perfectly, yet your exomask covers your face from his.
“…hey,” the boy nudged you slightly causing you to stirred awake.
“wh..who are you?” you gathered yourself quickly, hiding your face from him. “oh wait, do you even know what I am saying? um…sorry, Ohe can’t tukru na’vi (I can’t speak na’vi)”
“you are funny, because you are speaking it right now, i am neteyam, who are you?” he giggled “I haven’t seen you around before, let alone a human,” he turned your face towards him. he tapped playfully on your mask, examining it as he looked into it.
“i am um…(y/n), and I haven’t left the lab that much,” neteyam stared into your eyes. “you must be spider’s friend, he told me about his friends.”
“are you related to spider?! must be nice keeping you to himself,” he fake pouted. “i want to have more human friends, my brother have five fingers like you!”
“well, you can meet me again by the lab. I didn’t left it that much, because i don’t have friends, except spider, of course, but he likes to leave me alone in the forest,” you rolled your eyes and received a giggled from neteyam.
“i can be your friend! and i promise I’ll never leave you in the forest!” he grinned showing his whitey teeth.
it was easy to say that your life had never been the same ever since
your duty patrolling grace’s tank at the lab isn’t so boring as before, and you get to meet and know grace’s legacy, kiri
neteyam would visit the lab with kiri more often, making up excuses like he wants to make sure she is okay while visiting grace.
another reason he likes to see you in the lab, because he can touch your face without the difficulties of a mask. he likes to hold your hand and especially your pinkie.
you, neteyam, and kiri became greats friends. while sometimes you would visit them in the forest; you noticed neytiri wasn’t giving spider the warmest welcome, so you learned to keep a space from her
neteyam, the being the older brother he is, is always protective of you and his siblings. you two are often teased as the parents of the group.
neteyam will carry you wherever and whenever you want. even times when you insist you can walk on your own, but he will carry you through the jungle.
tuk is very attached to you, even though she is 2x bigger than you but she’s your baby sister.
kiri is your bestieee, and she definitely knows all the tea. you will always comfort her when she gets picked on for her hands.
“these pinkies are here for special reason, it is for pinkie promises. a special promise for special someone, and you are special to me, kiri,” she smiled back.
the middle brother, lo’ak, is quite reserved at first but you’ve managed to melt his wall away. your warmth that his brother couldn’t resist made him comforted every time he is around you.
he sees you as an older sister and you’ve managed to made him listen more than his own brother. you know how to cheer him up and comfort him wherever he felt that he is his brother’s shadow. you became soft mother figure to him.
jake, being somewhat of a human, took you under his wings. he sees you and neteyam often teasing each other, and that reminded him of himself. (neteyam: one down, one more to go)
he is always glad that there is someone helping him and his wife around the house. you were there to support his children emotionally and physically, sometimes.
well, years had passed and the ‘lovebirds’ had grown stronger ever than before.
everything was going smoothly, until two reasons.
one, the sky people are back again.
two, you have grown weaker than before.
your human body was great but you hoped that you could have an avatar of your own, and coincidentally, the lab had been creating one for you. (definitely neteyam did not asked for one and definitely he did not begged his grandma to help with consciousness transfer)
“we have to take your DNA, okay? my (y/n)…” neteyam ran his hand through your head and hair calming you down. “i don’t know ways to help you other than this, i don’t want to lose you, alright? you are my best friend.”
‘you are the love of my life!’ you thought. “yes, i know, neteyam, take my DNA even if it means i am dying soon.”
“no! you are not dying, the sky people are here, well, yes, they might be your species, but you are special to me, okay?” he sighed. “I will not lose my best friend, not to a problem we have a solution to.”
“i don’t know what are we fighting for! you know that i am about to die, why then worth trying something that can be passed on for spider or other human with more opportunities and possibilities than me!”
“please, dont make this harder, okay?”
“neteyam! neteyam! nete-“ and that was the last thing you saw, netayam holding you down and a scientist with an anesthesia.
“grandma, how is she taking it?” neteyam strolled hurriedly around your body.
“wait out, you hot-headed boy, she’s going through…”
“what- what is going on?”
“(y/n)! (y/n)!” the blue faced boy went ahead and hugged your body close.
“neteyam, glad to see you-“ “woah- you aren’t so big anymore, my- my feet! they’re huge! woah- i have a tail? look! woah- what- my ear is like a cat’s”
“woah- woah woah, take it easy, my (y/n), that’s what i went through for 15 years, you just had it for one minute and you’re going crazy!” he giggled. “see? it wasn’t so bad after all and what’s a cat?”
“silly of you, neteyam- but why the tree of souls?”
“got cha consciousness transferred, wouldn’t have it done the scientifac- scientific ways,” he tapped your forehead slightly. “i begged for grandma myself, glad she’s helping out, or we’re doomed.”
“thank you, neteyam.”
life didn’t get easier after that, but you were now together, at last.
the sullys welcomed you quickly and warmly. neytiri had some hard times but jake reminded her once again of their past.
-spoilers-
uncertain times calls for uncertain choices, the sullys decided to move to the metkayina for shelter.
neteyam and his siblings, along with you, flew across the ocean toward your temporary home.
the flight there was risky as you guys had to travel across the storms and oceans. neteyam held you tightly within his embrace the whole flight.
the first few weeks, he often cries whenever he is alone with you, saying you are his safe house.
“i- i want to go home, (y/n), i can’t do this anymore,” he sniffles on your lap.
“i am so sorry, nete, we are here now, i miss our home too, but this is for the best for the people,” you cradled him close.
“you- you shouldn’t say sorry, my (y/n), it’s not your fault,” he grabbed your hair tight as he cried.
“ow, nete, c’mon let’s go swim and calm down,” you swayed him like a baby and sang him songs.
at the ocean villages, the leader welcomed the sullys with not the warmest welcome but satisfying enough for the time. they must live and depend on it for now, that’s the least they could do.
kiri and you got called out for having five fingers which neteyam did not take it very well. he had been hostile towards anyone who made fun of your hands.
tsireya, ao’nung, and the rest welcomed them as well, although the boys could’ve been much friendlier in your thought.
tsireya and you kicked along pretty well, she’s beautiful, kind, caring, and hot. 😳 (sorry, not sorry)
of course, you gotta tease her with lo’ak, and how she told him ‘i see you’ before you and neteyam was a disgrace. you love her like a sister and adores her so bad.
likewise, she never misses a chance to tease you with neteyam.
“please, y/n, when? when are you going to do it!”
“not now, not never, does he even like me?” you pouted. “he calls me his best friend, i am obviously in the friend zone.”
“c’mon, please, that boy is head over heals for you,” she rolled her blue eyes. “when i taught you guys to swim, he is drooling over you underwater, almost choking himself unalive i supposed,” she giggled.
“maybe he is just amazed by the ocean, it is really pretty,” you sighed.
“girl- you are not taking hints.”
and boys are boys, they were fighting on the beach over kiri. kiri stood there laughing and her brothers getting themselves into the mess. while you walked out of the water sprinting towards neteyam and lo’ak, grabbing their ears and dragging them out.
“i apologize for my friends,” you laughed politely at ao’nung’s face.
“e- erm, i am sorry, too,” he was stunned by your face, dampened by the water, and your hair sticking to your body. ‘grrr’ neteyam scowling in the background behind your back to ao’nung.
“now if you please excuse us, i am so sorry, let me know if you want me to treat your wound as an apology,” you smiled and turned back to widened your eyes at neteyam and lo’ak.
“so- sorry” “sorry🖕”
“lo’ak!”
wound-tending sessions wasn’t as fun as watching them fight.
kiri took lo’ak and you took neteyam.
earning ‘ow’s and ‘ouch’s form neteyam you scolded him while patching him up.
“squeeze my leg if it hurts.”
he did tried not to but he ended up left some red marks on your legs.
during harsh and cold times, you still find your comfort in neteyam. you guys cuddle every night together before bed, and singing lullabies together, reminding each other of home.
neteyam likes to be the big spoon but you can be the big spoon, too, ever since your human form to your avatar form.
now for domestic stuffs in metkayinaa
you guys love to swim together in the ocean, and sometimes hiding the reefs (shh, they make a great place for a kiss on the cheek)
neteyam loves your hand, he will hold them wherever you go.
he loves finding pretty shells for you and clipping them onto your hair.
ao’nung having a crush on you, and tsireya told him off. because, obviously, she is your biggest shipper.
neytiri and jake knew there is no use separating you and neteyam, so one calls for a family meeting.
she noticed how her children received an emotional support whenever they need it from you. neytiri slowly accepted you into her family and realized that you had become more than a friend to their family, but a part of them. now, she sends a heartwarming smile for you. (neteyam, two down, it’s only you babe)
“thank you, (y/n), for taking care of my family,” she hugged you. “you are a part of us, never let them separate us apart.”
“I trust you, (y/n), i see a great potential in you, take care of my sons and daughters in this time of war,” jake touched his forehead against yours.
fond moments must come to an end; the thing they dreaded the most had arrived, the sky people
you guys fought until your very last breath, and every moments felt like it is your last
“go! y/n! go!” lo’ak and spider jumped into the middle pool of the boat, while neteyam took the gun.
“okay! love! on my count okay?” you shouted back.
“no! on my count- OKAY HE’S DOWN! 1…2-“ he was taken back by your push, and as of everything goes in slow motion. your body push his against the rails and made him fall into the pool.
the bullet made its way towards your chest, and everything flashes back. your mom, your dad, your lonely childhood, meeting him for the first time, meeting the sullys, growing up together, transferring your consciousness, traveling here, and fighting along side him.
you felt an impact within your body, and his eyes widened as you both fall into the water. he cradled your body in his as you both meet the impact of the water. slowly, your bodies submerged into the water and he pulled you out…and everything seems to black out.
“no no no no NO!” you heard neteyam screams.
“rip that cloth, RIGHT NOW!” jake shouted. “she is losing her consciousness!” you felt a burning sensation and a tightening sensation on your shoulder.
“is she alright DAD! SHE IS SHAKING! DO SOMETHING!” neteyam cries and clings onto your body.
“y/n…” tsireya hold your hand and her wet tears dropped on your arms.
“No! My child, my guardian protector!” Neytiri screamed in agony, as she lose her voice in the attempt.
“neteyam! take her to the village if you still want to have the love of your life,” he pushed her into his embrace. without a second thought, he calls his ilu and drove head straight to the village.
the boy waited impatiently in front of the village’s nurse. he traced back and forth and his breath hitched whenever the nurse made any noise. he prayed to the great mother that she will be fine. his meals were untouched and he didn’t bothered fighting along his brother’s side for once.
he loathed the demon ever than before, he prayed his mother would’ve finish him off the second time.
it has been three days and the family is back together. they’ve been healing together spiritually and physically, except one boy who refuses to join them, neteyam. he had been sitting in front of the nurse room for four days full, until he heard a sound.
“neteyam?”
“yes? is she alright?”
“go ahead and see her for yourself,” the nurse opened the curtain.
“(y/n)? are you awake?”
“ne- neteyam? are you hurt?”
“(y/n)! thank the great mother!” he hugged your body so tightly that you might rip apart. “i thought i had lost you!” he cling onto her lap. “promise me you’ll never take a bullet for me again! pinkie promise me!”
“i can’t make promises i can not keep, love…,” you smiled and knitted your ringer finger with his. “do you know what finger is this?”
“um…longer pinkie?”
“no,” you chuckled. “this is a ring finger, a ring is put in the right side for engagement and left for marriages.”
“then i will never have to lose you with our ring fingers attached,” he rest his forehead on yours.
“how could you lose me, when i see you,” you smiled and kissed his forehead.
“i see you too.”
today’s a great day to take care of yourself, 🤍
2K notes · View notes
lomlhwa · 2 months
Text
all american whore (e.s)
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pairing: step brother!eric x step sister!reader
preview: your dad has just married eric's mom. but, you're not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right?
tags/warnings: fem reader, handjob in the back of a car, oral (69 on the edge of a pool....), fingering, unprotected penetration (BOOOO), hickeys, breast slapping, pet names (angel, slut, cock whore), 4th of july celebration (and by celebration i mean orgasms for everyone), creampie
trigger warnings: STEPCEST!!!, like two mentions of reader having a dead mom
wc: 3.0k
song recs for this fic: american horror show by snow wife, all-american bitch by olivia rodrigo
a/n: i was so invested in writing this for like 4 days good lord
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“you could at least try and be a little excited, y/n. sure, you’re meeting my new wife and her son today, but it’s also the 4th of july. it’s a celebration,” your dad says to you while driving. “whoopty doo,” you say as sarcastically as possible. you can feel him glaring at you without even looking over at him. “i know you miss your mother, but it’s been over a decade, i’m moving on.”
you lean your head against the window, the air hanging heavy between you and your dad. “i’ll be nice to them but i can’t promise i’ll like them,” you say, turning to see your dad crack a small smile. “i think you will like them, pumpkin. just trust me,” you nod as he speaks. 
____________________________________
as your dad parks, nerves run through you. it’s finally hitting you that you’re meeting these people that your father intends to keep in your life forever. he walks up behind you and squeezes your shoulders. “you ready, kiddo?” he asks and you give him the most unconvincing nod ever. 
you walk up to the front door and knock loudly. “you’re here!” a woman cries out as she opens the door. you assume this is your dad’s wife. “hello honey, this is y/n,” your dad introduces you and you give an awkward wave. “come in, come in. eric is just upstairs playing his video games,” she ushers you in and shuts the front door behind her. “you guys can just head out to the backyard, that’s where everyone else is,” she walks over to the base of the stairs and angles her head upwards. “ERIC SOHN GET DOWN HERE,” she yells. 
you walk out to the large deck in the backyard with your dad and greet lots of people you’ve never met. you notice lots of things in the very large backyard. in-ground pool, hot tub, etc. your step-mom is rich. you settle yourself in a law chair by the pool with a spiked iced tea in hand. you’re soaking up the sun when you feel a presence next to you. you open your eyes and see a man standing there. “my mom told me i had to introduce myself to you. i’m eric,” he scratches the back of his neck and turns to yell to his mom on the deck. “happy now?” his mother shrugs. he walks away from you, clearly unhappy with your presence.
as the afternoon goes on, the family gathering becomes more lively. you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your legs in the water when eric comes to talk to you again. he slips his shoes off and plops down next to you. “here because your mom told you to?” you raise your eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. “no, i came to apologize. i’m sure you’re in the same boat as me with our parents' marriage,” he swings his legs, creating small waves in the water. you sigh, your shoulders slumping.
“you wanna go up to my room? it’s quieter and we could watch tv or something,” eric nods towards his house and you give him a small smile before getting your legs out of the pool. you grab your sandals and follow him close behind. “y/n and i are gonna hang out in my room for a bit,” eric tells his mom and she gives him a warm smile. “have fun, kids,” she says. she shoots your dad an excited look as you two walk into the house. 
as you settle into eric’s bed, you feel as though this is a very intimate space to be in with your step-brother. he puts on some brainrot show as background noise and sparks up a conversation with you. despite being invested in your conversation, you can tell there’s something else on his mind. the way his eyes dart between your own eyes and your lips brings butterflies to your stomach. 
eric snakes his hand onto your bare thigh, your shorts having ridden up from adjusting to sit comfortably in his bed. he strokes your skin with his thumb like it’s second nature. goosebumps rise in the wake of the soft movements from his thumb. you look at him with doll-like eyes and he can’t seem to get enough of your appearance. 
slowly, his hand snakes higher and higher before his fingers are teasing the stitching of your underwear. you can tell he wants to shove his hand in there and play with your wet heat. you know his fingers can feel how wet you’re getting. he shifts his arm a little bit so he can reach his pointer finger out to brush over your clothed clit. slowly, it gets harder for you to hold the conversation. 
eric leans over to whisper in your ear, despite the two of you being the only people in the room. “can i? please let me make you feel good” is all he says to you and you honestly can’t get your head to nod fast enough. you’re not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right? at your consent, he slips his fingers under the fabric of your panties and plays with your clit. small moans and whimpers escape your lips when he touches you. it feels amazing. his soft fingers on your skin lights your nerves on fire.
eric scooches closer to you so he can press kisses onto your jawline and neck. you tilt your head back on instinct, giving more access to the expanse of your throat. he slides his middle and pointer fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out slowly. your muscles clamp around his digits, desperate for more pleasure. “eric, oh my god,” you breathe out, your hand shooting down to hold his wrist while he fucks you. he holds your face with his other hand, making sure you’re looking at him while he fingers you.
your high creeps up on you as the tips of his fingers jab the gummy spot inside you. you arch your back as your walls throb around his fingers. “give it to me, y/n. i know you’re fucking close. cum for me,” he whispers in your ear again. you dig your nails into the skin of his wrist as you cum around his fingers. eric lets out a sinister laugh before pulling his fingers out of you. he brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks your release off of them. as you’re about to say something to him, you hear your dad’s voice. “y/n! it’s time to go home!”
____________________________________
for the next 3 days, all you can think about is eric. was what you did wrong or immoral? it can’t be. you’re not blood siblings. the only thing bonding you is your parents’ marriage. unfortunately for you, you can’t help but want more.
today must be your lucky day because your dad has some amazing news for you. “we’re going on a little shopping trip with eric and my wife today. do you wanna go there in separate cars or take one car?” your dad asks, leaning on your doorframe. “we can take one car, it’s fine with me. i’ll sit in the back with eric.” 
your dad gives you a warm grin, only happy that you’re getting along with your step-brother. he pulls out his phone to text his wife about your transportation decision. not even 10 minutes later, an suv pulls into your driveway. you rush to put your shoes on before climbing into the large backseat with eric. he pats the seat right next to him, despite the whole rest of the backseat being empty. happily, you oblige. the car is chilly and eric has a blanket over his lap.
it’s about a two hour drive to the biggest outlet mall near you. so you settle next to eric, watching a movie on the laptop he’d brought with him. about 20 minutes into the drive, you notice eric shifting around uncomfortably. you take a single glance down and you know exactly what’s wrong. he’s hard. so unbelievably hard. you can see it through the blanket.
“do you want my help?” you ask in a hushed voice. eric catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he nods. luckily, he decided to wear basketball shorts, so you have easy access. you pull the waistband of his shorts and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. you wrap your hand around it under the blanket and pump him slowly. he digs his teeth into his lip to suppress any sounds coming out. you run your thumb over the pink, dripping tip and he lets out a sigh. “you okay back there, hon?” his mom asks, seeming concerned. just as he’s about to open his mouth, you start pumping faster. “y-yeah, i’m so fine,” eric responds. his mom seems to accept this answer as she goes back to looking at her phone.
“the fuck is wrong with you?” he whispers aggressively. you give him a mischievous smile as your hand continues to work on him. you stroke him with firm, mildly swift motions. his hips buck to meet your hand’s movements and you can’t help but smile at his desperation. eric slides his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. he digs his fingers into the skin of your hip as his orgasm approaches. “right there, angel, fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as his cums, his hips stuttering. white ropes of cum paint your hand and forearm. as you bring your hand to your mouth to lick it clean, he shoves his cock back into his shorts. 
____________________________________
after your shopping trip, your parents drop you off at eric’s house. you walk into his empty house and plop down onto the couch. eric stands in the doorway of the living room, watching you. “you wanna swim?” he asks, nodding his head toward the back door. “i don’t have a bathing suit,” you reply, smirking at him. “swim in your underwear.” you shrug, not really minding the idea.
you rise from the couch, walking past eric towards the back door of his house. as you walk, you drop items of your clothes on the floor. first you drop your shirt, exposing your back and your black bra. next, your shorts. they left almost nothing to the imagination anyway. your black panties hug your hips and ass in a way that almost sends your step-brother into a frenzy. you peel your socks off last, throwing them into a corner. finally, you reach the pool. you dive in head first, drenching yourself head to toe. “you coming?” you call out to eric, who’s been a statue since you started stripping.
you can barely see him from the pool but you can tell he took his slides off and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. he comes darting out the door, diving into the pool the same way you did. when he comes back up, he flips his hair out of his face. you’re holding onto the edge of the pool and watch his movements. he swims over to you, halting in front of you. there’s a moment of silence between you before he grabs you by the back of the head and crashes your lips together.
eric kisses you like it might kill him if he doesn’t. the kiss is sloppy and full of saliva. he kisses you like he’s been poisoned and your lips are the only antidote. your hands travel to his exposed chest, digging your nails into his chest. he groans against your mouth and the sound goes straight to your core. you wrap your legs around his waist underwater and he kisses you harder. 
“i wanna fuck you, but not here. not now. let me taste you,” he whispers against your lips as if someone will hear you. you nod, but suddenly a better idea comes to your mind. “get out of the pool and lay on your back,” you instruct, also pulling yourself out of the pool. eric follows suit, doing what you told him to. you stand by his head and shimmy your wet panties off. you throw them onto the lawn before turning back to eric.
you put both feet beside eric’s head and lower yourself slowly, sitting on his face. his tongue almost immediately darts out to taste you and you fall forward, catching yourself with your hands on his hips. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your core further onto his face. with trembling hands, you push his shorts down his thighs. he lifts his hips to help you in sliding them off him. you lay your torso down and take his cock into your hands. you stroke it a couple times before spitting on the tip.
you take the first half of his cock into your mouth, already choking around it. he moans against your pussy, his hips bucking into your face. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly. your knees fight to squeeze around his head but you don’t let them. you stroke the portion of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to work an orgasm out of him. you bob your head up and down rhythmically. eric eases two fingers into you and they follow the same rhythm as your head. 
your orgasm creeps up on you faster than you would’ve liked it to, but you can tell he’s close too. you pull your mouth off of him to let out a high-pitched squeal when he curls his fingers inside you. “ah, fuck, i’m gonna cum,” you exclaim, clenching around his digits that are abusing your hole. “me too, angel,” eric replies. his voice is so husky and strained that it almost sends you over the edge. 
you manage to pump him a few more times before toppling over the edge. you shake above him, your thighs clamping down on his head. the noises you make as you cum send him into his orgasm. he releases onto your face and neck, causing you to flinch a little. you roll off of him, laying naked from the waist down on the warm concrete. when you sit up, you hear a car roll into the driveway. eric shoots up and give you an ‘oh shit’ look. you both bolt into the house, grab all your clothes and rush up the stairs. he barely closes his door before your parents open the front door. you can hear them talking and laughing about something but you’re too focused on how fast your heart is beating.
you collapse onto his floor, laughing about how close you were to getting caught. eric listens for the movement of your parents, trying to find out what they’re doing. relief washes over him when he hears them leave again. he turns to you to find that you’re moving to put your clothes on. “don’t you fucking dare.” he walks over to you and hooks his arms under yours, lifting you off the floor and onto his bed. you rest your body weight on your elbows and watch as he admires your body.
eric runs his hands up your thighs and spreads your legs for him. he pulls you so you’re almost hanging off the edge of his bed. “please, angel. let me fuck you. i need to know how that pretty fucking pussy feels,” it almost sounds like he’s begging you. your core throbs as he speaks. “please,” is all you can muster as a response. eric grabs the base of his cock, lining up with your wet hole. “god, you’re gonna be my fucking slut. right, angel? a whore for my, ngh, cock. gonna ruin you for everyone else. you’re only ever gonna want me” he shoves himself into the hilt before pausing.
your walls pulse around him, trying to adjust to his size. before you’re fully adjusted, he starts to thrust. his cock abuses your hole and it feels so fucking good. you wrap your legs around his waist as he uses you. “god, it’s like you were made for me. such a good cock whore. you’re taking me so well.” roughly, he pulls your bra down to expose your breasts. he slaps both of your breasts, leaving bright red marks. you cry out in pleasure, your back arching. “such a whore for your step-brother. what would your father say?” he teases. 
he leans down and connects his mouth with the plush skin of your breast. he sucks on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark. he continues the same motions a couple more times, leaving your chest riddled in his love bites. “you’re fucking mine. you hear me?” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “say it. say it and i’ll make my sweet angel cum.” the idea of finally cumming makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“fffuck eric, i’m yours. i’m all fucking yours,” you cry out. your orgasm is right there. “good fucking girl. so obedient,” he slaps your chest again, leaving a bright handprint. “where do you want me to cum?” eric asks as his thrusts speed up and become sloppy. “inside, inside, god please inside of me,” you beg, your pussy clamping down on him. he chuckles at your desperation. he connects his pointer finger with your clit, rubbing it in circles. “cum. cum for me right now, slut.”
the combination of his words, his motions on your clit and his cock abusing your wet cunt sends you crashing over the edge. you cry out loudly, a string of curses erupting from you. he quickly follows suit, spilling his seed into your weeping hole. you both rest for a few moments, feeling his cum seep out around his cock. you wipe sweat off your forehead before looking at him.
“we can never tell our parents.”
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© lomlhwa 2024
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bakubunny · 5 months
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twelve days of kinkmas: a little tradition (1)
part 2
a/n: starting the month with a little bakugo fluff. was gonna do aizawa smut first, but @neon-gothicc inspired this with her denki fic so here u go i hope u like it friend.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
prompt: mistletoe
tags: pro!bakusquad, mention of alcohol, katsuki has anxiety, shy!reader, first kiss
see the prompts and join the fun here
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If his plan didn’t work, Denki was a dead man. He knew that much. It was early December, and Eijiro and Mina were hosting the first holiday party of the year. After telling them his idea weeks ago when they’d announced the party, Mina had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Eijiro was all stupid romantic grins at the thought.
As the couple got decor in place, setting out food and drink for the event, Denki helped set up decorations by hanging things that were a little too high for Mina to reach on her own. When everything was ready and the clock struck seven, people slowly began trickling in as the party started.
Katsuki walked in the front door after Sero. He looked around the room, not noticing much at first. Then he saw it, and turned around to walk out. Sero grabbed him by the coat and pulled him back in.
“Oh, no Bakubro. You dipped on every holiday party last year. You’re staying,” he said.
Denki, the little fucker he is, hung a sprig of mistletoe over every single doorway in the apartment that Katsuki could see. The two blonde men locked eyes, one with a glare and the other a nervous smile.
Yeah, he was a dead man.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
You were in the main living area where most everyone was gathered aside from him and a few others playing a game of some kind, looking like a dream, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the pretty red nail polish that complimented your outfit. It resonated in his head, the way you laughed so genuinely at every one of Sero’s stupid jokes as you sat near him. He felt like he was going to be sick. At some point, Katsuki caught your eyes glancing at the doorways once you’d noticed the first one, but you’d seemed unphased.
Of course she doesn’t care, you fucking idiot, he thought. You’re the only one who’s bothered by it.
As the night dwindled on, every once in a while people would “follow tradition,” giving chaste kisses to their significant other.
He’d hardly spent time with you at all. Truthfully, he didn’t have the courage to.
You’d been on his mind for years, little bits of banter going back and forth as you worked at the front desk of the agency. But he never had the courage to ask you out on a date. It felt stupid; Katsuki had all the confidence and smooth talk in the world when he’d first become a hero, knew just what to say to charm the pants off of any person he wanted to fuck. Then he met you three years ago, and it all came to a screeching halt. His stomach got tight, his mouth went dry. He’d fumble things in his hands for no reason, feel his cheeks heat up whenever you spoke to him. He fucking hated it. His friends never shut up on it, either.
Katsuki noticed there was no one in the main entryway to the dining room where snacks and drinks were displayed, so he took his chance and managed to get through the entrance and then to the bathroom unscathed. He slumped down onto the toilet and started at the floor for a long moment. Red, tired eyes looked back at him when he got up to wash his hands.
“I should just fucking leave. Don’t wanna be here anyway,” he mumbled to himself.
Another knot tightly wound itself in his gut.
It was too loud. Everyone was getting drunk. And tonight, he just didn’t care. He knew his friends must have something up their sleeve, convinced that he gives a single fuck about you when he’s told them time and again that, no, he doesn’t. That they need to butt the hell out of his love life. Because if he were to admit to them that he did, they’d only get worse.
Katsuki also knew that if he ended up under the mistletoe with you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
“Just talk to him, honey!” Mina said quietly with a smile. “Or go take his seat. That’ll start something.”
Your face flared with heat; you’d been debating on approaching Katsuki all night. He looked miserable sitting across the room, but was engaged in other conversation for the most part.
“No, you’re crazy,” you replied.
You stood up and went to grab a glass of water from the dining area. Denki called out as you walked away.
“Hey, wait, can you get me-”
You ran into a wall of muscle with your head turned back to look the other way. Katsuki stood in front of you seemingly dumbfounded and not having noticed you either.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!”
“‘S fine, you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Kiiiiiss,” Sero shouted from across the room.
“Yeah, it’s tradition. You have to, bad luck if you don’t,” Denki quipped.
One look up and sure enough, you were smack under the entryway.
You stepped back with a nervous laugh and met Katsuki’s gaze. “N-no, it’s okay.”
“C’mon, just a little peck,” Eijiro said.
Katsuki watched your cheeks flush, and the words came out of his idiot mouth before he could stop them.
“Dunceface is right, y’know. Tradition’s tradition,” he mumbled.
With a smile and a sigh, you relented. You pushed onto your toes to reach Katsuki’s cheek and kissed him. As you pulled away, two large hands grabbed your face. Katsuki kissed you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
The sudden uproar of noise in the room faded in Katsuki’s head as he kissed you once, twice, and again. His heart hammered in his chest. By the second and third one, you were kissing him back. He almost couldn’t believe it.
For once, he thought, Dunceface had a pretty good idea.
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sorry i forgot to add the tag list 🤦‍♀️
if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡
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luna-lovegreat · 4 months
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It's all "links meet aus" and "zeldas meet aus", but where's my "companions meet aus"?
I wanna see midna bash fi and navis heads together for annoying her
I mean can you imagine the sheer chaos of all the Zelda companions meeting and going on a journey together? They're all companions/guides! One of thems a talking hat for hylias sake how are they supposed to take initiative?
I think it'd be like Lu where they all just meet up, but can you imagine the chain just somehow finds out this happened (and twilight is just like guys I am so sorry about midna) (but they're also really oddly touched that all their friends met each other too)
Pretty sure midna would be the sort of leader, since the last time she was in a foreign world she just found the nearest dude and started ordering him around. By like halfway through twilight princess she was literally asking LINK to accompany her to get what she needed.
But like. 90% of the group would be fairies. Which can't heal. One is a talking hat who just needs a head? He can't go on midnas cause she throws him off with her magic hair, poor ezlo is just trying to keep up.
They also have these weird green shadows who come around? They don't talk, but there's a rock, a fish, a bird, and a lady who just appear and stab things and shoot wind water fire and lightning.
Also midnas really confused why wolf link just shows up and kills things every now and then (from botw amibo)
Fi is the one who can talk to Hylia and awaken memories and get guidance and information or whatever, but she only does this by ballerina dancing and the others are always pissed at her anyways "WE DONT KNOW WHAT BATTERIES ARE OR A WII REMOTE WILL YOU PLEASE GO BACK IN SWORD FORM ALREADY" "I detect there is a 90% chance you need a key to open this door" "wow. Your perception is unparalleled fi."
Also there's a boat. A boat. Who is also good at taking charging since he's a king, which causes some friction between him and midna, since she has to grab him by her hair to move him half the time.
And with the fairies. Again. They all offer advice mainly. And with the fairies a lot of their main role is speaking and getting attention and pitching in? They come on an intersection and there's a chorus of bells all shouting the same directions. Ezlo is trying to cover the kings ears from his place on the boats head
Also there's this ghost/spirit of Zelda that everyone just feels REALLY strong loyalty to. But she's just like this kid who wants her body back?! They try to protect her but she can turn into a purple knight and stab things so there's that. I think there's also some animal companions from ooa/oos so.
Side quests are nonexistent they don't care about a village or gathering frogs for a kid they are there to save the world on a mission linear plot it is
And it's interesting because you have so many of them who just vanish and then appear to give loud advice. All at once. And the fighting skills basically fall to those weird green shadows that shoot various elements and fight and randomly disappear. Midna and spirit Zelda can fight, and Fi can too (kind of like how she fights as a sword in hyrule warriors). Also up to you if midna is drop dead gorgeous or devilish imp.
By the end they find whatever enemy so they can go back and midna is so pissed by this point that she hears the word "batteries" from Fi and goes full on fused shadow and just obliterates the jerk
***I have not played all the games so do not know or understand all of the companions and probably got some stuff wrong
Bonus: there is a child in a village named Link who does not have the spirit of the hero. He is stalked for three days until Fi decides his vibes are off and they all stop telling him he's the chosen one
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b-o-e · 11 months
Text
alone with you, take two
Wally Darling x Reader
Warnings: jealous wally, frustrating neighbours, mwah mwah kissy smooches!!
although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #11 :)
Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.
“Hun, would you mind helping me with these treats please?”
Your attention was drawn away from Wally, once again. 
It was a Friday night, and the neighbourhood was gathered for their weekly get together, of course. Lots of eating, game playing, and mingling going on.
You left Wally’s side, assuring him you would be right back, off to assist Poppy with whatever it was she needed.
Wally blew out an irritated huff.
And this get together seemed to mean he barely got to steal any of you for himself.
Everyone was taking you left and right. ‘Hey, come play a game with us!’ ‘Would you help me set these up?’ ‘Come take a look at this!’ No matter what, it was one thing or another, back to back to back.
Now, despite having quite a way with words, Wally still didn’t know how to use them, at times.
Occasionally, he didn’t know how to ask for things, particularly when it comes to a new challenge he's unsure of how to approach. He just… didn’t. So, what would he do instead?
He would stare.
And he would stare.
And he would stare.
He would stare, until the other person picked up on his silent plea for assistance. Or, until it will have been long enough where he figures it out himself.
This was the predicament you were in now. Although, unfortunately for Wally, you were still yet to notice you were in any sort of predicament at all.
He wasn’t sure how long it had been. He almost couldn’t complain, because it provided an extra good excuse to look at you. At the same time, he was getting frustrated, because how haven’t you realized yet? 
Well, actually, maybe you had. But, whenever it seemed like you were going to inquire, someone stole your attention away, which would irk Wally just a little bit more.
It’s happened multiple times now. By just about everyone. Twice, by most! Were they doing it on purpose, at this point? Wally was beginning to question.
For now, Wally watched and waited. And watched and waited. And watched and waited. Until finally, you were finished helping Poppy and on your way back over to him. So, he seized his opportunity.
“Would you—” he began, only to be cut off.
“Hey pipsqueak! Come play a quick round with Eddie n I!” 
If looks could kill, Barnaby would’ve been dead where he stood.
“Deal me in, too!” Howdy raised a hand, making his way over to the table, stretching his other arms and cracking his knuckles with confidence.
“Do you get one or two hands, with two sets of arms?”
“Actually,” you glanced at Wally, looking over at the group again. “Give him two! He can play for me, I’ll hop in later,” 
“Which hand do you wanna be, kiddo?”
“Uh… top? Cause I’m on top, y’know?”
Howdy sniggered.
“Okay, I’ll give you the bottom hand.”
“Jeez. Ask me for my fancy, just to ignore it,” you clicked your tongue in amusement, looking at Wally. He gazed back at you, eyes hopeful. Was he finally getting your attention? All to himself? “What did you want to say, sorry?”
Wally sighed with relief. Finally!
“Would you li–”
“Starlight! Won’t you come join Julie and I’s game?” Sally called out to you.
Nope.
Wally had it.
As you opened your mouth to reply, Wally took you by the hand, answering for you.
“Later.”
His tone was sharp and curt as he stormed toward the door, leading you behind him.
No more distractions.
Wally pulled you along, pausing briefly at the exit and looking at you, ensuring you were fine with this. Your eyes met his, and although surprised and confused, you understood the silent question and gave him a nod to go on.
The two of you stepped outside, walking briskly into the cool night. A sigh of relief left Wally, glad to finally be away from his beloved although slightly infuriating neighbours. When he decided the two of you had wandered far enough, he slowed his pace, sucking in a breath of the refreshing air. He looked at you to apologize for being so brash, only to pause.
You were staring at him, a grin growing on your face.
“Is this what I think it is?” you questioned him. His brows furrowed in puzzlement.
“Were you getting jealous in there, Wally?”
He gaped at the accusation. Jealous? Him? He opened his mouth to shut it down, only to hesitate.
Was he jealous?
His cheeks heated as realization hit him. He gaped like a fish, trying to think of a reasonable defense for himself, to no avail.
“... they were doing it on purpose,” he could only claim, deflating. 
“They were being quite rude, weren’t they?” you empathized with a giggle. “I’m sorry,”
“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, sure of that much. “But they kept pulling you away, this way and that way. I think that I was deserving of a turn,”
“Well, no matter, now we are alone,” you smiled. “No more interruptions. What would you like, Wally?” you asked him.
He blanked.
Right.
The reason he wanted your attention in the first place.
Wally’s head dipped down shyly, his fingers gently toying with your own.
How does he say it?
He returned his gaze back to your eyes. You were waiting patiently for him to speak. No rush at all. You never did.
“I wanted to step outside with you,” he said, speaking slow as he took the time to figure out his words.
“I wanted to spend some time away, just you and I,” he continued. “Everyone was demanding your attention, but I wanted some for myself. That sounds quite selfish now that I say it out loud, doesn’t it?” He mumbled.
“I don’t think you’re being selfish at all,” you begged to differ. “I think that you have a right to desire some extra attention from me. We are together, after all. And, that being said, you are my top priority,” 
“As you are mine,” Wally nodded, giving your hand a squeeze.
“So, you just wanted to spend some time together?” You hummed softly, smiling at him. “I always quite like that idea,”
“Well, not quite…” he trailed along sheepishly, looking down at your interlocked hands.
“What would that be, Darling?”
“I wanted to kiss you,” he admitted.
“To kiss me?”
He nodded.
“Well, why don’t you, then?”
He peeked up at you.
“... might I?”
“Of course,” you giggled. 
“… now I’m nervous,” he uttered bashfully, gazing downward as he shyly rubbed the back of his neck. You grinned in amusement, leaning closer to him.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” You whispered, placing your finger under his chin to redirect his attention to you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, gazing into yours as he licked his dry lips.
“Please?” He murmured out. 
With a smile, you tilted his chin up a bit more, closing the gap between you and pressing your lips to his in a sweet, short kiss. He went a little rigid before he relaxed into it, though he didn’t have quite enough time to reciprocate before you moved to break the kiss. 
As you began to pull away, his hand found the side of your neck, not ready for you to leave just yet. He led you back in before you went too far, his lips met yours once again, bringing you in for another kiss, slow and loving.
Moments later, Wally pulled away, more content this time. He gazed at you, any hint of his prior frustration nowhere to be seen anymore, nothing but a look of fondness left remaining in his eyes. He studied you, from your flushed cheeks to your small smile, meeting your equally love filled eyes.
“Are you satisfied now?” You asked with a light teasing tone, rubbing at your warm cheek as if it would make your embarrassed blush fade away. Wally clicked his tongue, glancing towards the noisy home down the way.
“Mmm, I’m not sure…” he hummed with a playful tone, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes.  “I think that I deserve you for some time more. How does another kiss sound to you? Then, maybe I’ll be satisfied,”
hi! hello! did i scare you? i'm back from the dead to offer you this! i hope that you enjoyed! burnout is real, bahaha! if you are new, i have some other fics along these lines you can read as well!
here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!
also!!! ART!!! people made art based on my fics!!! MIND BLOWING!!! check them out, super duper cool!
@leon-dechino created this one and this one! SO cool, mind boggling, makes me so happy gavhxsah
@sunkyss created this one! AHHH! so wild man, i still can't believe it bahaha! i highly suggest you check both of them out! they have so many cool works on top of these!
alas! 'tis all for now! i hope to see you soon! MWAH! until next time <3
Posted Wednesday, June 7, 2023 at 2:07 PM
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sophswritingthings · 5 months
Note
How would you think mizu would react to a single mother, I Dunno, something like smReader took in injured mizu wnd took care of her after that. Was just caring and trying to help mizu
It's random idk
pairing: mizu x single mother!fem!reader
warning(s): swearing, mentions of injury + blood
a/n: I feel like she would react rather well. because her mother was technically a single mother, though not a good one - so she’d be like “oh. so they can be good”
summary: after waking up in a strange cabin, mizu meets you. a young woman her age, a baby cradled in her arms.
word count: 497 words / 2,673 characters
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mizu groaned, sitting up on the mat she was laid on.
“you’re awake.”
she’s met with a voice. a soft, sweet caring voice. she glanced behind her, seeming skeptical.
but all she’s met with was a sweet and caring face of a woman. the woman had a baby cradled in her arms, her head cocked a little as mizu stared at her.
“do you not remember..? oh, who am I kidding, of course you don’t,” you chuckle, settling down beside her. she gazed at you with a confused expression, glancing at your child for a moment. “(y/n) (l/n). I found you, bleeding and passed out in the snow. I took you in.”
she nodded a little.
“.. thank you,” she rasped.
“I didn’t want to leave you for dead. It’s the least I could do, sir,” you bow your head, feeling your child shift a little. “oh, little one, it’s okay..”
she watches as you tend to your child. your touch was so gentle, it was so..
.. kind.
it never occurred to her a mother could treat her child this way. at least, not from what she experienced with her mother. but that had different circumstances, didn’t it?
“I’m sorry—I’ll bring you food in a moment, I have to put him down.”
she nods as you gather to your feet. you leave the room for a moment, coming back with food and no child. he must be with your husband, then.
“here you go,” you set the food down in front of her.
she thanks you quietly, grabbing the bowl and beginning to eat.
“your eyes, sir.. may I assume you are half-white?”
the words make her twitch.
“yes,” she whispers. “my father was a white man.”
you nod, not seeming unsettled by the fact, “I see,” you reply. “and you are a traveling samurai, yes?”
“I am,” she says in between mouthfuls.
“headed to kyoto, hmm?” you hum, “based on where you are, I could only assume so.”
“yes. kyoto.” she replies again, “do you live here with your husband? where is he?”
“ah..” you sigh, “I don’t have a husband.”
she gazed at you, confused out of her mind. a child, but no husband.
“I raise my child alone—he wasn’t.. planned. I worked at a brothel and.. well..” you chuckle, “but I don’t regret him. I love him with all my heart.”
“.. hmph,” she adverted eye-contact. “that’s.. interesting.”
“yes—I suppose it is,” you laugh. “In this world, anyway.”
“it’s respectable, though. raising your child alone, with no help,” she muttered. “you are someone to respect.”
you blush a little, “thank you, sir.”
“sure,” she murmured.
“so.. when you are healed fully, will you continue on your way?” you cock your head.
she adverts her gaze again, “I could stay, a little,” she replies, suddenly making eye-contact. “repay you for your help.”
“oh, you don’t—“
“allow me,” she kisses your hand softly. “please.”
“o-okay,” you clear your throat. “you can stay for a little.”
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a/n: she’s like. “oh. moms can be good people? who woulda thunk it!”
209 notes · View notes
hopelessromantic5 · 3 months
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Merthur Drabble
Essentially, Gwen and Arthur have told everyone they're in love when really they both have feelings for people they assume they could never have.
Merlin had never run so fast in his life.
He was dodging worried looks from other servants in the halls, ducking under strings of garland being hung in the corridors and accidentally knocking trays to the ground but not having the time to apologize.
He ran so fast his lungs were having trouble catching up.
He’s running because something is wrong.
He was in the Great Hall with George, finishing preparations for the ‘big feast’ in honor of the ‘big news’.
He’d just finalized the food when he felt it.
Something deep in his chest caved inward. Forming a dark hole.
And he heard it. His own name being shouted by that voice, almost exactly the same as he’d heard it a million other times, but this one was panicked, scared.
It came from nowhere near him, it may not even have been a real noise. But it echoed in the manservant’s mind.
It was his King.
Something was wrong.
He ran before he could even think twice, dropping the lists, trusting George to gather them.
Oh gods, what is it? Is he dead? Please don’t let him be dead.
He’d never felt anything so hollow before. He knew it was Arthur, but he didn’t know what could’ve caused this damage in his own castle with Merlin’s own wards (unknowingly) protecting every square inch of the keep.
Merlin arrived at the right corridor gasping for air, but not stopping.
The door to the king’s chambers remained open, the manservant halted before he approached as he heard voices.
Arthur and Gwen.
“Shouldn’t they be more…I don’t know…bright. Happy.” That was Arthur.
“Arthur, every wedding that’s been held here for the last century was bathed in red and white. It’s tradition.” She scoffed a little but even Merlin could hear the sweet smile she accompanied with it.
“Of course.” Arthur trailed off, distantly. The deep dark feeling tugged at Merlin’s chest again, so hard that he had to close the few feet between he and the King’s chambers. If only to ensure that Arthur was, in fact, alright.
Merlin stood in the doorway, finally seeing Gwen at the desk, sorting through papers (the ones Merlin had just organized the way Arthur wanted them last week) and Arthur standing by the cupboard, leaning against it, more like.
The King was already staring at the open door when Merlin walked in front of it.
Their eyes met, and all at once the feeling in Merlin's chest dulled to a small ache. Closing up, for now, but still throbbing like a bruise.
Arthur sent him a small smile before blanking his face and officially greeting him.
“Merlin.” Causing Gwen to look up too.
“Oh, hi Merlin! How is everything coming along?”
The manservant finally forced himself to move into the room but only a few feet.
“The preparations are nearly finished.” He gave her a small bow of his head and a forced quirk of his lips. Still feeling odd and uneasy.
Arthur seemed to sense it, or maybe Merlin has that look on his face because Arthur asks with the most sincerity Merlin thinks he’s ever heard from him,
“Is there something you need?”
No venom, no insults lurking just behind. He was genuinely asking if Merlin needed anything.
“No, sire.” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed before continuing. “It’s just…you didn’t call for me, did you? Just a few moments ago?”
Arthur mirrored his expression of pinched brows.
“No, I didn’t.” He shook his own gorgeous blonde head, chewing his lip in thought, but still watching Merlin with worry. “Why?”
“Nothing, honestly. Just thought I heard…” Merlin shook his head again to clear his mind of the thoughts, nearly giving himself a headache, and went to leave. “It was nothing, sire. Must’ve been my imagination.”
“It does have a tendency to get carried away.” Arthurs idea of a joke.
“Very funny, your majesty.” He answers dryly reaching for the doorknob. “Honestly, can’t believe it took you this long to find someone to marry you with that sense of humor.”
Gwen thought this comical and laughed, however neither Arthur nor Merlin laughed at his joke.
Both were out of sorts; Merlin didn't know Arthur's reasons in the slightest. With his wedding in a fortnight, the King should be ecstatic. Merlin should be ecstatic for him. And yet, here they both were. Not laughing.
When Merlin turned back, once more, to find Arthur’s eyes on him, with that indiscernible look, he forced himself to go. So that his imagination would taunt him no longer.
208 notes · View notes
prythianpages · 6 months
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ACOSM | The Night she made Azriel lose control
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azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)
warnings: angst, smut or at least my attempt at it lol
summary: Valeria is sparring with Cassian and Azriel when Rhysand invites her to the gathering of the High Lords of Prythian. The night is tortorous for Azriel, who can no longer hold himself back and finally gives in to his desire.
A/N: this is an imagine among my collection that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. This is my first time writing smut, which is why this took me forever to write. I even readchapter 55 of ACOMAF a couple of times again for "research purposes" lol Anyway, besides the smut, lots of stuff happen in this imagine and more ACOTAR characters make an appearance!
**
Valeria sat atop one of the training rings at the House of Wind as Noctis soared gracefully above her. In the brilliant sunlight, his dark wings glistened–a testament to his swift and powerful recovery. A radiant smile grazed her face, finding joy to see him whole and soaring once more.  
She hummed a familiar melody and Noctis was quick to catch the tune. His hauntingly beautiful song intertwined with hers. Setting aside the book Cassian had gifted her on Illyrian fighting techniques, Valeria perked up at the sound of wings beating the air.
It had been nearly half a year since the blood rite and Rhysand’s grand ball and so much had changed in that time. The news of two bastards and a half breed ascending to the title of Carynthian had sent shockwaves throughout Illyria, and perhaps even throughout most of Prythian. The revelation that both Cassian and Azriel were gifted with seven siphons each only added to the astonishment. Rhysand, too, had been gifted with siphons, though they had shattered, unable to contain his immense power.
Shortly after the grand ball, Cassian had returned to the Illyrian camp he was born, eager to reunite with his mother. Their separation had weighed heavily on his heart over the years and he had been looking forward to seeing her and taking care of her. However, when he arrived at the camp, he was met with devastating news. His mother was dead. The news had hit him like a physical blow and even more so when he found out the true nature of her death and lack of respect in burial. It left him reeling with an overwhelming grief and sorrow that morphed into anger and a thirst of revenge. With the help of Rhysand and Azriel, they took revenge on his mother’s cruel death and destroyed the village, allowing only the truly innocent to live. 
The High Lord of the Night Court did not take lightly to the actions of the three powerful Illyrian males. Valeria suspected that the remarkable power the three males held posed a potential threat to her father. In the weeks that followed, the High Lord assigned Rhysand a growing number of responsibilities as his designated heir. He offered Azriel the role of spymaster–a proposition that didn’t leave him with much room for refusal. Cassian, on the other hand, had returned to Windhaven, and swiftly climbed the ranks, now commanding a small legion of his own.
With all the changes and increased duties, it came to a surprise to Valeria that Cassian remembered the promise he had made prior to the blood rite. She had diligently studied the book he had gifted her, mastering nearly every technique within its pages. She still did so behind her father’s back. It was not an easy task as he hovered over her for the first couple of weeks after her return to the Night Court. This made it challenging to discreetly train with the Valkyries as she enjoyed doing so. 
So Valeria dedicated herself to playing the role of a dutiful daughter with the hopes that it would divert her father’s attention from her training and secrets she held. It was a difficult one as he still held resentment toward her. She immersed herself in music, spending countless hours practicing her violin despite her preference for the piano. It paid off, as her father’s interest in her began to wane and as she resumed her violin lessons, she found it increasingly easier to slip away for her secret training sessions.
“Alright, little warrior.” Cassian grinned as he touched down in front of her, his wings tucked behind him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Valeria smiled back at him, her eyes searching his face. She knew the past couple of months had been challenging for him yet he always managed a smile and optimistic attitude, masking the underlying sadness and grief he carried. He was one of the strongest people she knew–both physically and mentally.
“I didn’t get to train last week since I had an audition for a violin solo, so I’m a little rusty.” Valeria confessed as she patted the dust off her leathers.
“Did you get it?”
A spark of triumph gleamed in her eyes as she replied. “Of course I did.” 
Cassian’s grin grew wider. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to push you harder this morning.”
The training grounds were bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun as Cassian and Valeria stepped onto the training ring. She looked up to him with determination in her eyes and Cassian respected her spirit as he began to wrap his hands. “Let’s practice without weapons first and focus on hand to hand combat which is about…”
“Control, balance and swift strikes.” Valeria answered, reciting an excerpt from the book word for word and wrapping her own hands to prepare for sparring.
“Yes.” Cassian nodded at her, impressed as he stepped into a defensive stance. “Watch me closely and then we’ll practice together.”
He demonstrated a sequence of moves, fluidly shifting from one stand to another, showcasing the elegance and power of combat. Valeria followed his every move, memorizing the steps.
“I know you’ve already had some training with this but let’s start with the basics again. I’m going to make a move and you try to block or evade it.”
Cassian then made the first move, a precise jab toward her shoulder. Valeria reacted quickly, dodging the blow with ease and responding with a counterpunch. Cassian deftly blocked her attack, impressed with her reflexes.
“Good.” Cassian said with another nod of approval. “Keep that focus and speed.”
They continued the training session as Noctis watched, perched on one of the punching dummies nearby, his sharp eyes on his beloved keeper. As always, Cassian was patient in training Valeria. He showed her how to anticipate her opponent’s moves, find openings in their defenses and land precise strikes. Valeria was a quick learner and with each round of practice, her confidence grew.
As they exchanged blows, Valeria saw an opportunity. Her speed and precision was nearly overwhelming, catching the seasoned Illyrian warrior by surprise for a faltering moment. Just when it seemed like Valeria was gaining the upper hand, he intentionally left himself open. Valeria, driven by the thrill of the movement, lunged forward with a powerful punch. Her first met its target but Cassian, with a wly grin, grabbed her arm and twisted, sending her tumbling to the ground.
She landed on her back with a huff, her chest heaving from exertion.
“Never underestimate your opponent.”
Cassian’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down at her. She was already drenched in sweat, her muscles aching and struggling to catch her breath. He held his hand out toward her which she begrudgingly took. He did not look nearly as winded as her.
 “Now, get up, my little warrior. We’re not done quite yet.”
“Not done?” Valeria echoed in dramatic horror.
Valeria’s senses were thrown into a whirlwind of surprise. Another voice, one she hadn’t heard in weeks, broke through the moment.
“It’s my turn now.”
Valeria’s head whipped around, feeling dizzy for a moment, but her eyes quickly found their way to the hazel ones she had missed so dearly. Azriel. 
He was also dressed in his Illyrian leathers, his cobalt blue siphons casting a soft, enchanting glow. His presence, as always, was a compelling blend of mystery and allure, making her heart flutter. The longing she felt for his company was undeniable.  She hadn’t seen him in weeks as he was preoccupied with the duties her father assigned to him and if it wasn’t the High Lord calling upon him, it was Rhysand, leaving little room for private moments together.
Cassian and Azriel exchanged nods in silent greeting. Azriel then turned to her, his lips curving into a teasing smirk. His eyes raked over her form as his shadows swirled around him in excitement and his large wings unfurled behind him. He looked at her with a mixture of pride, protectiveness and a hint of longing.
She felt like he was undressing her with his eyes.
“Cauldron boil me,” Valeria cursed under her breath.
Cassian chuckled. Azriel maintained his composed demeanor and gaze fixed on her, his smirk remaining unfaltering. He, too, had likely heard her choice of words and judging by the way his shadows whirled around him, he must’ve sensed the hidden meaning behind them.
He finally took his eyes off of her as he approached the weapons vault. “Where are you in your training with the Valkyries?”
Valeria considered the question for a moment before replying, "We've moved on to sparring with actual weapons."
Azriel's hazel eyes lit up with interest as he selected two swords from the vault, flinging one of them toward her. Valeria caught it with ease, though with a slight frown.
She much preferred daintier weapons such as a dagger or her whip. Zeila, her valkyrie trainer, had rewarded her with the elegant rope-like weapon for her remarkable progress. Crafted from pure silver and adorned with moonstone gems, it matched the necklace around her neck. At first glance, it appeared delicate, but when the moonstone gems were ignited by her power, it became a formidable tool capable of burning through those who dared to cross her. Valeria had glamored the whip to resemble a wrap-around bracelet when not in use and it currently shimmered brilliantly under the sunlight.
Azriel and Valeria stood facing each other, a palpable tension filling the air as Cassian sat on a bench nearby and watched. Much to his dismay, Noctis made himself comfortable atop of his head.
Valeria was the first to make a move, moving with a fluidity that was both elegant and powerful. As they sparred, Valeria demonstrated her newfound skills, seamlessly combining the precise strikes of the Valkyries with the fierce, aggressive style of the Illyrians. Azriel observed with growing admiration, impressed by her quick adaptation and her ability to execute the intricate maneuvers. Their swords clashed, the sound ringing through the rooftop, and with a deft flick of his wrist, he managed to disarm Valeria. His experience and training outmatched hers but Valeria was not one to give up easily. 
In a swift and practiced motion, she extended her arm, bringing the rope-like weapon to life. Azriel’s eyes widened for a flickering moment as he readied his sword but Valeria was too fast for him. Within seconds, her whip wrapped around Azriel’s wrist, forcing him to release his sword, the sharp piece of steel clattering to the ground. She grinned triumphantly as Cassian whistled in approval.
Azriel stumbled back, momentarily disarmed, until he saw an opportunity and seized it. He took advantage of the weapon wrapped around his wrist and pulled on it, throwing her off balance, sending Valeria stumbling forward. She was not able to catch her footing on time and both her and Azriel tumbled onto the ground. Azriel swiftly gained the  upper hand, pinning both her wrists by her head as he straddled her.
“I got you.” He smirked down at her.
With a mischievous glint in her violet eyes, Valeria shifted her hips up and wrapped her arms around his torso the best she could. She trapped his legs with her own and mustered up all the strength she could to roll over just as Cassian had taught her. In a sudden and skillful maneuver, she found herself hovering over Azriel, her dagger that had been attached to her thigh now pressed against his neck.
“Never underestimate your opponent.” Valeria said, her voice breathless but triumphant, echoing Cassian’s early words.
Azriel blinked back up at her, his pupils dilated. His gaze flickered down to her lips before locking with her gaze. Blood rushed up to her cheeks as she remembered the last time she had straddled him. It seemed so long ago and just as it had before they shared their first kiss, the world around them faded into the background, leaving just the two of them. She dared to lean down–
A boisterous laugh shattered their trance, snapping them back to reality.
Valeria removed herself from Azriel. He was the first to get up, offering his scarred hand to her. His shadows slithered down his arms and toward her, reaching out to caress her face in a way he yearned to himself as he pulled her up with him. They turned to an amused Cassian who offered a round of applause for Valeria.
“I’m so proud of you.” He told her. “Keep it up and you’ll be a Valkyrie in no time.”
Valeria’s heart swelled. “You really think they’d let me in?”
“Of course.” It was Azriel who replied.
She was smiling at the two formidable Illyrian warriors when she felt a gentle talon caress her mind. She allowed her brother in, who wanted to know where she was. Her smile fell and the two males looked at her in concern.
“Rhys is coming,” she said in warning at the same time she gave her brother her location.
With practiced ease, Valeria used her powers to glamor and remove the telltale signs of her recent training session–the sweat-soaked training gear and leathers were replaced with a simple black dress.  Noctis returned to his usual place on her shoulder. She had just enough time to glamor Cassian and Azriel as well to paint out the illusion of them sparring.
Rhysand was still unaware of her extensive training as she had sworn both males to secrecy. While her brother did keep his promise in teaching her how to use the dagger they all gifted her, it was nowhere near enough to explain the advanced skills she had just displayed. 
Azriel glanced down at his shirtless body and arched an eyebrow at her. A devious glint flickered in her eye as she smirked back at him with an appreciative gaze. The tattoos adorning his upper body, a mark of his emergence as a true warrior from the Blood Rite, were a sight to behold. She wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to kiss them as she dangerously trailed her way down…
Cassian seemed to be unfazed by his shirtless form, picking up the sword Valeria had been using, eager to get into character.
Rhysand emerged from a cloud of swirling darkness. He smiled fondly at Valeria in greeting before acknowledging his two closest friends. “I didn’t know you two were sparring today,” he commented, his tone lighthearted.
Cassian responded with a cheeky grin, "Just releasing some pent-up frustration, Rhys." He turned to Azriel, a cryptic look in his eyes, sensing something in the Shadowsinger he was strangely familiar with. "Right, Az?"
Azriel glared at him. "I'm sure Cass still has energy."
Rhysand chose to brush off their strange behavior, not wanting to delve into it further. "It's alright," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm actually here for Val."
Valeria turned to him, her curiosity piqued.
"I need you to be ready by dinner. The High Lords are gathering at the Moonstone Palace for dinner, and Father requests our presence."
Valeria's eyes narrowed as she met her brother's gaze. She had her doubts that it was truly her father who had called for her presence, and judging by Rhysand's cheeky grin, she knew he had played a role in her being allowed to attend. Despite her skepticism, she nodded in agreement.
"I'll be ready."
**
The dinner among the High Lords of Pyrthian, their families and entourage was uneventful save for the mention of growing unrest between the mortals and fae. There were reports of some fae enslaving mortals–a matter that had drawn the attention of the High Lords.
Surprisingly, the High Lord of the Night Court appeared indifferent to Valeria’s presence at the dinner. A small victory.
Though she couldn't shake the feeling of being the odd one out as she was the only daughter to a High Lord present. She was grateful for Rhysand and Azriel, who sat on either side of her as Noctis–her usual companion–had to stay behind. Cerridwen and Nuala offered to take care of him for the night. The two males beside her watched over her, their protective presence enough to deter any unwarranted attention from the other attendees, especially the eldest sons of the Autumn and Spring court. Mor and her family were also present at the dinner, the first offering Valeria a sense of familiarity and warmth, but unfortunately, she sat far from her.
As the dinner came to a close, her mother, who sat across from her, sent Valeria a reassuring smile. With the main meal completed, the guests began to disperse into smaller groups, with alcohol and light desserts served for those who remained. Valeria took a moment to collect herself, her violin resting on a soft chair nearby. She picked it up and positioned it with care, knowing that her presence at the dinner came at a cost – the entertainment she could provide with her violin.
With a sigh, she began to play, the graceful notes of her violin filling the room and carrying a sense of melancholy and beauty. The Night Court’s orchestra arrived, a couple of songs later, providing a welcome respite. She smiled at them in greeting and they regarded her warmly, having grown fond of her over the past six months.
“That was excellent.” A voice praised.
Valeria looked up, eyes widening as they landed on the High Lord of the Dawn Court. Thesan. His aura radiated a warm golden glow, his brown skin and hair kissed with the permanent brilliance of sunrise. 
“You’ve grown into a wonderful young lady.” His gaze was warm as he regarded her. He remembered the last time he had seen her, when she was just six years old.
 Valeria recalled the memory clearly as it had been a slightly embarrassing incident when she had injured herself after chasing Rhysand around. He had snatched the last lemon cake and laughed in her face. Thesan had been the one to heal her injured elbow with a gentle touch while her father glared at her. She wondered if her father had also been embarrassed by her behavior that night as she hadn’t been allowed to attend a High Lord gathering until tonight.
“Thank you.” Valeria replied, her head bowed in appreciation.
“I’m sure your father is proud.” Thesan added, casting a meaningful glance toward her father, who had now joined them.
His gaze, though still somewhat distant, was not as cold as he regarded his daughter.
“She has an upcoming solo in a month.”
Valeria blinked at her father, surprise etched on her features. 
“What a shame,” Thesan lamented, his tone sincere. “I’m hosting a celebration for my Peregryns in a month. I would’ve loved for you to play for them.”
Valeria’s father hummed and she picked up on the hint. She excused herself politely. Though she knew her father’s demeanor was likely a result of Thesan’s presence, she couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of joy at his acknowledgement.
Valeria made her way to the desserts table, savoring the delightful taste of  a chocolate covered strawberry. Her gaze swept the room, searching for her brother amidst the sea of faces.
“Well, aren’t you a lovely little sweet.”
Startled by the sudden presence behind her, she jumped slightly before turning her head to find the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon a red-haired male, whose amber eyes watched her intently. He held an air of arrogance and entitlement as he extended his hand toward her.
“Would you care to dance?” He inclined his head to his left, where couples where swaying to the music.
“I’m busy.” Valeria replied, referring to the dessert in her hand.
She glared as he plucked the strawberry from her hand and popped the remaining piece into his mouth, all while sporting a smirk that seemed to mock her. He took her hand, without asking again, and led her to the dance floor.
His hand rested dangerously low against her back and was hot as it met her bare skin. The dress she chose tonight was a blue mermaid gown with a plunging neckline and open back design to accommodate her wings but she had chosen to glamor them. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked over her.
Valeria’s lips curled into a smirk of her own. She had seldom experienced the sensation of being desired. The Illyrians in Windhaven had steered clear of her after her fling with Damien–if one could even call it that. The three Illyrian males in her life were fiercely protective, effectively warding off any potential suitors. But here, things were different.
 Though her heart longed for the desire of a specific male, she couldn’t deny the pleasure of feeling desired by others.
At that moment, recognition dawned on Valeria. The devilishly handsome male dancing with her was the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court and if the rumors in Prythian were true, he was in search of a bride.
“You must be Eris.” She said, her tone cool and composed.
The fire in his amber eyes was unyielding as he spun her around. His movements pressed her back against his chest, and he leaned down, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered: “I’m honored you know my name, sweets.”
With a twist, he spun her back around to face him, catching the crinkle of her nose in response to his nickname with a dark chuckle.
“It’s Valeria to you.” She corrected him with a firm tone.
Eris paused, his eyes set ablaze at the challenge, as he teased her further. “Valeria Vanserra has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
In response, Valeria couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. When she opened her mouth to offer another sly retort, another voice beat her to it.
**
The entire night was torture for Azriel.
It all started when he spotted Valeria in a striking dark blue fitted gown that hugged her every curve and exposed so much of her pretty sun kissed skin– Gods, she was beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to trace her curves and exposed skin with his hands while he tasted her pretty lips once more. He almost had this morning after sparring with her.
A warmth surged through him, almost as if he were staking a delusional claim, as he noticed the necklace he gifted her was wrapped sweetly around her neck, the moonstone gem resting right at the curves of her chest.
It had been hard for him to part from her side after dinner. He wanted to be the one to walk with her, dance with her. The desire to take her away and have her to himself was overwhelming but he could not afford to give in to it. He was bound by the High Lord’s orders, hovering around with his shadows dispersed, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. He managed to spare a couple of shadows to accompany Valeria, instructing them to keep a low profile with her and reach out to him immediately if anyone that wasn’t Rhysand or her mother touched her.
 The torture had escalated with each passing moment as he noticed the increasing looks of interest sent her way. He had to summon every ounce of strength to keep his jealousy at bay, especially when he noticed that Valeria had attracted the attention of a red-haired male. Eris, heir to the Autumn court, his shadows happily filled in for him.
He watched with a tensed resolve, concealing the jealousy in his eyes behind the usual fierce and protective mask he wore. His gaze was unwavering as the Autumn Court male held her close, danced with her and when he made her laugh, he decided that was it. He was going to intervene. Perhaps, he would start by ripping the smirk off of Eris’s face. 
**
“Eris.”
Valeria found herself being pulled away and into the chest of another. A protective arm wrapped around her shoulders and she looked up to find her brother–his actions betraying the cool and measured demeanor on his face.
Eris’s smirk widened, picking up on Rhysand’s frustration. “I can see why you keep her hidden now.”
“Stay away from my sister.”
Rhysand’s glare was not enough to communicate his disapproval of Eris’s sudden and unwelcome interest in his sister. He didn’t bother with formalities and without saying another word, he pulled her away from Eris.
Leaning in closer to Valeria, Rhysand spoke in a hushed voice. “I have someone I want you to meet,” he whispered as he guided her through the crowded gathering.
Valeria followed her brother, oblivious to the Shadowsinger that had been moments away from tearing the heir to the Autumn court into pieces. She was curious and somewhat relieved to leave behind the tense encounter with Eris, wondering why the Cauldron had decided to bestow Prythian with its fair share of wicked sons.
But perhaps not all of Prythian’s sons were wicked, she found herself thinking as Rhysand introduced her to a quiet blond male. He appeared around her age. His green eyes were innocent and kind–a dark contrast to his older brothers, who had glared at her during dinner earlier.
His name was Tamlin and a light blush rose to his cheeks as Valeria smiled at him.
**
Finally, in the comforts of her room, Valeria let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back against her door. The night had been a hurricane of emotions from all the interactions she had, some were welcomed and others draining. She had ended her night with Mor, who was finally able to escape from the grasps of her family as Eris and his father approached Keir. Rhysand had to unfortunately leave early. Their father wanted him to check up on a growing conflict between Windhaven and a neighboring camp first thing in the morning so he thought it’d be best if he stayed the night at their house in Windhaven.
Valeria made her way to her vanity, seating herself upon the soft cushion of its bench. She slowly unraveled her bun, allowing her long dark hair to fall into a sea of ebony waves.
She unclasped her earrings next and as she went to unclasp her necklace, her eyes widened with alarm at the figure she caught behind her in the reflection from the vanity’s mirror. She abruptly stood from her seat, her initial shock giving way and gaze softening as she recognized the figure.
“By the cauldron, Azriel, you nearly gave me a heart attack!“
Azriel was behind her within seconds and she caught sight of his heated gaze through the mirror. “My sentiments exactly,” he told her, his fingers brushing the thin strap of her dress. He rejoiced in the way it easily fell from her shoulders. “When I saw you wearing this dress.”
“I wore it for you.” Valeria confessed as heat rose to her cheeks. The blue shade of her dress perfectly matched his siphons.
“Is that so?” He hummed, his gaze not leaving her bare back. 
He knew it was wrong to look at her the way he did. He knew that Rhysand would kill him if he saw the intent in his eyes but he had waited so long–six excruciating months– to finally have Valeria alone again and his shadows screamed at him to seize the opportunity. His hand then lightly grazed her back, tracing along the spot where her wings usually rested. Valeria shivered at his touch.
She turned around to face him and their eyes met, unspoken words between them as tension filled the air. Tension that had sparked between them since their first kiss. Tension that had lingered, waiting for the right kindling to ignite it once more. Tension that was set alight by their sparring this morning, further fueled by the exchanged glances during dinner. Tension that was no longer possible to ignore.
And then their lips were desperately crashing into each other in an ardent kiss.
They pulled each other close until their bodies were flush against one another, his shadows enveloping around the both of them. With Valeria’s arms wrapped around his neck, she slid her fingers through his soft dark hair and his slid to her hips, hoisting her up onto her vanity. Her legs instantly wrapped themselves around his waist and she pulled him even closer, feeling him harden against her and eliciting a groan from him that made a heat pool in her stomach.
He broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast and sharp. “Val,” he breathed her name so heavenly, despite the slight tremble in his body. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
She knew she should stop him as they were both walking among a fine line but she couldn’t bring herself to. Not when Azriel was looking at her like she was the one who placed the stars in the sky.
“Good thing,” Valeria began, nudging her nose softly against his. “I don’t want you to stop.”
That was all the confirmation Azriel needed before he picked her up and placed her onto her bed. He was then claiming her lips again, darting his tongue along her bottom lip and she parted her lips for him, groaning into his mouth as his tongue caressed hers.
Azriel broke from the kiss and pulled on the dress that had left little to the imagination and an insatiable thirst for more. He was filled with a desperate desire to feel all of her against him. She arched into him, allowing him to undo the delicate laces and slide her dress off in one motion. He would’ve ripped it off her, if it hadn’t been one of her mother’s designs. 
His breath hitched as he hovered over her, appreciating her beauty–the sight of her almost bare before him. Her moonstone necklace shimmered and was nestled deliciously right above her exposed breasts. “Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed, allowing his shadows to caress her breasts, rejoicing in the way she shivered with pleasure. 
She let out a moan as he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts and sucked on it, his tongue flicking against her nipple while his shadows continued to caress the other.
“Azriel.”
“Tell me,” he murmured against her soft skin. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want to be yours.” She breathed in reply. 
He nearly moaned at her words, rapidly losing his resolve as the scent of her arousal hit him then. She pulled on his leathers, a silent request to take them off. He complied, disposing of his clothing until he was bare before her, his siphons landing on the floor with a thud. His cock sprang free, no longer restrained by his leathers and he took delight in the way her eyes grew wide, taken aback by his considerable length before they trailed their way up to the intricate tattoos on his chest.
Valeria wanted to kiss along his tattoos as she had desired to earlier in the morning but when she moved to sit up, Azriel stopped her. He pinned her back to the bed with a low growl. Her bare skin was so warm against his.
“You’re all mine.” He told her, echoing her wish from just moments ago, and then was grinding his hips against her clothed core in a teasing manner.
His lips trailed down her stomach until he hovered over the place she desperately needed him. He looked up once more at her. Although he told her he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back, he still sought her permission. 
She gave a nod and he smirked at her, a devious glint in his hazel eyes.
“Words.” He teased her, brushing his nose against her core as her arousal flooded him, overwhelming all his senses. His eyes and the shadows around him darkened.  “I need your words.”
“I need you.” 
He tutted, not entirely satisfied. “Need me where?”
“By the cauldron Azriel, I need you to fuck me.” She cried out desperately, her words making his cock throb almost painfully and before he could tease her further, she added: “With your tongue, fingers, cock. Do as you wish, I’m all yours."
“Gods, you have such a dirty mouth on you.” He replied as he slid her underwear off, imagining all the things her dirty mouth was capable of. He hooked her legs to rest on either side of his wings. “Where did you learn such vulgar things?”
Books, she had meant to reply but she was set ablaze and at a loss for words at the first lick of his tongue. A soft whimper escaped from her and he unleashed himself, eagerly devouring her and drawing out more moans that were like music to his ears. Her fingers found themselves entangled in his hair again and she writhed beneath him. Azriel placed a firm grip on her hips, smirking against her as her thighs trembled against him. He could tell she was close. 
Wanting nothing more than to hear her lose herself completely to him, he slid his tongue into her and allowed his shadows to caress her everywhere, wanting to touch every inch of her skin and discover her most sensitive areas. Her breasts, her neck, her clit. 
“Azriel.”
Another low growl erupted from deep in his chest at the way she moaned his name. It was lovely and it felt so right.
“Come on, princess.” He purred, pressing a kiss to her clit before kissing his way up her thigh. He replaced his tongue with his finger, slowly easing his way with one until eventually, he was pumping three inside her. He left trails of her essence all over her body as he continued to make his way up. “Let go for me.”
Azriel’s lips were pressed against her neck when the heat pooled in her stomach tightened and then her core was pulsing around his fingers as she came, waves of pleasure flooding all of her senses. He pulled away from her neck, watching as her body arched into his and trembled with a soft glow. 
Azriel had never beheld anything more exquisite than this–than her coming apart under his touch. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, engraving the sweet image into his mind. An image that he would savor for centuries.
A finger traced over the sensitive curve of his wing, pulling him out of his trance and it was his turn to moan her name. He felt her other hand on his cheek and he leaned in to it, savoring her touch. He allowed her to take control for a moment as she guided his lips to hers. She could taste herself on his lips.
Another whimper escaped from him, his eyes fluttering close when he felt her finger brush the curve of his wing again. Her movements were agonizingly slow as she trailed her finger down and his breath hitched as they brushed against his hard length before wrapping themselves around it. He placed his hand over hers before she could continue. She had barely touch him but he could feel his release quickening already.
When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown, their darkness honing in on her. A darkness she wanted to dive further into. “Please.” Valeria begged against his lips. 
His forehead rested against hers and his breath fanned her face. He knew what she was asking for but there would be no going back from this. He wanted to make sure that she still wanted this, still wanted him.
“Are you sure?” He pulled away from her lips to allow her to answer, leaning his cheek against her hand once more, his eyes looking straight into hers.
“Yes.” Her voice was so sure as she held his gaze. It caused something in his chest to rise and flutter madly. “I want you to be my first.”
Overwhelmed by the surge of emotions, he found himself unable to suppress his feelings. Yes, he desired her, but it went beyond physical attraction. He yearned for more than just her body. He desperately and selfishly wanted her heart too.
“I don’t just want to be your first.” He told her, pressing a soft kiss into the palm of her hand. “I want to be the only one.”
“Yes, yes.” She nodded her head at him and though her eyes were clouded with lust, she genuinely meant it. She yearned to be his and his only. Heart and soul. “You’re all I can think about.”
“Gods, you’ll be my ruin.” He uttered a sigh as he fisted his cock. He rubbed his length along her entrance, coating it with her arousal before sliding the tip in.
Valeria let out a gasp as he slowly pushed himself further. His hands found hers, intertwining their fingers together and resting them on either side of her head. He sweetly kissed the tears from her eyes and stilled inside her, allowing her to adjust to his size. Blood pounded through his body, his heart surging with fervor as she felt so heavenly wrapped around him tightly. 
He’d imagined this moment before, on nights where his thoughts were consumed with her. He’d imagine what noises she’d make, what she’d feel like, how she’d beg for him. To finally have her like this, it surpassed his wildest dreams. 
And when she was begging for him to move, he happily obliged. 
“You’re taking me so well.” He praised as he thrusted into her, slow and hard, all the way until his hips were flushed against hers. "Fuck, you're so perfect."
  His thrusts grew quicker and harder, his shadows frenzied around him as he continued to draw out her pleasure. She was a sobbing mess beneath him. When he felt her pulsing around him, he sent a shadow to rub against her clit while his lips claimed hers. She moaned lewdly into his mouth.
His pace picked up, pounding into her mercilessly as their scents merged as one. His grip on her hands tightened as his hips stuttered into her. She tilted her head back, their kiss now all tongue and barely lips as she tightened around him.
Release tore through their bodies and when their eyes met, they were a beautiful and panting mess.
Through the window, the moon's soft embrace casted a gentle glow, illuminating her face as his shadows lingered behind him, admiring her beauty. She was the radiant light, and he, the comforting darkness. They existed in an unspoken unity.
She held his heart, and he, unreservedly, belonged to her.
***
tag list:  @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm
a/n: I was inspired by a comment @kemillyfreitas made on one of the imagines and decided that if her father won't show her love, at least Thesan will. I have a soft spot for the high lord of dawn <3
I contemplated so much about this moment between Az and Val because it was definitely going to happen. It was just a matter of when. I wanted to save it for the actual storyline but ultimately, thought it was best for it to happen much sooner. They are aware that there's something special between them (Az more so than Val) but instead of letting words/reason guide them, they're being guided by their feelings and desire. also, if things are unclear or you would like clarification on some things, feel free to ask. I'll answer them happily!
songs I listened to while writing this on repeat: kingdom fall by claire wyndham, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys if you couldn't tell by the dialogue lol, feels like by gracia abrahams. I did make a playlist for songs I listen to while I write. I want to incorporate some of the lyrics into the imagines.
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