#I could watch hours of them just sitting next to each other silently

[vaguely-concerned]

imagining that while rook is gone, about a week and a half or so in, there's one night where lucanis suddenly appears unannounced in illario's room in the way he has of doing that and which could scare anyone else to death on its own, but of all people in the world illario is the most inclined to only find it mildly annoying to look up from his bad boy Brooding and also facemask-equivalent beauty routine (can't be tragically denied even being doomed by the narrative if you ain't cute) to find his cousin -- now first talon of the crows at least in name -- suddenly staring at him intently and expressionlessly from a few meters away. and when illario (half-jokingly, half-seriously, all-yearningly because crows live bad) is like 'ah so is this finally it are you here to kill me' even with no vengeful purple glow in evidence lucanis just snorts scathingly to show all the seriousness with which he still takes that idea and illario has to wistfully be like 'no, I thought not. so to what do I owe the honour, then, first talon. I figured you'd be pretty busy out there by now'.

and lucanis doesn't say anything at all, just stands there silently for a while and then sits down in a corner of the room with his back against the wall and buries his face in his hands. you have to understand how crucial it is for my vision here that they Do Not talk about it. they never talk about it, not in that moment and not later. illario doesn't have the first idea what 'it' could even be, once he's asked 'is it -- caterina? did something happen to...' (feeling suddenly and absurdly as much like a little boy again as lucanis just had before covering his face) and gotten the slightest headshake in response, nothing else he tries to ask even gets a reaction.

everything is all fucked up and nothing is ever going to be like it used to and the fact that this is where lucanis thought to go about whatever has happened to make his eyes look like that is ludicrous on so many levels and in so many ways. but I do think illario eventually sighs and at least sits down on the floor next to him, leaving a bigger distance between them than he might have once both in self-defense and out of something like consideration. 'I'd ask if you'd like to talk about it, but of course I know you. you never do'. (even with everything else that has happened, illario still knows lucanis better than almost anyone in the world. few things could have convinced him that maybe it really is his cousin in there still quite like this prolonged and complete lack of communication lol.) in the silence they fail to keep each other company in the same way they have for years, but maybe they can at least be honest about it now.

and then when lucanis gets to his feet like this entire very strange silent last half hour never happened to brush dust from his clothes and say he has to go... what can illario really do but go 'sure. great talk, as always. happy to be of service' from the floor as he watches his cousin disappear again into the night. I imagine illario wearing some sort of opulent bath robe or something through this whole thing by the way I think that's an important detail to get in there

[justice4gyeongsu]

━━━ 'CHAPTER THIRTEEN' [WHEN DAWN BREAKS]

SYNOPSIS ➢ the power of being stuck in a storage closet makes some come together while others seem to stray away.

PAIRING ➢ lee suhyeok x male!reader

AU ➢ enemies-to-lovers au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; flashbacks, violence, alot of angst, signs of depression, jealousy, mentions of bullying, death, depression, some fluff, reoccuring ptsd, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

NEXT I PREVIOUS

as morning breaks, the storage closet transforms. sunlight pours in through the few high windows, casting a warm glow on the space. the air is filled with the sweet sounds of birds chirping and crickets falling silent, a serene contrast to the chaos that has unfolded.

one by one, the group stirs, each person slowly rising to sit across the room in contemplative silence. the weight of the past few hours hangs heavy, as they process the loss of loved ones and the turmoil that has brought them to this place. but amidst the somber stillness, one figure remains motionless. you lie sleeping underneath a chair, wrapped in the gentle protection of onjo's sweater. your face is turned away from the windows, away from the world outside, as if seeking refuge from the pain and exhaustion that has consumed you.

in this moment, sleep is a welcome respite, a fleeting escape from the overwhelming emotions that threaten to engulf you. and as you rest, you can't help but feel a sense of resignation, a tempting desire to simply stay hidden away in this storage closet forever, shielded from the uncertainty and heartache that lies beyond.

onjo sits vigilantly beside you, her presence a gentle comfort as she watches over your slumber. she feels an overwhelming urge to care for you, to shield you from the world and its cruelties. her eyes soften as she gazes at your peaceful form, her heart filled with a deep affection for you and cheongsan, who sits quietly to her right.

as she looks at you, she's reminded of a young deer, vulnerable and alone, struggling to find its footing in a vast and unpredictable world. your tired, fragile appearance evokes a strong maternal instinct in her, and she feels a deep desire to protect and nurture you, to help you find your strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

wujin turns to his sister, his voice laced with concern, "noona, you didn't fail in the preliminaries, did you?" he asks, his eyes searching for reassurance. his sister hesitates, her gaze drifting away as she responds slowly, "no, i did really well." her voice is measured, but the lack of conviction is notiecable. wujin's curiosity is piqued, and he presses for more information, his tone gentle but insistent. "well, then what happened? why did you come back to the school if you won?" he senses that something is amiss, and his doubts begin to simmer just below the surface.

mijin, sensing the unease, intervenes with a light, conversational tone. "you're her brother?" she asks, sitting up a bit straighter, her interest piqued. wujin nods, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern, "yeah, i am."

mijin's face glows with pride as she gazes at hari, a smug smile spreading across her features. "you should know then that she got a perfect score, so she made it to the nationals," she reveals, her voice dripping with satisfaction. she adds a casual remark, "i saw her," to lend an air of authenticity to her statement.

wujin's eyes widen in awe as he turns back to his sister, a bright smile illuminating his face. "really?" he asks, his excitement palpable. "no way. you're really in nationals? does mom and dad know?" he presses, sitting up even straighter, his enthusiasm bubbling over.

however mijin's sarcastic tone quickly deflates his excitement. "gosh, you rascal, how could they know now? look around," she scoffs, her words a harsh reminder of their current circumstances. wujin's eyes dart away, his face flushing with embarrassment at his oversight. cheongsan's gentle reprimand interrupts the exchange, "hey guys, quiet down. y/n's still sleeping." wujin nods, chastened, and turns back to his sister, ready to ask another question, but mijin catches his eye, a warning glint in her own.

mijin's expression turns stern, her voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and amusement. "yah, she jumped out of the archery bus and ran to the school to find you. you little..." she trails off, smacking her lips in a gesture reminiscent of a disapproving aunt.

wujin's face contorts in disgust as mijin continues, her gaze drifting to hari, who remains lost in thought. "you be good to her," mijin instructs, her tone softening slightly. she pauses, a hint of pride creeping into her voice. "...and to me too." her eyes sparkle with amusement as she looks away, a subtle smile playing on her lips. wujin attempts to whisper to his sister, his voice barely audible as he tries to convey his confusion. "who is she and why does she keep talking for you?" his words are laced with a mix of curiosity and annoyance, but mijin's sharp ears pick up on the hushed conversation, her gaze flicking back to wujin with a knowing glint.

hari's gaze shifts to mijin, a faint smile playing on her lips. "she's my friend," she says, her voice soft and gentle. mijin's heart skips a beat as she processes hari's words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. "yeah, we're... fucking besties," mijin agrees, her tone shy and hesitant, but her eyes sparkling with delight. wujin's reaction is immediate, his face contorting in distaste as he looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange.

his gaze falls on daesu, who stands before them, a solemn expression etched on his face. wujin's eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters, "shit, you scared me." daesu's presence is unexpected, and wujin's words hang in the air as daesu prepares to speak, his expression somber and serious.

daesu clears his throat and looks down at his feet awkwardly. “i..” he trails off. “..you?” mijin tries to help him finish his sentence.

daesu's words tumble out in a rush, his voice barely above a whisper. "i think you're the perfect girl," he confesses, his chest rising with a deep breath, as if he's been holding the sentiment inside for far too long.

wujin's eyes dart between his friend, his sister, and back again, his expression a mix of shock and incredulity. "you freak..." he whispers, his voice laced with disbelief. the room falls silent, with all eyes fixed on the unfolding scene, except for two people - suhyeok and you.

suhyeok's gaze is captivated by your shoes, which lie neatly on top of each other, a testament to your orderly nature, even in rest. he sits transfixed, his eyes drinking in the sight of your belongings, his presence drawn to yours, even as you sleep. without drawing attention to himself, he subtly shifts his position, inching closer to your shoes, and by extension, to you. though he doesn't touch them, he feels a sense of comfort in being near, as if your presence is a soothing balm to his soul.

suhyeok's emotions are a tangled mess, a jumble of shame, regret, and self-reproach. his anger, a familiar companion for most of his life, has turned inward, and he's consumed by the memory of how he spoke to you the night before. the weight of his words hangs heavy, and he's tormented by the thought of how he treated someone as fragile yet resilient as you.

as he sits, his arms fold over his knees, and his head bows, resting on his arms. his gaze drifts upward, drinking in the sight of you, sleeping peacefully. his mind is a cacophony of recriminations, a constant, piercing criticism that echoes through his thoughts. the turmoil within him is a palpable, almost overwhelming force, as he struggles to come to terms with his actions and the emotions that drive him.

daesu's voice echoes through the room, his words tumbling out in a desperate, anguished cry. "why don't you understand? i really like you!" he shouts, his emotions raw and unbridled.

suhyeok's gaze had been fixed on you, lost in thought, but daesu's outburst snaps him back to reality. he's missed the chaos that erupted moments before, when hari's temper flared in response to daesu's confession. he's unaware of the punches and slaps that flew, or the way hari trapped daesu within a makeshift prison of metal racks, their wire mesh confines overflowing with sports balls of every shape and size.

but suhyeok's attention is riveted on you now, as your body jerks in response to daesu's sudden, ear-piercing shout. suhyeok's head snaps up, his eyes locking onto yours, his expression a mask of concern and alarm.

you stir, pulling your legs up and sliding out from underneath the chair, as the sudden shouting jolts you awake. your head darts wildly around the room, struggling to comprehend the chaos that's erupted. your eyes scan the space, drinking in the scene before you, as you try to shake off the remnants of sleep.

in your haste to stand, onjo's sweater slips off your shoulders, and you instinctively reach out to catch it, clutching it tightly to your chest. onjo and namra rush to your side, their hands extended in a calming gesture, as they try to reassure you that there's no danger.

but you're still disoriented, half-asleep, and struggling to process the mayhem that's unfolded. your gaze darts around the room, confusion etched on your face, as you try to make sense of the shouting, the commotion, and the worried expressions of those around you.

hari's voice drips with sarcasm as she turns to daesu, her eyes blazing with annoyance. "now look what you did. you woke up y/n, my dear husband," she says, her tone heavy with irony.

she lunges forward, trying to grab daesu, but he dodges and weaves, avoiding her grasp. "you attacked me first!" daesu protests, trying to reason with hari, but she's having none of it.

instead, she begins to hurl volleyballs at him, her aim true as she tries to pelt him with the balls. daesu ducks and dodges, desperate to avoid the flying projectiles as hari's anger continues to simmer, threatening to boil over at any moment.

mijin's voice is low and casual as she issues a gentle command, "yah, kid. go back to sleep." she slips her hands into her pockets, her demeanor nonchalant, as if trying to downplay the chaos that's erupted. your mind is still foggy, struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. you nod slowly, your gaze drifting around the room in confusion. onjo seizes the opportunity, grasping the hem of your pants and gently tugging you down to sit beside her. you follow her lead, still disoriented, and settle in next to her.

meanwhile, suhyeok's eyes hold a glimmer of hope, a fleeting wish that you might glance in his direction. but even in your tired, bewildered state, your instincts don't lead you to seek him out. suhyeok's gaze lingers, a mixture of longing and resignation, as he watches you settle in beside onjo, his hopes dashed, if only for the moment.

onjo gently cradles your head in her lap, softly laying her sweater back over you. your eyelids grow heavy, and you succumb to sleep once more, the warmth and comfort of onjo's lap a soothing balm to your exhausted mind and body. the transition is seamless, and you're asleep again within mere minutes, a testament to your deep fatigue.

mijin's voice cuts through the din, her tone detached as she ignores the ongoing commotion between hari and daesu. "gosh, i never thought i'd see that brat again," she remarks, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

hroryeong's curiosity is piqued, and she asks, "you know y/n?" her confusion evident, as she tries to piece together the connection between mijin and you. mijin's response is smooth, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "yeah, we go way back," she says, the statement a blatant fabrication, but one that goes unchallenged in the moment, even by you, who slumber peacefully, oblivious to the conversation.

mijin's gaze sweeps the group, a small smirk still playing on her lips. "glad to see the guy actually has some other friends," she says, her tone laced with a hint of dry humor. the group exchanges small smiles, a sense of warmth and camaraderie evident in their expressions, as they reflect on the bonds that have formed between you and them over the past few days.

wujin's voice cuts in, a hint of smugness creeping into his tone. "y/n and i were childhood friends, actually," he says, crossing his arms over his chest, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips. mijin's gaze lingers on wujin, her expression unreadable. after a beat, she responds, her voice measured, "oh yeah?" her tone invites wujin to elaborate, and he nods, still not meeting her gaze. "yup, spent almost every day together," wujin says, a faraway look creeping into his eyes, as if he's genuinely reminiscing about fond memories. however, the hint of smugness still lingers, suggesting that wujin might be embellishing the truth, or at least, enjoying the attention.

mijin lets out a dismissive scoff, a proud smile spreading across her face. "yeah, well, y/n and i are pretty close," she says, her voice dripping with confidence. "i mean, we're practically family. you know, he calls me noona instead of sunbae?" she adds, the claim a blatant fabrication, but one she delivers with conviction.

joonyeong and suhyeok exchange a look of annoyance, their expressions a testament to their skepticism. they return their attention to the exchange between mijin and wujin, their gazes neutral.wujin responds, a hint of smugness creeping into his tone. "i mean, that's cool, but i think since i've known him longer, i'd say we were closer." he adds a casual "just saying" to his statement, but the underlying competitiveness is palpable.

mijin's gaze snaps to wujin, her eyes narrowing into an annoyed glare. the air is thick with tension as the two engage in a silent stare-down, each attempting to outdo the other in their claims of closeness to you.

mijin's eyes narrow, her gaze piercing as she scrutinizes wujin. "that's funny," she says, her voice laced with skepticism. "last time we spoke, he told me he didn't have any friends." her tone implies that wujin's claims of a close relationship with you are dubious, at best.

wujin hesitates, his eyes darting around the room as he searches for a response. but before he can speak, mijin presses on, her words dripping with challenge. "honestly, he never even mentioned your name." the statement hangs in the air, a gauntlet thrown, as mijin awaits wujin's response.

wujin's chuckle is nervous, a forced attempt to diffuse the tension. he's clearly caught off guard by mijin's revelation, and his mind is racing to come up with a plausible explanation. the room falls silent, all eyes fixed on the exchange between mijin and wujin, as even daesu and hari pause in their argument, intrigued by the sudden drama unfolding before them.

mijin's voice rises, her anger and frustration simmering just below the surface. "actually, he said everyone was pretty much against him because he's..." she begins, her words trailing off as she meets wujin's gaze. suddenly, she realizes what she's about to reveal, and her expression freezes. she gulps, her throat constricting, before clearing her throat and looking away, her anger and frustration boiling over. "ugh, nevermind, you little brat," she mutters, her voice laced with irritation, as she scratches her cheek in frustration. the tension in the room is palpable, until cheongsan speaks up, his voice calm and soothing. "we know," he says, his eyes drifting to your peaceful form, still slumbering away. "it's not a big deal, so let's not make it one." his words are a gentle rebuke, a reminder to mijin to let the matter drop.mijin's eyebrows furrow, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she turns to cheongsan. "you know... what?" she asks, her voice low and even, as if daring him to reveal how much he really knows.

daesu's voice is barely audible, his words whispered as if sharing a secret that's too sensitive for outsiders to hear. "he's gay," he says, his tone conspiratorial, as if the storage closet is a confessional.the room falls silent, with no one responding or reacting. joonyeong breaks the silence, giving a thumbs up, a subtle acknowledgment of daesu's revelation.

mijin's expression transforms, her suspicion giving way to a warm smile. she nods, seeming to accept the information, before sitting up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "okay, thank god," she says, chuckling to herself, "cause i wanted to ask him more questions about his love life, and it would've been hard with all you brats here."

hroryeong and onjo exchange a look, their expressions bored, before shrugging and focusing on their skirts, playing with the fabric as if seeking distraction from the conversation. their nonchalant attitude is a stark contrast to mijin's enthusiasm, and the tension in the room begins to dissipate, replaced by a sense of mundane normalcy.

suhyeok abruptly rises to his feet, his eyes fixed on the metal ball containers stacked below him. with a sudden burst of energy, he begins to kick and clang against the containers, testing their sturdiness. the loud rattling noise fills the room, causing everyone to turn their heads in unison, seeking the source of the commotion.

joonyeong is the first to react, getting up from his seat to approach suhyeok. "what's going on?" he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice. suhyeok pauses, his chest heaving slightly, as he explains, "i was just wondering if we can move these things."

joonyeong's expression changes, a spark of understanding igniting in his eyes. he begins to think critically, his mind racing with the possibilities. he starts to envision ways to utilize the metal containers to their advantage, his gaze drifting back to suhyeok, a nod of appreciation on his face.

suhyeok's words spark a flurry of activity, as everyone rises to their feet, united in their efforts to create a makeshift shield. "we can tie all the carts in a circle, then we can use them as a shield," suhyeok explains, his idea igniting a sense of purpose in the group.

as the others begin to work together, gathering zip ties and securing the carts in a circular formation, suhyeok's gaze meets onjo's. onjo's eyes had been fixed on your sleeping form, a look of quiet contemplation on her face. suhyeok's eyes lock onto onjo's, and onjo responds with a subtle nod, as if acknowledging suhyeok's unspoken understanding.

onjo's hands gently cradle your head, her fingers stroking your hair with a soothing gentleness. the calm, peaceful atmosphere surrounding you is a stark contrast to the bustling activity around the makeshift shield. as the group works together, their movements become a blur of efficiency, united in their determination to protect and defend.

the storage room transforms into a flurry of activity, as everyone works together, pooling their resources and skills to create a formidable barrier. tool boxes and crates are raided, yielding a treasure trove of random supplies that are quickly repurposed for their defense.

joonyeong, wujin, and hroryeong scour the room, gathering an assortment of ropes, including jump-ropes, to secure the carts in place. meanwhile, cheongsan and daesu work in tandem, holding the carts together in a circular formation, as they await the ropes to tie everything together.

suhyeok, ever the climber, attempts to scale a nearby shelf, his eyes scanning the top for any equipment that might aid in their defense. his movements are agile and precise, as he searches for anything that might give them an edge.

nearby, namra, mijin, and hari engage in a heated discussion, debating the merits of adding a top section to their makeshift shield. "we should add a top part," namra suggests, "so they can't climb over." hari nods in agreement, while mijin chimes in, her voice filled with determination. "yeah, we can't let those zombies get the drop on us." the trio continues to brainstorm, their conversation flowing easily, as they work together to fortify their defenses.

the sense of harmony and cooperation is shattered in an instant, as onjo's leg jolts, startling you awake. you sit up with a jolt, your eyes scanning the room, and your ears assaulted by the sound of screaming. but it's not hari's voice that fills the air - it's mijin's.

"you piece of shit! who do you think you are?" mijin's words are venomous, her face twisted in rage, as she shoves joonyeong with all her might. suhyeok attempts to intervene, but he's no match for mijin's fury.

you leap to your feet, your voice ringing out across the room. "yah! what's going on?" you demand, your eyes scanning the scene before you. mijin's anger is still simmering, her finger jabbing accusingly at joonyeong. "ask your idiot friend," she spits, her tone dripping with malice. joonyeong's face is a mask of anger, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. wujin steps in, his voice laced with annoyance. "we shouldn't fight like this, especially not now," he says, his words a plea for calm in the midst of chaos.

suhyeok tells them both to stop but joonyeong pushes his hand away from him, “who the hell is she to tell us we have to redo it?”

mijin's expression twists in scorn, her voice dripping with venom. "your fucking nightmare, that's who!" she retorts, her anger and frustration boiling over. she attempts to take a step forward, but suhyeok once again intervenes, his body positioning itself between mijin and joonyeong.

suhyeok's voice rises, his tone firm but calm. "look, we're in this together, so let's not make it harder than it needs to be," he says, his eyes darting between mijin and joonyeong, as he strives to mediate the conflict.

your gaze falls on suhyeok, and for a moment, the tension between mijin and joonyeong fades into the background. memories of the previous night's encounter with suhyeok come flooding back, and your face flushes with a mix of desire and embarrassment. the feelings are still raw, and you're not ready to confront them. your anger and frustration serve as a convenient shield, allowing you to push those memories aside, at least for the time being.

“youre gonna die out there if you don't listen to me,” mijin sneered at joonyeong who rolled his eyes. “you think im putting it up cause i wanna die? no!” joonyeong responded back, “stop acting like you're better than us just because you're not in the same grade as us.” he huffed in annoyance at mijins fiery spirit. however mijin took that as disrespect.

the atmosphere is electric with animosity as mijin and joonyeong engage in a heated exchange. but your calm and authoritative voice cuts through the chaos, bringing the argument to an abrupt halt. "both of you stop, we can discuss this in a better way than screaming at each other," you say firmly, your words commanding attention.

the room falls silent, with all eyes on you. you notice namra's gaze fixed intently on you, her eyes having been on you the entire time. you flash her a soft smile, accompanied by a subtle smirk that only she can see. "what do we do, class president?" you ask, your voice low and gentle.

namra's expression remains serene, but she raises her head slightly, her eyes locked on yours. "we'll vote on it," she declares, her voice clear and decisive. the room remains silent for a moment, before namra instructs everyone to gather around, her words sparking a sense of anticipation and expectation.

you position yourself beside cheongsan and mijin, leaning casually against the cart as namra begins to outline the options. "one, we split up," she says, her voice clear and concise. but instead of sparking a debate, her words are met with an uncomfortable silence. no one raises their hand, the reluctance to split up palpable in the air.

namra's expression remains neutral, her eyes scanning the group as she continues. "two, we stick together," she says, and this time, the response is overwhelmingly in favor. one by one, hands begin to rise, some more hesitant than others. the consensus is clear: sticking together is the preferred option, and the group's collective relief is almost tangible.

namra's voice is calm and authoritative as she announces, "alright, that means we are staying together." but before she can continue, daesu and mijin's disagreement threatens to boil over into a full-blown argument. you intervene, firmly telling them to "shut up and listen." they both reluctantly comply, their faces still stormy with discontent. namra seizes the opportunity to press on, her voice steady. "anyways, one, we make the outside higher." joonyeong's hand shoots up first, followed by suhyeok, onjo, and cheongsan. you hesitate, weighing your options, and just as you're about to raise your hand, mijin's death stare freezes you in place. you flash her a small, conciliatory smile before lowering your hand.

but you're not willing to abandon your opinion entirely. when mijin's attention is diverted, you slyly mouth to namra, "count me too." it's a subtle gesture, one that allows you to register your support without openly defying mijin's glare. namra's eyes flicker to yours, a hint of understanding in their depths, before she continues with the discussion.

namra's voice continues, steady and clear, as she presents the second option. "two, we fold the lids to make a box." mijin's hand springs up instantly, followed by hroryeong, wujin, and hari. mijin's eyes dart to you, expecting to see your hand raised in agreement. but your hand remains still, and you deliberately avoid her gaze, pretending to focus on something else.

mijin's reaction is immediate and intense. she mutters a curse under her breath before elbowing you sharply on your injured arm. the pain is sudden and intense, and you can't help but groan in response. but despite the discomfort, you lift your other arm in a show of solidarity with mijin, though you carefully shake your head at namra, indicating that you don't actually support the second option. the gesture is a delicate balancing act, one that aims to placate mijin's temper without compromising your own opinions.

namra's announcement is met with a mixture of reactions. "majority votes for option one. we'll be building the barricade higher," she declares, her voice firm and decisive. some members of the group rejoice, seemingly pleased with the outcome, while others remain stoic.

mijin, however, speaks up, her voice tinged with a hint of challenge. "what about your vote?" she asks, her eyes fixed intently on namra. the question hangs in the air, implying that namra's own vote might have swung the decision in a particular direction. the group's attention is now focused on namra, awaiting her response to mijin's inquiry.

namra's blank stare speaks volumes before she finally announces, "i go with one." the decision is met with a mixture of reactions, but mijin's disappointment is palpable. she lets out a curse under her breath, clearly unhappy about losing the vote.

you try to offer some comfort, patting her back as everyone starts to build the shield. "hey, if you ever get mad again, just know i was on your side," you whisper with a small smile. but mijin isn't buying it - she knows you're lying, and she gives you a small glare to prove it. "you moron, this is what i get from treating you so well?" she says, hopping off the cart and motioning for you to help her drill the boards to the carts. despite the tension, you can't help but notice the way mijin's eyes sparkle with annoyance, and you can't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the situation.

"hurry up," you say, following mijin with a small smile. you're trying not to laugh at how adorable she is when she's sulking. it's been a whirlwind few days, and to say you've built a lot of things is a massive understatement. you've been pushed to your limits, and your skills have been put to the test.

as you work alongside mijin, you can't help but think about the future. once this ordeal is over, you're going to have a slew of new skills to add to your resume. you're not sure what kind of job you'll be applying for, but you're confident that your experiences will make you a strong candidate. the thought is a comforting one, and it gives you the motivation to keep going, even in the face of adversity.

as you kneel down to drill the wood panels, mijin holds them in place, her hands steady and firm. your focus is solely on the task at hand, the sound of the drill filling the air. around you, the others are working on different aspects of the barricade. namra is carefully holding down a nail that will secure a makeshift mattress to the metal cart's pole, while suhyeok is supposed to be attaching a zip tie to hold it in place.

but suhyeok's attention is elsewhere, his gaze drifting across the room to settle on you. he's noticed little things about you as he's spent more time with you, like the way you react to mijin's teasing. she calls you a moron, and you don't bat an eye, but when myungwhan used to say the same thing, you'd get defensive. suhyeok's observations are subtle, but they reveal a deeper understanding of your personality and dynamics within the group.

suhyeok's observations of you have given him a glimpse into your emotional intelligence. he's realized that you're able to distinguish between people who are genuinely trying to hurt you and those who are simply joking around. it's a subtle but important distinction, and one that speaks to your ability to navigate complex social dynamics.

just as suhyeok is lost in thought, namra's soft voice breaks the spell. "staring isn't going to help us get done faster," she says, her tone gentle but pointed. suhyeok's head snaps towards her, his expression a picture of innocence. he blinks slowly, his eyes wide with feigned nonchalance. for a moment, suhyeok tries to come up with an explanation for his behavior, but he quickly thinks better of it. instead, he focuses on tying down the zip tie, his movements sudden and deliberate. it's clear that he's trying to avoid an unwanted conversation, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to steer the focus back to the task at hand.

namra's gaze lingers on suhyeok for a moment, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. she seems to sense that there's more to suhyeok's behavior than meets the eye. slowly, she looks around the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the group's industrious efforts.

her eyes scan the space, lingering on mijin and you as you work together, before moving on to joonyeong and the others. finally, her gaze comes back to rest on suhyeok, who's still intently focused on securing the zip tie. namra's voice is low and casual as she asks, "suhyeok, do you... like y/n?" her words are dropped like a stone into a still pond, causing ripples of tension to spread through the air. suhyeok's hands freeze, the zip tie momentarily forgotten, as he struggles to come up with a response. suhyeok's ears turn a brilliant shade of red as namra's question hangs in the air. he's frozen in place, his body as still as a statue, as he struggles to process his emotions. it's clear that he's unsure of how to respond, and the silence that follows namra's question is oppressive.

just as it seems like suhyeok is about to implode from embarrassment, daesu ambles over, a look of annoyance on his face. "hey, suhyeok, can we switch?" he asks, patting suhyeok on the back. "wujin keeps yelling at me, and i'm getting tired of it." daesu's interruption is a welcome distraction, and suhyeok's frozen state begins to thaw. he blinks slowly, his eyes darting towards daesu as he tries to process the sudden change in conversation. namra's question is left hanging, unanswered, as the group's attention shifts to daesu's complaint.

wujin stands up from his kneeling position, a look of exasperation on his face. "he's always complaining that he's hungry," wujin says, his voice tinged with frustration. "i'm trying to focus on getting this done, and all he can think about is his stomach."

daesu shoots back, "hey, i'm starving! we've been working for hours, and i haven't eaten anything since..." he looks around the group, hoping to garner some sympathy, but wujin just rolls his eyes. "you're always hungry, daesu," wujin says, shaking his head. "it's like you have a bottomless pit for a stomach." the group chuckles at wujin's comment, and the tension is momentarily broken. suhyeok, still looking a bit flustered from namra's earlier question, takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. as the sound of your drill momentarily stops, cheongsan suddenly speaks up, his voice low and barely audible. he mutters something underneath his breath, and you strain to catch the words. at first, you're not sure what he said, but then you pick up on a single word that makes your ears perk up: "chocolate". you're not sure what cheongsan is talking about, or why he's mentioning chocolate out of the blue. but the word itself is enough to spark a sudden craving within you. you can't help but wonder if there's any chocolate to be found in their current surroundings, or if cheongsan is just taunting you with the mention of it.

as everyone turns towards cheongsan, they're met with a surprising sight: he's holding an unopened chocolate bar in his hand. the room falls silent for a moment, before suddenly erupting into a flurry of activity. people start gathering around cheongsan, their eyes fixed greedily on the chocolate bar.

you can't help but be drawn in, your curiosity getting the better of you. daesu is the first to make a move, quickly snatching the chocolate bar out of cheongsan's hand. "let me see," he says, examining the package with a critical eye.

after a moment, daesu looks up, a hint of disappointment on his face. "it's expired," he announces, as if that's the final nail in the coffin. but suhyeok is undeterred. "who cares?" he says, a mischievous glint in his eye. "we can still eat it."the room falls silent again, as everyone considers suhyeok's words. then, slowly, a murmur of agreement starts to build. "we can take small bites," someone suggests. "just to calm our hunger a bit."

the discussion quickly gains momentum, with everyone chiming in with their opinions. it's clear that the prospect of sharing the chocolate bar is a tantalizing one, and no one wants to miss out.

the group forms a circle, the chocolate bar placed in the center. one by one, each person takes a small bite, savoring the sweet, rich flavor before passing it on to the next person. as the chocolate bar continues to make its way around the circle, you find yourself standing between suhyeok and cheongsan. you can't help but stare at the chocolate, your eyes fixed on the decreasing size of the bar. with each passing bite, your mouth waters more and more, and you can feel your hunger pangs growing stronger.

the chocolate bar is getting smaller and smaller, and you can feel a sense of urgency building up inside you. you hope that there will be enough left for everyone to have another bite, but as you glance around the circle, you realize that might not be the case.

as suhyeok brings the chocolate bar up to his mouth, you're completely entranced, your eyes fixed on the sweet treat. but as he pauses, his gaze meeting yours, you realize that you're staring directly at him, your eyes locked on his lips. the air seems to freeze around you, and for a moment, it's as if time has stopped. suhyeok's eyes narrow slightly, his expression unreadable, as he takes in the sight of you staring up at him with an unguarded intensity. your eyes, wide and unblinking, seem to be begging for something, and suhyeok's gaze lingers on yours, his face inches from yours. for a moment, it's as if the entire room has melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of charged anticipation.

the room falls silent, with everyone staring at suhyeok and you with a mixture of confusion and awkwardness. it's as if they're all waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. except for namra, who seems to sense that something is off. she elbows suhyeok gently, as if to snap him out of a trance. suhyeok blinks, his expression unchanged, and looks down at the chocolate bar still clutched in his hand.

and that's when he realizes, with a flush of embarrassment, that you were never actually looking at suhyeok's face. you were still fixated on the chocolate bar, your eyes glued to the sweet treat. suhyeok's face hadn't moved, and you were just... staring at the chocolate.

suhyeok clears his throat, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. he hesitates for a moment before offering you the chocolate bar, his eyes locking onto yours with a hint of uncertainty. "here," he says, his voice a little softer than usual. "you can take a bigger bite. it'll count for both of us."

daesu's eyes widen in protest, and he lets out a dramatic whine. "hey, no way! that's not fair!" he complains, his hands on his hips. "we're supposed to be sharing equally!" the group chuckles at daesu's outburst, and suhyeok shoots him a wry glance. "it's just a little more chocolate, daesu," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. "don't be so greedy."

you take the chocolate bar from suhyeok, your fingers brushing against his as you do so. but as you're about to thank him, you suddenly remember the words he spoke to you the night before. "i'm just gonna leave you alone." the memory of those words sparks a flicker of anger within you, and you feel your expression harden.

"no thanks," you say curtly, your voice devoid of gratitude. "i'm not that hungry anymore." you quickly pass the chocolate bar on to cheongsan, who takes a bite with a look of enthusiasm. suhyeok's eyes narrow slightly, a hint of confusion and hurt flickering across his face. but you don't meet his gaze, instead turning away and focusing on the task at hand. the tension between you and suhyeok is palpable, and the group's mood seems to shift in response.

suhyeok's eyes linger on you, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. he seems to be studying you, trying to read the emotions behind your actions. and then, it clicks. he realizes that you're not the same person you were before. you're not the pushover people thought you were. he can sense that you've built a wall around your heart, a high, impenetrable barrier that's guarded with military-grade weapons. and he knows that those weapons are aimed directly at him.

you walk past suhyeok, your eyes fixed on namra, who's leaning against one of the metal racks, a look of quiet observation on her face. you make your way towards her, your footsteps echoing through the room.

as you approach, namra pushes off from the rack and watches you with a concerned expression. you sit down on the floor, your back against the rack, and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. the cool air fills your lungs, and you feel a sense of calm wash over you. you can hear the muffled sounds of the others, but they seem distant, unimportant. all that matters is this moment, this breath, and the sense of peace that comes with it. namra sits down beside you, her presence a comforting silence. she doesn't say anything, doesn't try to offer words of comfort or advice. she simply sits with you, a steady, reassuring presence in a chaotic world.

as you sit there, eyes closed, focusing on your breath, you're not even aware of namra's presence beside you. you're too caught up in your own attempt to escape, to temporarily forget about the dire circumstances that surround you.

mijin sits down in front of you and namra, her eyes scanning your faces as she takes in your calm expressions. for a moment, she just looks at you, a hint of curiosity on her face. then, as if drawn in by the peaceful atmosphere, mijin closes her own eyes and takes a deep breath. she sits down, her back straight, and begins to focus on her own breathing.

the three of you sit in silence, your eyes closed, your faces serene. you look like a meditation class, with you as the instructor guiding your students through a peaceful exercise. mijin and namra seem completely absorbed in the moment, their breathing slow and steady. meanwhile, wujin whispers to joonyeong, nodding discreetly in your direction. "what's going on with them?" he asks, his voice barely audible. joonyeong looks up from his project, his eyes squinting slightly as he takes in the scene. he shrugs, his expression uninterested. "no idea," he says, his voice equally quiet. "maybe they're just really into... breathing."

wujin raises an eyebrow, but joonyeong's already gone back to his project, his focus solely on the task at hand. he's still nursing a grudge about not getting any chocolate, thanks to daesu's sneaky snacking. the memory of that injustice still rankles him, and he's not about to let some mysterious meditation session distract him from his work.

as the three of you continue to sit in silence, the rest of the group begins to take notice. daesu, still licking his fingers from the last bite of chocolate, looks over at you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. cheongsan and suhyeok exchange a glance, their expressions unreadable.

but joonyeong remains focused on his project, his eyes fixed intently on the task at hand. wujin, on the other hand, can't seem to tear his gaze away from the three of you, his eyes fixed on your peaceful faces with a mixture of fascination and confusion.

as you sit in silence, your mind begins to wander to a different time and place. you visualize yourself sitting on the couch in your living room, surrounded by the warm and comforting familiarity of home. your father is sitting beside you, a big smile on his face as the two of you laugh together.

the memory is so vivid, so real, that you can almost feel the softness of the couch beneath you, and the warmth of your father's presence beside you. you can almost hear the sound of his laughter, deep and rich, and feel the way it makes you feel happy and safe.

but as the memory washes over you, it's followed by a wave of sadness and longing. you realize that it's been a while since you last thought about your father, and that's a painful admission. you miss him dearly, and the not knowing - not knowing if he's even alive - is a constant ache in your heart. your eyes begin to sting, and you feel a lump form in your throat. you try to push the emotions away, to focus on the calm and peacefulness of the moment. but it's hard to shake the feeling of loss and longing that's settled over you.

namra's eyes remain closed, but a subtle smile plays on her lips as she visualizes herself sitting on top of a high building. the wind blows gently, carrying warm rays of sunshine that dance across her skin. she feels carefree, unencumbered by worries or responsibilities.

in her mind's eye, she's alone at first, savoring the peace and quiet. but then, she notices a presence beside her. she doesn't need to look to know it's you. she can sense your calm energy, your quiet contemplation. as she "sees" you standing beside her, looking out at the other buildings, a soft smile spreads across her face. it's an unconscious gesture, a reflexive response to the sense of comfort and companionship she feels with you by her side. the smile lingers on her lips, a gentle, serene expression that reflects the peace and tranquility of the moment.

mijin's eyes remain closed, a subtle nod of her head the only outward sign of the vibrant scene unfolding in her mind. she visualizes herself in her own room, surrounded by the familiar comforts of home. her headphones are clamped firmly over her ears, the rich sounds of her favorite rap tracks pulsating through the speakers.

as the music washes over her, mijin starts to rap along, her lips moving silently as she mouths the words. her hands begin to gesture, weaving intricate patterns in the air as she channels the swagger and confidence of her favorite artists. the bass thumps and bumps, the vibrations resonating deep within her bones. mijin feels alive, energized by the music and the freedom of expression it brings. her entire being seems to vibrate with the rhythm, her very essence infused with the raw energy of the rap.

in this private world of sound and motion, mijin is unstoppable, a force of nature unencumbered by the worries and cares of the outside world. she's lost in the music, and the music is lost in her.

wujin walks over to the three of you, his eyes scanning your peaceful faces with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. he squats down in front of you, his voice loud and jarring as he speaks. "what's going on here?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "are you guys having some kind of meditation party or something?" he gazes at each of you in turn, his eyes lingering on your calm expressions. "you know, i didn't realize we were in a zen monastery. i thought we were stuck in a storage closet in our school gym." wujin's words are like a splash of cold water, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere you'd managed to create. you feel a jolt of annoyance at his interruption, but you try to maintain your calm demeanor.

namra lets out a soft sigh, her eyes still closed, as if reluctant to leave the peaceful state she'd achieved. mijin, on the other hand, smacks her lips in annoyance, her eyes snapping open to glare at wujin. "men ruin everything," she mutters, her voice dripping with exasperation, as she gets to her feet. namra follows suit, her movements graceful and fluid. as she stands up, she turns to you and smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. it's a warm, comforting smile, and you feel a sense of solidarity with her. you take a deep breath, feeling the calmness begin to seep away, and get to your feet as well. the three of you stand there for a moment, a sense of shared understanding passing between you, before

mijin turns and walks away, namra following close behind.

wujin's face reddens as he stutters, "w-wait,!" he takes a step forward, his eyes darting between mijin and namra as he defends himself. "y/n is a man too!" he exclaims, as if that somehow justifies his behavior. just then, hroryeong walks into the conversation, a sly grin spreading across her face. "a good one!" she says, as she rolls her eyes at wujin. “the special treatment is getting out of hand..” wujin sighs defeated while going to cheongsan who patted him on the back.

you shake your head, a smile still playing on your lips, as you watch the exchange between wujin and hroryeong. your hair falls across your forehead, partially covering your eyes, and you absently brush it aside, your fingers grazing your skin.

as you move your hair, you catch a glimpse of yourself in your mind's eye, and you can't help but think that your hair must look completely flat and lifeless. you've been cooped up in this place for who knows how long, and you haven't exactly had access to a salon or even a decent hairbrush. you sigh to yourself, wondering what you must look like to the others.

as mijin swiftly changes the subject, the atmosphere shifts and everyone begins to prepare for what's to come. the room fills with the sound of rustling fabrics, clicking buckles, and the occasional grunt as people struggle to get into their gear. knee pads, chest padding, and elbow guards are all being strapped on, each person determined to be ready.

you, meanwhile, are rummaging through a box tucked away on a high shelf, your fingers searching for the perfect pair of protective gloves. as you pull out a pair of worn leather gloves, you wonder if they're from a hockey set – the padding on the palms and the reinforced fingers seem to suggest it. you quickly lace them up, tightening the straps around your wrists until they feel secure. a quick flex of your fingers confirms that you can still grasp objects without issue.

just as you're finishing up, your gaze falls upon a mysterious object tucked away between two crates. it's a thick, metal... something, and it seems to be beckoning you. without thinking, you reach in and wrap your gloved hand around it, feeling a satisfying weight to it. it's heavy, but not unmanageable. as you pull it out, you can't help but wonder what it is, and what it's used for.

as you grasp the mysterious object, you notice a white cover enveloping it, shaped like a long, slender stick. your curiosity piqued, you search for a zipper and, upon finding it, slowly unzip the cover. the sound of the zipper giving way is followed by a collective gasp as the object within is revealed: a sword.

at first glance, it's reminiscent of a fencing sword, but the blade's thickness tells a different story. as you carefully pull the sword from its cover, it emits a clear, ringing sound – a "shling" that sends shivers down your spine. you can't help but stare in awe, the sword's beauty and craftsmanship leaving you breathless.

this is undoubtedly an upgrade from the hammer, and you can't wait to try it out. your friends, equally captivated, gather around, their eyes wide with wonder. "wow!" mijin exclaims, her voice barely above a whisper.

joonyeong, meanwhile, rushes over to you, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight of the sword. "where did you find that?" he asks, his voice filled with excitement.

daesu, not one to be left out, chimes in, "yah! see if there's one more!" but before you can respond, joonyeong speaks up, his eyes still fixed on the sword.

"there isn't another one," he says, his voice laced with a mix of disappointment and reverence. he looks up at you, his eyes shining with excitement. "do you know what this is?" he asks, but you can only shake your head, feeling a bit like a deer caught in the headlights.

joonyeong turns to the others, a sly grin spreading across his face. "this, my friends, is a damn hanwei katana." wujin and cheongsan spring to their feet, their eyes wide with astonishment. "you're telling me someone just casually stashed a limited edition katana in our school's dusty auditorium?" wujin asks incredulously, his voice dripping with skepticism. "what an idiot," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head. "that belongs in a glass case, not collecting dust in some forgotten corner of the school."

hari rolls her eyes good-naturedly at her brother's outburst, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "it's gotta be destiny that you found it here," she says, her voice filled with a sense of wonder.

joonyeong's expression turns serious as he looks at you, his eyes burning with intensity. "this is no ordinary sword," he says, his voice low and measured. "it's a powerful symbol, one that demands respect and caution."

taken aback by joonyeong's solemnity, you clear your throat before offering a awkward smile. "i guess it's about time i had some good karma," you say, trying to lighten the mood.

joonyeong's expression remains serious as he hands the sword back to you. "listen, you need to be careful if you're going to use this," he warns, his voice firm but concerned. "one wrong move, and you could slice someone's hand off." you nod soberly, feeling a sense of responsibility wash over you as you take the sword back.

you carefully slide the sword back into its cover, the sound of the zipper echoing through the air as everyone around you scrambles to arm themselves. metal baseball bats and sharp objects are distributed among the group, each person preparing to defend themselves. you tie the sword's belt around your waist, tightening it until the weight of the sword feels secure against your hip. suhyeok hands a baseball bat to cheongsan, his voice low and serious. "i'll take point, you cover our backs." cheongsan nods, his grip on the bat tightening as the group begins to form a tight circle.

metal crates are pushed into place around them, forming a makeshift barricade. mijin's voice trembles slightly as she speaks, her fear protruding. "you better be right about this,” joonyeong nods, “we've seen so many zombies already... they're not smart enough for this." joonyeong's expression remains calm, reassuring.

“lets do this!”

everything unfolded in a chaotic blur, your brain struggled to keep pace. fragmented images sear themselves into your mind: joonyeong's face contorted in agony, hroryeong's tears streaming down her face as she cowers beside you. your legs tremble beneath you, muscles screaming in protest as you push with every ounce of strength you possess. cheongsan's frantic yells echo in your ears, urging you to keep pushing, to keep fighting.

as the chaos subsided, you're left sitting in stunned silence, exhaustion washing over you like a wave. the same feeling of numbness, of detachment, that you experienced when you were trapped in that car comes flooding back. it's as if life itself has lost all meaning, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. why has this feeling returned? what triggered it? the questions swirl in your mind, but the answers remain elusive. what even happened? what is happening now.

you're lost in a world of silence, oblivious to mijin's repeated attempts to rouse you. but then, as if a switch has been flipped, your hearing suddenly returns to normal. "y/n!" mijin's voice cuts through the fog, and you turn to her in confusion. she's standing beside you, her expression a mix of concern and urgency. "cmon, we need to go," she says, trying to sound harsh but failing miserably. she knows all too well what you're going through, and her words come out laced with empathy.

you blink once, twice, and suddenly the world around you snaps into focus. you're sitting outside the gym, the bright sunlight a stark contrast to the darkness you'd faced just moments before. and then you see him - onjo's father, embracing cheongsan in a tight hug. memories come flooding back, and you recall the desperation, the feeling of being trapped. the doors had been locked, impassable... until they weren't. a man in a green bomber jacket had appeared, his face etched with the same exhaustion and terror that you felt. he'd been through the same hell, and somehow, he'd managed to unlock the doors and save you all.

you gaze down at your hands, surprised to find them steady and still. normally, they'd be shaking uncontrollably, but not today. today, they're calm, serene even. you can't help but wonder why. everyone around you seems to be trembling with fear, their eyes wide with anxiety. but you... you're numb. your gaze drifts up, past mijin, to suhyeok, who's staring down at his feet with a look of shame etched on his face. you've seen that expression before, just last night, when the two of you were arguing. the memory replays in your mind like a broken record, refusing to be silenced.

mijin's gentle tug on your arm breaks the spell, and you allow her to help you up. as you stand, you try to shake off the haze, to regain some semblance of clarity. but your mind remains foggy, refusing to cooperate.

mr. nam's concerned voice cuts through the din, "are you kids alright?" he scans the group, his eyes lingering on each of you before moving on. when his gaze falls on you, it pauses, and you sense a flicker of surprise. you follow his gaze to your shirt, and your eyebrow twitches in confusion. a portion of the fabric is torn, leaving a gaping hole. not again. you try to recall when it happened, but your brain refuses to cooperate. you grasp the torn fabric, willing yourself to remember, but the memories remain elusive.

mr. nam's voice cuts through the silence, "okay, are you all able to run?" the group exchanges hesitant glances before nodding in unison, still refusing to speak. mr. nam sighs, a mix of relief and concern etched on his face. "good."

he takes a deep breath before issuing instructions, "if you go straight through the tennis courts and pass the construction site, you'll hit the mountain." he points behind you, and you turn to follow his gesture, taking in the makeshift plan he's devised.

but before you can even process the information, your hand is grasped, and you're suddenly pulled into a sprint. you stumble forward, regaining your balance as you take in the chaos around you. everyone is scrambling, running up the hill near the gym, desperate to escape the horrors behind them.

you glance back, and your heart sinks. more of the infected are closing in, their twisted faces contorted in a snarl. you whip your head back around, focusing on the path ahead. your legs pump furiously as you push yourself to keep up. it's then that you notice suhyeok's hand still grasping yours, his grip tight as he pulls you along.

mr. nam's voice echoes from behind, "the tennis courts! run!" the sound of heavy footsteps and ragged breathing fills the air as your group sprints towards the gate. daesu's shout of "c'mon!" urges you on as wujin finally reaches the door and flings it open. everyone pours inside, a chaotic tide of panicked bodies.

you release suhyeok's hand as you enter, taking a moment to ensure everyone makes it in safely. hari's struggling to fend off an infected with her bow, but she's suddenly tackled by another. mr. nam leaps into action, saving her from the brink of disaster. "hurry!" you shout, relief washing over you as hari stumbles through the gate, unscathed.

mr. nam slams the gate shut behind her, and the group takes off, racing towards the far end of the tennis court. but as you run, you realize with a sinking feeling that the zombies can still see you, their moans and screams growing louder as they give chase. everyone skids to a stop, frantically scanning their surroundings for an escape. "oh fuck.." you gulp, a cold dread creeping up your spine.

wujin's voice trembles as he asks daesu, "what do we do?" the group's panic is palpable, and you can't help but wonder if you've simply traded one trap for another. in an instant, the gates that had been locked just moments before burst open, succumbing to the crushing pressure of the zombie horde. the bloody, snarling mass surges forward, their eyes fixed on you with an unrelenting hunger. you react instinctively, grabbing hroryeong's arm and pulling her close as you take off in a sprint.

cheongsan leaps into action, wielding his bat with deadly precision as he smashes aside the zombies that aren't tangled in the tennis net. the sound of crunching bone and snapping metal fills the air, a grim testament to his determination.

meanwhile, mr. nam rummages through his bag, producing a red stick that he flicks open with a practiced motion. a blazing red flare erupts from the stick, its intense light and ear-piercing whistle drawing the zombies' attention like moths to a flame. the creatures inside and outside the court converge on the flare, their mindsless bodies driven solely by their insatiable hunger.

seizing the distraction, you spin hroryeong around, shouting to the others, "c'mon, guys!" the group gives chase, hot on your heels as you make a beeline for the opposite door.

just as you're about to grab the handle, a tan, larger hand clamps down on yours, holding you back. suhyeok's eyes scan the surrounding area, his gaze darting back and forth before nodding in satisfaction. with a gentle tug, he opens the gate, allowing you and hroryeong to slip through, the others close behind.

you spin around, ensuring everyone's safe exit, but your gaze falls upon a scene that makes your heart sink. mr. nam has closed the gate behind onjo and cheongsan, trapping them outside. onjo's face contorts in desperation as she rips away from cheongsan's grasp and slams into the gate, frantically trying to reopen it.

her words trail off as she notices the bite mark on her father's hand. tears well up in her eyes, and her face crumples in anguish. you watch, frozen in horror, as the reality of the situation sets in.

you tear your gaze away, looking toward the trees that lie ahead. you take a few hesitant steps forward, trying to get a better view of the path ahead. the trees seem to loom before you, their branches creaking ominously in the wind. you pause, unsure of what to do next, as the sounds of onjo's despairing cries echo through the air.

you take a few more cautious steps forward, scanning the trees for any signs of zombies. your eyes dart back and forth, searching for any movement or telltale signs of danger. but for now, the coast seems clear. the trees are so dense that you can't even see any buildings in the distance, which means it'll take some time to reach the construction site mr. nam mentioned.

just as you're starting to feel a sense of relief, you catch a glimpse of someone peeking around a tree. your heart skips a beat as the person quickly ducks back out of sight. a wave of unease washes over you. who - or what - was that? could it be a zombie that hasn't noticed you yet? or is it someone else, someone who might be a threat? you instinctively crouch down, trying to make yourself as small and quiet as possible.

you take slow, deliberate steps towards the nearest tree, trying to be just as sneaky as the mysterious person. your senses are on high alert, ready for whatever might be lurking just out of sight.

you focus intently on the person, your eyes squinting as you try to make out any distinguishing features. the person darts to another tree, using it as cover. you hold your breath, waiting for them to make another move.

and then, in a flash, the person takes off again, giving you a better look. it's a man, dressed in a plaid shirt that's even more tattered than yours. his baggy jeans are torn and frayed, and he's clutching something in his hand, though you can't quite make out what it is.

just as you're taking in this information, you hear the sound of footsteps rushing towards you, accompanied by heavy breathing. you swiftly move behind your tree, out of sight, and signal for your friends to stop. you press a finger to your lips, warning them to be quiet.

daesu, who's in the lead, looks at you with confusion etched on his face. you slowly point in the direction of the mysterious man, and your friends quickly hide behind nearby trees, thinking that zombies are approaching. namra slips behind the same tree as you, her voice barely above a whisper. "it's a human." she breathes, confirming your suspicions. you glance at her, nodding in agreement.

with a slow, deliberate movement, you draw out your sword, holding it with both hands as you press your back against the tree. you're poised, ready to swing into action at a moment's notice.

wujin mouths to you from his hiding spot behind a large tree, where hroryeong is also concealed, "you don't even know how to use that!" his eyes sparkling with frustration. you roll your eyes good-naturedly and mouth back, "it's gotta be the same as a baseball bat." wujin's expression turns incredulous, and he rolls his eyes in response. just then, the sound of snapping branches and crunching leaves fills the air as the mysterious person approaches. you tense, ready to react. with a swift motion, you step out from behind the tree, sword at the ready. the blade comes to rest against the person's adam's apple, and they freeze, eyes wide with fear.

the person hastily drops their weapon and raises their hands in surrender. "wait!" they exclaim, taking in the sight of multiple young adults emerging from the trees. "i mean no harm to any of you!" they declare, attempting to sound brave despite the quiver in their voice.

his eyes meet yours, and you take in his features. he's gotta be older than you, with that strong, toned build and a few scratch marks on his face. despite his rugged appearance, there's something about him that seems... put together. hroryeong asks quietly, "w-whats your name?" breaking the silence. she suddenly feels like speaking for some reason.

wujin gently pushes down on your hands, signaling for you to lower the sword. you realize you're still holding it up and begin to sheathe it. the boy takes advantage of the distraction to slowly retrieve his axe, his movements cautious. “kyungho, im a senior at bomoon high.” as he stands up, you can't help but notice his stature. he's tall, with broad shoulders and a rugged build that makes him look like an actual lumberjack. cheongsan steps forward and asks, "is bomoon high infected too?" but you're too busy taking in kyungho's appearance to focus on the conversation.

daesu whispers to suhyeok, "how is he still so handsome even though he's all dirty like us?" but his voice carries, and the whole group hears him. kyungho's face flushes, and he looks down, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. he smiles awkwardly, his eyes meeting yours, and you feel a flutter in your chest.

kyungho's eyes lock onto yours, and he says, "hey, i know you." you're taken aback, unsure of what to say. "me?" you ask, incredulous. the group's attention shifts to you, their faces filled with curiosity. mijin steps forward, her arm crossed, her expression skeptical. "you know him, y/n-ah?" she asks, her tone implying she doesn't quite trust kyungho. you shake your head, "n-no, i don't think..." but kyungho interrupts, taking a step forward. "you're that kid in the bike store!" he exclaims, a smile spreading across his face.

daesu whispers to suhyeok, "he called him a kid when they're only a year apart.." his voice is laced with amusement, as if he's watching a show. suhyeok's eyebrows furrow, his expression unreadable as he takes in the interaction between you and kyungho.

the memories of kyungho come flooding back, and you're surprised you didn't recognize him at first. he looked so beat up, but now that you remember, you recall the cute boy you had followed into the bike store. your face grows hot as you realize everyone is still staring at you, awaiting your response.

"right... i remember now," you stammer, trying to play it cool. "it's good to see you." you manage a small smile, but you can't help the way your heart skips a beat as kyungho's eyes lock onto yours. you feel yourself melting under his gaze, and you look away, trying to compose yourself. but you can't shake off the feeling that kyungho's eyes are still on you, and you sneak a glance back at him. his expression is soft, and he's smiling at you, making your heart flutter even more.

“why is y/n so shy..?” daesu's whisper is cut off as suhyeok steps forward, his tall, athletic build positioning him slightly in front of you, as if shielding you from kyungho. the two of them are almost evenly matched in height and build, although kyungho appears slightly more muscular.

suhyeok's gaze is skeptical as he asks, "so you're saying you made it all the way from bomoon high, by yourself?" kyungho's eyes flicker to suhyeok, and he nods calmly. "yeah, today was the day some of the seniors went into the city for a project, and suddenly a bunch of those zombies got into the cafe we were at. luckily, i escaped through the back door," kyungho explains, pointing back in the direction he came from. "so i traveled all this way to find someone, and i've been on the run since."

wujin and daesu nod in unison, seeming to accept kyungho's story. you, however, are intrigued by his survival skills. "how could you survive by yourself for this long?" you ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. kyungho holds up a finger, as if to say "wait," before slipping off the long tote bag he'd been carrying on his back. he rummages through it, revealing a stash of food and snacks that makes everyone's eyes widen in surprise.

"i managed to break into a convenience store," he explains, a hint of pride in his voice. "so that's where i've been staying. i've been looking for people who survived, but you guys are the first people i've seen in days." the group's reaction is immediate. everyone's eyes light up at the sight of food, and they exchange excited glances. kyungho's face breaks out into a warm smile as he continues, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. "we can all head back! i'll show you guys. you can eat and sleep for the night." his enthusiasm is infectious, and the group's mood begins to lift at the prospect of food and shelter.

kyungho tosses a loaf of bread to daesu, who catches it and immediately tears into it, savoring the taste. hroryeong speaks up, "that'd be great," but cheongsan cuts her off, his expression apologetic.

"we can't," he says, his words hitting you like a ton of bricks. "i'm sorry, but we're trying to get out of the city." your heart sinks, realizing that you won't be able to rest and eat in a safe place after all. kyungho's face falls, but he quickly recovers, his expression curious. "oh, well, me too!" he exclaims, zipping up his bag. "where are you guys headed?" suhyeok takes over, explaining, "there's a construction site down that way. we need to pass it to get to the mountain." kyungho's eyes light up with interest, and he nods, as if considering something.

kyungho glances back in the direction he came from, a thoughtful expression on his face. "i mean, i can go with you guys if you'd allow me," he says, turning back to the group. "but the store isn't that far from here. we could make it and go first thing tomorrow. come on, you guys look like death." he tries to persuade the group, his eyes locked on cheongsan.

you turn to cheongsan, your eyes pleading. "we won't survive long out there if we don't eat and rest properly. one night," you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. the rest of the group's bodies seem to be echoing your plea, their tired and starving eyes begging for relief.the group falls silent for almost a minute, the only sound the heavy breathing of exhausted bodies. cheongsan looks at suhyeok, who's shaking his head in disagreement, but then his gaze sweeps the rest of the group, taking in their desperate expressions. finally, he nods. "lead the way," he says to kyungho, who grins triumphantly.

"awesome, come on," kyungho says, gesturing for the group to follow him. "if we move quickly and quietly, we'll get there in no time." you thank cheongsan before falling in behind kyungho, who takes the lead. suhyeok crosses his arms, looking disbelieving, but the rest of the group follows kyungho, their footsteps quiet and hopeful.

[musette22]

I really wonder if Marvel have some evanstan bloopers hidden away somewhere. I recently watched the vid of them laughing together in the Ghosted bts, and you expect me to believe there wasn't lots of that when they worked at Marvel together? I'm pretty sure we'd all happily watch a half hour video of their bloopers.

Oh there must be, definitely. They're both professionals, but they're also goofs and great friends with a similar sense of humour, going off all the times we saw them lauging together during the CW press tour, and they trained and filmed together for ages. They absolutely messed up together sometimes, no doubt about that! It's such a travesty that we've only gotten a few Evanstan bloopers from Marvel 😫 (almost makes one think that was intentional...)

We want bloopers, we want footage of the two of them training for the Helicarrier scene, we want more of the two of them lauging together like they did here

And we want it nowwwwwww. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ʙ ᴇ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴅ ⸻

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem Reader Part 3

Headcanon: Your relationship with Damian was good. But he decided that it was time for you to meet his family...

Notes: Reader is Dick's ex. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Damian sat at the grand dining table, surrounded by his family, each of them indulging in the rare moment of peace that only the Wayne family could afford. Bruce, as always, was silently observing his children while Jason, still in his worn leather jacket, slouched in his chair, seemingly bored by the usual family gathering.

“Next week,” Damian finally said, breaking the silence in his usual cool tone.

Everyone turned their attention to him, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, sensing something was coming.

“I’ll be inviting my future wife to dinner,” Damian continued, his voice steady, but with a flicker of something almost smug in his eyes. “She’ll be here next Wednesday.”

The rest of the family went silent for a moment, their gazes flicking to each other. Alfred raised an eyebrow, and Jason blinked in surprise.

"Wait, what?" Jason half-laughed, his voice laced with disbelief. "You're finally letting go of your stupid obsession, huh? You found someone who's not going to make you brood in the corner for hours?"

Damian’s eyes narrowed as his hand clenched around the edge of the table. Jason had been poking fun at him for years, always teasing him about his quiet obsession with you, the one person Damian had never let go of, even after years.

"I’m not obsessed," Damian muttered, glaring at his older brother. "You wouldn't understand."

Jason smirked. "Yeah, well, color me surprised. I didn't think you'd ever let another woman near you."

Damian only shot him another sharp look before getting up from the table, his cloak swirling behind him as he made his way to you. Jason's comment had struck a nerve, but he wasn't about to let anyone know it. Not yet.

When Damian found you later that evening, he was already planning the next steps in his mission to make you his—officially this time. You were in your apartment, tending to the plants you loved, when he knocked on your door. Without waiting for an invitation, he entered, his presence suddenly filling the room.

“What’s going on?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, already sensing something was off.

Damian’s lips curled into a small, unreadable smile. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, crossing the room toward you. “Next week, I’m having dinner with my family. You’ll be joining us.”

Your eyes narrowed. “I’m not having dinner with your family.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I think you will.”

“Damian,” you practically barked, “No! I'm not doing this. I’m Dick’s ex. There’s no way I’m going to walk into your family dinner while he’s sitting there. No way."

Damian remained unfazed, his smile remaining in place, though a glint of amusement appeared in his eyes as he watched you argue.

“You’re not listening beloved,” he said calmly. He had grown taller than you in the years since, taller than Dick now, a fact he didn’t fail to take advantage of. As you continued to protest, he reached forward, gently placing one hand on your waist.

“I’m not asking you. I’m telling you,” Damian said, his voice soft but firm. His fingers tightened ever so slightly as he pulled you closer, not letting you escape from his grasp.

Your protests faltered when his lips descended on yours. You punched his chest half-heartedly, but it was no use—he wasn’t letting go. Slowly, you gave in, closing your eyes as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled away, his expression softened, though his tone remained authoritative. “You’re going to wear something pretty,” he murmured, his eyes scanning your face with a look that could melt anyone. “You’ll be beautiful, and you’ll do as I say. Understand?”

Your lips parted, still slightly breathless from the kiss, but you were too stubborn to admit it. “You can’t just—”

“Yes, I can,” he interrupted. “I will pick the dress. Don’t argue with me.”

The day of dinner came, and as much as you wanted to fight Damian’s demands, a small part of you knew you couldn’t. You dressed carefully, though the idea of stepping into the Wayne family’s world again filled you with a strange unease. Still, you found yourself in the dress Damian had picked—a gorgeous emerald dress that fit you in all the right places.

As you adjusted the zipper, a soft knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Damian entered, looking every bit the heir to the Wayne legacy—suit sharp, hair perfectly in place, and that confident smirk you were starting to despise… and like.

“Let me,” he said softly, stepping behind you. You barely had time to process his words before his hand was at your back, gently pulling the zipper up. You stood still, feeling the heat rise to your face as he leaned closer, pressing his lips to your shoulder. His breath was warm against your skin as he kissed his way up to your neck.

“You look beautiful beloved,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin. He turned your face toward him, his gaze softening as he kissed your eyelid. He met your gaze with an unsettling intensity.

He kissed your neck softly, his lips leaving a trail that made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t want to admit. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

You blinked, trying to hide the heat in your face, but it was hard when he was so close, his lips barely grazing your skin with every word. “Damian, please,” you whispered, but you weren’t sure if you were pleading for him to stop or to keep going.

He pulled back slowly, his eyes tracing your features with a satisfied gleam. “When we get there, you’re going to smile and behave. You’re going to look stunning and make them all understand why I picked you.”

He smirked again, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist. “Ready?” he asked, his voice low. You barely had time to nod before he led you out of the apartment, his arm wrapped around your waist, the night unfolding before you.

The atmosphere at Wayne Manor was tense the moment you walked in. Everyone—Alfred, Bruce, and Jason—turned to look at you, their expressions a mix of surprise and disbelief. Jason’s jaw dropped first, his eyes wide with realization.

“Wait… Y/N?” he blurted out, eyes flicking between you and Damian.

You froze, your gaze meeting Dick’s across the room. His face lit up with a mixture of shock and delight.

His face softened, a surprised grin spreading across his face. “Y/N?” he asked, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “Are you… are you back?”

He looked genuinely happy to see you, like he thought this moment would come eventually. But that happiness quickly faltered when he saw the way Damian was looking at you, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

But Damian, standing behind you, didn't give Dick a chance to finish his sentence. His hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as he glared at his older brother.

Damian’s smirk was deadly as he placed his hand possessively on the small of your back, guiding you to your seat. “Back?” Damian repeated with a sneer. “What do you mean by that Grayson?”

Dick stiffened, the smile fading from his face. Bruce looked between the two, his eyes narrowing. “What’s going on here, Damian?”

Damian’s voice was calm, almost smug as he leaned closer to you, his hand still at your back, possessive but gentle. “What is so hard to understand? I said I will bring my girlfriend, didn't I?”

The dinner started off awkwardly. Bruce, sensing the tension, tried to steer the conversation in a neutral direction. But it was clear that the elephant in the room was you—and how Damian had finally, and dramatically, claimed you as his.

Just as everyone was simmering in discomfort, Bruce suddenly broke the silence. “So… are you two planning on getting married anytime soon?” he asked, his tone casual, though there was a sharp edge to it.

You blinked at him. “What?”

Damian, without skipping a beat, gripped your hand a little tighter and looked at you with that confident, almost predatory gaze. “Yes, in the near future.”

The entire room went silent. Jason nearly choked on his water, while Tim looked like he was processing the chaos. Dick’s face went blank, the surprise evident in his eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, your mind racing.

Damian just smiled. “No. I’m not.”

And the entire Wayne family? They were left in stunned silence.

Part 1. Part 2.

Should I make a part 4?

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[nachojaehyun]

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

© nachojaehyun, 2024.

[alisonsfics]

guest lecturer - part one

pairing: tyler owens x student!reader

summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i COMPLETELY made up some science stuff for some dialogue, so if anybody actually knows stuff about meteorology or physics, this may be a little excruciating for you

part 2

You flipped through your notes, jogging your memory on last week’s lecture. The lecture hall was silent. Half of the students were falling asleep. The other half were cramming and finishing assignments for other classes.

Your professor came running through the door. Her shoes squeaked on the floor. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught in the rain.” She quickly apologized, setting her bag down at her desk.

You grabbed a pen out of your bag, preparing to start your notes as your professor got settled in.

“We have a surprise guest speaker today for you all, who should be here in just a minute.” She announced to the class. There was a collective sigh from the room. Guest lecturers were notoriously boring and seemed to drag on and on about nothing.

You started doodling in your notebook, mentally preparing for the longest two hours of your life.

“I know as meteorology students, you are all aware of the storm chaser Tyler Owens and his YouTube channel.” She began to introduce the guest.

A few of the students perked up at the mention of Tyler’s name, including you. You were a big fan of Tyler and watched most of his videos. You tried to not get your hopes up, assuming the guest speaker was just going to be someone on his team.

You started to zone out, your thoughts drifting to the marvelous Tyler Owens. He was a mix of supermodel meets daredevil scientist. He’d been a guilty pleasure crush of yours for a while.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard your professor say “Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Owens.”

Your eyes snapped up and landed on Tyler walking to the front of the room. You mentally cursed your decision to sit in the third row. You felt too exposed being somewhere that Tyler Owens could see you.

The presence of Tyler at the front of the room grabbed everyone’s attention. The few students who were fans of his work got excited to see one of their idols. The girls in the room that didn’t know who he was perked up because Tyler was the perfect mix of handsome and rugged.

“Thank you, Dr. Hannigan,” Tyler thanked your professor for introducing him.

Tyler’s eyes drifted around the room. As he became more of a niche celebrity, he was getting used to being ogled by a room full of girls. Wherever he went, there were girls waiting and drooling over him.

You sat up straighter in your seat, feeling thankful today was the day you chose to dress cuter than normal.

Tyler’s eyes landed on you. There was something different about you. All the other girls were staring at his muscles, while you weren’t an exception to that, there was more to it. You were hanging on to every word he said. He could see your interest in not just him, but what he was talking about.

His eyes ran over your body before continuing with his next point. You felt your skin heat up under his gaze. You quickly crossed your legs and tried to distract yourself from the aching between your legs.

He made a few jokes relating back to tornadoes. Each one was met with a room full of flirty giggles. Half of them didn’t even sound like they understood the jokes.

You weren’t blaming them for ogling him. His very presence in front of you made you think God was sending you a treat to apologize for how catastrophic midterm week had been.

But, you were at least paying attention to what he was talking. Some were just picturing him naked.

“So, what my team is currently working on is efforts to deescalate, or for lack of a better word, control tornadoes.” He started to explain his work. The facade of a tornado-wrangling cowboy had the entire class enthralled.

All of a sudden, before you knew what you were doing, your hand shot up in the air. You didn’t process that you’d actually have to speak to Tyler if you wanted to ask him a question.

His eyes quickly met yours. He was eager to finally have a question to answer. “Let me guess, you’re gonna say it’s science fiction? That it’s scientifically impossible?” He asked you, anticipating the usual feedback he got.

You just smirked and shook your head. “I was going to ask if your work had anything to do with the Lawson’s theory of balance and imbalance?” You asked, fidgeting with your pencil.

Tyler furrowed his brow and had to stop his jaw from dropping. It wasn’t often that people could debate back and forth with him and challenge him.

The class waited as you caught him off guard. “She’s one of our brightest students.” Dr. Hannigan said, from her desk off to the side. You felt yourself sit up a little straighter as you stumped one of your idols.

You weren’t what was Tyler was expecting at all.

“You know what? You’re absolutely spot on. You want to come up here for a second and help me out?” He asked you. The heat rushed to your cheeks and your palms started sweating.

You quickly walked down the stairs to the front of the room. Tyler eyes stayed glued to you the whole time you walked towards him. “Tyler,” He repeated with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand.

You felt goosebumps as his strong hand grabbed yours. “Y/N,” You struggled to even find the words to introduce yourself. He noticed the electricity as your fingers grazed his.

He turned his attention back to the rest of the class. “So, to accommodate for Lawson’s theory, like Y/N mentioned, we have to do the opposite of what’s expected. Storms expect things. It’s just in their nature, so you have to do the unexpected.” He explained to the class.

He turned back to you, and your heart started beating faster. “Put your hands out in front of you, palms facing down.” He quietly instructed you. You quickly followed his directions.

“So, I’m gonna push against her hands. Since she’s expecting it, she’ll push back.” He said to the class. He took his hands and rested them under yours. He nodded and smiled at you, then he started pushing up on your hands.

You pushed back down against his hands. He was careful to not push too hard because he was much stronger than you. “See, there’s equal resistance.” He said, looking at how your hands stayed in the same place.

“Okay, now we’ll do it again, but this time we’ll use this.” He told you. Then, he fished something out of his pocket, and you realized it was a blindfold. He gently pulled it over your eyes, making sure not to pull on your hair. He placed his hands under yours again.

He softly counted down for you since you couldn’t see him, “3… 2… and 1…”

Instead of pushing against your hands, Tyler grabbed your hands and let you push his hands down with your own. You stumbled forward a step since there was no resistance.

Your hands instinctively reached out to keep yourself from falling and landed on his shoulders. He quickly grabbed your forearms, steadying you. You couldn’t see him, but he was smiling at you with a look of awe. You fascinated him.

He let go of your arms after you regained your balance. “Brilliantly done,” he whispered to you as he carefully took the blindfold off of you. You felt a shiver go down your back as his breath hit your neck.

“It’s all about doing the unexpected.” He said, to the class. Then, the bell chimed throughout the hall. “Alright, see you next week. Don’t forget about the reading.” Dr. Hannigan yelled over the rush of girls swarming towards Tyler.

You hurried back to your seat to grab your backpack. As Tyler was swarmed, his eyes stayed glued on you. He watched you as you walked away, grinning to himself.

Not wanting to get caught up in the swarm of girls, you grabbed your bag and ran off to your next class. Tyler lost you in the crowd, but couldn’t get you off his mind.

You were sitting in your next class when you got an email from Dr. Hannigan. It read: “I know you all had lots of questions for Mr. Owens, so he has agreed to host office hours at 3pm today in my office.”

You felt your stomach do a flip as you thought about being in a room with him again. You debated whether or not to go. You didn’t want to get swept up in another mad frenzy of girls hitting on Tyler, but you wanted to see him again.

Once your class ended, it was like your feet had a mind of their own as you found yourself walking towards your professor’s office.

It was a small office, so you expected to see a line out the door. It was eerily quiet, and you didn’t see anyone.

Turns out, if the words weren’t coming out of Mr. Tornado Dreamboat’s mouth, your peers weren’t interested. So, none of them checked their emails.

You softly knocked on the door and heard Tyler call out, “Yeah, come in.”

You slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Tyler lit up once he saw that it was you. He’d been hoping you’d show up.

You’d expected your professor to be here as well, so your nerves got worse when you realized the two of you were alone.

He was sitting at your professor’s desk. You noticed the playing cards lying on the desk, like he’d been playing Solitaire. “Slow day?” You asked, gesturing towards the cards.

He chuckled to himself and nodded. “Yeah, you’re the first person to show up.” He said, laughing. You sat down across from him and started to feel less nervous.

The giant desk between the two of you was a good deterrent to stop you from doing anything stupid like trying to kiss him.

“Thank you for helping out in class. I was dying for somebody to ask a question. Everyone was just staring. And I’m sorry for almost making you fall.” He started making small talk. The conversation flowed really naturally.

“I’m just really fascinated by your work. I have so many questions.” You said, smiling back at him. He could see the enthusiasm on your face, and he knew you weren’t faking anything.

“Oh yeah, Dr. Hannigan sent me your midterm paper a few weeks ago. It was pretty brilliant stuff. I was trying to figure why your name sounded familiar. I think that’s why. You should come out for a ride sometime. Get some field experience. I’d love to take you.” He praised you.

You couldn’t help but get a little bashful. Your idol, who you had a massive crush on, was praising your work and wanted to work with you. The thought of spending time alone with Tyler out in the field was enough to make your stomach do flips.

“You really read my paper? I brought it with me. I wanted to ask your opinion on some things.” You said, grabbing your paper out of your bag. He nodded, enthusiastically.

He wheeled his chair around to your side of the desk, so he was sitting right next to you. Your nerves that had been starting to fade were back in full force. It was different when Tyler was two inches away from you. He leaned his arms on the desk, his one arm pressing up against yours.

You could smell his cologne, and it was all you could think about. Your mind was just a blur of cedar and hints of vanilla. “So, I umm…what I wa-wanted to show you was…” you mumbled, flipping through your paper.

Tyler softly smirked to himself. He interrupted you and put his hand on top of your paper, forcing you to look at him. “Do I really make you that nervous?” He asked you, barely above a whisper.

Your eyes were glued on his. His deep emerald eyes drawing you in. You couldn’t even muster up a response. You were speechless as you watched how intently he stared back at you.

“Yeah? I make you nervous, honey?” He asked, in a softer tone. The pet name took you by surprise. A muffled whine escaped your lips. You hadn’t realized you made the sound until you heard it. He held your chin, stopping you from looking away.

You quickly crossed your legs, trying to ignore the way he was making you feel. He brushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“I guess we’ll just have to find a way to loosen you up then.” He teased. The words went straight to your core.

Tyler watched the way you swallowed as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I need to know if you’re okay with this, honey. Gotta use your words,” he coaxed you.

“Please, Tyler,” you begged him.

He smirked and grabbed your hips. He effortlessly picked you up and sat you on the edge of the desk. “You were distracting me so badly when I was giving my lecture. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He said, toying with the hem of your skirt.

Tyler didn’t believe his ears when he heard you whimper. His eyes shot up to lock onto yours. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take real good care of you.” He assured you.

He pressed sloppy kisses along your jawline. You raked your fingers down Tyler’s back. He continued to play with the fabric of your skirt. With a burst of confidence, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your bare upper thigh, under your skirt.

Tyler stopped kissing you. A cocky grin grew on his face. “That was so fuckin’ hot,” he groaned, kissing your lips. You hungrily kissed him back. His thumb caressed the inside of your thigh.

Following your lead, he let his hand sneak higher up your leg. He could feel you getting more desperate. As his hand got closer to where you wanted him most, he could feel your skin growing hot.

He ran his thumb over your panties, feeling a small wet spot. Your moan was muffled as he kissed you.

He started to pull your panties to the side, and you both heard the doorknob start to jiggle.

You both quickly pulled apart, and he set you on the ground. You managed to quickly smooth out your skirt and grab your backpack.

The door opened, and you recognized one of your classmates. “Hey, welcome in,” Tyler waved at them, pretending he wasn’t pissed that you got interrupted.

You watched as Tyler discreetly wiped his hand on the back of his jeans. “Those were all the questions I had. Thank you for your help.” You thanked Tyler before rushing out the door.

Tyler wanted to run after you, but he couldn’t now that someone was watching.

You practically ran back to your apartment. You didn’t want to show your face. Of course, no one knew about your meeting with Tyler, but you felt like everyone knew.

You were worried that other student found the whole thing suspicious. And what if he told your classmates or Dr. Hannigan? Soon, the whole campus would know you were the girl that tried to fuck a guest lecturer.

You spent the evening binge watching your favorite tv show. You hoped it would distract you from your embarrassment, but it didn’t. You were brought out of your thoughts when you got another email from Dr. Hannigan.

“Good evening class. I’m glad you all enjoyed the guest lecturer today. Mr. Owens told me he was very impressed by all of you and your interesting questions. I forgot to mention it in class, but his team currently is seeking an intern to work with them over spring break. I highly recommend that all of you apply. You can email Mr. Owens at tyowens@gmail.com. Best, Dr. Hannigan.”

You stared at the email address, deciding what to do. It would be a great opportunity. Tyler could really teach you a lot. But now, the thought of seeing Tyler made you want to hide in your bed.

You quickly deleted the email, so you couldn’t change your mind and went to bed.

The next two weeks were completely normal. You’d almost completely forgotten about your almost-hookup with Tyler. The only time he popped in your head was when you were lying awake at night. You couldn’t get the thoughts of his fingers out of your head.

It was all fine. Until, Dr. Hannigan stopped you after class.

“Is this about my assignment? I know it was a few hours late. I’ve just been a little distracted recently. It won’t happen again.” You quickly apologized.

Dr. Hannigan shook her head. “Mr. Owens reached out to me about you.” She told you. You panicked.

“What did he say?” You asked, trying to not sound too desperate.

There was no reason for Tyler to tell Dr. Hannigan about your almost-quickie. What if there were cameras? What if she knew? What if you got expelled? Your mind raced with different worst case scenarios.

“He said he was expecting you to apply for the internship, but he didn’t see an application from you. He was really impressed with your midterm paper, and he said the internship was yours if you wanted it. I think this would be a great opportunity for you, but it’s up to you. So, what should I tell him?” She asked you.

You were extremely flattered. Tyler wasn’t trying to avoid you. In fact, he basically had handpicked you to come work with him. You could turn it down.

“You can tell him I would love the opportunity.” You said, smiling at her.

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[inbabylontheywept]

Weird Grandpa Dale Story #1

The day started with me digging up cactus. Grandpa Dale had a weird beef with cactuses, bad enough to pay me 10 cents for every pound I turned in. Looking back at it, I think they offended him because they could exist without his consent: They didn't need his water, they didn't need his fertilizer, and they certainly didn't need his permission. 

And that, he simply could not abide. 

Grandpa Dale had been doing something weird that whole morning. I knew because I'd been able to watch him since sunrise. Every time I took a break from digging cactus to look back at the house, I saw him doing something with the gopher holes. 

That made me nervous. Things never went well when he started messing with the gophers.  Earlier that month he'd tried gassing them out, and all he got from that effort was nasty looking blisters up both arms. He almost never complained about anything, but he griped all day about how bad those blisters hurt. When his wife suggested that he go to the hospital he said No, what am I gonna tell them? That my trench got overrun? They wouldn't buy that. They'd think I was cooking meth. 

Which was funny to hear, but also, true, and also, enough for me to know better than to get involved in future gopher battles. 

Which is to admit that I did get involved. But I should've known better. A few hours in, he invited me over, gave me a cold soda, and showed me what he had set up: Two camping chairs, a wicked sharp shovel, a car battery, and a long length of copper wire leading to a pit he'd dug in the middle of the yard. Told me that if I stayed a bit and took a break, cooled down there with a soda in the shade, I'd see something amazing. I asked him if there was even a chance I could get hurt by this "something amazing", and he said "no," which I knew was a bald faced lie. But I believed him because I wanted to believe him. Because I wanted to know what he'd done, and I wanted to sit there in the shade with my grandpa. I also figured, hey, maybe getting gassed taught him a lesson. 

(Never, ever assume that the kind of person willing to break out chemical weapons against gophers is capable of being taught a lesson.) 

So I sat down in my chair and he beamed at that. He loved having an audience. Then I watched him lean forward and tap the ends of the wire against the battery terminals.

And that's where everything went wrong.  

The first thing that hit me was the yard itself. Little bits of sand and grit flying fast enough to hit my skin and bite. It took a year and change for all the little bits to work their way out. But I didn't even feel it at the time, because of what happened after. 

I genuinely think he'd imagined the gophers getting launched out of the holes, disoriented but alive. I think that shovel was there to finish them off afterwards. Which also would've been traumatizing, but probably less so than watching each of those cute little gopher holes projectile vomit bloody piles of tattered critter all over the lawn. 

Which, spoiler alert, is exactly what happened. The sky fell down, and the ground flew up, and the gophers found themselves with nowhere to go. So they did the next best thing and went a little bit everywhere.

I don't think it was actually silent afterwards, but I couldn't hear shit. There was just this long, ringing period of us looking at each other, then the meat piles, then the lawn crater, then the big buckled section of yard that looked oddly like Rockies just behind us, then back to each other. 

I think I did that two or three times before I felt my shoulders start to shake a little. I was crying. Felt weird to cry and not be able to hear it. Like a tic almost, or the way your body seizes up right before you puke. 

And then I looked at his face, and I saw him mouth a single soundless word: 

Shit.

[azrielstaylorsversion]

Unspoken fights

Azriel x reader

Feyre wonders why Azriel and his mate aren't speaking to each other. Rhys explains about there unusual communication habits and she feels the need to fix it.

There were still two empty seats around the dinner table. Everyone had started eating already, not wanting to wait another half hour for Azriel and Y/N.

It didn't take much longer before they came walking in. Feyre quickly noticed them walking a few feet apart from each other. At least not as close as they usually were with each other.

Y/N walked in front of Azriel, her face showing no sign of emotion. She walked straight for Cassian's seat instead of the two empty ones on the other side of the table.

Azriel sighed softly and took a seat in one of the empty seats, immediately filling his plate with food. He didn't even acknowledge his family.

"Move." Y/N ordered Cassian, leaving no room for any argument. To Feyre's surprise, Cassian listened and moved over to the seat next to Azriel, leaving Y/N to sit next to Mor.

Cassian turned to face Azriel. His mouth opened to say something, but Azriel cut him off before he even got the chance to. "Don't even start." he said to his brother, not bothering to look at him.

Feyre watched the mated couple with concern. They never acted like this. At least not to her knowledge.

Feyre reached for Rhys mentally. 'What is going on with them?'

Rhys also watched the two and sighed, shaking his head. 'Probably a disagreement. This never lasts long. They will make up and talk about it tonight and tomorrow it is as it never happened.'

Y/N had now started eating as well, ignoring Cassians pointed look for claiming his seat. Azriel on the other hand had stopped eating and was just staring at the wall with a grumpy face.

'Does this happen often?' Feyre questioned.

'Not really. Maybe once a year.' Rhys answered. 'They have their disagreements and differences, but they always talk about it immediately. They never let it get as far as... whatever this is.'

After dinner everyone went their own way. Except for Y/N, who decided to stay in the dinning room even when Azriel had left.

Feyre had seen Azriel glance at his mate for a moment, hesitating to walk towards her before he continued to walk out.

It was well past midnight when Feyre decided to get something to drink from the kitchen. She noticed the lights in the dining hall still being turned on.

Feyre poked her head inside, finding Y/N still in the same place she had last seen her. She was staring at the wall in front of her, an empty glass of wine on the table.

"Y/N?" Feyre said softly.

She almost jumped from the sound of her voice. "Oh, Feyre. Sorry I didn't see you there."

Feyre stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?" she asked her friend.

Y/N stayed silent for a short moment, her face filling with emotion. "Yes. Everything is okay."

Feyre could tell that the answer wasn't true.

"I actually wondered if I could stay here for the night?" she asked.

The question shocked Feyre a bit. As far as she knew, Y/N had never voluntarily slept away from home. Away from her mate.

"Yes, of course. But are you sure you don't want to go home?" she still decided to ask.

Y/N stood from her seat, making her way towards the door Feyre was standing.

"I'm sure. If you don't mind, I'll be going to my old room." she said, giving Feyre a tight mouthed smile and walking past her.

She obviously meant her and Az's old room. She always called it that.

Feyre decided to leave it for the night and return to her own mate, who was waiting for her upstairs.

The next morning Y/N ate breakfast with her, Rhys and Nyx. Her mood was definitely off.

She normally wasn't much of a talker, but now she was just quiet. She also looked extremely tired, as if she hadn't slept at all last night.

'Shouldn't they be back to normal by now?' Feyre asked Rhys mentally.

'Honestly, the fact that she even chose to sleep here last night does worry me.' Rhys told me.

Feyre debated saying something about it, but Rhys warned her before she had the chance. 'They'll be back to normal by tonight.' Rhys told her promising, even when he didn't sound so sure herself.

Y/N had disappeared during the day. Probably off to her normal duties.

Feyre felt surprised when she entered the River House in the afternoon and found Y/N sitting in the living room, with no sign of Azriel.

She greeted Feyre with a soft smile before sitting down on a chair by the fire.

"So did you do anything fun today?" she suddenly asked.

"I took a walk with Nyx and helped Rhys with work. Nothing more." Feyre asked with a smile. "What about you?" she asked with hesitation.

Y/N sighed, staying silent after. Then she just shrugged. "Not really. I just feel.. I don't know."

Feyre suddenly understood why she started a conversation. Y/N wanted distraction.

"It's okay to miss him. Even it's been a day." Feyre decided to tell her. Y/N just avoided her eyes at that.

She stayed silent for a good ten seconds.

"It's just so stupid." she said.

"What is stupid?" Feyre questioned.

"This whole pointless fight. I mean I started it. I got mad about something that wasn't even his fault. And I just wanted to be right so bad." she started speaking quickly. "And I made him feel so bad and I didn't even mean it like that. I just felt jealous. And now I ruined everything and-"

"Calm down a second. You're just spitting out your words at this point." Feyre chuckled. "Why were you jealous?"

Y/N stared into the crackling fire, hiding her face from Feyre. "A Fae woman stopped Azriel on our way to dinner to ask him something. She touched his arm." she told me. "And he immediately pulled away. He was just being polite by answering her. But I still got so mad and it was just stupid."

Feyre did understand her jealousy. She had experienced it with Rhys countless of times before.

"Even after being mated for decades I still sometimes get periods where my instincts are worse than normal. Just before we entered the River House I decided to ignore him. And just to prove a point I stayed away from him last night. But now I feel so guilty. And he's probably mad at me at this point." she sounded disappointed with herself.

Feyre moved over to her friend. "Of course he's not mad at you." Feyre told her reassuring. "It's Azriel. He loves you too much to be mad at you over this."

Y/N slowly moved her eyes to look at Feyre. She nodded to herself. "Yes. Yes, I hope so." she said. "But I haven't acted this childish in years. So I can understand if he were mad at me."

"Trust me, I would've had the same reaction as you." Feyre told her with a small laugh. "Why don't we ask Azriel to come here so you can explain it to him? I'll be here if you need me."

She nodded. "Yes. That'll probably be a good idea." she answered. "I'll see if I can get to him through the bond."

It didn't take very long before the front door of the River House opened and closed. The sound of it was soft, like someone who usually came in with no sound.

Azriel definitely let his presence be known by his footsteps, which were heavier than usual.

When Azriel entered the room, Y/N immediately stood from her seat.

"Az, I'm sor-"

"I'm so s-"

They both cut each other off.

Y/N stared at Azriel. "What do you need to be sorry for? It was me who did it." she took a step closer to her mate.

"Yes, but I still have to apologize for even letting that woman get close to me, I shouldn't have."

"No, you don't need to apologize for being kind towards a woman. I could see you pull away. And she only placed a hand on you. I am the one who should be sorry."

Azriel went quiet for a few seconds. Y/N stared at him with emotion in her eyes.

Who knew that the two of them had arguments like this. I was just sitting in a chair, watching them.

"This is so stupid." Azriel said.

A small smile formed on Y/N lips. "It is." she told him. "But I understand if you're mad at me."

"Of course I'm not mad at you. I did the same thing at the start of our relationship, remember? And that was before we were even mated. So I understand." he told her. "Come here." he opened his arms for her to walk in to.

I could hear Y/N whisper some things to her mate, but I soon felt like I was invading their privacy.

Azriel noticed my awkward look and smiled. He placed a hand on the small of Y/N's back. "Let's go home." he told her softly.

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

She threw a quick look over her shoulder, mouthing thank you to Feyre.

[cxffecoupx]

our little thing

chwe hansol + bickering over which christmas movie is superior wc: 672 warnings: vernon being a cutie, gets a little emotional at the end (i think) author's note: todays exam was shit. this was made in a haste. please bear with me (me for the 23456th time). but i kinda like it a little. also basically i've tweaked the prompt a little i guess. but this was the general idea. hope you like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

"sol, stop sulking; it's been more than an hour now!"

hansol just huffs once more before crossing his arms across his chest and looking away. you walk over to him to sit beside him.

"it was just a silly debate, non. i didn't even mean it that seriously."

"silly?! you mean to tell me, that movies are silly?!" he mocks a hurt expression before pressing his palm to his chest to drive his point home. you can only roll your eyes at this drama queen of a boyfriend.

two hours ago, vernon posed a question that he explained was 'in the spirit of the holidays'.

"what's your favourite christmas movie?" he asked while you were looking at decoration ideas through pinterest for seungcheol's christmas bash.

you actually had to judge him for that. for asking you that question, when he very well knew the fact that you were: 1) not a movie person, and 2) not a holiday person (two things that emotionally hurts vernon every time you express it, he claims).

so without much thought, you say what could have been the worst answer anyone could ever give to a movie person who likes the holidays:

"i dont know; i never really cared."

vernon swears he heard something break into a million pieces at that moment. if he were half as dramatic as his best friend seungkwan was, he'd have faked a faint and fell to the floor with his hand to the forehead (you say this in detail because this has happened before - when you answered the same way when he asked what your favourite christmas song was).

you thank whoever is up there that your boyfriend is nonchalant.

but this answer was enough for your stoic boyfriend to pout (a pout!! that you has to resist kissing), and move to the other end of the couch, far away from you, with the same worked up expression as right now.

for a whole two hours, he stayed huffing and puffing across from you.

you try to get him to look at you, but when that doesn't work, you climb onto his lap and hold his face between your hands. his face felt cold to the touch, nose a pretty pink and lips still in a pout.

this time, you don't resist your urge to kiss.

you lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. you could feel him melt under you, leaning into you while trying to deepen the connection. when you pull away after some time, he rushes to chase your lips. you place a finger to his.

"sol," you take a breath and continue.

"i've never really celebrated the holidays before. i mean, we did have some quality family time during the meals, of course. but we've never shopped for ornaments, or decorated the tree and put up a star. i've never sat down with them to watch christmas movies."

you smile when you notice his nose become even red, and smooch it.

"so, i've never really found the appeal to it. i'm grateful for all the holidays i've had, i really am. but there are just some things i silently wish for at times."

he takes a deep breath and pulls you in for a hug.

"let me fulfill that wish for you. we're a family, you and i. we can make new traditions, you know? i've watched a lot of holiday movies, we can watch them together ever year. make it special with some wine, or some hot chocolate. some caramel popcorn. a warm blanket around us."

he pauses to smile before going on.

"and you'll fall asleep in the middle of it, but i won't wake you up because then i'll get to have your share of the popcorn too. and i can tease you about it till the next year, when we do more things to tease each other about."

vernon presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"you and i can slowly make it our little thing, just like you've wanted."

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[judysxnd]

In the comfort of your arms

summary: Lando plays video games a lot in between races. Y/n doesn’t mind, she even enjoys watching him play.

I’ve read a few fanfictions with the same theme a while back. I hope it’s not too similar 👀

It’s 1:40am here, I wrote this in 30min (it shows). Good night!!!🌙

Still taking Lando requests. Once I have enough I’ll be able to write them and publish them regularly (that’s how I used to do with the requests on Pedro). Thank youuuu 🫶🏼

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Lando loves playing video games a lot. When he’s bored, when he’s alone, when he can’t sleep, when he misses you, he plays. Time flies by without noticing as he enjoys himself with his friends. Even when he is away for F1, he plays. His favorite game to play with Max, Bankai and Matt at the moment is Escape from Tarkov. He could (actually is) spend hours on it.

As he has two weeks before the next race, Lando just came back home, to Monaco, to rest a bit before going back to the MTC and later on race again. The first thing he did when he was back was to call you and ask you to stay at his place for the few days he was here. An offer you could never refuse. Texts and FaceTime aren’t enough, so you try to maximize every moment you can have with him.

So you drove to his place immediately after, making yourself at home at his place, like you usually do when he is here. When he is at Monaco you mostly stay at his place, leaving your own for days, even weeks sometimes. If you look at Lando’s place, you can see that you are here a lot. An extra toothbrush in his bathroom. A side of his dressing dedicated to you, some groceries and drinks of your liking in his fridge, it’s your second home.

But, as much as he wants to spend all of his time with you, Lando needs his daily dose of game. You wanted to finish a tv show that you had started a week ago, he wanted to play, it was the perfect opportunity. You were in the same place, but doing your own thing, just like if you were living together.

A few hours passed by and you finally finished your tv show. It was around midnight, you were getting tired but didn’t want to go to bed without him. You always do that, and now that you can have his company in bed, you didn’t want to miss it, even just for one night. From the living room, you silently made your way to where he was playing. Before entering, you carefully analyzed if he was streaming. Once you saw that he wasn’t, you fully entered the room.

Lando was fully focused on his game, trying to kill a raider that he didn’t hear you walk next to him. It’s only when he got killed and slid back a bit that he saw you and jumped a bit. He cut his mic to talk to you for a sec.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you” you said as you tried not to laugh

“It’s okay” he said, turning his chair to look at you. You were wearing one of his shirt, that was a bit oversized for you. You had a few pajamas of yours here, but nothing was as more comfy as his clothes. And he loved it. He loved since you in his clothes. His hands dropped from his chair to your thighs, making you shiver.

“Are you almost done?” You asked, looking at the screen, your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer to him.

“I don’t know, I think I’ll do one or two more runs then I think I’ll be done” his arms made it around your waist now.

“Hm”

“You can go to bed, I’ll join you” you stepped back, looking at him, pouting

“That’s not going to happen” Lando laughed a bit

“Why?”

“I spend most of my nights without you, it’s not to do it again when you’re here”

“Aw” was all Lando was able to answer. He loved this clinginess of yours. He was the same with you, which was quite normal since you were away from each other a lot.

“Can I sit with you for a bit?”

“Sure” he said. You started to walk away, but Lando grabbed your hand. “Where you going?” He asked

“Grab a chair”

“You don’t need one” he said, patting his thigh with his free hand. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s not going to be comfortable for you, how are you going to play?” You joked as he pulled you back to him.

“Don’t worry about that. Come here” Next thing you know, you’re sitting on his lap, your head leaning against his, your left arm resting on his waist.

You planted a kiss on his neck before he was back into the game. You saw him smile.

“Lando are you still there mate?” You heard Max asked him through his headphones.

“Yep, sorry, I’m here” he said calmly. Sometimes he could be very loud while playing, but he could also be very calm. It happens a lot when he plays Tarkov. He talks normally, very slow and calmly. Laughing from time to time. And the noise of the game, so satisfying. It’s such a quality, and same, it’s calmly in a way.

Like a lullaby almost. At least at midnight it is. In Lando’s arms it is. You could hear most of everything through his headphones as you were close to them, and it was at the perfect volume for you. Your eyes following closely what Lando was doing, you felt sleepy. His smell was helping you drift away in the most perfect way. That’s how you fell asleep was he was still playing.

Lando didn’t notice right away that you fell asleep. He was focused in his game. But that’s when he finally stopped that he noticed you weren’t moving at all. He said goodnight to everyone and turned off the computer, before easily getting up and carrying you to his bed. You didn’t even make a sound nor wake up when he moved you. But once he was settled in bed, you made your way to his arms again, instinctively, naturally. You missed him too much.

When you woke the next morning, you were still in the same position from the night. Lando on his side, and you cuddled up in his arms. You don’t know how, but you do remember last night, how comfortable you fell asleep in his arms, and how comfortable you are right now. Home.

[ashwhowrites]

Eddie Munson- wanting to see how well they'd do in a quiet place but he gives up the night of for sex

I saw a quiet place and ummm immediately needed to post something related to it🫶🏻 enjoy a short blurb

"How do you think we'd do in that situation?" Eddie asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn. He opened his jaw and snapped down on the fluffy popped kernels, the loud crunch covering the movie's sound.

"Just from that, absolutely horrible," Y/N laughed, grabbing a handful for herself.

"Okay but for real! I think I'd be good at it." Eddie said, ignoring his girlfriend's unamused face.

"Baby, sound surrounds you. There's no way you could ever be quiet." She explained

"Wanna challenge me on that?" He asked, sitting up and smirking as his face was inches from hers.

"You truly think you can be silent? For even the night?" Y/N challenged, squinting her eyes as she leaned closer

Her boyfriend's amused smile was captured in her eyes.

"Prepare to lose, baby," he said cockily, leaning back against the couch and placing his feet on the table.

Y/N nodded and snuggled under his arm. The two watched the movie in silence. But Y/N knew her yapper of a boyfriend would not last the night.

~

The credits played as Y/N cleaned up the living room. Eddie was in the bathroom, trying to silently brush his teeth.

She enjoyed how determined he was and tried to encourage him.

The first few hours went well. He crawled into bed and prepared to sleep off the rest of his challenge. But he wasn't tired, so he tried to keep his mind busy until he got sleepy.

He started thinking about Y/N and his future with her. What their future house will look like and how their kids will turn out. He realized his mistake of thinking about her when his mind flashed explicit images of them together. He tried to think of something else but it kept coming back. Then suddenly it was all he could think about.

He bit his lip as he felt his cock growing hard underneath his boxers. He ignored it the best he could. But it started to ache and throb. And he knew it wouldn't go away.

He huffed and rolled over. His dark eyes took in her body as she sat on her phone. She felt him staring and looked over. She smiled down at him and played his hair. He smiled but shivered as her nails scraped through his hair. She noticed the shiver and tried to hide her smirk.

She moved her nails down to his neck, then softly tickled the top of his back. His bare skin raised with goosebumps as he melted into her touch. His cock ached even more as he tried to take a deep breath.

He moved his body closer, trying to not make it noticeable that he was moving his cock next to her leg.

When he felt like he was in the clear, he slowly rubbed his covered cock against her bare leg. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.

Y/N didn't say anything, but she knew what he was doing. She pretended to be busy on her phone as her poor boyfriend rubbed his cock against her leg.

She knew this was where he was going to fail.

It didn't take long for Eddie to realize that he wasn't going to have a great orgasm from this. He wanted to be inside of her.

He stopped his hips and shifted to move up the bed. He planted himself next to her and turned his head against her ear.

"Wanna have sex?" He whispered

She giggled to herself and turned her face to look at him. Their noses brushed against each other.

"Definitely," she said, laughing as he immediately jumped between her legs. She reached her arms up around his neck as he leaned down and kissed her.

They made out for a while, her hands teasing him as his fingers worked underneath her sleep shirt. She pulled back and flipped them over. Now on his lap as she leaned down and sucked on his neck.

A loud moan left his lips as he threw his head back

Y/N hissed, and moved her lips up to his ear, "you loose."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[makeitmakesomesense]

The Early Morning

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Day 5: I've merged a lovely request from a lovely friend with the @taylorswiftmicrofic prompt for the 5th of January, which is 'blind'.

It is just past the middle of the night. You have officially entered the early morning. You find yourself awake. You went to sleep right after your last mission. This is your consequence. 

You don’t try to fight it, instead you roll out of your bed and make your way to get something to drink. Ever since Vision and Wanda have become part of the Avengers, things have been a little different. You’ve all done your best to welcome them to the team, but they have kept to themselves far more than you expected. The changing dynamics have been something to adjust to.

You let yourself enjoy the easy peace of the quiet nighttime. 

You walk to the kitchen and freeze for a second. 

Wanda is sitting at the dining table. Her hair is wet. Her face is ashen and her hands are cupping a hot mug of tea. Her eyes flit wearily to you. 

You hesitate, not sure how to approach. You’ve never spoken to her alone.

‘You okay?’

Wanda turns back to her tea, she doesn’t answer. 

You watch the ends of her hair drip onto the tiled floor. 

You refill the kettle and turn it on. You take a seat next to her. 

Wanda’s wearing a grey sweater. It’s too big for her. The sleeves have ridden up and her forearms are exposed. Goosebumps coat her skin. 

You try again. Something more direct. 

‘Are you cold?’

Wanda’s eyes meet yours and you know that she is. 

The kettle boils and you stand up, your hand touches her shoulder as you pass by. You feel her shudder.

You bring her a new mug. The steam curls promisingly above the liquid. Wanda leans over it. Her hands wrap around the ceramic, even though it must be burning hot. She shudders again and closes her eyes.

You sit next to her with your own mug and think.

Dim light seeps through the large windows and illuminates Wanda’s face. Her eyes have dark shadows under them. You can tell she must not be sleeping. You wonder where Vision is.

As if she can read your thoughts (and you can’t help wondering if she can). Wanda answers your silent question.

‘Viz doesn’t sleep. Not like people do. It’s more... robotic.’

You picture immediately a long cable connecting the android to a computer. You push down the ridiculous image that's probably not so far from the truth. You nod at Wanda silently encouraging her to continue. 

‘At night, he goes offline. Really offline. Missiles could go off and he’d be blind to it.’

You try to understand the subtext of Wanda’s words. There’s a strange suspense to your next question, it is the possibility that she might say yes. 

‘Do you worry about that? About missiles going off?’

Wanda smiles at you. Her head tilts. It could be playful if her eyes weren’t full of pain. 

‘It’s all I worry about.’

You give a half smile back, you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

‘I’ve done all my sleeping for tonight.’ You tell her carefully. ‘If you want someone there… someone awake. I was going to watch a movie anyway and I can put on headphones.’

Wanda takes her first sip of the slowly cooling tea. 

‘Thank you.’ She says a moment later, her small smile now weighted with relief.

Wanda follows you back to your room that night. She waits for you to prop some pillows against the headboard and lie back on one side of the bed. She falls readily onto the other side of the mattress. 

She’s not self conscious, not like you’d half expected. 

She sinks into the bed like it’s been calling her for days. You listen to her breathing even out before you put on your headphones.

.

It becomes a routine of sorts. Your new sleep schedule is not nearly as difficult as you expect. You switch your mindless after-dinner screen time with an early nap.

Wanda knocks on your door in the early hours of each morning. You plug in some headphones and watch whatever film you can think of.

Wanda lies beside you. Now that the worst of the sleep deprivation has abated, she is slower to fall asleep. Sometimes you even talk for a few minutes, about the day before or the film you’re planning to watch. 

It’s easy to talk to Wanda, much easier than you ever expected. You try to understand the distance she’s always kept from everyone on the team except Vision.

Each morning, you wait patiently for the inevitable long pause in coversation, for the moment that her eyelids slowly start to close. 

There is something comforting about her steady breathing beside you.

It is too easy to be comfortable. Despite your best efforts, it only takes a week for you to become lulled to near sleep yourself. 

You’re not quite asleep, you’re still following along with the dialogue from the movie. But your mind has drifted and your eyes have closed. 

They fly open at the first feeling of movement beside you. You startle suddenly as you understand your inadvertent mistake. You move backwards unthinkingly and hit your head sharply on the edge of the headboard.

You hiss out and apologise automatically. 

Wanda is still lying in the bed next to you, she has turned to face you. Her head is resting on the pillow. She looks exhausted with a different kind of fatigue. She sits up very carefully, as if her presence is inherently scary.

You don’t know how to explain. That your automatic panic came only from the disorientation of nearly falling asleep by mistake. 

Wanda speaks before you can. Her mouth twists into the same bitter smile that you’ve seen once before. She is watching you rub the sore spot at the back of your head.

‘It’s your amygdala.’ She explains.

‘What?’ You ask unsurely.

‘That’s why you’re afraid.’ 

‘My amygdala.’ You repeat dumbly.

‘Yes. Vision explained it once. It’s what makes you afraid of me, even if you don’t want to be.’ Her words are rehearsed. They sound calm but you can hear something else simmering behind them. ‘Your amygdala knows the danger that comes with being near me.’

‘And what about Vision’s amygdala?’ You ask sharply, suddenly hating the implications of her words. ‘How does he manage?’

‘It’s synthetic.’ 

‘That’s lucky.’ You comment dryly.

She stares at you seriously. An overwhelming loneliness fills her eyes. 

‘Yes.’ Wanda says quietly, looking down at the bedspread. ‘It is.’

You watch Wanda leave. 

.

You spend the day caught between a wish to apologise and a lingering uncertainty that something else is wrong. Something more complicated than you’d realised.

You seek out Natasha in the end, trusting her advice and needing someone to speak to. You find her as she’s leaving a boardroom after a meeting. She invites you back into the room and you sit together. You start to tell her about Wanda. You try to state the facts. The sleep deprivation. Vision’s words. Her isolation from the team. 

You hope you don’t sound biased, you hope your concern doesn’t seem excessive.

Natasha’s lips twist and you can tell she doesn’t like the details either. She tells you other things, small moments she’s noticed. Their separate meals from the rest of you. His frequent appearances in Wanda’s room without warning. How it's the one thing he can’t seem to learn not to do. A sudden lengthy monologue about the benefits of Stark’s technology, unaware of Wanda stiffened posture beside him.  

You exchange a long look with Natasha, it holds something that you recognise in your bones.

You decide to worry together. 

.

That night you find Wanda before the time she usually comes to your room. It is just past midnight and she is sitting at the dining table. Her dark hair is wet again. 

She startles violently when you call her name. Her shoulders relax immediately as she turns to find you. 

Wanda stands suddenly and moves to the kitchen counter. You watch her refill the kettle and turn it on. She takes out two mugs. She smiles at you again. There’s relief in it. 

‘Good evening.’ She says at last. Her fingers tap out a steady rhythm against the marble countertop. 

She notices you watching and her hand stills suddenly. She stares down at her fingers. Her mouth closes and her jaw ticks. She is lost in thought. You know she is remembering your last encounter.

This time, you speak first. You start slowly.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ You tell her carefully. 

Wanda doesn’t look up. You watch the familiar bitter smile that makes your gut twist unhappily.

‘Then you are not paying attention.’ She says simply. 

‘I am.’ You counter stubbornly. 

‘We can’t change who we are.’ Her voice is monotone and you can tell that she is quoting someone else. ‘We can’t relinquish the dangers that comes with our power.’

‘But we can always have family.’ Your argument is quiet. ‘We can still have love and care. We can forgive ourselves for who we are.’

Wanda goes very still. After a moment, she reaches for the kettle that has now boiled. You watch her pour the water into the two waiting mugs.

‘Vision -’ She begins at last, looking at you unsurely. ‘It’s hard’

‘What is?’ 

She hands you a mug of tea and you watch her grip her own drink like it’s a life support system. 

‘He would never do the things I’ve done.’ Her voice cracks with barely repressed guilt. ‘It can be hard to not feel alone.’ 

You drink your tea and watch her for a moment. Wanda's breathing is shallow. Her pupils have dilated in the dim light. Her dark eyes are watching you, waiting. 

‘I would’ve.’ You confess softly. ‘If I’d been you. I think I would have done the same things.’

A thousand emotions flit through Wanda's expression. It settles somewhere between fear and longing.

You move forward and place your mug on the countertop, carefully you take Wanda’s from her too. When her hands are free, you hold them gently in your own. 

She grips them tightly. You can feel her shaking. 

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ You offer softly. ‘Just for a few days. We can borrow a car. We can go right now.’

Wanda is so close to you now. You feel the hitch in her breath as you much as you hear it.

Wanda’s expression fills with the same look of longing and she glances outside at the full moon that is brightening the darkest part of the night. 

‘Viz’ll wake up soon.’ She hesitates. ‘He hates it when I leave this place.’

You shake your head. You give her a small smile. ‘Natasha said they’re using his offline time tonight to update some of his old programming. Getting rid of some of the biases that Tony created back when it was only Jarvis.’

You pause. Wanda is looking at you like the world is something new again.

‘We have time.’ You tell her and it feels like a promise. 

Her small smile is full of sudden happiness.

Wanda leans forward and her head rests against your shoulder. There is a weightlessness to her tired relief.

You are grateful that your amygdala is very real. That you can feel this entirely.

‘Okay’ She says finally against your shirt. ‘Do you mind if I sleep while you drive?’

You laugh and wrap your arms around her. The wet ends of her hair drip onto your arms.

You leave the Compound before the sun has risen.

.

.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Got me awe struck how you write so well kinda wish i had that skill too! Anyway, how about boyfriend praising reader(who felt insecure) starting from sweet then getting creepier. Like something in the lines of "praising their kindness, so lucky to have them" to "he knows , he will kill for them."

A/N: A/N: sacrificed my soul for this one and it didn't turn out as slayful as I wanted.. Anyway, I hope this is what you were thinking anon :D sorry for any mistakes and thank you!

Synopsis: Your boyfriend's compliment goes a little too far when he tries to cheer you up.

T/W: Mildly graphic threats of violence, forced kissing, manipulation, insecure reader, yandere themes/behaviors

WC:3000

You found yourself in a bathroom stall for the fifth time in one evening, sitting on the toilet with your head in your hands. You just wanted it all to go away: the people, the drinks, the music that boomed in your ears. You had already stained your sequined clothes with spilt champagne earlier that night, the stickiness of it on your chest beginning to mix with the thick sweat crawling down your neck. It was too damn hot in here, the buzz of the bathroom fan making you claw at your updone hair. 

The mass amounts of club goers here were far more accustomed to this lifestyle than you. Which was intimidating, to say the least. They all looked so perfectly dolled up-- not a smudge of makeup out of place, delicious scents of colognes and perfumes mixing together. Not to mention, they could hold their alcohol far better than you could. 

One bitter cocktail and you were already hazy-eyed, your face warm and balance a little loopy.  You were by no means drunk, but the contents of your drink had certainly offered a level of instability to your emotions and movements. 

The image of men in their chic dress shirts that showed hours of gym time and girls in their tight party dresses made you want to curl up in the corner and marinate in self-pity. It was hard not to compare yourself, not when you spent hours searching for the right clothes that would fit with your boyfriend’s stylish accents, constantly perfecting your concealer to hide the dark bags beneath your eyes. 

And yet, even with your hard work, you still felt out of place, still felt the pinch of hundreds of passing stares and biting grins of condescension as you stood next to your overly charismatic significant other. 

Through your pounding headache and shaky breaths, You could hear the winding creak of the bathroom door being pushed open. 

Narrow-footed shoes echoed on the white tile floor, slowly passing each bathroom stall and sink basin. 

“Sweetheart?” A voice questioned. “You in here?” 

You stayed silent, covering your mouth and lifting your feet from the floor. You didn’t want him to know you had spent the past 20 minutes in here wiping away stinging tears from your eyes, shoving paper towels down the front of your dazzling shirt to soak up champagne. You smelled like alcohol and whatever cleaner they used to permeate the bathroom with, and it certainly wouldn’t be a sight that you wanted your boyfriend to see. 

However, despite your attempts to make yourself disappear, you saw his clubbing shoes patiently make their way to the front of your stall. You looked within the separating crack of the door and the wall, seeing a blur of black clothes and sun-kissed skin. Your eyes focused and without warning you made eye contact with him, his face showing a worried, yet sly grin. He was waiting-- peering in on you sitting there in ruin. 

You jolted in surprise, your foot slipping from the toilet seat as you looked away. You hoped if you moved fast enough, that maybe he would think you were someone else.

“C’mon, let me in.” He pressed against the door, trying to open it from the outside. 

Well, seemed like tricking him didn’t work. 

“Don’t come in here Ezra! I--” You weren’t sure how to convince him to go away. “I don’t want you to see me.”

He went quiet, keeping his hand atop the door handle and watching the door.

“Why not?”

Panic rose in your chest again, forcing you to try to come up with a way to get him to leave you alone, atleast long enough to make yourself look presentable. 

“I-... I just--”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t make fun of you or anything, just open the door,” He raddled the handle, pressing his face against the crack of the door. 

“Don’t!” You shout, trying to cover the crack with your hands.

Your boyfriend let out a low grunt, annoyed at your stubbornness. 

He tried rattling the door once more, pulling hard enough to make the hinges creak. You feared that if he pulled any harder, he might rip the entire door off. 

“You’ve been in there for almost a half hour,” Ezra impatiently replied, putting his hand on the top of the stall door. “If you don’t open up, I’m going to force my way in there.”

He began to pull, jerking the door hard enough that the other stalls began to clatter. 

“No-- wait okay okay okay!” You panicked, trying to pry his hand away from the top of the door. 

Instantaneously he grabbed your wrist, pulling it upward to get a good handle on you. His fingers were warm, as if he had his hands clenched for a long period of time. 

“I’m not letting go until you do.” He said coldly, squeezing your hand. He was serious, holding your wrist securely enough to show he meant business: he’d stand there all night if that's what it took. Your several disappearances had worried him enough.

His thumb moved up to caress the dip in your palm, turning your hand to face outwards. Ezra’s face was still pressed up against the door crack, looking to provoke you further out. 

Stomping your foot, you wracked your brain for something-- anything, to deter him away. But the lingering threat of his hand left your mind to draw a blank. 

“....Fine.” You mutter, pulling the paper towels out of your chest. You try to wipe away any leftover tears, but you know it does little to lessen the redness of your eyes. 

With a shaky breath, you ask him to stand back, and slowly unlock the door. Purposely taking as long as possible, you keep your feet moving at an inchworm's pace, hardly stepping away from the stall. 

Your boyfriend tears open the stall door now that its unlocked, not yet releasing your arm. 

You see his figure in front of you but refuse to look up, instead turning away and allowing him to drag you out of the small confines of the stall. He pulls you to the large sink basins, reaching for your chin. You flinch a little as he turns your head, looking at your tear stricken face. You felt like a mess, but he didn’t seem to change expression as you stared back. 

 “Now, what’s been the matter sweetheart?” 

You feel the cold of his rings against your balmy cheeks, his thumb running over your wet eyelashes to brush away unfallen tears. 

“I just don’t feel good…” You say, relishing in the affection, even though it makes your stomach churn.

“What doesn't feel good?” He asks, letting go to inspect the rest of you. 

You relax against the low counter, feeling it hit your tailbone. 

“Did someone hurt you?” He searches your body for marks. “Are you feeling sick? Had too much to drink, baby?”

You shake your head, suddenly feeling like a child answering to their mother. 

“You’re going to have to tell me what it is, then. I can’t read your mind.” He lightly scolds.

There’s a gentleness in the deep vibrato of his voice as he bares the blunt words, looking at you with an expectant gaze.  

You fidget a tad, beginning to pace in a small two-step dance. 

“I just--” You turn away, fidgeting with your fingers. “I feel, ridiculous.” 

You move to grasp your forehead, avoiding your boyfriends gaze. 

“Dressed up in this stupid get up, surrounded by these people who-- who I don’t belong next to, who make me look like a fool for being here…!” 

You fold your arms over your chest defensively, turning away from the man. 

“Did you see the way everyone was looking at me? I looked so stupid, standing next to you! Or even next to them, as if I could convince them that I belong here, next to someone of their own.” You turned to stare at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person who stared back. “I just.. I don’t belong here, with you… with these people… I feel absurd for even trying.” 

You hear your voice shake at the last few words, not realizing you were getting worked up enough to cry. But then there it was, that burning in your nose and the blurriness of tears in your eyes. You felt your face scrunch and tense up, the ugliness of your cries breaking out to make you feel even smaller.

Putting a hand to your mouth and turning away from the mirror, you hoped your boyfriend hadn’t seen or heard the way you appeared ready to sob. 

But a heavy, commanding hand pulled your shoulder back, turning you around with ease as you let your body fall to whatever whims he desired.

Your nose was shoved against Ezra’s chest as he pushed your head against him, wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your hair, pushing it off your sweaty skin. It was almost suffocating, the way he trapped you against him. But it made you feel secure, knowing that he couldn’t see your face full of tears and shame, that you didn’t have to continue to spill your heart out to him. 

“Baby….” He said. It was in such a soft, understanding tone that you didn’t think it came from his lips at first. “How could you ever, ever, compare yourself to these… strangers?” 

You sniffled against his dress shirt, hiding yourself in his chest and expensive cologne, a scent so familiar and potent that it put your body at ease. 

“I mean, you? Versus them? These half drunken idiots who can barely hold themselves up?” Your boyfriend chuckled, shaking slightly against you. “Darling why would you ever want to be like them?”

You wiped your eyes, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

“I thought thats what… you wanted. How else am I supposed show up when I meet your friends.” You mumbled. 

Your boyfriend pulls your chin, lifting you to face him.

“I brought you here to meet everyone because I wanted them to meet you, not whatever persona the rest of the assholes here portray.” 

You looked away, letting his words sink in. 

“Besides, they were only looking at you because you were the most captivating thing in that room,”  He ran his pointer finger over your bottom lip, the cold of his rings hitting the bitten skin. 

“The most,” He cut himself off with a kiss to your neck. “Stunning,” kiss, ” “kind,” another kiss, “and amazing thing in that room. They were just how awestruck I was when I first saw you.” 

He softened as he saw you squeeze your lips shut, preventing a smile from escaping. 

 “Though I won’t let them make the same moves on you like I did.” He joked, laughing as he saw you roll your eyes. 

Brushing his thumb on your cheek, Ezra took away the remnants of tears. A pit of shame grew in your stomach when you saw him frown at your saddened state. 

“But listen,” He bent closer to your face, shifting his warm hands to cup your cheeks. “You’re the best thing to happen to me, hands down. And I wouldn’t trade any of the bastards in here for you, so enough self-loathing.” 

Your cheeks squish as he pressed his palms against them, forcing your head to nod as you went limp. 

“Good.” He smiled, grinning at how you seemed to wait for his next response.

You let him let go, even though you wanted to stay in that position of safety for longer.

He ruffled your hair back in place, fixing the few scraggled strands that he could. Ezra talked while fetching a paper towel to clean the goo beneath your eyes, originally from your tears.

“I mean, honestly, do you think I wouldn’t kill the bastards in here if they tried to look at you wrong? Come on, no way I would let that slide.” 

You smiled at hearing that, thinking he was just being dramatic. 

Paper towel in hand, Ezra lifted you up from the ground slightly. He put you down on the sink counter, keeping his hands planted to the sides of your abdomen. 

Letting out a low laugh, he continues to wipe away at your eyes. His demeanor shifted to be quieter; something you aren't used to from your blab of a boyfriend. 

Dark hair covers to his eyelids, sticking to his skin as the heat from the bathroom has begun to her to him.

The humming of the bathroom fan is all that fills the room for a few moments, Ezra’s concentration on your eyes leaving you both quiet. Though, you could tell he still had something he wanted to say.

"I mean, you don't understand how many times I've had the urge to mutilate the men in this club for staring at you, just from tonight alone" he licked his lips, curling his unmoving hand beside you. He seemed to be… nervous. "I'd pull their teeth out first, working my way down. Tearing each fingernail off one by one, pulling the veins from their wrists… I'd remove anything they have to witness you with."

He looked back up at you, staring within your eyes as if he was lost in them, as if he was looking inside of you. Despite his tender look that seemed to crave your cooperation, that should have made you blush– your smile fell. The warmth once spreading in your chest was now going cold, sinking to your stomach. 

"You captivated the whole room, and I can't stand it…" he didn't seem to notice your fallen expression, or the shaking in your hands on the counter. "I hate the way they can hear your laugh, sit beside you and feel your warmth… how you can smile at them and let them make you feel as if you aren't the best thing to ever walk into this club. I hate it so fucking much."

Your boyfriend trailed his finger down the sequins on your clothes, trying to hold himself back from getting too close. 

You shifted uncomfortably as your he leaned up close to your mouth, just far away enough to where he couldn't indulge in how badly he wanted to kiss you. There was this suffocating desire inside his chest to paint his claim violently upon your body in this bathroom right now, to let you walk put of this club with everyone staring at the little pieces of him only, forcing them all to know who you really belong to. 

You didn't know what to say to his confession…. Should you thank him? Run away? Beg him to go to therapy? 

Instead you stayed quiet, searching for the right words to not tick him off, now that you knew what he was potentially…. Capable of. 

"They want to hurt you, to use you and then throw you away like some brainless sex doll. They only have bad intentions, baby."

Your boyfriend slid down to your knees, crouching down as you sat on the counter above him. He pulled your left leg toward him gently, kissing up from your ankle, to your shin, to your knee. 

"But i'll take care of you, I won't let you be tricked.."He looks up at you with fluttering lashes, raising your leg ever so slightly to press his lips against your inner thigh. 

"You know how much I adore you… right?"

 Your skimpy clothes gave him even more access than you felt comfortable with, seeing the adoration pulsate within his eyes and the desperation in his hands.

"Of course," you reply, hesitantly bringing a hand up to his cheek, hoping he wasn't thinking of murdering you too in this bathroom. 

 His warm, damp hands molded the flesh of your bare thighs in his fingers, pushing in between the tight layer of where your tiny shorts and your skin meet, trying to dig beneath them. He wanted to hold all of you, to keep you in his arms so you couldn't even think of leaving, of running to someone else.

"You know that I'd never hurt you… that I only want what's best for you… that I'd kill for you--…" he mumbles the last bit, pressing your hand deeper against his cheek as he looks up from below at you, giving a cheeky grin. 

You nod your head, hoping his homicidal thoughts were just that-- thoughts.

He was quick to fool you again with that sweet, lovely smile that seemed to bask in your presence, the smile that made you feel like the most desirable person in the world. No matter how many threats he gave out they never seemed to deter the fact that his soft, adoring expression made you feel like he'd choose you in a room full of thousands. 

Your small assurance gave him the confidence to press his head further between your legs, running kisses back up from your knee to your thigh. 

He trailed up your skin, kisses growing hungry. Pulling your sequined shorts, your boyfriend buried his head between your thighs– trying to get where he knows he'll have full control over you. 

"Not here," you said breathlessly and bewildered, trying to push away his head. "We can't do that here–!"

His hair was soft, even with the thin spread of gel that kept it in place as you ran your hands down to his neck. Tugging at tufts of his hair and using your legs to push him away, you found little to nothing dispirited him. 

"Just let me show how much I love you..."

Each time you tried to use your knee to push him, Ezra pushed it against the sink countertop with the heavy weight of his hand. He looked up at you with a sick grin that meant: “just try and beat me.” A part of you felt panicked, not just from the compromising position-- but from how insistent he was. Like he was trying to prove something to you.

It wasn't until the echo of the bathroom door swinging open and hitting the wall, did he lift his head. His eyes went wide, jaw clenching as he whipped around to look. The fearful expression would've been funny if you weren't just as scared. 

You quickly jumped off the counter and pulled your shorts back into position, watching to see someone peak around from the corner. But the sounds of drunken laughter faded away, and no one made themselves apparent.

You and Ezra sighed simultaneously, the heat from the stuffy bathroom showing to have been too much for the both of you. 

He reached for your hand, pulling you towards him. Ezra goes quiet, and you keep your gaze to the ground. He had shown sides of himself tonight that you weren’t exactly sure how to process. 

“Lets just go home, okay?” Ezra says after a few moments, whispering with a grin.“I wanna finish what we started.”

What were you to say? You stuttered, thinking to protest, to run away or maybe even admit how afraid you were. 

But with a kiss to your sweaty forehead, your boyfriend slung his arm over your shoulder and began leading you to the exit of the bathroom. 

Your feet had moved on your own, your mouth still lingering to form words. As Ezra opened the door, the stench of alcohol and cheap perfume hit you once again.

[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

<first> <prev> <next>

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

[francixoxoxo]

.𖥔˚ Lay Back, Relax ୨ৎ

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐗 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞!!

• 𝐓𝐖: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭/𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) •

Coriolanus strived to be the best husband. He was expecting his marriage to be arranged, and not exactly a loving one at that. He resigned himself to that. There were more important things at hand.

Well, that’s what he thought until you practically fell in his lap. Intelligent, kind, thoughtful. Undeniably and classically beautiful. His true match. It wasn’t just that you were perfect for public image, that mattered less to him that he would have thought. But you were perfect for him, you two fit and complimented each other like dolls in a set.

Coriolanus was sitting at his desk, flipping through a few important political documents and letters. You didn’t mind that he was busy, you were content to lay across the chaise against the wall of his office. You were flipping through a fashion magazine a bit absentmindedly. Your heels were strewn across the floor, your feet up beside you on the red velvet chaise, fashionable dress-shirt unbuttoned and rolled over your forearms to try and get comfortable after a long day.

Your husband didn’t seem to have that privilege. He rubbed his deeply furrowed temple, nostrils flaring as he stuck his silver letter-opener into a new envelope to tear it open. He was in the beginnings of his presidential campaign, rapidly moving up the ranks and leaving only one seat in Panem’s government left to achieve. You knew how passionate he was about his work, and you had to admit you were thrilled by the idea of being the First Lady. But it was taking a toll on your poor Coryo.

You did what you could as his wife to soothe him. Even now, you could see the empty cup of chamomile you’d given him earlier— hidden behind the mountain of unread papers. You knew that this work would pay off in the long run.

Though it didn’t pull at your heart any less when Coriolanus slipped into bed sometimes hours after you retired, pulling you close only after he was sure you were already awake, murmuring weary apologizes and promises.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Coryo would groan into the crook of your neck, holding you loosely and sighing. He’d press a faint kiss to your collarbone, “I got caught up…”

You’d snake your hand around to thread your fingers through his mussed blonde curls, loose just how you liked them. You’d give his scalp a gently scratch, humming groggily, “You deserve some rest.”

He’d grumble affirmatively in reply, but every night became a late one regardless.

Your eyes flicker up to him now, taking a quick break from reading a document to scribble down notes for his reply, which he’d probably write tonight. Coryo could never put things off for the next day, that was his downfall. With a heavy heart, you resigned to the thought that he’d stay up until the latest hours of the night, only coming to lay beside you when his eyes were too bleary to read the print.

The clock was already at eleven, and you couldn’t stand by and Coriolanus stay in this office until it ticked to midnight. Perhaps he felt your concerned eyes peering at him over the magazine, because he lifted his own azure gaze. He let out a sigh through his nose, offering you a weary smile. You returned it silently, watching him look back to his work with a disapproving purse of his lips. You had no choice! You pushed yourself off the chaise, padding barefoot to his desk and standing behind his rolling chair. Coryo lifted his head to look at you, brows furrowed above sleepy eyes. “Darling?”

You draped yourself over the back of the red leather chair, your cheek to his temple and your arms wrapping around his chest. Coryo smiled softly, a large hand coming to rest over your forearm. “It’s late, Coryo.” You cooed, lips ghosting the shell of his ear.

He nodded reluctantly, that smile falling into a dark expression. He sighed through his nose. “I know.”

“Come to bed.” You murmured, nosing his temple and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. You were grateful you hadn’t washed off your day’s makeup off yet, the red lipstick stain on his milky skin satisfying. Filling you with a kind of possessive pride. Not to mention that it was hot, having your shade of lip color on his face as proof that he’d let you stain it.

Coryo protested with a grunt, shaking his head a bit. “No, no… Darling, I have my work cut out for me.” But your lips peppering kisses across his face was breaking his resolve as you stepped beside him, grabbing the armrest of his chair and turning him to face you.

“It’ll still be on your desk tomorrow,” you reminded your husband as you slipped into his lap, legs straddling his hips. Your red acrylic nails (which he paid to have done, of course) threading through the back of his platinum blonde curls as you pressed lipstick stains over his cheeks and forehead, nose and chin. He was wonderfully oblivious.

“Just another hour, and I’ll be done.” Coriolanus protested, though his hands were resting over your hips. He tried to give passing kisses to you, but the task was a bit difficult with the way you kept shifting focus. He craned his neck to allow you access to his neck when you nosed his jawline.

You groaned in frustration, gently scratching his scalp with the hand behind his head. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Exhausted.” He admitted after a moments internal debate. His eyelids had long fluttered shut.

“Poor thing, you’ll stress yourself silver.” You cooed, finally pulling away from him. You examined a few strands of blonde hair for grays.

Coryo only snorted and opened his bright, icy eyes. He stared up at you fondly, a reverent smile on playing at his lips. “I doubt I could. Not a spot on me yet.”

You mirrored his smirk, but shook your head. “Point is, you’re overworked.” Coryo didn’t disagree nor agree, he just gently smoothed a palm over your thigh as you went on. “I think I have just the thing to help you unwind.”

Coriolanus’ eyebrows furrowed, he shook his head a bit. “I don’t think two cups of tea in an hour is very healthy, my darling.” You couldn’t help the giggle bubbling from your lips.

You pushed yourself off his lap, only causing his confused expression to deepen. His hands rested on your hips still. You press a sweet little kiss to his plush lips, though it was only chaste for a few moments before it deepened and his tongue slid past yours. All too soon, you broke the kiss. But only to replace it with something better.

“Darling..“ Coryo protested, his hand moving to your shoulder. “I know you’re tired, you don’t—“

“Let me.” You cut him off, turning your cheek to press a kiss to his wedding band. He was a thoughtful man. He knew that if you got him started, there wasn’t any stopping. But who was he to assume you didn’t want him?

Coriolanus’ eyes were hungry, fixed on you as you sunk to your knees between his lazily spread legs. Slowly, but not hesitantly, you reached for his zipper. “You don’t have to. Say the word, my love, and you can go on to bed.” He cooed, his tone agonizingly gentle, but you heard the strain. Looking up at his handsome features, eyes dark with lust, you knew he was desperate for this.

“I want to.” You replied, hooking your fingers under his waistband and pulling the quality fabric down, along with his suit pants, to his knees. His mouth-watering length sprang out as you did, catching your attention. He was easily seven or eight inches. You carefully but not hesitantly reached for him, wrapping a soft hand around the base of his cock.

Coriolanus inhaled sharply at that, his hips shifting ever so slightly. You couldn’t fight the smirk slipping over your face as you stroked your fist up and he exhaled harshly through his nose. Glancing up at your husband’s expression, his jaw was clenched and his blue eyes already so hazy. It had been too long (maybe a week, far too long for Coriolanus’ standards).

“How often have you thought of this?” You grinned, swiping your thumb over his flushed tip to spread the precum beading there. Coryo is white-knuckling the armrests of his chair, his fingernails divoting the red, upholstered leather. You can tell that he’s stifling any sound.

“You have no idea.” Coryo grunts, tipping his head back against his chair and staring down at you, lips parting. You feel satisfaction knowing these attempts at aloofness will be moot in a few moments.

You leaned forward to press a little kiss to his leaking head, batting those doe eyes up at him and making the heat rise up his neck, goosebumps erupting over his exposed forearms. A low groan escaped his lips, his muscles tense. “Lay back and relax.” You reminded.

Coryo’s hand slipped into your hair as you licked a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, he let out a soft sigh. His hips shifted a bit under your touch. You watched his face carefully, noting every little detail. His long lashes against his cheeks, the slight furrow of his brows, the set of his mouth. Everything you knew and loved.

When you closed your lips around him, lowering your head until your gag reflex protested, you were sure to catch Coriolanus’ moan as it left his lips. The weight of him on your tongue was familiar, warm. He was practically throbbing already— one week and he’s already so desperate for you. His eyes fluttered open, the icy blue of them focused on you. his nails gently scratched your scalp as an encouragement. “You’re so damn pretty.” He mumbled softly, relishing in the sight of you with his cock in your mouth. You hummed, gratified.

Coryo looked like he wanted to say more, but the way you began sucking shut him up. The warm wetness of your mouth and tongue on him was electrifying, it wasn’t long before he was clutching the armrest again. His hips bucked up to your mouth involuntarily and he was tempted to apologize, but the whimper that brought from your lips only made him harder. You were so beautiful from where he was sitting, doe-eyed and all for him.

You were taking it languid, using your hand to reach the inches your mouth couldn’t. It was too slow for his liking, it wasn’t very long until his hand tightened in your hair and he began thrusting his cock upward with purpose. “Fuck, your mouth.. Feel fuckin’ amazing.” Coryo grunted, his own mouth falling open in a gasp.

He wasn’t too rough with you, but enough to show you exactly who was in charge. Enough for you to enjoy it. Your throat burned, tears pricking your eyes and your whines filling his office, mixed with the obscene, wet sound of your saliva mixed with his precome. After hardly a minute of shoving his dick down your throat and grunting praise that didn’t match his actions in the least, Coryo lets out a guttural moan. “Shit, such a good fucking girl. Let me come in your mouth, baby, please— fuck,” You managed to hum affirmatively around his cock, your hand on his thigh squeezing.

With a low and masculine groan, his seed spurted down your throat, hips slowing their jerking into your mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair, though not too painfully. When he finally came down from the high, his head tipping back against the back of his chair and his hand smoothing down your hair he had mussed, your lips left him with a wet pop!

“You’re too good to me.” Coriolanus breathed, his eyes half-lidded and grin lazy when you rose to your feet. You leaned over him with a knee on the chair beside his thigh, kissing his cheek.

“You were supposed to relax and let me do the work.” You giggled, leaving him no choice but to turn his face and capture your lips. He could taste himself on your tongue, though he didn’t mind. He nose bumped yours as he pulled away.

“Mmm, you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, my love.” Coryo cooed, eyes sleepy and adoring. Certainly de-stressed. Whether he was ready for bed was another matter. His large hand moved to your hip, kneading the softness there.

“Let me return the favor.”

[flemingsfreckles]

Perfect To Me (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie notices you acting differently, when she learns why, she’s determined to help.

Warnings: body image issues, self deprecation, self consciousness, some self hatred, SMUT (18+), somewhat controlling Jessie, mirror sex, edging, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap on sex,

WC: 3.0k

Today had just been one of those days, you woke up and felt wrong. It started when you went into the bathroom, seeing two large pimples bright red on your face. Then when you changed you couldn’t help but notice every little detail wrong with your body, stretch marks, scars, blemishes, all of it, you hated it. You tried to get dressed, everything feeling too tight on your body caused you to spiral even further.

Jessie was quick to notice you were off, that morning opting to wear a sweatshirt and pants despite the warm weather. She then noticed at training the way you hurried off to the bathroom to change, unlike normal. She noticed you were frustrated at practice, having a rough day overall it seemed. On the way home you didn’t say anything, silently watching out the window, thinking about everything that went wrong.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” She questions you as she throws the car in park in the driveway.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss her concerns for you.

Her hand comes over the console and finds its way to your thigh. “Babe, talk to me. You’ve been quiet all day, I’m worried about you.”

You loved Jessie, she had been a perfect girlfriend for the past year, but she was insistent. She always wanted to talk things through, it got on your nerves, sometimes you had to sit in self loathing first. “I feel like shit about myself Jessie! I’m bloated, nothing fits, everything is too tight, everything seems wrong, everyone else is running around with their toned stomachs and perfect legs, I have stretch marks, I have acne, I hate myself.”

“Hey!” Jessie snaps. “You’re not allowed to speak about my girlfriend like that!”

“I can talk about her however the fuck I want to, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.” You taunt Jessie as you unbuckled and closed the door hard behind you.

Jessie follows you in the house. She lets you be for the next few hours, keeping her distance knowing you just needed some time alone to work through your feelings. And you worked through those feelings, as best you could, still not loving your body, still annoyed at the way everything fit, but better than you were this morning.

Your uncomfortable feelings with your body fade slightly as the day goes on, you start to forget what a terrible start to your morning you had. You knew you were overreacting, feeling just overwhelmed with the day, you took it out on yourself, you always did. What you didn’t know was Jessie hadn’t forgotten the way you had moved away from the mirror at home, the way she saw you staring for too long at your thighs and stomach, the way you closed yourself in the bathroom at home and at work to change. She was determined to make you feel better, even if you had already done it for yourself.

Which is how she ended up feeling you up as the two of you attempted to watch a movie. The movie is quickly forgotten as she pulls you up onto her lap to straddle her. Her hands on your waist, pulling you into her, encouraging your grinding motion. Your hands run through her curls as your lips slide against each other.

She reaches for your shirt, you nod hard against her, letting her know it was okay to pull it up and over your head. Your self conscious feeling comes back slightly as Jessie’s eyes make their way across your body. She then slides her finger tips into the waistband of your pants.

“Can I?”

“Just touch me already Jess, don’t take them off.” You think you’re being subtle, just hoping she’ll think you’re desperate enough for her touch that she shouldn’t bother taking off your pants. It’s less that you’re desperate and more you didnt feel like being completely naked.

“Okay babe.” Her hand slides past your waistband and pushes aside your panties. “Fuck.” She whispers as she feels the arousal between your lips.

“Please Jess.” Maybe you actually were desperate for her touch. She brings her fingers up to your clit, beginning to play with it exactly how she knew to. Jessie would usually tease a bit, giving you soft touches, moving away for a moment, slowing down, but today she was doing all the right things. It was as if she was trying to get you off as quickly as possible. You ground down onto her fingers, increasing the friction and pleasure.

“Fuck Jessie.”

“You feel so good on my fingers baby.” She groans into you and your grip on her hair tightens.

“Babe I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that.”

She smirks up at you. “I know.”

“Oh fuck.” You drop your head to her shoulder, letting out a string of moaned profanities from the pleasure of being right on the edge of release. And then you're quickly cursing Jessie as she takes away her fingers, removing them completely from your waistband.

“What the hell?” your head snaps up to look at her.

“Get up.” She taps your thighs and you move off of her reluctantly wishing she would finish what she just started. You were also still pissed that she took away your orgasm.

“Take the rest off and join me in the bedroom.” She looks at you, her eyes are soft, pupils are big. She turns and disappears into your bedroom. You assumed she was putting down the waterproof blanket, her strap, and maybe a few other toys.

Wanting to get your orgasm, you quickly remove your clothing, too focused on getting off that you don’t care as much about being naked. You leave your pants, underwear, and bra on the couch with your discarded shirt. You make your way to Jessie, walking into the bedroom.

Jessie is sitting on the bed against the headboard, she was now just in her sports bra and boxers, legs spread out on the bed. You notice there isn’t a blanket on the bed, she didn’t have out any of the toys you shared. You then noticed the large mirror usually in the corner of your bedroom had been moved to the end of the bed.

“Sit.” She patted the spot between her legs, you obeyed, crawling onto the bed and kneeling between her thighs. You start to move to straddle her, just as you had been on the couch, when she stops you.

“Nope, turn around, back to me.” You turn yourself, you bare back pressing against Jessie’s covered chest. You now realize the placement of the mirror, so you could see the two of you from where you sat together on the bed, Jessie’s head resting just above your shoulder.

“Good girl.” As you get settled where she wanted you Jessie praises you. She uses her arms to uncross your own, removing them from where they hid your chest, pulling them down and placing your hands on her thighs. She then uses her own legs to hook around yours spreading your legs, leaving you completely exposed in front of the mirror. “Now before I help you finish what I started out there, we’re doing this.” She gestures to the mirror.

“Look at yourself.” You don’t follow that instruction. Keeping your eyes glued to the bed sheets, not wanting to see your naked body in the mirror. Jessie gives you a second to look up, when you don’t her hand is hard on your chin, forcing your face up. You close your eyes, “I said, look at yourself.” Her grasp is hard on your face, a grasp that is demanding and slightly harsh.

You do as she says, opening your eyes, only your eyes find her eyes in the mirror, still avoiding looking at your body.

“Babe, don’t make this harder than it should be.” Her whisper is gentle in your ear, a contrast to her harsh grip and tone from before. “Look at my hands if that’s easier.” She adds before she removes her grip from your chin placing her hands on your shoulders.

“See these babe?” She squeezes your shoulders, “I love your strong shoulders and arms, I love how they hold me tight, how they hold me when we dance in the kitchen, I love how they toss me on the bed before you have your way with me. I appreciate your arms everyday.” Her hands rub from your shoulders down to your hands and back up, you watch, keeping your eyes on her hands. Her lips place kisses on each shoulder. “Tell me one thing you love about your arms and shoulders, pretty girl.”

“Um,” your eyes fall for a minute, Jessie’s hand finds your chin, gently pushing it to remind you to look up. “I love that they get to hug you, after a goal when you come and jump into my arms, they get to hold you up.”

“Good job baby.” She turned her head down to you, gently guiding you to kiss her. “Keep being a good girl and you’ll get a reward.”

Her hands then slide down, finding your chest. “Mhhh” she hums as she grasps each of your tits firmly in her hand. Her actions have you letting out a small moan. “I mean I think it’s obvious why I love these, but I love how you react when I touch them, when I drag my tongue over here.” She lets her fingers drag across your nipples making you arch into her touch slightly. “I love how you let me fall asleep with my head on them, they really make the best pillows.” Her hands remain on your chest, she is playing with your nipples and the surrounding skin. “Your turn.” She tells you.

You’re stuck, your shoulders and arms were easy, you didn’t fully despise them, your chest, and frankly the rest of your body was going to be harder.

“I dunno.” You look down. Your hands moved down to start to pick at the skin on your thighs.

“Hey,” Jessie pulls your hands away from where they were picking. “I’ll keep going then. I love the way they look in your sports bra, I love the pretty little noises you make when I play with them, I love how you let me mark them with my mouth, I love-“

“Okay stop.” You gently chew your lip, looking at Jessie through the mirror, her gaze is strong on you. “I like how they look in that yellow top that you like so much.”

“That’s perfect baby.” She gives you a nod and kisses the side of your head.

Her hands trail down. Settling on your waist and stomach. You took a deep breath, eyes still looking at Jessie’s face.

“Look at my hands.” She tells you. You drop your eyes lower, looking at where her hands were spread on your own stomach.

“I love your stomach, your waist. I love being able to hold you tight around the waist, I love how your hips look when you tuck in your jersey,”

“I have stretch marks.” You interrupt her, you don’t mean to but the words just come out. You tense, expecting to get scolded by Jessie. Only she doesn’t scold you, she just calmly starts speaking again.

“Yeah baby, you do.” Her fingers gently drag over the lines you were so insecure about. “But guess what, so does everyone, you’re strong because of those marks, you grew, you’re an athlete, you push this body to the limit everyday. You’re making it stronger, faster, and sometimes that means your muscles grow faster than your skin can keep up, so you get these beautiful marks.”

Her hands slide down to the inside of your thighs where more stretch marks sat. They rest, sitting just above where you still desperately needed her touch.

“Look at these legs baby. So strong, they’re able to carry you running around for hours. You’re able to squat, jump, and run, because of these legs.” Her hand is now on the outside of your thigh. “These legs help carry me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch. These legs piggybacked Sam around for 45 minutes so she could say hi to fans after playing a whole 90’ minutes because she didn’t want to deal with her crutches, these legs score game winning goals.”

Her hands squeeze tight, reassuring but also nearing painful. “Now since we are talking about your strong, muscular, beautiful legs, you owe me something you love about your stomach and your legs.”

“I like that my legs let me play soccer and that they’ve let me travel all over and see incredible things.” You stop and stare at your stomach, looking for something good to say about it. “Um. I like my core because it makes me a better athlete, and it’s useful for other activities.” You give Jessie a knowing look through the mirror. It took you and Jessie only a couple times to learn how much core strength is required to be on the giving end of the strap on you shared.

“That’s perfect, you’ve been such a good girl.” Jessie’s voice suddenly deeper. “You did so well baby. Do you want your reward?”

You nod against her, still making eye contact through the mirror.

“What do you want, baby?” She brings her hands down on your thighs so that her index fingers are sitting in the crease between your thigh and pussy.

“Your fingers. Please.” You were ready for her to fuck you, having edged you just to make you sit for what felt like an hour, staring at yourself in the mirror.

“Of course my love.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Anything for my perfect girl.”

Her hands move, her left moving a finger to your entrance, slowly running in up and down to collect some wetness before she gently pushes it inside of you. It’s only one finger but it feels good with how turned on you are from being edged.

“Add another please Jessie.” You manage to get out.

“Anything for you.” She pushed into you with two fingers thrusting them both gently, curling once they’re deep inside of you. Her right hand now settles with just her middle finger on your clit. Unlike before she starts slow, gently tracing around the bud.

Her mouth starts making its way down your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses along the side, it makes you sigh, you loved the feeling of her lips on your neck, it was always so sensitive, the way she would suck hard enough to feel it but soft enough not to leave a mark. The way Jessie would drag her teeth over your skin, biting you softly knowing you liked the pain. Her mouth on your neck was heaven.

With her mouth pleasuring your neck and her hands between your thighs, it wasn’t long until your legs were shaking and you were moaning Jessie’s name. Feeling yourself reach the edge again you throw your head back, shutting your eyes.

“Eyes open, watch yourself baby, watch yourself feel good.” Jessie’s shoulder nudges your head up. You listen, but instead of watching yourself you make intense eye contact with Jessie.

She removed her hand from your clit and stalls her fingers inside of you just as your legs start to try and close on her hands. You let out a high pitched whine.

“Do you love your body?” She stares at you through the mirror.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I love my body.”

“Look at yourself when you say it.” Her hand, previously pleasuring your clit, comes up to hold your chin again. You can smell your arousal on her finger tips. Your eyes leave hers and find yourself staring back at you. “Now, tell me you love yourself again.”

“I love my body.” Her hand drops from your chin.

“Again.”

“I love my body.” Her finger finds its way back to your clit, just touching it, not moving.

“Good girl, again.”

“I love my body.” She starts circling with her fingers, pleasure immediately flowing through you again.

“Again baby.”

“I love my body.” Now she’s gently thrusting her fingers again, no where near the force or speed that she had before but it was better then them sitting still inside of you.

“Good girl, one more and I’ll let you cum.”

“I love my body.”

“That’s my girl, you can cum, I promise I won’t tease you this time.” With her promise her fingers inside of you return their vigor from before, immediately feeling yourself clenching tightly around them. Her finger in your clit increases its pressure and you watch yourself fall apart in the mirror. You’re able to watch your orgasm start before the pleasure becomes too much and you have to shut your eyes and throw your head back.

Jessie praises you as she works you through your orgasm. Her words spur you on further, her lips hot against your ear. “That’s it pretty girl, so good, I love making you feel good. You look so pretty cumming around my fingers.”

As you come down from your orgasm you blink your eyes open, finding Jessie’s eyes in the mirror.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“What do you want? A bath? To cuddle? A nap?” Jessie was always attentive with aftercare even if you had vanilla sex, she always checked in, seeing what you needed and you’d return the favor.

“A bath would be nice.” Jessie nods and slides her legs off of yours, finally allowing you to close your legs. She moves off the bed, holding out a hand to you. You get off the bed with her assistance and walk into the bathroom together. Jessie starts running the bath, putting in your favorite lavender soap. She moved to get out a towel for you. When you notice she only grabs one towel you frown at her.

“What's wrong?”

“Can you join me?” You point to the bath, a pout on your face.

“Of course.” Jessie reaches back into the cabinet for another towel. She comes over to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, holding you tight. “I love you, you’re perfect.” She whispers.